Chapter 1
FistsTornAsunder
A deviation from the Design
- Pronouns
- He/him
An amnesiac Bulbasaur tries to make sense of his own identity, a deviation from the design. His friend, a Buizel hungry for adventure, wants to prove her worth to the ones around her. Together, in unison, they will have to discover the truth behind the mystery dungeon, and foil the plans of the secretive Usurper.
Hello, everyone.
I humbly present to you "All Our Tomorrows", a story that has been through so many iterations I've honestly lost track already. Every time I tried to write it, it fell apart, or I lost interest, or I went through something that made me rethink my priorities.
This time, however, I've finally managed to keep a consistent writing schedule, and I've properly planned ahead (maybe a bit too much), so I'm posting it here in search for feedback, since English is not my first language. Most of all, however, I'm doing it with the intention of reaching as many people as possible, and in hopes that someone gets some enjoyment out of it.
No content warnings as of yet, but considering this story may touch on very personal subjects, I may have to include them at some point. We'll see, I guess. In the meantime, here it goes.
There was, quite literally, very little in the small Pokémon's mind besides the urge to continue forward. Despite the morning fog that enshrouded his path almost as much as his mind, he had managed to left behind the unmerciful terrain of the crags after days of wandering alone. In front of him, the rocky road extended as far as his very limited field of view allowed him to see.
His four stubby legs were not made with that kind of terrain in mind. Swamps, forests, and grassy terrain were more fit for a Bulbasaur, who had yet to develop the thick skin his final form was known for. That, combined with the fear of being assaulted at any moment, made the traveler yearn for some kind of resting place that did not require him to sleep with one eye open.
The other thing bothering him, perhaps a bit more worrying, was the slow but sure dehydration of his body. Not only had his mouth dried up, but the increasingly heavy bulb on his back had started to itch horribly the night before, which stopped him from even being able to sleep properly. He did not quite understand his connection to the plant, but it did not take a genius to understand that it was complaining about being tied to a creature unable to provide it with its most basic sustenance.
The need for rest and water were just two of the things that compelled him to continue forward, the third one being a bit more complicated. He did not wish to dwell on those imperative needs, however, so he shook his head and continued onward.
After that point, it did not take long before he could finally discern the figure of another Pokémon near the side of the road. His eyes opened wide, but then he narrowed them again in an attempt to better understand the shape that stood in front of him, a dark blue blur that appeared to be resting on the floor.
"Hey!" he cried, using the last of his strength to approach the figure. He noticed the hoarseness in his own voice, after days of barely speaking, but paid it no mind. "Hello! Can you help me?"
Upon closer inspection, the Pokémon revealed itself to be a Sneasel. A female one, specifically, judging by the short red feather covering its left ear. She got up, almost immediately, and stared back at him with narrowed eyes.
"Who are you?" she hissed, her knees bent and her claws to her sides. "What do you want?"
Bulbasaur stopped dead in his tracks as he recognized the hostility in her pose. He stepped back a bit before clearing his throat.
"S-sorry," he said, slowly removing his dark brown hood. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just a traveler looking for something to eat or drink, and I was wondering if you could point me towards the nearest town."
The bipedal Pokémon relaxed her posture, although the suspicious look in her face did not disappear immediately.
"Is that so?" the bipedal Pokémon inquired. Her voice was breathy and a bit rough. "You certainly don't look like you're from around here. Not many grass-types dare to cross the crags without provisions, you know?"
Bulbasaur simply nodded. There was a lingering threat in her voice, still, so he decided he would proceed as carefully as possible.
"I'm not looking for trouble, I swear," he explained, daring to step a little closer. "And if I were, I mean, you're an ice-type, you should have no trouble dispatching me, right? Plus, I'm not exactly in great shape right now. I could not hurt you if I wanted to."
The Sneasel then took a moment to get a good look of the grass-type, walking in a circle around him while keeping her distance. She raised her eyebrows upon finishing her inspection, and her expression immediately changed into one of slight regret.
"I'm sorry," she said. "As I'm sure you understand, one can never be too careful when traversing these paths, especially around this time of the year. Many criminals use these abandoned roads to ambush travelers, and even pilgrims such as yourself."
"Pilgrims?" he repeated, confused. "No, I'm sorry, I'm just looking for the nearest town. I... don't think I have a destination in mind. Do a lot of pilgrims pass through here?"
"You don't know?" the dark-type Pokémon asked, subtle surprise in her tone. "You really are not from around here, then. The paths the pilgrims follow to reach the Obsidian Bastion are not far off from here. It began after the Usurpation, when... well, you know. We all cope in different ways, I suppose."
She paused and pointed a clawed finger towards the way Bulbasaur had come.
"It got to the point where some mountain dwellers began to come down at this time of the year, and most of them follow this path. Even them, who were not affected by the Usurpation in the slightest... the world is going crazy, I tell you."
"Then there's a town nearby, right?" Bulbasaur asked, eager to get to a place where he could get proper rest, and caring not for the Sneasel's contextless explanations. "Could you point me in its direction, please?"
"Bitterroot is close to here, as it happens," she explained. "Allow me to accompany you, since I was planning on heading back anyways. The town can get a little overbearing this time of year."
It was an unusual gesture of kindness from a Pokémon he had just met, Bulbasaur thought, but a very welcome one. If she was right about the pilgrims, then he would most likely need help navigating the town.
"Sure," replied the grass-type. "I just need a place to rest, and something to drink, if possible. The rest is secondary."
He had no money, of course, but he would worry about that when the time came. He had enough in his plate already.
"That thing on your back must be killing you… no worries, I know just the place," the Sneasel claimed with a knowing smile as she began to walk away. She motioned him to follow her. "Don't get separated, and we'll be there in no time."
The Bulbasaur nodded, reasonably more relaxed now. Despite her initial reaction, the Sneasel seemed fairly friendly now, and she had no real reason to hurt him, as far as he knew. There was something strange about her, to be sure, but every Pokémon he had crossed paths with up until then had been unusual in one way or another.
No matter, he thought. Once he did what he had come to do, it would all be over with, and he could continue with his life.
Or so he hoped, at least.
