Chapter 1

The Human


An unfamiliar chill spread throughout his body. His crusty eyes slowly opened, a clear sign his sleep lasted longer than necessary. The sight of grass too close for his weary eyes to focus on overwhelmed his gaze while a light breeze washed over his back, shifting the grass in a soft rustling. From his position on the ground, he knew he laid on his stomach in some sort of field. Yet the grass seemed different, thinner than what was normal to his hometown.

His muscles ached from bearing his own weight as he strained against the ground. His arms swayed unsteadily, like an infant standing up for the first time. He stumbled onto the grass, cushioned by its hair-like blades. "Must have napped way longer than I thought…" he reasoned.

He craned his head to look at the shadowy expanse above and gasped aloud. Nebulae swirled together overhead his very head, forming the blurry, yet still noticeable, purples and darkening blues in the night sky. But the one thing that put him in awe more than anything else was the vast array of stars above. They filled the sky like a swarm of fireflies, blinking against the darkness as a field of light.

However, he quickly came back to his senses as he wondered aloud, "How long was I out?" He recalled his usual naps. He would walk out from his run-down school (the faculty called it, "a building of cultural significance" and refused to renovate the place), he'd walk along gravel back-alleys behind homes with faded paint and dirty windows towards the park. He'd look over the grassy knoll - a modest place with no real play equipment, simply a net and a large field - and find the perfect tree to rest under. He would take off his shoes so he could feel the soft grass blades between his toes while the chill of the shade relieved his body of stress and the worries pent up in his brain. No more focusing on the bad or the difficult, just singing birds and soft grass underfoot as he laid down for a nap.

Yet those naps never lasted more than an hour before someone called his name or he took a fútbol to the face: whichever came first. But judging by the stars above, this one lasted way past his usual. He should have been with Grace for a couple hours by now. A pit of guilt formed at the bottom of his stomach. Not showing up was bad enough, but not even texting? That would definitely make her worry.

He made to stand a second time while wondering if a donut could make up for this clear oversight. His muscles seemed to retain a lot more of his weight this time, yet as he put pressure on his legs, he felt a shooting pain emanate from his right ankle. He doubled back with gritted teeth, shocked into complete awareness and seething from the pain. Even without his own weight resting on the injury, it continued to throb.

"¡Ay…!" he hissed into the dark, making to grab at the pulsating limb, yet as his hands moved to his ankle, he found a bluish color to his skin.

The breeze washed over him again, yet its previous softness seemed to bite at him with a chill that ran up his spine. He tried to gasp in exasperation at the obvious condition of his skin yet the breath caught in his throat. He was blue: not just a bruised blue from his ankle's obvious injury, but actually blue, with what appeared to be bone arching from his knees. What's worse, upon closer inspection, his skin seemed… scaly?

It wasn't possible. It couldn't be. Maybe this was another trick of the eyes or someone had slipped something into his water bottle again. That might explain the long nap, at least. Yet as he made to touch his blue leg and disprove this obvious lie his eyes told, he found his hand - or what was supposed to be a hand - frozen in place just above his thigh. His breath stuttered in shock at the sight alone. Where his hand was supposed to be, a lone, white talon took its place. Not only that, but his once-muscular arm seemed to be a blue shaft with a shark's fin arching from the side.

He shouted from the shock. How could this be? If not for the pain in his ankle, he would have thought this to be some sort of freaky dream. So how could this have happened?

He thought back to before he fell asleep, sitting in the field for what felt like an eternity of panic and terror… but there was nothing. He tried a second time to recall what had happened, but he couldn't seem to remember anything at all. He shut his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth, trying to force his brain to go back to before even falling asleep.

His name was Dillan, he knew that for sure. He grew up in a small rural town outside of Tuscon. He recalled his sister, parents, friends, his school… but it all stopped somewhere in between, like a fog clouded his own brain, keeping him from remembering how he'd gotten here or what had happened to him.

