It means the world to me that people are reading this far. I had an excellent time writing this chapter; quite a bit happens here, and there are further revelations. Thank you to "emery" for their guest review - that's the first review I've gotten! It means so much to me.
Also, I've decided to do away with a posting schedule. These chapters are going to be released whenever the hell they're done. My goal for this story is 100 followers, though I intend on seeing it through to the end no matter what happens, of course. Happy reading!
As much as I wanted answers, I had to agree with Leopold. My legs once more felt like they wouldn't be able to support my body much longer. They were basically moving of their own free will at this point.
"There's someone I'd like you to meet first, though," the Village Elder told me. He motioned for me to follow him towards a collection of buildings, mainly constructed out of wood.
If this forest were set ablaze, these buildings would be sitting ducks. Wood is good for nothing if not adding fuel to a fire.
Perhaps that was a random thought. But I was convinced that after that episode, I would permanently be traumatized by the mere idea of fire. It might end up consuming me, just like it could destroy the entire village in theory.
As it turned out, though, that worry wouldn't have been in vain. Someone had placed torches in strategic locations to illuminate the facades of stores, as well as the narrow walkway that somebody had dug out of the ground.
When I gasped at the sight, Leopold seemed to read my mind.
"Given that Litleo and Pyroar are Fire-types, we are somewhat protected from heat. It makes it harder for us to burn, but by no means impossible."
"Huh," I said softly, looking at the nearest torch and wondering how close it was to toppling over. And if that happened, well, nothing good would come of it.
"I mean, if you get lowered into a raging bonfire, you won't survive," Leopold continued. "But you can survive things others wouldn't."
"Like what?"
The Village Elder gave me a severe look. "You don't want to know. The point is that you should know your powers, but also know your limits. Now, I'll take you to our blacksmith."
"Blacksmith?" I muttered. "What would you need a blacksmith for?"
"You'll see," Leopold replied. "There are a lot of skills you need to run an autonomous village, and this is one of them."
I saw a storefront painted dark red, albeit with plenty of chipping. The words SMITHY GANG were painted in colossal silver letters above it, though the silver had faded into a dark gray.
"Your blacksmith is named Smithy?"
"Why, yes," the Village Elder told me. "I can assure you that this is purely coincidental. Anyway, enter."
Although it must have been late at night, the lights of the blacksmith's office were on. Another old Pyroar, this one with monochrome fur (as opposed to most of the others, whose coats shone in bright vermilion and yellow), sat behind a desk, weaving something together.
"Oh? Who is this, Chief?" the blacksmith, whose name I assumed was Smithy, asked. If an owl could speak, that's how I'd imagine his voice to sound.
"I'm Lucas Teller," I told him. "And you can just call me Lucas."
"Why, yes," Smithy replied. "I knew there was a newcomer here, though I didn't know his name. I was on the beach with the rest of the village, you know, watching you sleep on the ground. You looked so cute there -".
"Hey!"
" - that it made my job even more difficult. Of course, I'm not the one actually doing it, but sometimes it's still not easy. And seeing you here right now, before me, doesn't help matters."
I grimaced. "What are you talking about?" I asked, getting a sinking feeling that I already knew the answer.
Smithy frowned, an action that caused his silver fur to billow around a bit. And then he spoke in a pained tone.
"What I'm weaving right now is a full-body harness that can support the weight of a Litleo. You were strapped into one of these when we strung you over the fire."
My breath came in short pants every few seconds; paradoxically, my heartbeat sped up to no small degree. I just couldn't believe this.
"It's just a bunch of straps," Leopold said. "It can't hurt you."
But he didn't understand. He simply didn't. How could I explain that seeing something like that, which reminded me of a horrifying moment I'd just endured, was what some would call a trigger?
"I don't know about that," I spat. "You did string me above the pit, and Arkoon did lower me quite close to the fire. I'm not just going to forget that anytime soon."
Smithy gave a great sigh.
"I'm very sorry we gave you that fright," he said. "You must also remember, however, that this isn't a fun job. It's tough emotionally, but somebody's got to do it."
"I'm well aware of that," I responded bluntly. "I just…don't know what to say. Maybe I'll feel better in the morning."
By this time, I could have fallen asleep on my paws, and I wouldn't need a bed or even to be lying down. But I had no desire to remain in Smithy's company any longer.
After signaling this with a giant, unintentional yawn, I heard Leopold chuckle. "Looks like this youngster had better get to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
It was rather disarming to be referred to as a youngster like that, but I didn't voice my displeasure to Smithy's face. Instead, I waited until we were far from the blacksmith's office to speak.