It had been a week since the yearly pilgrimage to the Obsidian Bastion began, and Caspia had had very little time to rest her body or mind during that time. Her job was not particularly difficult, but every day the inhabitants of Bitterroot seemed to find new ways of making it mentally exhausting.
"Get on with that already, you're scaring the costumers away!" a rusty old Loudred yelled as he emphatically motioned her to leave with both hands. "You think my clients come here to look at these guys' mugs?"
"Shut up, Lennard," Caspia snapped, not even bothering to look away from the 'wanted' poster she was currently putting up besides his stand.
Once she was done, the Buizel spat a bit of fresh water over her orange paws to quickly dissolve the adherent sap.
"If you don't let me do my job, the Rescue Department may get a tip about all the times I saw this guy at your store," she threatened, pointing, with now clean fingers, at the portrait of a suspicious-looking Hitmonchan that filled most of the poster.
The Loudred grumbled something, but ultimately decided to let the matter go. He went back inside the orb store, clenching his fists with barely contained rage, and Caspia had to stop herself from laughing out loud.
That'll keep him quiet for at least a couple days, she thought as she bent down to pick up her work materials and put them back inside her bag. The absence of more posters meant she was done for the day, and all that was left to do was to go fetch her payment.
She had gotten so used to the scores of Pokémon that passed through Bitterroot during the pilgrimage that she had developed an outstanding ability to evade the ever-shifting stream of bodies. Walking through the streets of the town during the first weeks of spring was like trying to navigate a battlefield, as all kinds of Pokémon were trying to make their way to any kind of lodging they could get their appendages on.
Thanks to her natural slipperiness, the Buizel had no trouble making her way through the overcrowded streets of a town whose layout she knew by memory. She made a conscious effort to avoid contact with any strangers, which was an impressive skill considering she had to carry a large leather bag with her at all times, along with her trusty sap bucket.
She began to make plans for the rest of her day as she crossed the street that led to the Bitterroot Rescue Department headquarters. It was a stark, stone building, famous for being among the oldest in the town. And it showed, Caspia thought, as it appeared to look grimier and more deteriorated with each passing week.
"Any day, this place is going to fall apart…" mumbled the Buizel as she approached the main door. The rock walls at both sides of it were chipped and covered in moss, and certainly looked like even the weakest attack could cause them to collapse.
Caspia had certainly fantasized with that idea, and she held absolutely no regrets. Seeing that old, rotting place finally topple down, freeing her of such a boring, repetitive job, would certainly be a sight to behold.
Before she could reach the door of the building, however, she saw two familiar Pokémon cross it in the opposite direction. Her face lit up instantly as she recognized the proud but delicate gait of the purple Sylveon, and the muscular Marowak that followed soon behind.
"Good morning, Caspia," the Sylveon greeted her in a sweet, almost musical tone. "Here to get paid, I assume?"
"You know that's the only reason I actually come here, Darian," replied Caspia. She raised the metal bucket in her left hand. "And to return this. You guys back from a mission?"
"Not really, no," Darian said, looking somewhat embarrassed, as he used one of the ribbons coming out of his ears to scratch his chin."Marv sent me to check everything was going smoothly with the pilgrimages. And since I didn't want to come alone, I asked Raokan to join me!"
Upon hearing his name, the dark blue Marowak waved in their general direction. He planted his massive bone club on the floor, in front of him, and placed his hands on the handle.
"You know how good he is at dragging me into this kind of thing," he said. His tone denoted slight annoyance, but Caspia had known him for long enough to understand the friendly banter between the two. "But I get why he did. This place is a nightmare to traverse at this time of the year."
Caspia let out a sardonic chuckle.
"I mean, it's not like the Rescue Department gets any less crappy the rest of the year," she noted with a shrug. "But, during the pilgrimage, these guys get to capture more criminals, so at least they can pretend like this place isn't a total joke."
Raokan snorted, but spoke nothing else of the matter. Darian, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly troubled about the comment, and stepped towards the Buizel.
"Unofficially, I agree with you," he said in a lower voice. "But considering the state of things, it's important for us to we make sure this place keeps working, even under the circumstances."
"I guess..."
"Besides, it's not all bad!" the Sylveon added, returning to his usual, more whimsical tone of voice. "The posters you put up are really helping!"
Caspia wanted to take that as a compliment, she really did. She knew that Darian was saying it with the best intentions in mind, but there was something deeply sad about the idea that her biggest accomplishment in her decade and a half on Bitterroot was being good at a monotone job she did not even enjoy.
"Yeah, sure," she brushed off the comment with a light chuckle.
"I'm not joking!" Darian insisted, gently placing his left paw on the Buizel's shoulder. "Just today, they captured that one Bulbasaur criminal that has been on the run for years. If it weren't for all your hard work, I'm sure he would've never been identified!"
Caspia's eyes widened. Now, that was something that she was not expecting to hear that day… or any day, for that matter. She had been seeing that Bulbasaur's face ever since she started working for the Rescue Department, and all her questions about his crimes had only been met with complete uncertainty.
"Really?" she asked, her eyebrows rising. "Took them long enough. Did they tell you what he did?"
"They don't know, either," replied the Sylveon. "Perhaps it's been so long that even they don't remember what he was supposed to be arrested for…"
"Figures," Caspia said with a roll of the eyes. "It's kind of a miracle they don't forget to pay me at the end of the month, so I guess keeping track of the criminals they're supposed to catch is too much to ask."
Darian let out an awkward chuckle. Caspia knew the Sylveon was sympathetic to her situation, but there was very little he could do about it that he had not tried yet.
"We should really get going, Darian," Raokan said, pointing her thumb towards the road behind them. "It is getting late, and I do not want to miss lunch again."
"Yeah, you guys go eat lunch!" Caspia parroted, her mischievous smile returning to her face. "I'm going to go check out that Bulbasaur outlaw. You know, for research purposes!"
"Be careful in there," warned the Sylveon, his voiced tinged with concern. "Marv would never forgive me if he found out you got in trouble because of me."
"Bet he would thank you for getting rid of me," Caspia replied, accompanying her statement with a sarcastic laugh. "No, but seriously, tell him I still want to join you guys. It would be a dream come true."
