Chapter 15

Dark

"Oh. You've been wondering something about me?" asked Squirtle as he subtly readjusted his position on the stone to face away from Quil more.

In a lonely cell on the bottom floor of Blindhollow's Prison, there was no easy way to evade the tough questions. And judging by Quil's tentative opener, some tough questions were on the way. Squirtle had a guess as to what Quil was interested in, and it was not a topic Squirtle was happy to discuss candidly.

Down here, no distractions separated Squirtle and Quil. If his friend felt like asking him a direct question, he had two options. Option one, answer fully and honestly, or option two, tell Quil that he was not comfortable responding. No middle ground could exist in this situation, because Squirtle could not say they had more important things to worry about. He could not answer with half-truths and mollifying words as he had been wont to do. Quil would be able to tell that Squirtle was being dishonest or misleading, and then their relationship would only deteriorate.

No, he either had to have an open-hearted discussion with Quil, or firmly ask Quil that they not talk about it and hope that Quil could respect a friendship with secrets. Anything less would lead to bad feelings and an unfair dynamic between them.

"I'll try to explain," Quil said. "We've established that you're definitely not from around here. Strange turns of phrase come easily to you, and you've never heard of the sayings I use. You had to learn how to introduce yourself like all the 'mon around here do, and you didn't even know the apparently traditional greeting of the Squirtle line."

Here, Quil's quiet voice sounded slightly more inquisitive. "Sometimes, I wondered about the other...troubles you've had along our way. For example, you were unsteady on your feet for the first couple of days, and you, er, moved strangely sometimes. You had no idea what to do during an ordinary encounter with a wild 'mon; I'm not sure you'd even Tackled anyone before. Also, ever since we've met, you've been asking the strangest questions. Those are a few examples I can think of right now, but I bet there are others."

In a conceding tone, he continued. "All that makes sense. Even if being from some foreign land doesn't fully explain your...uniqueness, I just have to remember that you have severe memory loss. The way you behave isn't strange when I remember that."

"Still, certain facts have been nagging at me that don't quite fit. The way you talk sometimes is amazing. You plan everything out, and you get this look on your face. You remember the expression 'Your head thinks, your gut knows'? Especially those first couple of days, you acted like the reverse. Whenever you don't know something, you're so curious that you look like you'd take on a Venusaur for the answers. I didn't know Pokémon could think the way you do until we met, no matter how foreign they might be."

Squirtle kept very still so he wouldn't give away his nervousness with any uneasy movements. When he said nothing, Quil interpreted his silence as encouragement.

"Other little quirks about you don't make sense either, even considering that you don't have any specific memories and that you hatched somewhere far away. To me, the biggest sign that there's something else going on is that...on occasion you seem like you're holding something back when I mention how odd something you've said or done is."

"Please don't get the wrong idea. I'm really not trying to accuse you of being a liar or a fake. Urgh, I'm no good at this sort of thing. Every time, it's obvious you don't want to talk about it, but I can't help but think about it every so often. So that's what's on my mind."

As he feared, Quil hadn't been fully buying his explanations for a long time now. His companion was more attentive than Squirtle gave him credit for. Unfortunately that meant the time had come to talk openly with Quil. They'd stuck by each other in some sticky situations. Quil had earned Squirtle's candor, if he even needed to in the first place.

The same worries reared their ugly heads once more. One of Squirtle's greatest fears remained being alone in this world that he knew very little about. Fortune had smiled upon him when a Cyndaquil set him spinning in that clearing in Root Forest. The coming discussion would jeopardize that fortune. Quil could react with anger or distrust upon learning Squirtle's origins. Fear or confusion would be equally detrimental. One sentence could push away Squirtle's only friend and greatest advantage in this new life.

Nonetheless, their relationship was heading south anyway if Quil had been having these thoughts about him independently. Squirtle was learning more and fitting into his role better, but he assumed these beginnings of Quil's distrust would only grow worse.

Yes, he had to say what he knew. Divulging everything would be a relief anyway. Already, with the decision made, Squirtle no longer had to fight to keep still. With luck, Quil would be able to help him.

"You're correct. There is one piece of information I have that I...avoided sharing."