"With all due respect, Chief, how could you have thought that was a good idea?"
Leopold went on the defensive, stiffening up so quickly I heard his joints creak. He raised one of his front paws in the air.
"I tried, okay? I wanted you to enter this village on the right paw. Hopefully, you would come to understand that we all have souls."
I frowned. "Souls? What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm referring to your personality, feelings, memories, that sort of thing. In other words, what makes you, you. We are not robots, even if Smithy sometimes wishes he were a robot."
"Hmmm. I can understand why," I responded dryly.
"Indeed. Now, I'm sure Sionne is waiting for you back at her house. You need to rest; tomorrow will be a big day."
Leopold led me to a different part of the village, one with far more residential buildings than storefronts. They were still constructed almost entirely of wood, except for some glass windowpanes. On the whole, though, it reminded me a lot of a summer camp.
"Here you are," the Village Elder told me, stopping in front of one such dwelling. "This is Sionne's home, and I'm sure she'll take good care of you."
With that, Leopold turned around and left with a slight creaking sound. This action left me no option but to enter the house.
On the inside, the place seemed quite cozy, even if it wasn't ornate. A pair of rocking chairs sat against the wall, next to a fireplace. There were also a few lamps, which were thankfully electric and not fueled by fire.
Sionne was sitting in one of these rocking chairs, reading a book. She looked up at me as I walked into the room.
"Good evening," she said quietly.
"Good evening," I repeated.
The Pyroar sighed. "I'm not going to keep you from bed if you don't want to stay up. It's probably nearly midnight by now."
"Thanks," I replied, barely holding back the mother of all yawns. "I think I'll feel better in the morning."
Sionne placed her book on the nearby coffee table, giving me what I assumed was her undivided attention.
"Look, Lucas…I just want to know that holding you above a fire like that…I was no part of that at all. I wanted no part of that, simply because I don't support being so cruel to visitors."
"Thank you," I repeated because, really, I didn't know what else to say.
"It was the least I could do" Sionne replied. "Anyway, the master bedroom is ready for you. I prepared it while Leopold was showing you around the village. How was the tour, by the way?"
I snorted with dry laughter. "It wasn't much of a tour. Only got to see one place: The blacksmith."
"Trust me", she said, "Chilly Waters is a lot prettier during the day. I look forward to showing you more of our home. But you need some rest now."
I nodded. "I sure do."
It didn't take long to find the master bedroom. It was clear that Sionne had made an effort to have it appear more presentable, but the sheets were still slightly dusty. It was, however, a king-sized bed that looked too big for my new Litleo form.
"Uh…" I muttered sheepishly, feeling my face flush.
"Yeah?"
I hated to ask Sionne for this favor, but I didn't see how I could do it alone as a quadruped. "Could you help me onto the bed? It'll be hard to get me in otherwise."
"Sure" she replied. And, with her strong Pyroar body, she was able to lift me in the air and set me down gently on the bed.
It felt great to be in a real bed again after all this time. It wasn't perfect by any means, but beggars can't be choosers. It was a better bed than a forest floor, and certainly better than a damp ditch.
I knew that in the morning, the villagers would have more questions for me. I didn't blame them; it's only natural to be curious about outsiders. But I didn't feel like answering any at the moment; thank God (or rather, Arceus, the God of the Pokemon world) I didn't have to.
Ferguson: So, let's talk about Sionne. Were you suspicious at all that she was treating you so well?
Defendant: No. At least, I saw no reason to be. The evidence suggested that she was taking me in out of the goodness of her heart.
Ferguson: Did you truly believe that, or did you merely want to believe that?
Defendant: I'm glad we're on the same page that the world of Pokemon is real.
Ferguson: That did not answer the question, Mr. Teller. Please answer the question.
Defendant: I believed it because I wanted to believe it. After the villagers had strung me up like a sack of meat, after they had threatened to cook me in a bonfire, I had to think that at least one of them would be on my side.
Ferguson: Did you ever question the reason why her master bedroom was empty? Did you think there was something else happening there?
Defendant: If I did, I didn't care enough to investigate. Really, it wasn't that important. I was exhausted by that point.
Ferguson: So you had no option but to fall into bed, I take it? You didn't want to think about anything else?
Defendant: Of course not. We've all been there.
Most of the time, I don't remember my dreams. It's just as well since many people care way too much about them. They believe that their dreams can predict the future, or something equally ludicrous. To me, that's all bunk.
At least, it seemed that way until the night I arrived in Chilly Waters.
I saw what appeared to be an ordinary exurban home, made up a little better than the one I'd lived in since birth. There was a "Make America Great Again" hat on top of the mantle, as well as a Confederate flag draped over the sofa.
Evidently, this was the living room.
A middle-aged woman walked into said room and sat on the couch. She then tapped her foot incessantly, brooding in what was most likely impatience.
"I'm coming, honey! I just need to make myself look good!"
Why does he need to polish his appearance? Are he and his wife going to a party or something?
Then, the most curious thing happened. The scene sped up significantly, and the sound vanished from it. For all intents and purposes, it was like one of those "found footage" horror movies, except that the footage wasn't in black and white. That was the only meaningful difference.
Eventually, a slightly potbellied man came down the stairs and into the living room. Despite his earlier words, he did not appear to have put much effort into "looking good." If anything, he was far more disheveled than his wife, with dark circles right between his eyes.
"Where's the rifle?" the man growled. "Anybody who lays a finger on Janelle is going to suffer the consequences!"
"Honey, you do realize that the police are the ones coming, right? They're trying to help us find our daughter."
So these are Janelle's parents. But what's going on here? Did she disappear too?
I realized then that it would have been a full day since our ill-fated date. Because Janelle wasn't back by now, her parents would rightly be concerned and would contact the authorities. Any good guardians would do the same.
"I don't care!" Janelle's father bellowed. "If the cops get in our way of busting her out of there, I'm more than willing to take matters into my own hands. Stand back and stand by!"
I didn't know how to respond to that, which made me even more grateful when I realized I wasn't actually in that room.
"Honey, please don't be so impulsive" his wife reminded him. "I know you have to stay strong for Janelle, but threatening to fire at those who want her rescued is weak."
Her husband frowned, but then began sighing deeply. "You're right. I guess…do you think it's a domestic violence case? Aren't there a lot of instances like this?"
Janelle's mother scrolled on her phone, during which time I felt my dreamy heartbeat quicken dramatically, dreading what Mrs. Wilson would say next.
"Lucas Teller, her Tinder date, also vanished without a trace last night. Or rather, almost without a trace - his vehicle was found next to a roadside ditch."
"Still, this Lucas guy must be to blame" Mr. Teller replied, raising his left hand in a defiant fist. "He doesn't need to have been violent to have coerced her into something against her will."
They're talking about me. And Janelle's father thinks I'm to blame?
I mean, it's not like our relationship went well. It never really got off the ground. But there aren't many things that make me angrier than being accused of something I didn't do.
"Be reasonable, honey" Janelle's mother insisted. "Until there's concrete evidence of foul play, we shouldn't jump to conclusions. He could be completely innocent."
"Could be."
I hated to say it, but Mrs. Wilson seemed like the rational one here, and it hurts to admit that when the "rational" person has a Confederate flag in their home. But that thought of mine was interrupted by a knock on the door.
"The cops must be here!" Mr. Wilson exclaimed, springing to his feet. "Finally, it took them long enough!"
And then, before I could witness the interaction between the Wilsons and the cops, my eyelids fluttered open, and I saw that I was back in the master bedroom.
I'm in Sionne's home in the village of Chilly Waters. I'm on Fula Island, in the Pokemon world. But that's not all.
That dream last night…wow, that's a lot to unpack.
Janelle, it appeared, had gone missing as well. I didn't have the slightest clue where she might be, nor how she'd ended up there. Moreover, how had this all happened?
I shook my head. Then, I tried to sit up, but I'd forgotten that I was still a Litleo. When you have four legs rather than two arms and two legs, this is easier said than done.
Eventually, I was successful, and then I got into what passed for a standing position. After taking a deep breath, I leaped off the bed and onto the floor.
Seconds later, I heard something shatter.
"An earthquake? Is that what that was?" I heard Sionne shout from the kitchen.
Too late, I realized that by landing so hard on the floor (as a consequence of jumping with so much power), I had created a tremor that had clearly done some property damage.
When I staggered into the kitchen, I probably looked like a dog about to be put down. My head hung low on my shoulders, and I heaved a great sigh as Sionne glanced at me.
"It's okay, Lucas," the Pyroar told me, gesturing at the broken plates on the ground. "I'll sweep them up, and then I'll make you some breakfast. Don't worry about it."
After stepping carefully around the shards of glass (or whatever material the plates were made of), I was able to climb into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. My position had already been set.
"Just be more careful next time, Lucas" Sionne said softly. "We all make mistakes. It's how you learn from them that matters."
I couldn't even look at her as she got out a broom and dustpan and gently swept the floor. Whenever I did something wrong, even if it was a relatively minor error, this is how I usually dealt with it: By ignoring the mistake, and not giving any unnecessary oxygen to the notion that I had screwed up.
Even now, there was a sinking feeling that I owed Sionne better than this. After all, it had been less than twelve hours ago that she'd saved my life. She'd persuaded Arkoon to spin the wheel in the other direction, and that was quite something to be grateful for.
Once the Pyroar had finished cleaning up after me, she began cooking something on the stove. A sweet scent filled the air, one reminiscent of times we'd gone apple picking at one of the orchards near Forrest County.
"Grilled berry salad", Sionne explained. "And I know that might not sound amazing, but you haven't had it yet. When fruit's cooked on the stove, it tastes a lot more interesting."
"I never said it didn't" I mumbled.
Sionne was nothing if not efficient. Within minutes she'd whipped up two plates of the salad, a mixture of berries in a veritable rainbow of colors. And when we sat down to eat them, I was hooked as soon as I had my first bite.
"This is delectable!" I exclaimed. "How do you cook like that? And how old are you, anyway?"
The Pyroar gave me an awkward glance, and I knew I might have struck a nerve with her. Things would be very awkward from here on out, and what was more, I'd ruined a chance to be on good terms with her.
Just like I did with Janelle.
Nonetheless, Sionne responded after a fairly long silence. "When you live on your own, you have to be good at things that you wouldn't need to otherwise. To answer your other question, I'm eighteen."
"That's only a year older than me," I said, trying not to sound too excited. I had no intention of, well, asking her out, but I wanted to make sure she did not suspect me of flirting.
"I suppose it is" she replied softly, glancing up at the ceiling.
"But then why do you live alone?" I wondered aloud.
The only thing more humiliating than asking a personal question is asking two personal questions in a row. Sionne grunted rather loudly before turning to me.
"That's not important."
"Fair enough," I said, continuing to eat my berry salad. It didn't taste quite as spectacular after that.
After breakfast, I made a point of helping Sionne with the dishes. It felt important to earn myself just a little redemption, even if it wouldn't make up for my earlier error in taking a flying leap from my bed.
We were almost done washing our utensils (a task that involved a steep learning curve as a quadruped) when there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it," I said. This might sound selfish, but my hind legs were aching by this point from propping myself against the sink. I had my ticket out of this job now, and I was going to use it.
Leopold stood at the door. In the clear light of day, the lines on his face were far more evident than they'd been at night. He frowned at me, though it was hard to tell if this was out of disappointment or not. You never knew with Pokemon.
"Good morning, Chief," I said awkwardly. I was a very recent arrival to this village, and Leopold was the leader of said village, so should I have spoken in any other manner?
"Good morning, Lucas" the Village Elder echoed. "And hello to you too, Sionne. How was your first night in Chilly Waters, Lucas?"
I gulped. "It went okay, I guess."
Wow, that wasn't very eloquent of me. I could have used a thesaurus right about now!
Leopold grunted. "Well, okay is better than not okay. We can work on making your time here even more pleasant, though. How did you sleep?"
"Pretty well." I didn't feel like telling Leopold about my dream. There was no need to, and besides, he might not believe me.
"Sionne, do you mind if I borrow Lucas for a bit? There's more that I'd like to tell him."
"Like what?" the female Pyroar asked her colorful fur perking up at that statement.
Leopold narrowed his eyes. "I think you know what I'm talking about, Sionne. It's the predicament faced by this village; indeed, this world. Our world had been going strong for too long. I suppose it was inevitable that something went wrong."
"I don't understand," I said, which might end up winning an award for "Most Obvious Statement of the 21st Century."
"I know. You don't get it yet, because you're an outsider" the Village Elder replied. "But you will, before long."
With that, Leopold assured me that I'd return to Sionne before long, and he led me out of the dwelling and back into the village.
The morning air was crisp and chilly, not unlike the weather Northerners associated with autumn. Of course, those living in the South knew better than to get their hopes up for such weather, but I digress.
Anyway, a few other Pyroar were out and about, and there were even a couple of Litleo playing hopscotch on a makeshift court. To me, it was the perfect weather for outdoor activities, which made this walk through the village feel invigorating.
"Okay", Leopold said with a sigh. "I think I owe you an explanation."
I narrowed my eyes. "What sort of explanation?"
"Simply put, you should probably know why this world is…why some would say it's going to hell."
A memory of last night's conversation came back to me. "You said someone had vanished. And you used the pronoun they to describe that person - are they non-binary?"
Leopold grimaced. "Well, I wouldn't call this Pokemon non-binary. I believe it's a little more complicated than that. And it's a Pokemon, not a person. A vitally important one."
When I stared at the Village Elder blankly, he stomped a foot. "It's Zeraora" he grumbled, looking up at the sky as though pleading with Arceus Himself.
I replayed mental footage of the kid exclaiming that the lightning storm had to do with Zeraora. Suddenly…well, I wouldn't say it all made sense, but it did get a bit closer to making sense. But only slightly.
"Zeraora" I repeated.
"Yes, Lucas. Zeraora, the Mythical Pokemon, has vanished, seemingly without a trace. And that's a problem."
I tried to recall what I knew about that Pokemon. Given that I had been known as something of a Pokemon nerd back in high school, I shouldn't have drawn a blank. And yet…
"I don't know what Zeraora's story is" I admitted. "I'm fairly sure there was a movie about them."
"A movie?" Leopold all but bellowed in what must have been anger.
It was then that I knew I'd opened up a giant can of worms. How could I explain that where I'd come from, Pokemon had been a work of fiction? At least, without seriously pissing the Village Elder off.
"Never mind. I must be thinking of something else" I said, in an effort to do some damage control.
"Lucas, this is a big deal" Leopold continued, adopting a grave demeanor. "Zeraora is often seen as the guardian of our environment. And that's not without reason, because they are. It's why they lashed out at the people of Fula City all that time ago."
"I don't understand" I muttered. I had a feeling I'd be saying those words a lot in the near future.
"Ever since Zeraora's been gone, the world has not been right. It's very hard to look around and not come to the conclusion, in fact, that something is very wrong. We see abundant evidence of this all around us."
"What sort of evidence?" I asked. I did this not to question Leopold's conclusion, but to seek clarification.
"Well, the rate of what some would call natural disasters has greatly increased. There have been more storms, floods, earthquakes, wildfires, you name it. And in the three months since their disappearance, it's only gotten worse."
"Like climate change," I said matter-of-factly. "I mean, my parents don't believe it's real, but that's what climate change is."
"I mean, there are some deniers in this world as well" Leopold told me softly. "And it's not fun to remind them that it's actually happening; I mean, the evidence is literally everywhere you look!"
I didn't have the gall to say this out loud, of course, but I couldn't help but think about how the evidence wasn't right here, right now. But that was the thing about climate change - sometimes things appeared normal, whereas other times it was undeniable that the world was warming.
"About a week before your arrival", the Village Elder continued, "Fula City was hit by a devastating earthquake, one of the strongest that has ever been recorded within a hundred-mile radius. But there was something else about it too, which made it even worse."
"What was that?"
"Well, you have to understand that Fula City is prone to earthquakes. This means that their buildings are constructed with them in mind, and they can withstand anything up to a 9.0 on the scale. Ninety-nine point five percent of the time, those building codes are more than enough, but one time in two hundred…".
"I get it" I replied. "It was catastrophic."
"No, you don't get it" Leopold responded. "Until you've experienced it for yourself, which I hope you never have to, you can't understand what it's like. That sheer terror of rubble tumbling all around you, threatening to bury you at any moment - I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I wouldn't even wish it on…".
He trailed off, and I knew better than to press him further on this. After all, there had to be a reason why he didn't specify who he was talking about.
"Earthquakes aren't caused by climate change, though" I blurted out, recalling something from one of my science classes in high school. "Although many other extreme weather events are made more likely by these processes, earthquakes aren't one of them."
To my relief, and mild surprise, Leopold didn't order me to be winched up in front of the bonfire again. Instead, he simply sighed.
"We're in unfamiliar territory here, Lucas. It's territory that's been uncharted for centuries, and the last time these events occurred, it didn't exactly end well for either humankind or Pokekind."
This time I had no desire to ask him anything more. I didn't even want to imagine the horrors that lay in wait for me in this world.
But maybe I was put here for a reason. Maybe I have to fix it somehow. Maybe I can still make things right.
Leopold, however, didn't take long to send me back to Earth (proverbially, of course; I might never see Earth again.)
EDIT 8/13/22 - I have corrected a mistake in this chapter. There were a few places where I accidentally typed "Teller" instead of "Wilson." I'm aware that this is more than a simple spelling error, but it has been rectified now. Thanks for bearing with me.