"I… I know that, dear," Darian's worry turned into sadness, even pity. Caspia averted her gaze, fearing she had come off as too direct. "I'll see what I can do, yes?"
The young Buizel nodded, and gave her friend a faint smile. As she watched Darian and Raokan leave, she was overcome by a deep sense of powerlessness, though, and quicky turned away so she could focus on her immediate surroundings.
She spent a few more moments in silence, composing herself, before finally walking into the building.
The main hall of the Rescue Department was as crowded as usual, which was not a lot. Caspia took a good look at the place as she waited for the receptionist to pay her and saw only bored Pokémon moving paperwork around, with so little energy she wondered if some of them might be sleepwalking.
She grimaced as she imagined herself trapped in such an unsavory job, and felt thankful that she could, at least, go outside and socialize a bit. Sure, the actual rescue teams could also do that, but she had long given up the dream of being accepted into one, even if her credentials were better than the average. The only other possibility was to work behind a desk the rest of her life, and she was pretty sure she was going to either quit or go insane before that happened.
While the Ludicolo at the reception desk counted her money, she impatiently gazed upon the entrance of the hallway that led to the containment area. So distracted she was, that she didn't even check if the amount was right when the receptionist finally handed her the money, despite knowing that the Pokémon was infamous for pocketing considerable amounts of some of the employees' money.
Any other Pokémon her size would've been scared as a Wimpod to walk so nonchalantly in front of the cells of dangerous criminals, but Caspia trusted her own abilities enough to not feel endangered by any Pokémon of their kind. As long as they were between bars, of course. Besides, the place was mostly empty, and not exactly what one would call intimidating: the stone hallway was grey and dull, with small shiny stones placed on each side to allow employees some visibility.
Many times had the young Buizel strolled past those cells to take a good look at recently captured outlaws, so the two Watchog standing guard did not even ask for her identification. She walked past empty cell after empty cell, eager to find the Pokémon she wanted to interview. She did not have to wait long, as she soon found herself looking at a tired-looking Bulbasaur, curled up in a ball in the corner of his cell.
"There you are," Caspia said, leaning against the bars of the cell. "You've been causing a lot of headaches around here, haven't you, little guy?"
The Bulbasaur turned his hood-covered head to look at her. Much to her surprise, he didn't look angry, or even slightly annoyed at her presence. If anything, he looked happy to see her, as he immediately got up and approached the door of the cell.
Out of pure instinct, Caspia hastily took a few steps back.
"That's close enough," she stated, raising a paw to emphasize her point. The Bulbasaur seemed to get the point, and immediately stopped walking. Her eyes narrowed once she got a good look at his face. "Hm, that's kinda weird. You look way too friendly for a wanted criminal."
"A criminal?" the Bulbasaur asked. He sounded way more innocent than what Caspia could've imagined, but during all her years working at the Department, she had learned that the more friendly a criminal looked, the more likely they were to stab her in the back. "Do yo know who I am?"
She took a careful step towards the cell, although her guard did not lower. She knew that if she got in trouble there, it would only be her fault, and she did not want to have to hear from her superiors if she messed up.
"I work here, dummy," she replied, knocking her left knuckle against her forehead. "Of course I know who you are! I've seen the face of every outlaw that has ever set foot in Bitterroot at least once. And I mean that literally, cause-"
"No, that's not what I mean," the Bulbasaur interrupted her, assuming a more attentive position. He removed his hood with one of his front paws. "I mean, do you know my name? Can you tell me who I am, or where I'm from, or… anything? Any tiny bit of information will do, at this point."
Caspia tilted her head to the side. She found herself strangely reassured by his tone: if he was putting up an act, he was very good at it. He would have to try way harder than that to make her drop her guard, though.
"Is… is this a trick?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get information out of me, or something? Because it's not going to work, dude. I'm way too smart to fall for your tricks!"
"What? No!" the Bulbasaur yelped. He stepped back and scratched his chin. He seemed more confused about the situation than her, Caspia thought. "I'm not trying to trick you, seriously. I just… it's hard to explain, alright? But, if you have any kind of information about me at all, I need you to tell me right now!"
"Alright, slow down," Caspia said. She pinched the bridge of her nose with one of her paws. "What are you talking about? I came here because I wanted to know more about you. That's kind of how it works, right? The enforcers do it all the time when they interrogate a criminal."
The confusion in the Bulbasaur's face gave away to frustration. He sat back down, mumbling something to himself, and Caspia began to question the Pokémon's sanity. Despite her curiosity, she had started to think she may be better off leaving the grass-type alone for the time being.
There was an aching in her mind, though, something compelling her to continue talking to him, if only because of how paradoxical the situation seemed. Plus, she was not about to waste her trip to the containment area.
"Alright, I'll tell you what I know," she lied, relaxing her posture. "After you tell me how you got yourself in this mess, cause I really want to know what's your deal. Reciprocity, as they say. You help me, I help you, yadda yadda yadda…"
The Bulbasaur looked a bit surprised by her cooperative demeanor, and initially Caspia believed he had seen right through her lie. After a while, though, the prisoner began to scratch the back of his head, his lips slightly pursed as he uttered his response.
"That's the thing, though," he said. "I don't really know what I did. I came to this town looking for someone, a Pokémon recognized me from one of those wanted posters, and they threw me in here without asking questions!" he looked straight at Caspia's eyes. "I swear, that's all I can tell you right now, because it's all I remember."
Caspia was not having any of that, though. It was the laziest, less interesting variation of the 'I'm innocent' rant she'd seen yet, and that was saying a lot considering how many outlaws she'd had the pleasure of talking to through the years.
"Welp, you're not as interesting as I thought you would be, that's for sure," she concluded, rolling her eyes. "If you don't want to tell me anything, you don't have to, but this little conversation is over. Thanks for wasting my time, I guess."
She turned around with full intention to leave. This made the Bulbasaur go back to his desperate pleas, and he pressed his body against the bars in an attempt to get her attention again. By the time he managed to slip one of his front legs through the bars of his cell, however, Caspia was already too far away for him to do anything.
"No, wait!" he cried. "Please, don't leave! I really don't have any idea of what's going on! I just… I remember what the guards said! They were taking orders from something called, uh… the Obsidian Army? Or the Obsidian… something, I can't really recall."