"I knew it," muttered Quil. The three words were no doubt intended to sound triumphant, but the hue of sorrow caused a fresh wave of guilt to roll through Squirtle.

"Listen, I never exactly lied! I tried not to, and I don't think I did. I was just never sure if saying everything I knew would be, um, helpful for us."

Quil hardly sounded appeased. "I appreciate that, but if we could fully trust each other, this journey would be easier for both of us. Wouldn't it? I'm sorry for the times I wasn't straightforward, and I'll improve if it ever bothers you. In turn though, I hope you'll be straight with me on this. If it's about where you come from, I want to help!" He rose from his haunches to look excitedly down at Squirtle.

"I understand," said Squirtle, and stood with his back to Quil. "I'll tell you. Right here and now. For better or worse."

"You will, really? Fantastic!"

Five minutes from now, Squirtle could be spending the night in a different cell, or trudging alone through the rain. The friendship they'd built could be a crumbled ruin. He took a deep breath, but his knees began to tremble.

"You see a Squirtle before you. A Squirtle that appears to have no battling experience, and little knowledge about any topic relating to Pokémon. Not even familiarity with his own body. It's as if he's something else merely disguised as a Squirtle. Something else in a Pokémon's body."

He turned to face Quil fully. The Cyndaquil didn't say a word.

"I may look like it, but I'm not a Squirtle."

It took Quil a moment to reply. "Huh. What do you mean? You look like every other Squirtle, and there's no move that changes your appearance that I've heard of. Oh, unless you mean you're a Ditto?"

Squirtle blinked, then exhaled a held breath. "No, Quil, I'm not a Ditto. I can't transform or change my shape. Or if I can, I've forgotten how," he added soberly.

Squirtle could not see Quil's eyes, but his body language said 'blank stare', so Squirtle decided to probe Quil's knowledge.

"Do you know of any...creatures that aren't Pokémon? Heard any stories or rumors about non-Pokémon beings?"

"No, I can't think of any. What are you getting at? You're alive, you're not a plant, so you must be a Pokémon."

What a relief! Quil had never heard of his kind, so he wouldn't have any prior opinion. Accordingly, Squirtle hit Quil with the critical word.

"I'm not a Squirtle, because I'm a human."

"Hyoo – min? I would think this is some joke, but I know you don't joke around Squirtle. What's a human supposed to be?"

Squirtle sat down and permitted himself to relax a little. "Humans and Pokémon are two separate classes of being, just like plants and Pokémon. There is some overlap, but humans are totally different. They look almost like a Machoke, but also much like an Infernape, or sometimes a Jynx. Humans don't know any techniques or attacks to battle with, and they're way, way more fragile."

"I could go on and on, but trust me, I know I used to be human. Traveling with you from the viewpoint of a Pokémon has been too huge of an eye-opener for me to not have originally been a human. I just know, in the same way I'm sure, that you know you're a Cyndaquil. Somewhere, somehow, I was transformed into a Squirtle. It's the only explanation I have. Don't ask me how it happened, but I was a human and now I'm in this Squirtle body. That should explain some of my strange behavior and gaps in knowledge."

"Wow. So you were a human, but you don't remember who you were or what you were doing. Then you woke up where I found you in Root Forest as a Squirtle. Wait, that can't be right; why haven't I ever seen or heard of a human before?"

"I presume there aren't any living around here," suggested Squirtle. "That's what I meant when I said I came from 'far away'."

"I see. You don't have any proof that you were transformed, do you?"

"Right. Logically though, it's the only explanation."

Quil did not sound convinced. "You never know, this is still a mystery! Maybe a Pokémon with a more...unconventional skillset, like a Psychic, put the idea in your head that you used to be an imaginary not-Pokémon called a human."

"That...could be true. I suppose." The idea scared him. If he couldn't trust his intrinsic beliefs and hunches, then maybe he really had been a Squirtle all along.

"It could have happened at the same time that your memories were removed or tampered with. Oh, alternatively, you were transformed, but it happened years ago. But when you were in Root Forest, a Pokémon removed all the memories you had of being a Squirtle for the last few years. You never know, right?"

"These possibilities never occurred to me. We already have proof that someone has meddled in my mind, so why couldn't they make me think whatever they wanted? Why couldn't they have made up a fictitious race called humanity and stuck it in my mind?"

Squirtle's eyes were wide as he considered Quil's theories. Really, Quil was just opening the door. He'd punched holes in Squirtle's early assumption that he had only recently been transformed into a Squirtle, if at all, when Quil bumped into him. With Pokémon around that could obtain access into the delicate composition of his mind, not a single cogitation he had could be trusted.

Quil broke in with an apologetic attitude. "I'm sorry Squirtle, I didn't mean to scare you. These theories are random ideas I just came up with that are almost too outrageous to be true. Please don't fret over them."

"Quil, I've never been gladder that I told you what I am. Or what I think I am. Now I know, more than ever, that I need to find a Pokémon with Psychic talent to help me. I hope they'll manage to take a look inside my brain and ascertain what happened to me that day. Without that level of intervention, I can't even trust my own beliefs and vague, scant memories."

"For what my guess is worth," added Quil, "I believe that you must somehow be a non-Pokémon. I said it myself: there's no Pokémon like you." He chuckled.

"Yes, I'm one of a kind. If only I knew why." His eyes wandered away, to the stone of the cell walls. "I'd give anything to know."

Lately he'd been distracted, but Squirtle realized once he started thinking about it again how much he craved to know the truth to his origin. Was there a purpose, or was it an accident? Was his appearance tied to the storm? What sort of person was he before his transformation? Was he a human, or were humans a mind-implanted lie?

Quil stepped closer and patted him on his shell back. "Thank you for talking with me about this. Iyrodenin is our final destination, but I hope we'll come across a 'mon who is skilled or knowledgeable enough to help you out. We're traveling so far, it's bound to happen sooner or later!"

Squirtle returned a sincere smile that became a yawn. The contagious yawn spread to Quil.

"Sleep now, figure out tomorrow's plan in the morning?" Squirtle proposed.

Quil nodded as he curled up against the wall next to Squirtle. "Fine by me. Good night, Squirtle."

"Good night, Quil." Squirtle took his customary position of lying down belly-first. As the unanswered questions began to swirl in his head, and he tried to relax, the inhospitable environment became more oppressive. With silence taking the place of conversation, the cold, hard stone disrupted Squirtle's ability to rest.

Without forethought, he allowed the muscles at his core to tighten. Along with his five limbs, his head retracted slowly into his shell. The increasingly familiar sensation was welcome, as he could now easily ignore the disturbing Prison setting along with the ground on which he slept. He inhabited a friendlier darkness now. From past experience, he knew he might be slightly achy in the morning, but at the moment he was certainly comfortable. The position felt, of course, quite natural.

I'm less sure than ever of what my life was like before I woke up in Root Forest. Makes sense that being a Squirtle is becoming easier. I can't imagine not having this tail, this shell. A few days ago I kept telling myself I wasn't a Squirtle, but it's hard to remember now why I fought that idea with such vigor.

Give it a few more days, and I doubt I'll be able to fall asleep outside of my shell. Am I losing myself, or accepting what I am?

The night was restful and dreamless. Squirtle had no method to tell the time when he awoke, but he estimated his sleep at eight or nine hours. True to the Charizard's word, no Pokémon had disturbed them. Waking up in his shell was mildly disorienting once again, but not for as long. As he released his limbs and head for a stretch, Quil roused himself too. With his eyes hidden behind wrinkled fur and his fires merrily burning while he slept, Squirtle found it difficult to tell if Quil was awake or not.

"Yesterday we did everything in Blindhollow that we had planned to do," said Quil. "Today we just have to sneak out the same way we came in, and be on our way, right?"

"Ideally, yes. In practice, retracing yesterday's steps to slip out undetected may be tricky depending on the weather and time of day out there. I hope the sky is still dark and cloudy."

"We could always spend the day hidden down here, wait for the middle of the night, and sneak out then," Quil suggested half-heartedly.

"That would work," Squirtle conceded, "but it would also be an excellent way to test our patience."

"Honestly, I like this Prison, it feels comfortable to me. Even so, let's go now and not waste a whole day if that's fine by you. 'Now is the best time,' and all."

"I agree. Can you extinguish your fire for a while so we're harder to spot?"

Quil took a few seconds of concentration to comply. "Let's battle today, so we can see the Totter Seed in action!" he commented as his fire receded. Squirtle made a hum of agreement, but chose to worry about life outside of Blindhollow once they'd successfully left it behind.

Quil picked up his Totter Seed, and they walked quietly along a pair of corridors that circumvented the Charizard's cell. Squirtle found that the Prison's unsettling atmosphere had lost much of its venom after they'd spent a perfectly safe night in its bowels. As they climbed the staircase, the light level increased, the scents of the air grew fresher, and the quiet receded. Squirtle poked his head over the lip to glimpse the second floor, and silently beckoned Quil to join him. The cell-lined corridor was empty.

At the heavy stone door once more, the pair pushed their weight against it steadily until it began to inch open. After a few seconds, the effort required to move the door suddenly doubled for Squirtle. He glanced at Quil and saw that he had stopped pushing. His snout was pointed at the gap they'd made to the outside. Squirtle took a look for himself and noticed that the floor outside glowed with reflected torchlight from within the Prison. The landing was submerged in rainwater that had not evaporated. Even as he watched, some water began to dribble inside.

One more look at Quil confirmed what Squirtle suspected: no way was Quil was going out that door. They pulled the door shut softly. Squirtle looked along the rest of the steps upwards to the top floor. From their view of the Prison's exterior while escaping from the rain the previous day, he knew that these stairs likely led to one of the extrusions above ground level they'd seen. Hopefully a door would be present upstairs.

Together, they trod almost silently up the steps. At the top, they emerged from a hole in the center of a small circular room. Vertical slits in the wall allowed some narrow views of Blindhollow. The layout reminded Squirtle of a castle's watchtower.

A few strangely shaped devices lay on wall shelves, along with plenty of rope, so Squirtle guessed the materials were used for restraining atypically-shaped inmates. Turning slowly to further examine the room, Squirtle spotted a door on their right: the avenue to Blindhollow and their escape. He turned around to point it out to Quil, but once he was looking behind them to see the rear of the room, he froze.

At the base of one wall lay three concentric metal rings, the largest having a diameter of about five feet. Oscillating gently above the rings, a Magnezone floated. It silently faced them where they stood next to the stairwell.

What do I say? Now it knows we were in the Prison, and it's certainly not a place visitors are welcome to explore freely. Squirtle racked his brain for an appropriate conversation starter, but drew a blank.

The Magnezone remained silent as it stared directly at Quil's head. Actually, it appeared to be looking slightly above, at the opposite wall. Quil was clearly off-put by the Pokémon's silence, as he took a step back closer to Squirtle. Still it did not react.

Wait a second. The two side eyes were closed, eclipsed by steely gray eyelids. Only the large, red, central eye remained open. Yet it did not move. It did not blink. It stared straight ahead and did not react to their presence.

The Magnezone was asleep.

Squirtle nudged Quil, pointed at the Magnezone, and made the 'asleep' gesture with his two hands and tilted head. Quil's own head tilted, a wordless question. That particular human gesture was not adopted by Pokémon apparently. Thankfully, Quil appeared to quickly understand for himself that the Magnezone was not conscious, as he inched closer and waved his snout back and forth. No reaction from the Magnezone.

Free to leave with no questions asked, they stole over to the door. Quil pushed it open as Squirtle fervently hoped it wouldn't squeak or trigger some kind of alarm. It swung outward silently. They slipped out and closed the door gently behind them.

Sunrays peeked around the jagged snowy mountaintops to the east. The dawn illuminated some of the western half of Blindhollow's crater, but had not yet directly lit up the eastern side: the side the Prison was on. Perfect. Their way out was clear, and they'd even be shaded by the mountains. The Prison was already on the edge of town, so they needed only to head up the slope to the grassy periphery that was their getaway.

"This is our chance. Let's move before it gets brighter and the town starts waking up," said Squirtle with confidence. Quil looked less sure than him, but raised no objections.

The faster the better, here, thought Squirtle. He set a brisk jog away from the room they had exited toward the crater's rim. No other Pokémon were in view that Squirtle could see. He looked left, right, in windows, at the corners of buildings, but saw no movement. In seconds, they'd reached the halfway point. Nothing but the night's lingering shadow shielded them out in plain view.

"You! Stop!" squawked a harsh voice from high above. As one, Quil and Squirtle halted and peered up at the lightening sky.

A Flying-type that Squirtle could not recognize caught the sun's first rays as it circled them about a hundred feet up. It had dusty and dirty brown plumage, but its neck and face were naked pink. A bone was stuck through the tuft on the back of its head like a hairpin, and it wore the toothy jaw of some Pokémon like a skirt.

After a couple of seconds of rapid decision-making, Squirtle said in a low voice to Quil, "Can you make that smoke cloud you mentioned earlier?"

"Smokescreen, got it." The red patches on his back had already sizzled and reignited.

The Flyer above, a female, called down to them again. "I don't recognize you two, I don't. Leaving are you? Means you were already here. Means you sneaked in somehow, didn't meet with Raizula and pay the toll!"

Squirtle bit his tongue on his first, defiant reply. Then, politely: "We are on our way out, never to return. Please just leave us be."

"Raizula makes the rules, she does, not this lowly Mandibuzz! Come, come! Or, we fight." From the hungry tone of her voice, she considered the latter possibility a positive outcome.

"Ready, if you want to try to run," murmured Quil.

"Do it."

With a brief coughing fit, thick smoke the color of soot poured out of Quil's little mouth. Immediately, a nebulous shroud of the black smoke had enveloped the pair and began to diffuse outward. Undoubtedly, the Mandibuzz could not see them.

Squirtle himself succumbed to a few coughs, but the smoke did not irritate his eyes or anywhere else on his body. Whether the minimal harmful effects were due to his Type or the smoke's mild properties, Squirtle did not know, but it was working beautifully.

"Krah! Fight, we will fight! Can I still use that technique, I wonder?" Squirtle estimated she was gliding toward them since her voice grew louder.

"To Blindhollow's edge?" asked Quil quietly. He pushed his forelimb into Squirtle's hand for him to hold.

He gave the affirmative and allowed Quil to lead him onward. Without being able to rely on his vision, Squirtle felt more off balance than he would have imagined. They walked slowly and quietly in a direction that Squirtle hoped was up the slope. Whenever Quil pushed into thinner smoke that would have allowed the Mandibuzz to see them, he drew back and nosed into the thicker portions.

That is, until a sudden and fierce wind picked up. Squirtle's hold on Quil was broken as he was blasted off his feet and skidded across the ground. He could feel the thick particles of the smoke flowing over his skin and away with the wind.

"Keep in the smoke!" called Squirtle to Quil over the wind's dull roar. He dug the heel of one foot into the dirt as he skidded, and used that anchor to rise to his feet and run with the smoke.

The idea was of no use, as the wind was dispersing the smoke cloud as much as it was pushing it. Already Squirtle could see the Mandibuzz beating her wings rhythmically through the black haze, and Quil a few steps to his side. Thankfully, she had lacked the insight to blow the smoke closer into Blindhollow, and had instead pushed it slightly uphill. They were a bit closer!

As Squirtle rejoined Quil and they delved into what remained of the thick smoke, he saw the Mandibuzz vanish from the corner of his eye.

"I've fought some Flyers before in Steady Steppe," Quil said as they crept along in the smoke. "I can tell from that wind that this Mandibuzz is tough! We can't fight her."

"Understood. I hope we don't have to. Can you renew the smoke?"

Quil shook his head. "Takes a long time to work up smoke this dense in my body. Sorry."

They made good progress for a few more seconds. Squirtle noticed some movement in the ever-thinning smoke off to his left. He peered close, and stifled a gasp to find that it was the Mandibuzz herself. She was standing facing the opposite direction, her head turning this way and that to find them in the smoke.

This smoke is about to clear up anyway, thought Squirtle. May as well get the jump on her now since we're bound to fight. This is a perfect chance; she's looking the wrong way.

He released his hold on Quil, and a moment later, fell softly to all fours right behind the Mandibuzz. With little mental effort required, he drew water from his Pool into his mouth and prepared to blast it right at the back of the Mandibuzz's unsuspecting head. His claws braced against the earth.

FWACK!

She spun with no warning to whip the bony part of one wing right between Squirtle's eyes. He was launched through the smoky air before striking the ground about thirty feet away. The Mandibuzz crowed a mischievous cry of satisfaction. Squirtle seethed with disappointment at himself, and anger at his sinister foe for reacting so quickly.

No, she must have been expecting it. No Pokémon can be that quick and that accurate. She drew me in, like a feint attack! She tricked me by appearing to be oblivious!

Think regretful thoughts was all he could do now, as that attack had taken the fight right out of him. With no actual advantage to employ, Squirtle knew he was too weak to help Quil. All he could do was cheer his friend on from the sidelines.

Quil was trying his Ember technique against the Mandibuzz. Apparently awkward when ground-bound, she lacked the evasiveness to escape the attack. She spread her wings and flapped hard to take off upward and to the side relative to Quil, but her legs, tailfeathers, and right wing were struck by the glowing embers. They hissed and burst into short-lived flames where they stuck to her. Squirtle could see an expression of irritation cross the Mandibuzz's gray beak.

The now-airborne Flyer screeched a raucous cry and performed a powerful full-bodied movement that imparted Squirtle with foreboding on Quil's behalf. After a midair pirouette along with a dual downstroke of the wings, she sent some aerial attack ripping toward Quil. Without the remainders of the smoke in the air, Squirtle doubted he would have been able to see it. What looked like a diagonal streak of air slashed through the smoke. The leading edge became black as it gathered smoke, and swirling smoke eddies followed in its wake.

Squirtle could see Quil's spiky fire quiver and his short fur become pressed flat as the attack struck. He rolled backward, ending sprawled. Squirtle knew by his body language that he would be too weak to continue fighting. The seed he'd been clutching close with one forelimb tumbled from his grasp. Squirtle allowed his head to droop to the ground. The battle was over.

"Kah, ha! Good fight, good fight," the Mandibuzz remarked as she swooped in neatly for a landing between Squirtle and Quil. She plucked up the seed with her beak then held it close to her body with one wing. "Never underestimate a Shadow, you know now, Squirtle! Come, to Raizula we go, come." She preened some of the feathers struck by Quil's ember as she watched the two begin to move.

Squirtle did not need to be told twice. She did not seem to be the type of Pokémon that would be reluctant to issue some encouraging blows. Nor did she seem particularly patient. Quil was being compliant too, so he had no choice anyway but to go along.

It was a shame they'd been forced to fight. Now, with their present states, not only could they not battle, but also not run away. Twenty minutes at least would be needed before Squirtle estimated he'd be up to a sprint, from his post-battling experience in the past. Beating around the bush and delaying the Mandibuzz for that long was an impossible task though, so meeting Raizula looked inevitable. He walked slowly up to the Mandibuzz, ready to be led. Quil joined him.

"Not far, even on foot. Middle of Blindhollow, she is. Take your seed, Cyndaquil, here. No good it would do me to eat; I know that seed. Come." She let the seed fall to the dirt, then hopped and took flight. With lazy circles edging toward the center of the crater, she indicated the way. As if it weren't obvious to anyone with a sense of up and down.

"Should have pegged her right on her beak with this," grumbled Quil as he tiredly picked up the Totter Seed and started downhill.

"I'm not sure we could have won even then. You were right. She was very tough."

"I've never...I've never thought of what it would be like to be a prisoner until today, Squirtle. Have you?" He sounded more frightened than Squirtle had ever heard him.

"Hey," Squirtle stepped closer and lent Quil a reassuring, if weary squeeze with one hand, taking care to avoid the fire. "We can't jump to conclusions. We can't be sure she'll lock us away underground. Maybe we can persuade her, or bargain somehow." He tried to sound confident. Deeper down, his own fears were spawned by Quil's words.

How can we get out of this? We're helpless in this state, if we weren't already completely doomed against any Electric-type. We have almost nothing to offer, and no excuses for our behavior that she'll like.

How is Quil going to be able to continue his journey? How am I going to find my answers? This can't happen!