IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: FFN ate some really critical information in chapters 1 and 3, and I am really sorry if you got confused by it. Please go back and check them if you read it before December 10th, 2022.


The Sylveon made her way through the busy intersection like she had done hundreds of times before. She could path her way through even the strongest and loudest of crowds. She had the incredible power to avoid hitting anyone, even during rush hour.

This Sylveon's name was Diana.

This time was different however, she seemed to lose her abilities. She shoved her way through the crowd, bumping and hitting nearly every person in her path. She was distracted. This distraction did not come from anyone or anything. It came from herself; the only place where she could not hide from it. Yet she could not face it either. Not on her own.

She had been kicked out of her new home for being too rough with her girlfriends, and teasing a boy a bit too hard. She approached her old home, and her exterior look of contempt and frustration cracked and turned to horror when she saw it. Now, there was just a pile of rubble where it once was. The decades of leaks, rotting, failures, and more, had finally culminated in its untimely destruction. She rushed over to the scene and collapsed near what used to be her bedroom.

She held up a stone and then dropped it as she placed her ribbons over her eyes, sobbing uncontrollably. She blew her only chance of stability and was now faced with the hard truth that there was nothing left for her.

She traveled through the island, begging any shopkeeper she could find for help. Every time, she got rejected and pushed out, and she lowered her standards, bit by bit. She had started with an outlandish demand that she be given a place to stay and food to eat. As time passed, the plight got reduced to a single berry. The last shopkeeper rejected even that, and she sat down and rested in an alleyway. She was furious. She had been turned around by every single pokemon she had talked to. She was hungry with no food, thirsty with no water, and cold with no shelter.

Just then, she was approached by a familiar face.

Kecleon the Great Merchant was famous for just how much he dedicated and brought to the art of business. He spent his time selling food and other useful items. Kecleon had a much less known side business, in a different sense of the word. He spent his extra time going out of his way to help others in need, even through his own bias. He had helped a "Jolteon" avoid certain death, despite knowing almost certainly its true nature and the secret that would get him murdered by anyone else if it was revealed. Kecleon most definitely regretted stepping in, with the public panic that ensued. However, he promised to never hurt someone, and even speaking about what he had done could put both the Jolteon's life and his in mortal danger, so he tried to avoid thinking about it.

The Kecleon approached the ostracized Sylveon, got on one knee, and outstretched a hand offering her a berry.

Diana was not impressed, and with all of the past frustration and rejection having built up inside of her from the past day, she lashed out,

"Who do you think I am?! A damn beggar? Your wares are reprehensible, and your berries are pungent! Go elsewhere, and you should never make the mistake of taking me for a beggar ever again! You hear me?!" Diana screamed at the Kecleon so loudly that even a few passerby's heard and hurried along.

Kecleon however, was unphased. He simply set the berry down on the cleanest patch he could find, and left her to her own devices, ignoring her demands to return so she could scream some more at him. Diana's pride collapsed, and she took a big bite of the berry.

Disgraced and degraded, this Sylveon would have a long while to go, and a lot of hard lessons to learn.


I tossed and turned through the night, trying to get over my betrayal. Many would consider my reaction as overblown, but I didn't see it that way. I slept on a near-empty stomach, wondering what I did to deserve this. Was this the punishment for my treatment of Elizabeth? Who could I trust now? I could only find solace in the fact that there was somebody there that defended me. I knew that much from the conversation caused by my "departure". Maybe it's not my fault?

Maybe it's that dreadful journal's fault, ripping us apart with the bane of curiosity. Maybe it isn't. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding. There is only one thing that is certain, and that is that I will never forget last night.