Caspia stopped dead in her tracks.
You're kidding me, she thought. There's no way this is what this guy's been about all this time, right?
"The Obsidian Order," she corrected him. She turned around, dead serious, and looked at the Bulbasaur straight in the eye. "You're saying they were talking about the Obsidian Order?"
"Yeah, that was it," the grass-type replied as he backed away a bit, physically recoiling in reaction to Caspia's sudden change in tone. "Does that… ring a bell?"
Now, if the Bulbasaur was indeed trying to deceive her, he was doing an astonishing job, because the confusion in his eyes was anything but fake. If he was telling the truth, however, and he had some kind of relationship with the Obsidian Order, then he was certainly worth her time, more than she could have initially imagined. The question now was: was she really going to give him a chance just based on that assumption?
She took a deep breath before examining her surroundings. She wondered how much time she had before the guards started to wonder what was taking her so long.
"It does, actually," she replied. Her change in tone must have been particularly drastic, because the Bulbasaur's expression went from desperate to curious almost immediately. "What did they say about them?"
"Um, not a whole lot, actually," the Bulbasaur confessed. "They mentioned they were waiting for them to come pick me up instead of sending me straight to jail."
"That makes no sense…" Caspia mumbled.
She knew some Pokémon respected the authority of the Obsidian Order, but she had never heard of a collective directly working under fact, the opposite was true in most occasions: the Obsidian Order worked alone, and allowed no outsiders into their ranks. The whole affair was getting more suspicious by the moment...
And, even then, the genuine confusion in the Bulbasaur's voice, combined with the strange circumstances surrounding his imprisonment, compelled her to believe him.
"Who are those guys, though?" the grass-type asked.
"Too long to tell," drily replied the young Buizel. She turned her head towards the entrance once more, considering her options. She wondered if the guards were working with the Order as well. "All you need to know right now is that they mean trouble."
The Bulbasaur slowly nodded. An awkward silence slowly settled around them, as Caspia tried to come up with a sensible course of action. Perhaps it was the sincere curiosity displayed by the Bulbasaur, or perhaps the fact that the line that was being crossed had completely messed with her moral compass, but she had a tough decision to make… and the more time she spent thinking about it, the less likely she was to succeed.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," she concluded, "but I don't think you're lying. And you need to believe me when I tell you you don't want to be here when the Obsidian Order shows up."
"Then… can you help me get out?"
There it was. The one decisive question, the inquiry that had the potential to change her life, for better or worse. It was so simple, and so easy to answer, that it almost felt deceiving: everything she ever wanted from her job, from her father… on the palm of her paw.
She looked at the Bulbasaur again, and she made her decision.
"Alright," she said. "I may not fully trust you, but I can't just sit back and watch those morons take you away to do Arceus knows what to you."
"J-just like that?" inquired the Bulbasaur. "I mean, not that I'm not thankful, but I thought it would take a bit more convincing to get you to help me."
Caspia let out a tired sigh.
"Look, I can't give you all the details right now, but it's not like I care that much about this job anyway," she explained. "I'm going to get you to a place where they can help you. The second I start to suspect you, though, I'll throw you in here again. You get me?"
"Yeah, I guess…"
"Then stand back if you don't want to get hurt."
Upon hearing those words, the grass-type Pokémon immediately moved away from the door. Caspia then lifted her head, struggling a bit to recall the technique she had learned a few years ago. She had lost a bit of practice, but she was fairly sure she could still replicate it, at least to a point where it became useful.
She began to salivate, as if she was readying a water move. Instead of releasing it immediately, though, she concentrated on imagining the process through which water becomes ice. Soon, she began to feel the cold gather in her mouth and, fearing she would lose control of the attack, she opened her mouth. Instead of simply spitting out the icy water, though, she released a small but potent wave of cold breath that froze the lock to the door almost instantly.
The Bulbasaur tilted his head to the side, then touched the now frozen lock with one of his front legs. Upon feeling the coldness, however, he quickly recoiled. His skin was vulnerable to extreme temperatures, and he had started to feel a quite annoying tingle running through the tips of his fingers before even touching the lock.
"That's… impressive," he commented as he shook his paw to get rid of the feeling. "How did you know that would work?"
Caspia soon found herself gasping for air, and she leaned against the bars of the cell to rest her body.
"Wasn't… hard to figure out…" she said between labored breaths. "Huff, sorry. These cells weren't built with ice-types in mind. They can handle fire, punches, acid... all that stuff. But I've worked here long enough to know their weakness!"
It took her a few seconds to regain her composure. After she did, she finished the job by hitting the frozen lock with her elbow with enough strength that it crumbled under her paw, icy pieces covering the floor beside her feet.
Still feeling the adrenaline rush of the two attacks she'd performed, she grabbed the Bulbasaur by his cloak and dragged him out of the cell before he even had a chance to thank her. She paid no mind to the ice shards she failed to avoid stepping on.
"Now, listen closely, Bulbasaur," she said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. "You've seen what I can do with my ice attacks, so don't try anything weird. If you come with me, I promise you I'll keep you safe from those guys, but you have to trust me as much as I'm trusting you."
"I already told you I'm not trying to trick you," quietly stated the Bulbasaur before pulling away from her. "I'll do whatever you want, seriously. There's some stuff I need to take care of, so as long as you can get me out of here, I won't cause trouble."
"Good to know," replied Caspia. She crossed her arms and looked at the entrance to the hallway, wondering how she was going to manage to slip the Bulbasaur past all of the workers. "Alright, before we get out of here we need to take care of the guards. Can you use your powers on them?"
The Bulbasaur was then able to take a good look at his rescuer for the first time, thanks to the dim light of the shiny stones. Caspia suddenly felt slightly self-conscious about her unkept fur.
"Sure, why not," the Bulbasaur finally replied, although his voiced betrayed his nervousness. "It's not like I have anything to lose…"
"Cool," replied the Buizel. "Cause your powers are going to be especially useful against them!"
She began to quietly walk towards the end of the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible, and making sure the Bulbasaur was following her.
Their escape promised to be quite challenging, and risky for both of them, each for their own reasons, but Caspia felt a kind of hope she hadn't felt in a long time, and that was enough for her.