He might as well search through an eternal pit for some kind of light at a bottom that never came.

All of a sudden, his throat felt very dry. He held his shaky claws ahead of him, wondering how this could have happened. They were clearly his, yet every fiber screamed, "This isn't right! You have HANDS!"

This couldn't have been something Dillan did to himself. Someone had to have done this - they would know how to fix it. His eyes darted around to his surroundings, desperately searching for help. With his search, he finally got a good look at the surrounding area.

Distant mountains stood against the horizon. He saw the shifting shadows standing tall above the grass, yet they were all trees: every one of them. Hills spanned out across the plains, obscuring any potential towns. Yet just as Dillan was about to give up on help, he spotted them: a line of shadows bobbing up and down a good distance away. With an average pace along the crest of a hill a little ways to his left, they seemed to be a group.

His eyes shot wide open at the very sight. They could help him. They would know what happened and could fix it, he just knew it!

"H-Hey!" he hollered, turning his body towards the shadows. Dillan felt his ankle roll underneath his weight, and he cried out again in agony. Yet the line did not waver, seemingly unable to hear him.

His breathing became ferocious. He looked down at his ankle and shivered from the purple hues and jagged angles. As unfamiliar as this body seemed, he knew this twist to be unnatural.

Glancing back towards the shadows, Dillan worried they would never hear him. They continued their pace without knowing of his injured state. He strained all his chest muscles before uttering as loud and as throat-tearing a scream as possible: "Help! I need help!"

And as he looked on, his heart skipped a beat. One of the shadows stopped in their tracks. Its head looked right towards him. He couldn't believe it: they'd actually heard him.

Oh, what joy he felt! Relief rose up through his chest and escaped in the form of a laugh. Dillan was saved! This person could tell him what happened, or at the very least get him to a doctor. Normally he hated the very thought of hospitals, but this time… Yes, that would be just alright! He imagined how comfy the cot would be while a warm cup of hot chocolate rested in his hand- …er, claw…

Yet as the person drew closer, he saw strange details beginning to form through the shadows. A green object which bobbed up and down with each step sprouted from their head… It appeared to be a leaf. And they seemed to be wearing baggy pants?

Dillan's thoughts froze along with his breath as the creature stopped in front of him. He stared up at what appeared to be some form of elf - shorter than what he expected, and it lacked the ears Dillan had come to associate with the woodland creatures. Not only that, but its nose shot out to a point resembling a massive needle. Its eyes were cold yet it stared at Dillan with a joyous sneer that made his heart shake.

It tilted its head to the side, looking over Dillan from his head to his feet, before spotting his ankle. "That's a pretty nasty sprain," it said, sounding as though it could laugh at any second. "And here I thought gabite were hearty pokemon to be feared."

"G… gabite…?" he asked. "Pokemon…? Is that what I am now…?"

The creature walked towards Dillan's lower half. Dillan curled himself away from the creature, but just as he moved his leg, the elf thing planted its foot on his ankle. He shouted from the impact. The world seemed to blur from the pain as if not even it could handle this sudden abuse.

The elf thing crouched down towards him, supporting itself on his leg. "You almost made it away, too," it sneered. "You're foolish to have called back to us, even with an ankle as bad as this."

Just then, a voice boomed in the distance: "Nuzleaf Tribe, halt!" Between the pain in Dillan's ankle and his shifting vision, he barely heard the voice at all. Yet the elf seemed to notice it as clear as day. Groaning aloud, it stepped off his leg and turned back towards the group, leaving Dillan to writhe on the ground.

He clutched at his ankle with his claws as best he could. And after a moment of heavy breathing, he finally regained enough focus to watch as a massive, hairy creature with piercing yellow eyes and wooden skin approached them. It stood above even the elf, eyeing it with malicious intent. If not for the pain dividing his focus, Dillan might have shouted from the shock of seeing such a beastly creature.

"What in the name of Ganderosa are you doing over here, Hurste?!" the hairy thing demanded. "You've already lost your prisoner once tonight! Are you trying for your head, as well?!"

"Mighty Arlon," the creature known as Hurste announced with an unmistakable charm. He bowed deep, touching the grass with the tip of his nose. "Forgive me for the break in formation. I simply heard screaming and took it upon myself to investigate, only to find this gabite prisoner unbound and calling for help. Please, understand that I merely broke form in order to-"

A firm slapping sound echoed through the dark and halted Hurste's explanation in its tracks. "Look at the gabite!" the beast, Arlon the shiftry, demanded. "Do you see any ropes lying around?! Is there any sign that it was part of our caravan at all?!"

Hurste hesitated an answer. The gabite (or so they seemed insistent upon calling him) could detect a level of spiteful detachment clear as day through Hurste's unassuming smile. The nuzleaf didn't bother even a glance in his direction before replying a simple: "No."

Arlon tossed Hurste aside with a swipe of its hand and planted a forceful punt to the gabite's chest, forcing the air from his lungs. That creature's foot felt like a wooden block ramming itself into his body. Just what were these creatures? Where was he? Just what was happening to him?

By the time he had gotten a hold of his breathing, he found Hurste standing upright again and looking past Arlon. The hairy beast eyed the elf: "Don't let this happen again, or I swear to Arceus himself I will finally get some use out of you when I use your corpse as kindling!" Not waiting for a response, Arlon turned on its heels and marched back to the group.

As the wooden creature faded into shadow, Hurste's fist quivered at his side. "He should watch how he speaks to me…" the nuzleaf whispered vilely. Yet with a breath of fresh air, the pokemon steeled its nerves.

"What are you-... monstruos…?" the gabite finally asked through the shock and pain. "You're not… human…"

The creature cackled aloud into the air. "You must be a real piece of work to have just figured that out!" Hurste loomed above him with a wicked grin. "Do I seem the hero type to you? No? Of course not! Because I'm a nuzleaf with a need for horror. Lucky for you, though, Arlon can't see past our Master's intentions and demands we keep you alive with the rest!" He then looked up in thought. "Well… I guess that's not so lucky after all considering he'll maim you for information once we arrive. What a shame. Oh well!"

The creature's wicked cackle echoed through the air, sending shivers down Dillan's spine. Hurste loomed menacingly above him, grinning with a disturbing delight. His words were dripping with sadism as he reveled in the terror of his captive. Dillan couldn't believe that someone would want to harm him so badly, let alone for information that he didn't even have.

As Hurste taunted him, Dillan's fear quickly turned to desperation. He bared his claws and swung wildly at the nuzleaf, but Hurste easily evaded his attacks. Desperate for a way out, Dillan scanned the grassy surroundings for any sign of help.

But it was too late. Hurste's sadistic joy turned into a frenzied attack, striking Dillan's head with a force that sent him spiraling into darkness. The last thing he heard was Hurste's chilling laugh, promising more pain and suffering to come.


A series of beeping sounded through the darkness. Visions slowly came into his brain as the familiarly horrid smells of sanitizer and latex filled his nose. The uncomfortable feeling of the mesh chair crept up his back as he slept. It made for a horrid bed with its hard plastic arm rests and its short back which left his head slumping awkwardly over the edge.

A cold, light touch tapped itself against his skin, arousing him from the darkness. He blinked a couple times, looking down at himself. His tattered jeans stained with grass on his knees and his black hoodie slumped itself over his waist.

Yet as he looked to his left, past a mechanical bed and its railings, he saw that familiar smile that brought him into the moment within an instant.

"Hey Grace," Dillan said groggily, pushing his blackened hair out of the way. He rubbed his eyes with his hands before staring back at the girl.

Only twelve years old, yet red dots from the countless needles marked her pale arms. Her normally-caramel skin was a sickly shade of white, and her smile seemed especially weary today. Dillan glanced towards the cold machines by her bedside, as their blinking displays let him know she was okay for the moment.

"Did you really fall asleep?" she laughed, albeit a bit weakly. "Aren't your naps in the park enough, tonto?"

Dillan couldn't help but smile. "What else was I supposed to do? You were asleep when I got here." His eyes wandered to the array of pill bottles resting on a nightstand beside the bed. "You needed the rest."

Grace groaned, slumping backwards into the pillows as her long, black hair obscured her caramel face. "You sound like all the doctors: boring."

Dillan laughed a bit before reaching down to a grey bag at his feet. "If it makes you feel any better, I brought, "Exploding Kittens" this time. We could play a few games."

Grace shot up excitedly at the mere mention of the card game. "Y. E. S! You've instantly made it back to my list of top favorite people!"

"Thank you for that," Dillan said. "Happy you have room for your hermano."

His hands rummaged through the bag before pulling out a big red box with a fiery design plastered to the front as a lone kitten looked up with crossed eyes as if ready to pop at any second. Truly one of the strangest games Dillan laid eyes upon, and one he never really understood the rules of. Yet it made Grace happy, so how bad could it really be?

He pulled a tray out from underneath the bed and set it on the bed across Grace's blanketed legs. He then scooted his chair closer to the bedside and set the box on the table. Yet as he did so, his vision began to shake.

"Wh…" Dillan began, yet that was all he could get out before his nose began to burn as if water rushed into his nostrils. He began coughing in the chair as the world darkened again. He went to reach for the bed's railing as he doubled over, but a white claw landed where his hand should have been.

He found it hard to focus on this strange transformation as the water seemed to rush into his lungs, forcing him on his side. He laid there, sputtering from the pain as he gasped for air. And as the world vanished into the darkness, he felt the chill rush over his entire body.

His eyes shot open before blinking out the water. He found his sight returned, allowing him to gaze upon the malicious face of Hurste.

"Wakey-wakey, gabite," it sneered.

Dillan's eyes shot around for any sign of Grace, yet he found the hospital around seemed to vanish with that rush of water. Instead of the mesh chair at his back, bark pressed against him. The dark of night still held the fields hostage to the shadows whilst Hurste's horrid form loomed above.

Dillan made to jolt from the ground, to swing at the malicious nuzleaf and take off running, yet a rough rope tied around his chest kept him pinned to the tree. Not only that, every movement he made seemed to increase the tension in the rope, as if it grew tighter the more he fought. He felt something on his back - some sort of extra appendage Dillan overlooked previously - bend from the rope's increasing pressure, causing the gabite great discomfort and pain.

"Oh ho ho!" the nuzleaf jeered at Dillan's continued struggles. "You have some spunk in you!" It patted a tree trunk above the gabite's head. "You'll notice that there are ropes tied around your chest keeping you nice and restrained. You won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

"What did I ever do to you?!" Dillan strained.

Hurste tapped a finger to its chin. "Can't really think of anything specific…"

"Just ignore the leafy screw-ball," a voice said from the gabite's left.

Both Hurste and Dillan looked towards the voice: a small creature similar to a squirrel suspended to the tree by the same kind of rope used to tie up the gabite. Blue ears sprouted off the top of its head while yellow circles sat on its cheeks.

"Who told you to get involved, pipsqueak?" Hurste snarled, stomping towards the squirrel.

The squirrel's upper lip twitched at the comment yet it sneered up defiantly at Hurste. "Your mother did. By the way, you should really write to her and let her know how much of a screw-up you turned int-"

With a forceful jab to the squirrel's stomach, they devolved into a hacking fit that made the gabite grimace.

"You should really keep your mouth shut! Unless you want to get beat!"

The squirrel managed to choke down his coughing and continued to sneer. "Why don't you untie this rope and we fight like real pokemon this time, huh?"

"I bet you'd like that! But I'd have just as much fun beating the hell out of you here, so why bother-"

"Huste!" a voice called out in a false whisper from behind the nuzleaf. "Arceus almighty! You're gonna wake up Arlon with all that noise!"

"Well, maybe he deserves it?!" Hurste snapped back. He waited a second for a response that never came. With a sigh, he looked towards the squirrel once again. "Watch who you're speaking to, runt! Or I'll beat you so badly, even Thalia will look like a kind aunt. Understand?" He didn't wait for a response, quickly throwing another jab at the squirrel's stomach and turning to Dillan. "And you! Don't think I've forgotten about you!"

"I don't wanna fight you!" the gabite insisted. "Just let me go and we'll go our separate-"

A slap across the face silenced him. He looked back at Hurste through the side of his eye. "That was a warning," the elf stated. "Give me a reason - any reason at all, really; I'm a very understanding pokemon - and I'll be doing a lot worse, got it? Take your ankle for example!" He took a few quick pokes at the now-swelling mass, to which the gabite seized. Hurste chuckled from Dillan's reaction. "Good! Glad we understand each other!" And with one more painful stomp to Dillan's ankle, Hurst walked off.

The gabite bit his lower lip as he looked towards the sky, focusing on his breath to get control of the pain. Breath after breath, his ankle began to numb until only a dull throb remained.

"You're lucky he didn't kill you," the squirrel's voice growled from beside him, sounding pretty weak: a stark difference from the confidence they had shown before. "I've seen that psycho do worse to pokemon for lesser reasons."

"Pokemon…" the gabite repeated. "You called yourself that before… right? Is that what you are?"

The squirrel laughed wryly. "You take a blow to the head or something?"

The gabite didn't say anything in response. That didn't seem like a stupid question to him, though perhaps it was. Did that mean, "pokemon" was a general term for these creatures?

Nevertheless, he moved on. "Do you know where they're taking us?"

The squirrel paused for a bit and his previous frown returned. "No," he replied grimly. "These pokemon are bad news though, so I don't expect an inn."

With gritted teeth, Dillan eyed the group of elf… pokemon… ahead. They sat quietly at a bonfire surrounded by newly-cut stumps, roasting what looked to be blue berries on spits made from nearby branches. They cheerfully whispered amongst themselves, enjoying the peace of the fire whilst ignoring audible whimpers that surrounded them. Behind the pokemon, tied to surrounding trees in the same fashion as the squirrel and Dillan, sat a multitude of battered creatures with tear-streaked faces and bruised forms. Some of them tried their best to keep from panicking while others were mumbling silent prayers.

These creatures… They surprised the gabite greatly. Most looked like everyday animals, just bigger and more colorful. Yet even from these brief interactions, they seemed more complex than that. They felt pain, anger, fear… they felt human.

Yet their fear was intoxicating. Dillan felt his breath quiver in his chest. His emotions seemed to leech off of theirs, leading to his own scared confusion. Were these elves going to kill him? Perhaps they'd burn him on the bonfire before passing his limbs out for a feast? And even if their leader - that Arlon guy - said he was to be kept alive for now, how long would that last? He wanted to scream and lash out at these… freaks, to get as far away from them as he could.

Dillan pulled at the ropes, trying to break free through pure force of will. Yet the more he pulled, the tighter they got. Eventually, it was as if he fought against the trunk of the tree itself.

The ropes squeezed at his chest, and Dillan held his head high as he took a shallow breath. "What… the hell are these…?" he hissed through clenched teeth.

"Binding ropes," the squirrel replied simply. "The Guild uses them to bring in criminals. They get tighter the more you pull at them. I'd stop pulling, that is unless suffocating is your thing."

The ropes sounded like magic to him. But how could that be? Magical ropes are normally things found in books… Then again, so was transforming into a blue-scaled beast.

"F-fine. The ropes f-fight back. Then how do we get out of h-ere?!"

The squirrel chuckled a grim sort of laugh. "I don't think you get what's going on here, pal. We're prisoners of one of the most ruthless groups in all of Ganderosa. These guys burn villages to the ground just to find some stupid-ass treasure. And in a few hours, they're going to kill us both. There is no escape. So do us both a favor and stop struggling, won't you?" The squirrel then shook their head in either disbelief or frustration.

"I'm not ready-… to quit!" Dillan made out, still fighting against his bindings. Veins began bulging through his scales as he focused on every muscle in his body. It had to give sometime, no matter what the rodent said. There was no way he'd give up. He couldn't surrender. He couldn't die yet. Not when Grace was still out there.

And as if a spark jolted through his arm, he felt something pop. It didn't feel like a bone breaking or anything like that, but the tension he'd built in his arm jumped out through the protruding fin. A blue light flashed through the dark; a soft glowing hue stood through the shadows that surprised both him and the squirrel. The light faded as quickly as it came, yet whatever it was seemed to loosen the rope.

"What…?" the squirrel asked, trying to see what caused the light through the corner of their eye. "What was that…? What are you doing?"

"I- I don't know…" he whispered. "Something in my arm… popped."

"Your arm…?" they asked. Their round eyes began scanning the ground rapidly. "What kind of pokemon are you again…? Gabite?" And while a knowing smirk spread across his face, he gave a small chuckle. "Gabite! Of course! You probably know Dragon Claw!"

"I what?"

"What are you, a moron?"

Dillan groaned in frustration. He wanted to shout at the squirrel that he wasn't supposed to be here at all, though that seemed like a bad call. Afterall, would he even believe him?

"Just pretend all of this is new to me for a second," Dillan stated with a hint of frustration. "What's 'Dragon Claw'?"

The squirrel groaned aloud "It's an attack! It's like… like, you focus on your arm… thingies and they… uh… shoot out! I can do the same thing with my teeth!"

"You're not making any sense right now…"

They sighed aloud before beating their head a couple times against the tree, mumbling something along the lines of, "Damn pacifists."

"Give me a break!" Dillan urged. "I don't see you doing a, 'Dragon Claw!'"

"Gee," the squirrel snidely said. "An Electric-type not knowing a Dragon-type move? Who'da thought that was a thing?"

"Do you wanna escape or n-" Dillan's words stopped in his mouth, being overpowered by the guttural shout pushing itself past his gritted teeth. His vision swayed at the flaring agony in his ankle. He tried pulling his leg back on instinct but found it pinned underneath the entire weight of Hurste.

"Of course not!" it answered for the squirrel while taking hold of the ropes around Dillan's waist. "Escaping would just mean I get to kill you: not that I mind!" With a yank of the fraying instrument, Dillan found it ripping itself from Hurste's hands and constricting his chest even more than before. His screams became stuck with his lungs as his body struggled to simply breathe. But Hurste refused to let up.

He stomped down with the twist of his foot upon Dillan's ankle, forcing the gabite's brain into a state of shock. His arms fought against the rope for a breath of fresh air while his legs began kicking to prevent his leg from severing.

The squirrel fought against their own restraints, risking his own suffocation as they shouted out: "Stop! Leave him alone! Stop it!" Their cheeks shot sparks off into the air for a mere second before their whole body became enveloped in blue electricity. Yet the electricity seemed to pass passively into the ropes leaving the squirrel to continue struggling.

Dilan's vision began to fade into the shadows. Yet his eyes stayed steady on Hurste's demonic grin. The gremlin showed no signs of remorse - no intention of listening to the squirrel's demands, insead cackling at their insistence. The beast grabbed Dillan by the chin and forced him to stare into the things hateful eyes.

They grew wide with demented joy, dilating as if to hyper-focus on the agony that twisted Dillan's face. Those eyes dug into Dillan's. They wanted nothing more than to rip him in two and stitch him back together again for no reason at all.

Dillan ripped his head from the nuzleaf's grip, barely coherent enough to do that. He started kicking at its leg with desperation behind each movement, yet the Nuzleaf hardly moved from the impacts.

"Hurste!" another nuzleaf growled from the bonfire. "Would you please torture him in the morning?! You're gonna wake Ar-"

Hurste's violent expression shot back at the previous nuzleaf. "Shut up!" it spat. "Stop talking to me! You're ruining the entire moment!" Its hand shot out like a piston, grappling Dillan's face and ripping it towards his own: towards those dead, sadistic eyes. "Don't turn away just yet! It's about to get REAL good…!"

With a thrust of his arm towards the night sky, a glowing blade of green energy seemed to spontaneously appear in Hurste's grip. He leveled the blade with Dillan's face. The gabite hardly had the energy to recoil as what felt like pure energy radiating off the blade prickled at his scales like tiny needles attacking every pore. Hurste brought the blade above his head, about to thrust it into the gabite's.

All the pain and fear seemed to vanish in a second. Dillan's vision flashed back towards that hospital bed. This couldn't be the end… could it? Would he never get to see his sister again? If he vanished without a trace like this, dead on the side of the road, would she survive?

But as the gabite waited to feel the blade thrust downward, he felt a relief of pressure in his ankle and the ropes. He gasped at the sudden shock slowly followed by an ease to the pain. And between the gasps and exhausted grunts, he risked a glance towards Hurste only to find the nuzleaf;s feet kicking wildly in the air as a leafy hand wrapped itself around the stem sprouting from his crown.

"M-mighty Arlon!" Hurste pleaded in exasperation. His hands desperately clawed at the air, trying to seize Arlon's grip above his head. "Please allow me to e-explain! The gabite was attempting to-"

Hurste's sentence broke at the shiftry's tightening grip around its leaf. Arlon yanked the nuzleaf through the camp and between onlookers towards the bonfire ahead. He held him towards the flames by the leaf, allowing the flames to lick at Hurste's back. The nuzleaf began screaming at the burning sensation it must have been feeling, yet Arlon showed no remorse as it began. "You've broken rank, ignored my orders-"

"A-Arlon!" Hurste pleaded over the shiftry's words, yet Arlon shook Hurste vigorously, bringing his body closer to the flames.

"Lost your captive," Arlon continued in a roar, "And now you've woken me up! Did you REALLY think this insubordination would stand for much longer, Hurste?!"

Dillan watched in slack-jawed horror. These things abused each other so effortlessly… and why? Yet as he continued to stare, he felt a fuzzy object tap itself against his thigh.

Looking for the source, Dillan found it came from the fuzzy tail of the squirrel. "Hey, Gabite!" they snapped. "They're distracted! Use 'Dragon Claw' and cut the rope already!"

It took a second for Dillan's mind to switch gears from being petrified by tonight's horrors to glancing ahead at the bonfire. The squirrel was right. All the nuzleaf watched on in fear while Arlon continued to rant at Hurste. They were distracted. This was his chance. As much as he thought this whole situation to be crazy, he didn't have time to question whether he could or couldn't use this Dragon Claw thing. He needed to escape now!

"Okay…!" Dillan said with a bit of uncertainty, rubbing his arms against the rough ropes. He felt his arm fins scraping up against the fraying bit. All he needed to do was summon that blue glow again… right? But… "How do I do this?"

"No clue!" the squirrel frantically stated. "But it can't be any different than any other attack, right?! Just… uh… focus on your arm-thingies and… move them! Oh, like you're moving a finger or… whatever you gabites have!"

Dillan took a deep breath. He couldn't say everything the squirrel said made sense to him, but he needed this to work. Sitting here for much longer would definitely kill him.

"Here goes…" the gabite said. He closed his eyes and attempted to move the fin like it were any other part of the body. He felt it shift ever so slightly, but nothing seemed to happen. There didn't seem to be enough force put behind it… perhaps he needed to…?

This time, Dillan bit hard on his tongue: one of the few things his dad had bothered to teach him to get his adrenaline pumping. He allowed the pain to invigorate him. Then, he focused on his fin and flexed, pushing it as hard as he could. And with a flash of blue light, the fin grew into a two-foot-long, glowing scythe that instantly severed the rope. Dillan lurched forwards but caught himself with an arm planted on his leg. Did… he really do that?

It took a moment for Dilan to steady himself. Afterall, exhaustion still bit at his brain from Hurste's horrid acts. Eventually, he held his arm out in front of him to observe this blade in amazement. The glowing scythe felt… warm - calming even. And as he shook his arm, he confirmed that it was, indeed, attached to himself. For the first time since he found himself here, he smiled. Perhaps this body had uses afterall.

"Hey!" the squirrel shouted. "What the hell are you sitting there for?! Untie me already!"

"Uh… r-right…" Dillan slowly turned his body towards the tree. His ankle ached from the mere movement with echoes of Hurste's treatment, but that didn't stop him from pressing the blue blade to the rope. As soon as the energy touched the fraying cords, they split and fell to the ground along with the squirrel.

Yet unlike Dillan, they anticipated the fall forwards and caught themselves effortlessly on their feet. As soon as the squirrel's little, white paws touched the grass, they took off in a full sprint around the group of nuzleaf, leaving the gabite to watch in stunned surprise.

"W-wait!" Dillan whispered after the creature. He attempted to stand, forgetting all about his broken bones. As he put the slightest pressure on the break, he bit hard on his lower lip to keep from screaming. He glanced down at his purple ankle and shivered. How would he ever escape with this injury getting in the way?

Yet just as he thought up the question, an answer appeared in front of him in the shape of a yellow berry held gently by a small paw. "Wh… what…?" The squirrel stood in front of him, panting from the sprint.

"It's a sitrus berry, stupid! I took it from the nuzleaf while they weren't looking! It'll help numb the pain so we can get out of here!"

"It does?" Dillan asked as he speared the berry on the tip of his claw. "Does it work that fast?"

"Duh!" the squirrel spat. "You do wanna escape now, ri-"

The squirrel was cut off by a sharp scream penetrating the chill of the air: Hurste. Dillan's scales stood on-end as he jerked towards the bonfire. He couldn't see the nuzleaf around the huddled bodies of its companions and Arlon's hairy back, but he knew based on that agonized scream what had been done. They were out of time.

He quickly sunk his teeth in the berry and consumed it in a matter of seconds. The squirrel didn't give him much time before pulling on his claw - not to help him stand more than coax him into doing so. As the gabite stood, he glanced down at his ankle and, anticipating the pain, slowly lowered it to the floor. The burning sensation felt as though a metal stake drove itself into his foot but it felt more manageable than before. He took another step to test himself and found he could walk, albeit unsteadily.

"Let's go!" the squirrel insisted, taking off ahead of Dillan. He made quick tracks ahead of Dillan but paused to let him catch up. And with each agonizing step forwards, Dillan did.

Uncertainties continued bombarding his brain, stirring the fear that brewed in his chest. Even so, he snarled through those feelings. Thoughts of Grace spurred him onward in spite of the agony. She drove him to fight. If there was even a chance of getting back to her, he would not stop. For her, he would fight the world itself.


A/N

Hello guys! This is about where the story is going to stop for the time being. I want to give the story consistent updates but to do that I want to separate the story into four segments. Once I have the first segment all written up, I'll start posting on a weekly basis.

Otherwise, I'm looking for betas to help check for spelling mistakes/poor grammar. Feel free to send me a note if you're interested :D

Until then, if you liked the first chapter, feel free to follow the story so you'll know when the next chapter comes out!

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy! Any future author's notes will be used to interact with comments posted to the story.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you guys in the next chapter!