Hello, everyone.
I humbly present to you "All Our Tomorrows", a story that has been through so many iterations I've honestly lost track already. Every time I tried to write it, it fell apart, or I lost interest, or I went through something that made me rethink my priorities.
This time, however, I've finally managed to keep a consistent writing schedule, and I've properly planned ahead (maybe a bit too much), so I'm posting it here in search for feedback, since English is not my first language. Most of all, however, I'm doing it with the intention of reaching as many people as possible, and in hopes that someone gets some enjoyment out of it.
No content warnings as of yet, but considering this story may touch on very personal subjects, I may have to include them at some point. We'll see, I guess. In the meantime, here it goes.
Chapter 1:
I Appear Missing
I Appear Missing
There was, quite literally, very little in the small Pokémon's mind besides the urge to continue forward. Despite the morning fog that enshrouded his path almost as much as his mind, he had managed to left behind the unmerciful terrain of the crags after days of wandering alone. In front of him, the rocky road extended as far as his very limited field of view allowed him to see.
His four stubby legs were not made with that kind of terrain in mind. Swamps, forests, and grassy terrain were more fit for a Bulbasaur, who had yet to develop the thick skin his final form was known for. That, combined with the fear of being assaulted at any moment, made the traveler yearn for some kind of resting place that did not require him to sleep with one eye open.
The other thing bothering him, perhaps a bit more worrying, was the slow but sure dehydration of his body. Not only had his mouth dried up, but the increasingly heavy bulb on his back had started to itch horribly the night before, which stopped him from even being able to sleep properly. He did not quite understand his connection to the plant, but it did not take a genius to understand that it was complaining about being tied to a creature unable to provide it with its most basic sustenance.
The need for rest and water were just two of the things that compelled him to continue forward, the third one being a bit more complicated. He did not wish to dwell on those imperative needs, however, so he shook his head and continued onward.
After that point, it did not take long before he could finally discern the figure of another Pokémon near the side of the road. His eyes opened wide, but then he narrowed them again in an attempt to better understand the shape that stood in front of him, a dark blue blur that appeared to be resting on the floor.
"Hey!" he cried, using the last of his strength to approach the figure. He noticed the hoarseness in his own voice, after days of barely speaking, but paid it no mind. "Hello! Can you help me?"
Upon closer inspection, the Pokémon revealed itself to be a Sneasel. A female one, specifically, judging by the short red feather covering its left ear. She got up, almost immediately, and stared back at him with narrowed eyes.
"Who are you?" she hissed, her knees bent and her claws to her sides. "What do you want?"
Bulbasaur stopped dead in his tracks as he recognized the hostility in her pose. He stepped back a bit before clearing his throat.
"S-sorry," he said, slowly removing his dark brown hood. "I didn't mean to startle you. I'm just a traveler looking for something to eat or drink, and I was wondering if you could point me towards the nearest town."
The bipedal Pokémon relaxed her posture, although the suspicious look in her face did not disappear immediately.
"Is that so?" the bipedal Pokémon inquired. Her voice was breathy and a bit rough. "You certainly don't look like you're from around here. Not many grass-types dare to cross the crags without provisions, you know?"
Bulbasaur simply nodded. There was a lingering threat in her voice, still, so he decided he would proceed as carefully as possible.
"I'm not looking for trouble, I swear," he explained, daring to step a little closer. "And if I were, I mean, you're an ice-type, you should have no trouble dispatching me, right? Plus, I'm not exactly in great shape right now. I could not hurt you if I wanted to."
The Sneasel then took a moment to get a good look of the grass-type, walking in a circle around him while keeping her distance. She raised her eyebrows upon finishing her inspection, and her expression immediately changed into one of slight regret.
"I'm sorry," she said. "As I'm sure you understand, one can never be too careful when traversing these paths, especially around this time of the year. Many criminals use these abandoned roads to ambush travelers, and even pilgrims such as yourself."
"Pilgrims?" he repeated, confused. "No, I'm sorry, I'm just looking for the nearest town. I... don't think I have a destination in mind. Do a lot of pilgrims pass through here?"
"You don't know?" the dark-type Pokémon asked, subtle surprise in her tone. "You really are not from around here, then. The paths the pilgrims follow to reach the Obsidian Bastion are not far off from here. It began after the Usurpation, when... well, you know. We all cope in different ways, I suppose."
She paused and pointed a clawed finger towards the way Bulbasaur had come.
"It got to the point where some mountain dwellers began to come down at this time of the year, and most of them follow this path. Even them, who were not affected by the Usurpation in the slightest... the world is going crazy, I tell you."
"Then there's a town nearby, right?" Bulbasaur asked, eager to get to a place where he could get proper rest, and caring not for the Sneasel's contextless explanations. "Could you point me in its direction, please?"
"Bitterroot is close to here, as it happens," she explained. "Allow me to accompany you, since I was planning on heading back anyways. The town can get a little overbearing this time of year."
It was an unusual gesture of kindness from a Pokémon he had just met, Bulbasaur thought, but a very welcome one. If she was right about the pilgrims, then he would most likely need help navigating the town.
"Sure," replied the grass-type. "I just need a place to rest, and something to drink, if possible. The rest is secondary."
He had no money, of course, but he would worry about that when the time came. He had enough in his plate already.
"That thing on your back must be killing you… no worries, I know just the place," the Sneasel claimed with a knowing smile as she began to walk away. She motioned him to follow her. "Don't get separated, and we'll be there in no time."
The Bulbasaur nodded, reasonably more relaxed now. Despite her initial reaction, the Sneasel seemed fairly friendly now, and she had no real reason to hurt him, as far as he knew. There was something strange about her, to be sure, but every Pokémon he had crossed paths with up until then had been unusual in one way or another.
No matter, he thought. Once he did what he had come to do, it would all be over with, and he could continue with his life.
Or so he hoped, at least.
FistsTornAsunder presents
A Pokémon fanfiction
A Pokémon fanfiction
BOOK I:
SEEDS
SEEDS
It had been a week since the yearly pilgrimage to the Obsidian Bastion began, and Caspia had had very little time to rest her body or mind during that time. Her job was not particularly difficult, but every day the inhabitants of Bitterroot seemed to find new ways of making it mentally exhausting.
"Get on with that already, you're scaring the costumers away!" a rusty old Loudred yelled as he emphatically motioned her to leave with both hands. "You think my clients come here to look at these guys' mugs?"
"Shut up, Lennard," Caspia snapped, not even bothering to look away from the 'wanted' poster she was currently putting up besides his stand.
Once she was done, the Buizel spat a bit of fresh water over her orange paws to quickly dissolve the adherent sap.
"If you don't let me do my job, the Rescue Department may get a tip about all the times I saw this guy at your store," she threatened, pointing, with now clean fingers, at the portrait of a suspicious-looking Hitmonchan that filled most of the poster.
The Loudred grumbled something, but ultimately decided to let the matter go. He went back inside the orb store, clenching his fists with barely contained rage, and Caspia had to stop herself from laughing out loud.
That'll keep him quiet for at least a couple days, she thought as she bent down to pick up her work materials and put them back inside her bag. The absence of more posters meant she was done for the day, and all that was left to do was to go fetch her payment.
She had gotten so used to the scores of Pokémon that passed through Bitterroot during the pilgrimage that she had developed an outstanding ability to evade the ever-shifting stream of bodies. Walking through the streets of the town during the first weeks of spring was like trying to navigate a battlefield, as all kinds of Pokémon were trying to make their way to any kind of lodging they could get their appendages on.
Thanks to her natural slipperiness, the Buizel had no trouble making her way through the overcrowded streets of a town whose layout she knew by memory. She made a conscious effort to avoid contact with any strangers, which was an impressive skill considering she had to carry a large leather bag with her at all times, along with her trusty sap bucket.
She began to make plans for the rest of her day as she crossed the street that led to the Bitterroot Rescue Department headquarters. It was a stark, stone building, famous for being among the oldest in the town. And it showed, Caspia thought, as it appeared to look grimier and more deteriorated with each passing week.
"Any day, this place is going to fall apart…" mumbled the Buizel as she approached the main door. The rock walls at both sides of it were chipped and covered in moss, and certainly looked like even the weakest attack could cause them to collapse.
Caspia had certainly fantasized with that idea, and she held absolutely no regrets. Seeing that old, rotting place finally topple down, freeing her of such a boring, repetitive job, would certainly be a sight to behold.
Before she could reach the door of the building, however, she saw two familiar Pokémon cross it in the opposite direction. Her face lit up instantly as she recognized the proud but delicate gait of the purple Sylveon, and the muscular Marowak that followed soon behind.
"Good morning, Caspia," the Sylveon greeted her in a sweet, almost musical tone. "Here to get paid, I assume?"
"You know that's the only reason I actually come here, Darian," replied Caspia. She raised the metal bucket in her left hand. "And to return this. You guys back from a mission?"
"Not really, no," Darian said, looking somewhat embarrassed, as he used one of the ribbons coming out of his ears to scratch his chin."Marv sent me to check everything was going smoothly with the pilgrimages. And since I didn't want to come alone, I asked Raokan to join me!"
Upon hearing his name, the dark blue Marowak waved in their general direction. He planted his massive bone club on the floor, in front of him, and placed his hands on the handle.
"You know how good he is at dragging me into this kind of thing," he said. His tone denoted slight annoyance, but Caspia had known him for long enough to understand the friendly banter between the two. "But I get why he did. This place is a nightmare to traverse at this time of the year."
Caspia let out a sardonic chuckle.
"I mean, it's not like the Rescue Department gets any less crappy the rest of the year," she noted with a shrug. "But, during the pilgrimage, these guys get to capture more criminals, so at least they can pretend like this place isn't a total joke."
Raokan snorted, but spoke nothing else of the matter. Darian, on the other hand, seemed to be slightly troubled about the comment, and stepped towards the Buizel.
"Unofficially, I agree with you," he said in a lower voice. "But considering the state of things, it's important for us to we make sure this place keeps working, even under the circumstances."
"I guess..."
"Besides, it's not all bad!" the Sylveon added, returning to his usual, more whimsical tone of voice. "The posters you put up are really helping!"
Caspia wanted to take that as a compliment, she really did. She knew that Darian was saying it with the best intentions in mind, but there was something deeply sad about the idea that her biggest accomplishment in her decade and a half on Bitterroot was being good at a monotone job she did not even enjoy.
"Yeah, sure," she brushed off the comment with a light chuckle.
"I'm not joking!" Darian insisted, gently placing his left paw on the Buizel's shoulder. "Just today, they captured that one Bulbasaur criminal that has been on the run for years. If it weren't for all your hard work, I'm sure he would've never been identified!"
Caspia's eyes widened. Now, that was something that she was not expecting to hear that day… or any day, for that matter. She had been seeing that Bulbasaur's face ever since she started working for the Rescue Department, and all her questions about his crimes had only been met with complete uncertainty.
"Really?" she asked, her eyebrows rising. "Took them long enough. Did they tell you what he did?"
"They don't know, either," replied the Sylveon. "Perhaps it's been so long that even they don't remember what he was supposed to be arrested for…"
"Figures," Caspia said with a roll of the eyes. "It's kind of a miracle they don't forget to pay me at the end of the month, so I guess keeping track of the criminals they're supposed to catch is too much to ask."
Darian let out an awkward chuckle. Caspia knew the Sylveon was sympathetic to her situation, but there was very little he could do about it that he had not tried yet.
"We should really get going, Darian," Raokan said, pointing her thumb towards the road behind them. "It is getting late, and I do not want to miss lunch again."
"Yeah, you guys go eat lunch!" Caspia parroted, her mischievous smile returning to her face. "I'm going to go check out that Bulbasaur outlaw. You know, for research purposes!"
"Be careful in there," warned the Sylveon, his voiced tinged with concern. "Marv would never forgive me if he found out you got in trouble because of me."
"Bet he would thank you for getting rid of me," Caspia replied, accompanying her statement with a sarcastic laugh. "No, but seriously, tell him I still want to join you guys. It would be a dream come true."
"I… I know that, dear," Darian's worry turned into sadness, even pity. Caspia averted her gaze, fearing she had come off as too direct. "I'll see what I can do, yes?"
The young Buizel nodded, and gave her friend a faint smile. As she watched Darian and Raokan leave, she was overcome by a deep sense of powerlessness, though, and quicky turned away so she could focus on her immediate surroundings.
She spent a few more moments in silence, composing herself, before finally walking into the building.
The main hall of the Rescue Department was as crowded as usual, which was not a lot. Caspia took a good look at the place as she waited for the receptionist to pay her and saw only bored Pokémon moving paperwork around, with so little energy she wondered if some of them might be sleepwalking.
She grimaced as she imagined herself trapped in such an unsavory job, and felt thankful that she could, at least, go outside and socialize a bit. Sure, the actual rescue teams could also do that, but she had long given up the dream of being accepted into one, even if her credentials were better than the average. The only other possibility was to work behind a desk the rest of her life, and she was pretty sure she was going to either quit or go insane before that happened.
While the Ludicolo at the reception desk counted her money, she impatiently gazed upon the entrance of the hallway that led to the containment area. So distracted she was, that she didn't even check if the amount was right when the receptionist finally handed her the money, despite knowing that the Pokémon was infamous for pocketing considerable amounts of some of the employees' money.
Any other Pokémon her size would've been scared as a Wimpod to walk so nonchalantly in front of the cells of dangerous criminals, but Caspia trusted her own abilities enough to not feel endangered by any Pokémon of their kind. As long as they were between bars, of course. Besides, the place was mostly empty, and not exactly what one would call intimidating: the stone hallway was grey and dull, with small shiny stones placed on each side to allow employees some visibility.
Many times had the young Buizel strolled past those cells to take a good look at recently captured outlaws, so the two Watchog standing guard did not even ask for her identification. She walked past empty cell after empty cell, eager to find the Pokémon she wanted to interview. She did not have to wait long, as she soon found herself looking at a tired-looking Bulbasaur, curled up in a ball in the corner of his cell.
"There you are," Caspia said, leaning against the bars of the cell. "You've been causing a lot of headaches around here, haven't you, little guy?"
The Bulbasaur turned his hood-covered head to look at her. Much to her surprise, he didn't look angry, or even slightly annoyed at her presence. If anything, he looked happy to see her, as he immediately got up and approached the door of the cell.
Out of pure instinct, Caspia hastily took a few steps back.
"That's close enough," she stated, raising a paw to emphasize her point. The Bulbasaur seemed to get the point, and immediately stopped walking. Her eyes narrowed once she got a good look at his face. "Hm, that's kinda weird. You look way too friendly for a wanted criminal."
"A criminal?" the Bulbasaur asked. He sounded way more innocent than what Caspia could've imagined, but during all her years working at the Department, she had learned that the more friendly a criminal looked, the more likely they were to stab her in the back. "Do yo know who I am?"
She took a careful step towards the cell, although her guard did not lower. She knew that if she got in trouble there, it would only be her fault, and she did not want to have to hear from her superiors if she messed up.
"I work here, dummy," she replied, knocking her left knuckle against her forehead. "Of course I know who you are! I've seen the face of every outlaw that has ever set foot in Bitterroot at least once. And I mean that literally, cause-"
"No, that's not what I mean," the Bulbasaur interrupted her, assuming a more attentive position. He removed his hood with one of his front paws. "I mean, do you know my name? Can you tell me who I am, or where I'm from, or… anything? Any tiny bit of information will do, at this point."
Caspia tilted her head to the side. She found herself strangely reassured by his tone: if he was putting up an act, he was very good at it. He would have to try way harder than that to make her drop her guard, though.
"Is… is this a trick?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you trying to get information out of me, or something? Because it's not going to work, dude. I'm way too smart to fall for your tricks!"
"What? No!" the Bulbasaur yelped. He stepped back and scratched his chin. He seemed more confused about the situation than her, Caspia thought. "I'm not trying to trick you, seriously. I just… it's hard to explain, alright? But, if you have any kind of information about me at all, I need you to tell me right now!"
"Alright, slow down," Caspia said. She pinched the bridge of her nose with one of her paws. "What are you talking about? I came here because I wanted to know more about you. That's kind of how it works, right? The enforcers do it all the time when they interrogate a criminal."
The confusion in the Bulbasaur's face gave away to frustration. He sat back down, mumbling something to himself, and Caspia began to question the Pokémon's sanity. Despite her curiosity, she had started to think she may be better off leaving the grass-type alone for the time being.
There was an aching in her mind, though, something compelling her to continue talking to him, if only because of how paradoxical the situation seemed. Plus, she was not about to waste her trip to the containment area.
"Alright, I'll tell you what I know," she lied, relaxing her posture. "After you tell me how you got yourself in this mess, cause I really want to know what's your deal. Reciprocity, as they say. You help me, I help you, yadda yadda yadda…"
The Bulbasaur looked a bit surprised by her cooperative demeanor, and initially Caspia believed he had seen right through her lie. After a while, though, the prisoner began to scratch the back of his head, his lips slightly pursed as he uttered his response.
"That's the thing, though," he said. "I don't really know what I did. I came to this town looking for someone, a Pokémon recognized me from one of those wanted posters, and they threw me in here without asking questions!" he looked straight at Caspia's eyes. "I swear, that's all I can tell you right now, because it's all I remember."
Caspia was not having any of that, though. It was the laziest, less interesting variation of the 'I'm innocent' rant she'd seen yet, and that was saying a lot considering how many outlaws she'd had the pleasure of talking to through the years.
"Welp, you're not as interesting as I thought you would be, that's for sure," she concluded, rolling her eyes. "If you don't want to tell me anything, you don't have to, but this little conversation is over. Thanks for wasting my time, I guess."
She turned around with full intention to leave. This made the Bulbasaur go back to his desperate pleas, and he pressed his body against the bars in an attempt to get her attention again. By the time he managed to slip one of his front legs through the bars of his cell, however, Caspia was already too far away for him to do anything.
"No, wait!" he cried. "Please, don't leave! I really don't have any idea of what's going on! I just… I remember what the guards said! They were taking orders from something called, uh… the Obsidian Army? Or the Obsidian… something, I can't really recall."
Caspia stopped dead in her tracks.
You're kidding me, she thought. There's no way this is what this guy's been about all this time, right?
"The Obsidian Order," she corrected him. She turned around, dead serious, and looked at the Bulbasaur straight in the eye. "You're saying they were talking about the Obsidian Order?"
"Yeah, that was it," the grass-type replied as he backed away a bit, physically recoiling in reaction to Caspia's sudden change in tone. "Does that… ring a bell?"
Now, if the Bulbasaur was indeed trying to deceive her, he was doing an astonishing job, because the confusion in his eyes was anything but fake. If he was telling the truth, however, and he had some kind of relationship with the Obsidian Order, then he was certainly worth her time, more than she could have initially imagined. The question now was: was she really going to give him a chance just based on that assumption?
She took a deep breath before examining her surroundings. She wondered how much time she had before the guards started to wonder what was taking her so long.
"It does, actually," she replied. Her change in tone must have been particularly drastic, because the Bulbasaur's expression went from desperate to curious almost immediately. "What did they say about them?"
"Um, not a whole lot, actually," the Bulbasaur confessed. "They mentioned they were waiting for them to come pick me up instead of sending me straight to jail."
"That makes no sense…" Caspia mumbled.
She knew some Pokémon respected the authority of the Obsidian Order, but she had never heard of a collective directly working under fact, the opposite was true in most occasions: the Obsidian Order worked alone, and allowed no outsiders into their ranks. The whole affair was getting more suspicious by the moment...
And, even then, the genuine confusion in the Bulbasaur's voice, combined with the strange circumstances surrounding his imprisonment, compelled her to believe him.
"Who are those guys, though?" the grass-type asked.
"Too long to tell," drily replied the young Buizel. She turned her head towards the entrance once more, considering her options. She wondered if the guards were working with the Order as well. "All you need to know right now is that they mean trouble."
The Bulbasaur slowly nodded. An awkward silence slowly settled around them, as Caspia tried to come up with a sensible course of action. Perhaps it was the sincere curiosity displayed by the Bulbasaur, or perhaps the fact that the line that was being crossed had completely messed with her moral compass, but she had a tough decision to make… and the more time she spent thinking about it, the less likely she was to succeed.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," she concluded, "but I don't think you're lying. And you need to believe me when I tell you you don't want to be here when the Obsidian Order shows up."
"Then… can you help me get out?"
There it was. The one decisive question, the inquiry that had the potential to change her life, for better or worse. It was so simple, and so easy to answer, that it almost felt deceiving: everything she ever wanted from her job, from her father… on the palm of her paw.
She looked at the Bulbasaur again, and she made her decision.
"Alright," she said. "I may not fully trust you, but I can't just sit back and watch those morons take you away to do Arceus knows what to you."
"J-just like that?" inquired the Bulbasaur. "I mean, not that I'm not thankful, but I thought it would take a bit more convincing to get you to help me."
Caspia let out a tired sigh.
"Look, I can't give you all the details right now, but it's not like I care that much about this job anyway," she explained. "I'm going to get you to a place where they can help you. The second I start to suspect you, though, I'll throw you in here again. You get me?"
"Yeah, I guess…"
"Then stand back if you don't want to get hurt."
Upon hearing those words, the grass-type Pokémon immediately moved away from the door. Caspia then lifted her head, struggling a bit to recall the technique she had learned a few years ago. She had lost a bit of practice, but she was fairly sure she could still replicate it, at least to a point where it became useful.
She began to salivate, as if she was readying a water move. Instead of releasing it immediately, though, she concentrated on imagining the process through which water becomes ice. Soon, she began to feel the cold gather in her mouth and, fearing she would lose control of the attack, she opened her mouth. Instead of simply spitting out the icy water, though, she released a small but potent wave of cold breath that froze the lock to the door almost instantly.
The Bulbasaur tilted his head to the side, then touched the now frozen lock with one of his front legs. Upon feeling the coldness, however, he quickly recoiled. His skin was vulnerable to extreme temperatures, and he had started to feel a quite annoying tingle running through the tips of his fingers before even touching the lock.
"That's… impressive," he commented as he shook his paw to get rid of the feeling. "How did you know that would work?"
Caspia soon found herself gasping for air, and she leaned against the bars of the cell to rest her body.
"Wasn't… hard to figure out…" she said between labored breaths. "Huff, sorry. These cells weren't built with ice-types in mind. They can handle fire, punches, acid... all that stuff. But I've worked here long enough to know their weakness!"
It took her a few seconds to regain her composure. After she did, she finished the job by hitting the frozen lock with her elbow with enough strength that it crumbled under her paw, icy pieces covering the floor beside her feet.
Still feeling the adrenaline rush of the two attacks she'd performed, she grabbed the Bulbasaur by his cloak and dragged him out of the cell before he even had a chance to thank her. She paid no mind to the ice shards she failed to avoid stepping on.
"Now, listen closely, Bulbasaur," she said, trying to sound as intimidating as possible. "You've seen what I can do with my ice attacks, so don't try anything weird. If you come with me, I promise you I'll keep you safe from those guys, but you have to trust me as much as I'm trusting you."
"I already told you I'm not trying to trick you," quietly stated the Bulbasaur before pulling away from her. "I'll do whatever you want, seriously. There's some stuff I need to take care of, so as long as you can get me out of here, I won't cause trouble."
"Good to know," replied Caspia. She crossed her arms and looked at the entrance to the hallway, wondering how she was going to manage to slip the Bulbasaur past all of the workers. "Alright, before we get out of here we need to take care of the guards. Can you use your powers on them?"
The Bulbasaur was then able to take a good look at his rescuer for the first time, thanks to the dim light of the shiny stones. Caspia suddenly felt slightly self-conscious about her unkept fur.
"Sure, why not," the Bulbasaur finally replied, although his voiced betrayed his nervousness. "It's not like I have anything to lose…"
"Cool," replied the Buizel. "Cause your powers are going to be especially useful against them!"
She began to quietly walk towards the end of the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible, and making sure the Bulbasaur was following her.
Their escape promised to be quite challenging, and risky for both of them, each for their own reasons, but Caspia felt a kind of hope she hadn't felt in a long time, and that was enough for her.
Last edited: