Pokémon Pathways to Arcadia

[Inkedust]

The Sun in the Mirror​

My, my, child! What are you doing up so late?

Hm? Can’t sleep?

I see. Well, it happens to everyone, even me, so why don’t I tell you a story to help pass the time? That’s right. Come and lie on my paws, there is something I want to show you. There you go. Comfortable? Very good. Now, look there – in the moonlight – towards the carvings and paintings that decorate the walls of our den.

That is our story and history as vulpix and ninetales, the tale of the Sun, Moon and Stars. I don’t believe I ever told you, or any of the other pups for that matter, but my daughter – your mother – used to love this story. I told it to her all the time when she was your age. I expected her to do the same for you, but here we are.

Oh now look at me, getting all distracted. Look at the large mural that covers the ceiling. What do you see?

Ah-ha, not quite. You are not wrong in saying that it is a clan gathering, it is not for celebration. Rather, it’s our ancestors giving their thanks and loyalty to the Moon and Stars for saving not only their lives, but the entire land from the Sun’s wrath. As you can see, our history is deeply entwined with the three, especially the Sun. I believe you have already heard of the divine arrangement between the Sun, Moon and Star but let me explain it more, for it is essential to the story I am about to tell.

In the time of Ancients, the Sun and Moon worked in tandem, in cycles. The Sun, the more powerful and radiant of the two, would brighten the heavens to bring daylight. His light brought warmth to the lands but would scorch and burn if left unchecked. So it was the Moon’s responsibility to give reprieve from the Sun’s intensity. Her wings would cloak the lands in darkness that absorbed the blinding light, leaving what remained with no warmth. When the world grew too cold, the Sun would return to warm the lands once more.

‘And the Stars?’ you may ask. Long before her union with the Moon, she would dance in the breath of twilight, the borders between day and night; fleeing the moment either Sun or Moon would return to their place in the skies. The union between the two being the story I will tell you tonight.

A long, long time ago, when the Ancients still walked the land, the Sun forged us from the embers of his mane. He created us to serve as his attendants, beneath the command of both him and his four disciples. Remember that. He had four disciples, not three. Don’t you dare listen to anyone who insists that it’s three, my old heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

…

Anyway. For many, many years our ancestors served the Sun and his disciples loyally and all was right with the world. That was, until the fateful day the Sun lost his light. For you see, the Sun did not shine alone. He had a light that he held close to his chest and that light would follow him everywhere, providing joy and warmth to Ancient and pokémon alike. But, in the shadows, brewed envy, resentment of that light, and the desire to take it for oneself.

A desire an Ancient attempted to act upon.

The Ancient refused to fathom why such power needed to be shared. Surely, they reasoned, it would be more beneficial to keep it all to oneself. So, on a bitter winter’s night – Moon’s light veiled by an oncoming storm – the Ancient snuck into the Sun’s resting place, a peaceful forest sanctuary, and tried to take the light for themself.

But the Ancient could not take the light very far from its source as the two were inseparable on a level they could not understand. So in a fit of jealous anger, they shattered the light and vanished into the night.

Unbeknownst to the Ancient, that light had been the Sun’s heart and without it, the mourning Sun had lost all sense of compassion. He grew more selfish by the day, resentful over the joy he could no longer have. Soon, he determined that if he could no longer feel such things, no one else should. And so, he demanded complete dominion over the skies to enact his plan.

He gathered his followers and disciples and waited for the zenith of the Moon’s flight and at the decisive moment, he struck her down. Her blood irreversibly stained his fur red and unchallenged, the Sun began to burn.

However, a schism had begun to form between the Sun’s followers. Though his influence was strong, some were able to see the Sun’s cruelty and apathy for what it was and began to dissent. The moment the Sun learnt of this, he stripped the insurgent vulpix and ninetales of their inner flame and banished them to perish in the burning lands. Most did, but the few who were to become our ancestors had found the badly injured Moon moments before they succumbed to the raging inferno.

Taking pity on them, the Moon filled their empty spirits with a cold chill to stave off the heat and allowed them beneath her wings to take shelter from the Sun’s wrath. Ever since, we have been loyal to her as our goddess. It is this birth from hardship that makes us stronger than our Sun-serving brethren, for unlike them, we would not be lost if the Moon were to disappear one day.

Now, before I continue, I will explain more about the lands we inhabit so you may understand what happens next in our tale.

Our world exists on one side of a great, unending mirror that holds everything in equilibrium. It is said that there was a land where you could see this mirror’s surface in its vast lakes of liquid silver; where the two sides would converge, and – if the circumstances were just right – you could cross over to the other side.

But that land no longer exists, and you wouldn’t really want to do that anyway. For you see, the reflected world beyond the surface is not our world’s double but its opposite. Where our side teems with life and colour, the other is desolate and inhospitable. Where we are gifted with warmth and light, the other is a cold, unforgiving void.

The Sun remains trapped on the other side of that mirror to this very day.

‘What happened?’ you ask, well! Exercise a bit of patience, I was just about to tell you.

The Sun’s light consumed the world; without the Moon, nothing could stop it. The lands were scorched, forests set ablaze and mountains turned to ash. It was to be the end of all life. The Ancients, desperate, called and prayed to the Moon for help, the Sun having long become ignorant to their cries for mercy.

However, it was not the Moon, but the Stars who answered. The Stars had been in hiding when the Sun took over the skies, fearful of his immense power after she’d witnessed him strike down the Moon. But when she heard the Ancients’ pleas, she realised that she could not sit idly by as the Sun devoured the world. Through the strength of six warriors, she gathered her courage and formed a plan.

They could not simply strike him down as he’d done with the Moon. Per his nature, the Sun would rise again with new-found fury and would continue his devastation of the lands. So the Stars thought that if he were to be somehow trapped, unable to rise, his rampage would be stopped. To accomplish this, the Stars forged chains of crystal and light to pin the Sun to the ground; two sets were made to double the chances of victory.

Whisperings of this plan spread quickly across the land, away from the Sun’s ears in the sky. It was not long before the Moon caught wind of it, appearing before the Stars to offer her strength. She even knew the ideal place to trap the Sun; within the world’s reflection so that he could still imbue the lands with warmth whenever he gazed upon the surface.

But the Moon was still wounded and could not face the Sun directly, for it would have spelled her end; and the Stars lacked the sufficient power to do battle with the Sun within his domain. The two would have to face him together as one. See the paintings of the Moon’s familiar form covered in glittering crystal? That’s them, united.

With little delay, the plan was put into motion. The combined being gave the chains to the six warriors who would spring upon the Sun once he drew close to where the two sides of the mirror converged and drag him into the reflected world.

They took to the skies and confronted the Sun who cursed the insolence of his adversaries as the battle began. The Sun would chase after his foe, who kept their distance but refused to back down, none the wiser to the fact that he was being led directly into a trap. For many weeks they would exchange blow after blow, exhausting each other, yet unable to strike the other down. The burning skies became blinding.

When the Sun reached the designated place, the six warriors wasted no time in ensnaring him in unbreakable chains. They held strong against his wild thrashing, allowing for the warriors to drag their former god away, locking him deep within the mirrored realm. Only his reflection remained and the world was left in soothing darkness. The Moon and Stars then took their place in the heavens together. From then on, to this very night, the two soar the skies in tandem, protecting the world from the Sun’s blistering light as he watches the world move on without him from his prison.

But this tale ends with a warning. It is the Sun’s nature to rise again and again. Though his entrapments are said to be unbreakable, even they risk yielding to his overwhelming nature. With his wrath and fury increased tenfold, he will return to enact his vengeance on his captors, and rend the skies with a crimson glare.

Hm? Seems like you’ve already dozed off. No matter, that warning is nothing more than a means to scare misbehaving vulpix. Legends tend to embellish a few details, especially once they start fading into myth. The Moon and Stars will protect you, as they have always done. But enough stories for now, I will tell you more on the morrow. It’s time for you to sleep, my dear little Nandina.
​

Inkedust Presents…

A tale of heroes, legends, and a boy who ran away from home

Based on the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon series

Pathways to Arcadia​

 

[Inkedust]

A long, long time ago, the Moon heralded the dawn, the Sun was sealed in a mirror, and a Star fell from the sky.

That was the legend that was passed through the ages. That was the legend that defined all of Kythra. A testament of peace that stood unchallenged by the passage of time.

But something is beginning to stir. The peace that Kythra is built upon will be challenged by the winds of change.

A king clutches a bloodied arm, a demon fractures the sky, an absol guards a key, a boy runs away from home.

A new legend is being written.
–​

Foreword–

This is a project that has lived rent-free in my head for years and given that I’m still passionate about it compared to my many other ideas, I think it’s something that deserves to be shared. Of course, what I had in mind then and what I’m writing now are two very different beasts as my ideas shifted and have grown a lot more solid over time. However, I feel that I have finally reached a point where I am satisfied and confident enough with my ideas and writing quality to publish!

The initial ideas for this fic go all the way back to 2014/2015, where I had wanted to create a nuzlocke comic based on my playthroughs of Alpha Sapphire and Blue Rescue Team. Though some core concepts and ideas still remain from way back in the day, things shifted dramatically after the announcement, lead up and release of the Gen VII games Sun/Moon. This does mean that, while I’m super late to the party, the story is based and largely focused on concepts introduced in Gen VII. That doesn’t mean that ideas from later gens won’t be present though! Since I always find a fun challenge in integrating and synthesising later ideas and mechanics into my worldbuilding if they’re flexible enough!

A couple extra things before we begin:​

• This fic is rated Teen and will feature strong language, violence and some heavy themes.​
• I will try to aim for regular weekly/bi-weekly updates since consistency is a big aim of mine when it comes to this fic, and I’m sure I’ll be able to get a good pace once I get into the swing of things. What do you mean it’s been a year?​
• This fic will be written in New Zealand English (NZE) so if some spellings look a little funky to you (‘traveller’ instead of ‘traveler’, ‘fiord’ instead of ‘fjord’) that’s probably why (though I’m thankful, for both our sakes, that this is a PMD-fic so I don’t have to go around explaining what a jandal or a ute is).​
• This is a rather meaty project that I plan to split into 2-3 parts, with each part consisting of a trilogy of books so to speak. How feasible that actually is remains a mystery for now but given that I’ve been dedicated to this thing for the better part of a decade, I’m committed.​

Anyway, without further ado, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy Pathways to Arcadia and special thanks to @SparklingEspeon and @unrepentantAuthor for beta reading!

Table of Contents–​

Spoiler: Book One: Sanctum of Omen

Prologue – The Starchild’s Lullaby
Chapter 1 – Where It All Began
Chapter 2 – Across the Fiord
Chapter 3 – An Echo of a Ghost
Chapter 4 – The Day She Left

Changelog–

Spoiler: Changelog

23/11/24​

- Retitled Book 1 to “The Shadow and the Curse”.
- Custom-made dividers, and an additional message (linking to the chapter’s musical theme) added to all chapters.
- Substantial prologue rework due to removal of anthology aspect after behind-the-scenes restructuring.

Prologue Hidden message has also been reworked but the gist remains the same. It is now represented by glitch text to make its presence more apparent/give it a cooler effect.​

- Minor grammatical tweaks and corrections in Prelude + all existing chapters.

24/12/24​

Chapter 4 update.

Playlist–

Spoiler: Playlist

THE SUN IN THE MIRROR—

Wintersun · When Time Fades Away 1.5​

THE SHADOW AND THE CURSE—

Blind Guardian · Nightfall​

Mental Cruelty · Symphony of a Dying Star (Piano Version)​

Marcus Warner · This Is a Story of the Sea​

Arata Iiyoshi · Amnesic Dreamer​

Jyc Row · The Demon Child (feat. Elias Frost)​

Arnaud Roy · Nomadic Cities (The Roving Clans Theme)​

 

[Inkedust]

Prologue – The Starchild’s Lullaby​

A long, long time ago, the Moon heralded the dawn…

—Opening line of Her Grace, first part of the Celestial Procession: Moon​

​

Far away, draped in a thick veil of eternal fog, in a land abandoned by all – from mortal to deity – ran an absol with a pervasive itch in her horn. With unparalleled speed and unwavering focus, she leapt over and through sheer cliffs and steep valleys, towards the heart of this undead land. Her old paws knew the way all too well, each breathless bound taking her higher towards the central mountain range until a tangle of pine ushered her into a timeless abyss.

But before she could take that first step, her vision turned bright red with a premonition.
​

…

Beneath a w̵̭̕ind-swept cliff was an alco̸̯̓ve that shelter̴̖̈́ed two ghostl̸͉̍y zoroark from blistering ď̶̠ust and ash. Yet ö̸̬́nly conf̵̺̀lict laid within as the sm̸̱͌aller of the two had her ears pi̷̲̕ṅ̵ͅnè̷͓d back,̷̏ͅ snarling at the sight of̷̝͂ the ọ̵́theṛ̷̉ zoroark’s grin which held not̷͉͘h̸̘͌ing but vehement malice.

“O̵̭͆f all the places to reű̵̪nite… Why, it muš̶̫t be fâ̴͚te,” taun̵͇̔ted̵̹̋ the larger ghos̵͕̈t. “Yo̷̡̅ur luck has f̵͚̈inally̶͍̔ run out it sḙ̵̐ems. How very sa̵͍͒tisfying! I cannot even descr̸͕̓ibe this̸̮̄ excitement I̵̎͜’m feeling now̴̙͠. Ā̶̫h, but I̷͖̕’m geṱ̸̇ting ahead of mysé̵̟lf, allow me to d̸̩̈emonstrate!”

…​

White fur stood on end as the absol blinked away the vision. With it went the unbearable sear that had momentarily replaced the itch in her horn. Her eyes adjusted to the surrounding environment; a thicket that hadn’t been touched by sun nor moon for many millennia, features unnaturally pulled and contorted to form a great labyrinth as both time and space became naught but a mere suggestion. Most would avoid such a place – in fact, they would’ve been wise to do so – but the absol knew this route far too well as it had always proven itself to be the quickest.

Being so familiar, it was easy to predict how the environment would shift and distort. She ducked to avoid a branch that’d thrusted itself onto her path, leapt over bottomless pits and onto shaking rocks, using the colossal root systems as platforms. She passed through barrier after barrier of distortion; not much further until— There!
​

…

Zoroark knelt̶̬̄ beneath the agö̵͍nising, azure̵̘͋ gaze of a dark, in̸̦͊timidä̸̢́ting figure. Her ċ̶̯laws scraped against̸̻̔ bedrock as she t̶̪͆ried to stand in tẖ̵͆e̸̱͘ s̵̩͒uffocaț̵̓ing heat. The figure co̸̲̓uld only smir̵͚̎k at the di̷̬͗splay.

With a booming voice̷̟̍ in an addreš̵̮s to his f̴̧̒ollowers, the figure a̷̧̿nnounced, “Wat̴̼͂ch and bė̴̪hold̸̫͠! The might of a true Ancient!”

…​

This isn't normal. That zoroark… Who is she? the absol thought, emerging into a great expanse of ruins. Long strands of grass bore through cracked cobblestone. She walked past buildings, their structures and foundations long undermined by the roots and branches of nature’s will. As she did, she thought back to the times when her imagination would whisper of conversations of those who’d once lived here and the routines of their daily lives. But her thoughts never lingered, for if they did, sadness would’ve consumed her long ago.

Past the ruins laid another distorted labyrinth that guarded and entangled what would’ve been a direct path to her destination. More dangerous, more unreliable, but she could not hesitate, even as the pricking sensation in her horn heralded the coming of another vision. It overtook her moments after she stepped through the barrier.
​

…

A̵͇͂top the peak of a frozen̸̻̒ mountain, a ninetales of the Moon wearing a crown of sacred̶̗͝ bamboo waț̵͠ched the sta̵̭͆rs as the air began to crack̸̼̍le̵͕͛. After̷̞̈́ a blink, she̴̦̎ saw the v̴̟͐e̷̖̚ry zoroark she expected sprawled out in the sn̶̢̏ow. Her new g̴̣̕ue̶̹͝st wà̸̠s un̷̻̎d̷̮͆oubẗ̷̩edly exhausted after̴̔ͅ a long and arduous journey.

“Finally arri̸͎͊ved, have you̴̙͗?” asked Ninetales. The m̸͔̉oment p̷̭̐assed in silence. Th̶̰͆en in a sǒ̶̱fter v̷͕͘oicê̸͇ she said, “Theṙ̴̰e is much t̶̜͊o discuss and you cannot h̸͇͗ö̶̻pe to recover your s̴͙̒tre̶͉̊ngth here. Come ẅ̴͙́ith̴̰̊ me, my den is ö̴͚́nly a s̷̤̽hort dḭ̴̍staǹ̶̹ce away. You can̷̳̈ re̶͉͗st and̷̪́ recover there.”

…​

The spike of pain that came with it was more intense than the last. Absol found herself trying to shake off the ensuing dizziness from such a shock, steps becoming wobbly. No, this was no coincidence. This was bad. Very bad. If she was to succumb to these strange visions, let the pain cripple and distract her, then she couldn’t…

Adrenaline coursed through her system, fuelling her. Absol bolted through the dungeon, leaping over its many obstacles, circumventing the corridors, her horn her guide. She passed through many more veils of distortion, the labyrinth growing more complex and dangerous in turn, as if it was fighting back by preventing her from going any further.

But Absol was wise to this dungeon’s tricks. Even if grazed by the odd trap or two, she would always evade the worst of it. Soon, she emerged onto stable ground once more, leaving the tangled canopy of grass and stone trees behind.
​

…

Zoroa̵͌ͅrk s̷̤͊hivered in the darkness before she slumped to the ground. For now̵̛̠, she h̵̻̐ad managed to fḯ̵̗nd s̵̖͌ome resṕ̶͜itẻ̵̤ in these desolate lands, the r̷̰̅ocky terrain pè̸̟ppering her paws with orange d̶̥͂ust̵̯͆.

She co̴̤͘vered her ears, trying to block out the abyssal whispers of the shadows that resided within this hellscape. Yet they spoke directly to her m̵͖̅ind and whe̶͇͆n she tried to distract herself, her gaze b̶̡̑rushed past an unnaturally̶̩̕ deep hole.

She froze. T̵̳͋h̴̲͋é̵̤re w̵̘̔as no mistaking i̶̭̔t.

Somethin̵̖̈g was d̴̢͊own there.

Someone was̷̗̆ down there.

…​

Absol’s grip on the dirt beneath her loosened. Almost there, she reassured herself. Almost there. Just a straight path forward. For a split second she looked back, frowning at the distortion behind her. Though this land was no stranger to them, even before it had been abandoned, they had never been this intense. The increasingly esoteric environments fascinated her as she drew closer to her destination.

She shook her head. She couldn’t afford to let her mind wander about these things. She continued down the vestigial remains of the path through a dense forest. Wild pokémon who’d made their home here snarled at the disruption but vanished at the realisation that they were being ignored. One sharp left and then…
​

…

A glowi̴̜͑n̴̞͘g shoot was c̸̟͗lamped in the maw of a pale zor̸͖̊ua. Ì̸̞t repelled the persistent darkness that lurked in the depths of the m̶̹͂urmuring dungeon that had been the town’s̵̈́ͅ mines. The shadỏ̵̤ws con̵͋͜ti̸̛ͅnued to throw themselves â̸̗t the zorua.

Over and over and over again.

But, Zorua rem̷̙͒ained in the depths as, to heṟ̵̌ horror, whi̵̡̓le s̵̖̐he li̵͇̓sten̴̥̎ed she had understood the dung̸̳̅eon’s words.

…​

She had arrived. The fog was at its thickest here, which made it impossible to see more than a few metres ahead. Through the grey gloom, Absol felt her way forward until her paws came into contact with a steep, rocky incline. Her claws dug in, finding the well-worn punctures that she’d left there so long ago, and keeping her body close to the rock wall, she began to climb.

It wasn’t easy. It was never easy on her old bones, especially when visibility was so limited, but she had no other choice but to continue. Several times her hindpaws would slip, leaving them to scramble, her mind racing with each frantic motion. And once again, In the midst of her clambering, her vision flashed red.
​

…

The sound̷͉̂ of clatté̴̩ring junk filled the air v̵̱̈́ery quỉ̷͎ckly followed by the ṣ̷̉camperí̵̟ng of paws. Zorua turň̵̝ed the corner, her fur darkened with soot, only to be unceremoniously ġ̶̘rabbed by a kecleon sporting a dour look.

“Tch. Already ate it? Well then it’s off to the Guild with you, thief. You’d better hope they’re merciful ‘cause I wouldn’t be.”

…​

When Absol returned to reality, she realised that she was standing frozen on the edge of a large, rocky basin. She had made it to the top. She looked behind her, finding nothing but swirling mist; ahead and below, a modest body of water that continuously rippled. She let out a deep sigh of relief; she’d arrived with only seconds to spare. Deciphering these visions could wait for now.

She walked around the edge towards a collapsed boardwalk that led to the water, its wood caught in a limbo between pristine and rotting, still slippery despite no water touching it for thousands of years. Absol looked around before climbing down. When she reached the restless surface she took a deep breath, put a paw to the liquid silver and sang.
​

Starchild, 'o starchild,
Why do you stir?
Come, 'o child of stars
Lay down your head
And wrap yourself warmly in this blanket of mist

Still now, dear child
For even you must set
And let me speak to you in ancient tongues,
The language of a thousand stars
To guide you through this eternal night

Cast away your sorrows
Forget about your worries
And return to the warmth of your forest haven
For nothing but darkness remains
And your world is in good hands.

Still now, dear child
For even you must set
And let me speak to you in ancient tongues,
The language of a thousand stars
To guide you through this eternal night

Let your tomb of mountains bear the burden of the cold
Let your memories of forests act as the pillars of your dreams
Let moon and stars carry the skies away from you
Let your weary self rest beneath this cover of silver
And let the world be safe

For only then, will you be home again.​

She lifted her paw, allowing her lullaby, her Perish Song, to carry far and reverberate off the steep, rocky walls that surrounded them. For a brief moment, the winds picked up before stilling with the water, leaving nothing but its reflective surface behind. Absol’s tail twitched. Four days, she thought as she began to climb again. Coupled with the fact that her visions were nothing short of an ill omen, it had only been four days since the last time she’d done this routine. Time was running out, her lullaby becoming ineffective. Sooner or later, she would have to sing every day, every hour to keep the inevitable at bay.

When she stepped onto the basin’s pinnacle, she closed her dull eyes and took a deep breath before looking out towards the southeast. There, obscured by a wall of fog, laid the distant ruins of a city once joyous and prosperous – much like the rest of this land. Where it all went wrong.

Where it all began.
​

…

In the ḓ̴͘e̶̤̓pths̵͈͛ of the voi̷͕̾d, the disfig̷̦͑ured remain̵̰͘s of a man screamed ị̷̾n̷͔̚ ag̴̣͌ony.̶̻̍



The Legion of the Eternal Moon
Book One: The Shadow and the Curse​

 

[Inkedust]

​

Chapter 1 – Where It All Began​

In Ancient times, far, far east, the Sun rose over cobalt seas. The land was rich but the waters were vaster, great mystery held within their waves. West the Ancients came but east they remained, in awe of the brilliant expanse.

In love, they sought conquest. Beneath Sun’s light, the Ancients built vessels made to tame and traverse the tides. But as the day stretched longer, darkness came, and the Ancients realised they needed the Sun to accompany them over the bounding main.

Yet, when it came time for them to leave, the Sun flew west, away from shining seas.​

—Metemall Archive #91: The Tale of the Ancients and the Sea​

​

Bellatrix was a miserable woman. Wretched in conversation, her presence pitiable, it was impossible to imagine anyone more dreadful.

The hag carried that mantle each passing day and today had been of little exception. Wrapping herself in the worn folds of a thinning shawl, Bellatrix groaned, ready to slave herself for yet another of her evening walks. Long, grey hair tied limp in a messy bun, she slipped on a pair of tattered flats that had walked twice as many steps than they could handle.

She fumbled with the doorknob and forced her weight against the dishevelled apartment door. Though the hinges grew more stubborn by the day, today they once again relented. The door swung open with a long, drawn-out wail, exposing Bellatrix to the unfeeling bite of the winter air. The crone shivered as she shuffled down the stairwell, her cane banging against concrete, demanding everyone, be it person, pokémon or building, to acknowledge her presence.

It had become apparent over the last few months that Bellatrix’s evening strolls were growing harder and harder on her ageing legs. The evening’s dim light would only illuminate the path to her destination, fading long before she returned to her dingy apartment. So much for trying to distract herself from the reality that was her age. Nevertheless, she continued to follow the directions in her head, wilfully oblivious to the sights, smells and sounds of the livening city.

She walked past buildings that grew uglier as she grew closer to the city’s outskirts, their squat forms imposing against the darkening skies, and onto rocky sand. The insignificant scrap of beach, wedged between rows upon rows of jagged rock, was the source of many memories, called forth by the clear crunch of sand beneath Bellatrix’s feet. The sea, only a few degrees above freezing during the cold months, glimmered in the setting sun and offered a rare feeling that could comfort even Bellatrix.

Her gaze tore from the sea and onto the rocks. Now came the hard part.

Hobbling towards a collection of stones that had been carved out through the handiwork of hikers, time and the sea, Bellatrix began the next leg of her journey, ascending the natural stairs by using her cane as an anchor against the rock’s incline. With great effort and panted breath, she pulled herself upwards onto the first step. Then she did it again. And again. And again.

And each time, frustrations that Bellatrix had just buried yesterday were dredged up to the forefront of her mind.

At this point, most would look at Bellatrix and be left with a single question: Why? Why put herself through all the trouble of making this journey? She had less than a year in her, so why not spend the rest of her evenings within the joyless confines of her apartment?

The answer? Spite.

Bellatrix was as stubborn as she was miserable and she had something to prove. She refused to be seen as “weak” or “feeble”; she wasn’t going to be a joke because of her age. Had she been in her prime, nobody would dare to mock or stand in her way, nobody. Not her critics, not her lovesick delusions, not the brat who’d robbed her of so many years of her life and certainly not these forsaken rocks!

She growled, forcing herself to focus on the path ahead. She shouldn’t be wasting energy on things she refused to care about. The rough terrain and buffeting winds warded off most people, which made Bellatrix’s destination the ideal refuge. She’d get from them, and they could waste their time saying whatever they wished about her. It was the perfect trade off.

As she walked, Bellatrix noticed that the rocks were slippery, their surfaces glinting in the sunset. She spared a glance at the waves below, rolling in with the tide to wrestle the shore, the soothing sounds of their conflict cutting through her seething. They had been far more restless earlier with the rain, spitting out bits of seaweed that now decorated Bellatrix’s path forward.

She could see it in the distance, jutting out over deep waters that beckoned and sang; the great pillar of stone that Bellatrix called “the Plank”. By its pinnacle was a small formation that made the perfect seat for her shrinking body – as if the spirits themselves knew that she’d be travelling here everyday for this very vista – it was the best view of the great expanse anyone could ask for. Bellatrix sat down as she admired the horizon, pulling her legs over the side and allowing them to dangle while she mused.

The fading light of the sun did nothing for warmth; any heat it may have provided was robbed by the persistent sea breeze. Not too long ago, the skies would have still been blue by the time Bellatrix arrived there. It was pitiful, and Bellatrix could not see it as anything other than life playing its final trick on her.

To say that she did not appreciate it would have been an understatement.

But what else could she expect? Every time she tried to play life’s game, she came out looking like a fool. Her connections, possessions, reputation? All done away by their deaths or abandonment as some kind of twisted reward for her troubles. Ungrateful bastards. At least the snivelling brat that caused all this saw some form of karmic justice. Ended up somewhere dead in the wilderness. With no body found, the pieces most likely found themselves filling the belly of an absol.

A cruel grin pulled at Bellatrix’s features, pulling at her wrinkles. She couldn’t think of a more fitting end for someone who defied and ignored all of her warnings and teachings. But any semblance of a smile swiftly vanished, like a ray of sun trying to peek through a thick layer of storm clouds. It was a freebie, a show of pity that her opponent gave her when it saw her flounder at its game. Nothing more, nothing less. With a deep exhale, Bellatrix straightened herself and allowed the sight and sounds of the waves to carry that train of thought away.

She remained still until the sun had vanished beyond the horizon.

The chill of dusk called Bellatrix back on her feet. It was an arduous process, groping for her cane in the dark and trying to straighten herself back onto the Plank without falling off. She took one last look at the sea before turning to face the city she begrudgingly called home. Irradiated, it polluted the skies with its light, beckoning for Bellatrix’s return. And like a mothim to a flame, as her only light source, she answered its call.

If only it were that simple.

The first few steps had gone smoothly enough. By dragging her cane across the ground like a blind woman, Bellatrix had gotten a good enough feel of the terrain, preventing her from tripping over its bumpy surface. But the rocks were slippery and Bellatrix’s cane could not feel the seaweed. So when both her cane and foot caught themselves on a large patch, strewn across the rocky bluff like a blanket, she was sent careening over the edge, straight into the water below.

Gravity made short work of any desperate attempt to right herself, the icy grip of the sea striking her nervous system with the intensity of a thousand hammers. Her throat tightened, stinging as her lungs filled with saltwater, punishing her body’s demand for air. She was at the mercy of the tides; nothing but a mere ragdoll to be flung with reckless abandon. She tried to fight the surging currents, tried to break the water’s surface but her strength had decayed too much, her clothes weighing her down as they absorbed water.

The sea she had admired for so long was to become her grave.

Seconds stretched on, becoming an eternity. Consciousness began to slip and Bellatrix’s body resigned itself to its fate. All she could do was lament for the youth she lost so long ago. The life she had wasted.

If she had been in her prime again, she would’ve been able to swim to the shore. Would have had a chance to live the life she deserved, avoiding the mistakes that brought her here in the first place. She wouldn’t have needed to come all the way out here in a futile attempt to meditate – giving up the practice to live the remainder of her days in that cramped room didn’t seem too bad any more – not that it mattered now.

Her vision grew darker and darker. She didn’t feel, couldn’t feel, cold any more and her fading mind was moments away from letting go. So close. So very close, but then—
​

“This is foolish. Of all the ones to choose, why that one?”

“Do not play coy, you know all the reasons why. Any chance of the scales of fate being tipped in our favour lies with her.”

“That is exactly why I must contest this!”

“And doom the world, our existence, to ash and silence?”

…​

Bellatrix blacked out, the depths’ claim upon her sealed.
​

​

The street markets of Fae’s Square bustled with activity under the bright light of a summer’s morning. Shelves and counters stacked and laden with supplies were inspected by passing townsfolk and local guild members. Shopkeepers entered bartering matches with anyone foolish enough to think that they could beat them at their own game (a particularly determined rockruff was causing quite the scene with a rhyhorn). Rumours that had flown from Noame Island on a pelipper’s wings danced on the lips of window shoppers. It was yet another day in Metemall Town.

That was how it seemed, at least.

An aggron walked through the crowds of pokémon, using his size to push through the congregation, disappointed that the chesto supply had already sold out for today. In fact, most of Kecleon’s stock had been selling out at increased rates; he'd need to start getting up at dawn if he wanted any chance of getting his claws on any essentials. But for now, he would need to search in another part of town.

Yet, the moment Aggron turned towards Steelix Alley, the air grew still and heavy, smothering the lively atmosphere. Pokémon looked around, confused at the sudden change in mood, before a bright light and the loud sound of a snap echoed throughout the entire square.

Confused and startled, the market-goers attempted to approach the light that hung still in the air. But before anyone could get a good look, it dissipated, leaving a small, white, red and soaking wet body collapsed on the pavement. In an instant, the crowd erupted in discordant symphony, swarming to get a closer look at the figure to try and make heads or tails of what’d just happened.

The sudden arrival shivered. Everything hurt. From the intense ache that bore straight down to the bone, afflicting her entire body, to the pounding migraine that made it painful to think. Her mouth and nostrils were clogged with the overpowering scent and taste of brine. A hacking cough followed, water ejected from her lungs, leaving her panting with the realisation that she was back on dry land. The darkness that swam in her vision parted, assaulting her eyes with a world that was far too bright. When she attempted to stand, she was seized by fatigue, unconsciousness once again threatening the corners of her vision.

Between shallow breaths, Bellatrix heard the muffled voices of the crowd.

“All this fuss for another…accident? I swear…”

“…fifth this…”

“Don’t…close. I think that’s a cursed…”

“In…town!?”

“Should warn…Quickly…you!”

…

………

The voices went silent the moment Bellatrix had a second fit. The ensuing nausea would’ve caused her to throw up had her belly not been empty. Many drawn out seconds passed before a new voice broke out above the silence.

“Imbeciles! Can’t ya see it’s drowning? If Ms. Indeedee saw how you sorry lot are behavin’, you’d never hear the end of it!”

The verges of consciousness made the voice distant. Just as she let herself go limp from exhaustion, Bellatrix felt something far larger than her pick her up. It muttered something to her, but the words blended together in an incoherent mush. She tried to struggle out of the grasp of whatever had grabbed her, but the feeble attempt was over before it began, her body slumping back into the stony arms of her captor. She knew that she was being taken somewhere but her mind couldn’t process anything at all. Everything blended together into a mess of blurred figures and broken sentences. All Bellatrix could do was remain limp, eyes half-lidded.
​

​

A few turns away from the chaos, an indeedee was having a peaceful day at work. Supplies fully restocked courtesy of Kecleon and a lack of customers put the aromatherapist’s mind at ease. Counting the fresh batch of chesto berries, Indeedee let out a content sigh. She could do with having slow days more often.

Unfortunately, things were just about to pick up again when the all too familiar sound of the clinic door being broken down snapped Indeedee to attention.

“What is it now, Aggron?” she asked, rubbing her temples. She needed to reset her tally on the number of days that door remained intact. However, her exasperation was swiftly replaced with worry when she saw the bundle of fur dangling from Aggron’s arms.

Aggron’s reply was a nervous shuffle of his feet. “Uh, teleporting accident. Happened right in the middle of the market, got a lotta folks in a tizzy, and they ain’t… See fer yerself.”

With little prompting, Aggron held the small pokémon out over the desk. Indeedee rushed to take it before the brute dropped it and got water all over her tallies. Nose wrinkling at the scent of wet canine and saltwater, Indeedee frowned the moment she managed to get a good look at the thing. A zorua, and a cursed one at that. Must have been from a colder region based on the thickness of that fur, leaving Indeedee to wonder how it ended up all the way over here.

“You’re certain it was a teleporting mishap?” Indeedee pressed.

“I was there to see it! An’ look at ‘em! How do ya get that wet on a day like this?”

With a nod, Indeedee continued, “Well, at a glance, I don’t see any missing limbs. Very fortunate, those are quite common—” She stopped when she felt the zorua shudder with several coughs in her arms, water dribbling from its mouth. Half-drowned too. Not surprising, given that it was drenched to the bone. “Hold her again for a moment…” Indeedee then looked down the hall and yelled, “Naclstack! Get yourself over here! We have some breathing troubles to handle!”

Turning back towards Aggron, Indeedee tapped the side of her horn a couple times. “Aside from that, their condition doesn’t appear to be too terrible, though they may need to stay a couple days so we can get a proper evaluation.”

Aggron nodded. “It ain’t mine but I couldn’t just leave it there, ya know?”

“Hm, serving every lost stray that wanders into our store again, Ms.?” Rounding the corner, the summoned naclstack acknowledged Aggron and the zorua with an unsympathetic rumble. “I know you tend to ignore many warnings, but is welcoming a curse into the apothecary particularly wise?”

Indeedee snorted. “A ‘mon in need is a ‘mon in need, and no amount of superstition can change that. Now go prepare a room for them,” she said, taking the zorua back from Aggron and shoving it straight into her assistant’s arms. “We’ll send an update on their condition over post,” she added, addressing Aggron. “We’ll speak with them once they’re lucid and their condition stabilises, isn’t that right, Naclstack? Now hold still.”

Naclstack grunted in response whilst Indeedee began scraping his body for salt. Then, once a sufficient amount was laid out on the table, the rock-type sauntered off with a heavy lumber.

“Anyway,” Indeedee continued. She flicked open several drawers to grab several varieties of medicinal seeds and herbs alongside a large mortar and pestle. She threw the herbs and salt in and began to grind them into a fine power. “We’ll try to find the one responsible to wrangle out any pay from them, but don’t be surprised if it falls onto you.”

Aggron let out a displeased huff. “Aye, makes sense, but my armour ain’t exactly made of poké either.”

“Mhm, I’m sure you can manage. Besides, I’ll be expecting compensation for the door again.”

Aggron had no counter to that.
​

​

Bellatrix stirred. The sensation of having her stomach poked in several places by something rough left her in a state of discomfort, pulling her away from sleep’s numbing embrace and into groggy lucidity. She felt stiff, limbs still aching from earlier. Part of her wanted to fall back to sleep but too many questions nagged at her from the back of her mind and she needed answers.

Her first order of business was to try and remember what had happened up until now.

However, there was little she could recall in the chaotic blur that was her recollection of today. There was coughing, the sensation of salt water and phlegm climbing up her windpipe; some ‘healers’ who’d forced her to drink some kind of foul concoction – the bitter taste still lingered at the edges of her mouth – and then nothing. Bellatrix shook her head, her eyes opening despite their protests, and tried to sit up in an attempt to get a better look at her surroundings.

The act made Bellatrix wince as her joints refused to comply. The best she could do was prop herself up with her arms while her lower body remained on the ground.

The room she found herself in was unfamiliar. Tiny and sparsely decorated with crude furniture seeped in deep shadow. A window to her right revealed a sky covered in stars and a moon half-waned, its weak light filtering through. However, it seemed that Bellatrix was able to make out the shapes much easier than usual. Maybe her eyes had adjusted. Once she found some proper light, things would return to normal. Shuffling a bit, she realised that the thing she felt beneath her was straw that was being used as a makeshift bed. It not only explained the poking but also told her that the people here were far more primitive than what she was used to. She must’ve washed up quite far.

Her mind snapped back on the moon. That wasn’t right. Wasn’t it meant to be full tonight? Had she really been out for that long? She’d long since dried off by now but the scent of brine still clung to her, now matted, hair. How could she have ended up so far when she was being dragged away by death’s jaws? Maybe someone saw her and went out to rescue her but she was certain there was no witness and why wouldn’t they have taken her back to… back to…

That was odd. She couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t she remember?

Mind frantic, Bellatrix tried to reason with herself. Maybe she was just tired. It’d all come back to her in the morning once her head had cleared. It had to. Bellatrix always prided herself on her memory, sharp as ever, even at the brink of ninety. Let’s see, there was her name. Obvious start, but something nonetheless. The depths, and then…

That conversation.

She frowned. She’d only heard a small part of it, clear as crystal, and what she heard made no sense. A dying dream was her only explanation (after all, how else would she be eavesdropping on a conversation while in the midst of drowning?). So then why couldn’t she recognise those voices? She knew how dreams worked, how the mind could not come up with new voices or faces so it had to recycle from memory. If she could just put a face to those voices…

Static. No names, no faces, nothing.

Bellatrix panicked. Something was clearly wrong. Questions flew at her from all directions. Where did she live? What did she do for a living? Why was she out at sea? Her family? Who were they?

None of her questions produced any answer. Like marks in the sand, it had all been swept away by the tides.

Defeated, Bellatrix attempted to lower her head into her hands with the vain and distant hope that it would help her remember anything. A second wave of panic washed over her when she couldn’t perform the action, a wave that surged into a tsunami the moment she figured out the reason why.

In the place of her hands were a pair of small, dusky paws.

Had she gone senile?

Shock immobilised her. Much as she didn’t want to, Bellatrix mustered the courage to examine herself further to see the full extent of the changes. Utter disbelief convinced her that she’d remained mostly the same but the strangled breath and growing pit in her stomach that followed revealed the contrary.

She’d been locked into a quadrupedal stance, covered in pale grey fur. A thick ruff of fur covered her neck and a long mane, tangled and wild, fell to her side. Her ears, which had extended outwards, fell flat against the sides of her head as she noticed that she had a tail bearing the same colour and composition as her ruff and mane; dense white fur that transitioned into red at the tip. She yanked it, an action she regretted as sharp pain shot through it, confirming that it was firmly attached. Finally, to add insult to injury, Bellatrix noticed that her head wasn’t that far from the floor. She had been shrunken down significantly.

Throughout it all, Bellatrix’s mind was dominated by a single thought: This is wrong. This is very, very wrong. Much as her new appearance and the stiff aches in her new joints would otherwise insist, she was human. The very concept that she wasn’t anymore was something she refused to consider.

Denial and exhaustion sapped her energy. Unable to hold herself up any longer, Bellatrix slumped back down onto the straw bedding. What would happen to her now? She wondered, scanning the room once more. That was when she noticed a small hand-mirror sitting upon a crude stool. A final flicker of ignorant hope arose in her once more. She would see herself, her actual self, and whatever spell was cast on her would break. Things would return to normal. They had to.

With a newfound determination, Bellatrix forced herself up on her new legs. She’d play along with the illusion for now. Just a few steps.

Over and over again, she would find a new difficulty with walking on all-fours. A growl of frustration escaped her throat. Bellatrix flinched at how close she sounded to an actual pokémon. She needed that mirror, but she wasn’t going to crawl for it. Hadn’t she been humiliated enough?

Eventually, she managed to make several small, clumsy steps. She refused to look down or acknowledge her paws, as if looking down on them would make her current situation more likely to become a reality. When she had gotten close enough she lunged for the mirror, snatching it like a greedy child. She stumbled for a moment without the support of her forepaws but kept her balance. She wasted no time. Under the gaze of moonlight, Bellatrix looked into the mirror.

She wished she hadn’t.

Instead of herself, a pokémon stared back at her. A zorua. Its pale, ghostly features were somewhat familiar. Yet, instead of the haunting gold eyes characteristic of the species, Bellatrix had retained her stormy blue-grey eyes. The only clue that she’d been anything else before, the memento of her humanity. A complete and utter mockery.

Bellatrix trembled. She was gone. Her form, her memory, all of it. The only thing that remained was this empty ghost with her eyes.

She no longer had the strength to hold the mirror. It cracked the moment it landed on the floor, producing a hollow sound. Bellatrix followed, collapsing on the floor, covering her old eyes with her new paws.

Her silent cries filled the remainder of the night.
​

There was once a wasteland between two worlds.​

 

[Inkedust]

Chapter 2 – Across the Fiord​

The peninsula that comprises southeastern Yanpei is home to some of the continent’s most stunning locales. Along a small outcropping on its western coast is a burgeoning community that began to form after rich deposits of metals used to make poké (specifically copper and nickel) were found beneath some of the local mountains.

Though stunning in their own right the true appeal, if you ask me, are the fiords that form the coastline. No place captures the harmony between land, sea and sky quite like this. Even as I write, I am seized by the awe of the Cloudburst Ranges on an overcast day.

To call it a true wonder of the world – a title I do not give away lightly – would be a terrible understatement. I am certain that the settlement will prosper within my lifetime.​

—Dragonite Stormsong on Metemall Village​

​

Bellatrix had numbed herself to the passage of time. Though her tears were long dried she had not stopped shaking, her head remaining in her paws. She had remained like that for hours, refusing to move even when the skies were being painted by dawn.

What would happen to her now? She was somewhere completely unknown to her, stuck in an unfamiliar body with no way to retrace her steps. She had the strong suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to stay in this building for long, but where could she go? Were there humans here or were there only pokémon? The primitive room she was in indicated the latter and she was pretty sure that she had been snatched up by other pokémon, but on the off-chance that it was the former she would need to find a means to communicate—

There was a knock on the door, cutting off Bellatrix’s ruminations. A heavy moment of silence passed before a feminine voice chimed out from the other side.

“Good morning, Zorua! I hope you found yourself a goodnight’s rest. I’m just popping in for a quick check up to see if you’re doing better.”

Bellatrix’s only response was further silence, turning away so that her back would face the door, not that it mattered seeing that the door creaked open seconds later.

“Now, now, I’m sure you’re afraid and disoriented,” the voice assured in a calming tone. “It’s only natural after a teleportation incident, but there’s no need to worry. You’re in good hands.”

Bellatrix refused to look at whoever was talking to her like a child. Yet despite herself, she could not stop the instinctive flick of an ear when teleporting was mentioned. It did explain how she ended up back on dry land despite sinking into deep water and the unfamiliarity of the place but then… Who was responsible? She may as well take the opportunity to learn more.

Unwilling to budge, Bellatrix asked, “Where am I?”

She shuddered at the sound of her voice. It was several pitches too high and far softer than she would have liked. In response to her surprise and discomfort, Bellatrix felt the ends of her ruff and mane stir in a non-existent wind. She was going to need time to get used to that.

The intruder didn’t seem to notice, instead sitting herself down in front of Bellatrix.

“Well dear,” the indeedee – if Bellatrix wasn’t mistaken – began. “This accident of yours has brought you right in the middle of Metemall Town. Not to worry though! Given the nature of such incidents, you shouldn’t have landed too far from home. As long as you tell us where you came from, returning home shouldn’t be a problem.”

Where she came from? How was Bellatrix supposed to answer that? Even if she could remember, she couldn’t just go home like this. That led directly into her next problem. How on earth was she supposed to tell anyone that she was actually human without looking like a madwoman? She doubted that there was any real way to prove it, at least not right now. She refocused on the initial question. No point in being dishonest so…

“I don’t remember.”

“Don’t remember?” Indeedee chatoted back, a shadow of concern passed over her expression. “Like you don’t remember where you were when it happened? Were you out in the Wilds? What were you doing out there?”

“No.” Bellatrix’s tail twitched. Was she dense? “I mean I don’t remember. Anything.”

Indeedee’s concern shifted to bafflement. “I’ve never heard of any cases of amnesia occurring as a result of teleportation,” she muttered. “Outside of some disorientation, the effects are purely physical, though it seems that you came through fully intact.”

Bellatrix let out a bitter snort. “Lucky me,” she deadpanned.

“Yes, well, can you at least remember what you were doing the moment you teleported?”

“Drowning.”

Indeedee frowned. “Anything else? The identity of the teleporter? The local environment? Anything will help to narrow things down.”

Bellatrix could hear herself growling beneath her breath. Didn’t she hear a word of what she said? Irritated, she shook her head. “Some kind of shore, seeing that it’s seawater I’m covered in, but that’s all I can infer. Otherwise, I already told you. I cannot remember.”

Indeedee crossed her arms and tapped her stubby fingers against her arms. “Hm. We can try to trace the psychic-signature, but that’s not always accurate and is going to cost extra due to the procedure’s complexity. Not to mention that tracking down the culprit once we found a trace is an entirely different matter…”

The rest of Indeedee’s words didn’t register to Bellatrix. It seemed that she’d be stuck for an indeterminate amount of time listening to this meaningless prattle. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

“Are you listening, Zorua?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Bellatrix replied dismissively, “and don’t call me that,” she added with a low growl.

She turned her back on Indeedee with a small huff. The idea that this was all just an extended nightmare had all but evaporated at the back of her mind. Though at this point, Bellatrix would have preferred death beneath the waves than being subject to whatever cruel joke this was.

“Now, there’s no need to sulk, dear,” said the psychic-type in a voice laced with false cheer. “What else am I supposed to call you beyond what you are if I don’t know your name, hm?”

I’m not— “It’s Bellatrix,” she grumbled.

There was a long pause. “That’s not like any name I’ve ever heard,” Indeedee muttered beneath her breath – something Bellatrix’s new hearing was able to pick up on. “You must have come from quite far,” she added, clearing her throat. “North too based on that coat, though I hear the far south is just as cold. Too far for that, though.”

Bellatrix could only glare back at Indeedee. By now, her thin patience was running on fumes. “You could say that,” she said coolly. Regret seized her upon seeing Indeedee’s features brighten. All Bellatrix could do was brace for another line of questioning.

“So you do remember something!” she exclaimed. “Do you have any idea where you came from then?”

Spirits, why was she so persistent? She already answered her questions. All Bellatrix wanted was to be left alone, to be spared the embarrassment of being seen in her current state yet this dense creature wouldn’t stop pestering her. She was about to snap at her to send her away but then an idea crossed her mind.

“No. I just did not recognise the name ‘Metemall’, although, if you could perhaps procure a map of the area, it might be able to jog my memory.”

Indeedee leaned back for a moment, humming in thought. “It would be possible to procure one from the local library, though that may take a couple days. In the meantime, we can continue any physical checkups and arrange for a tracing of the psychic signature. Now, about that physical…”

Without warning, Indeedee scooped Bellatrix off her paws, leaving the zorua to yip in displeasure.

“Put me down,” Bellatrix growled.

Indeedee did not. Instead, she poked around Bellatrix’s throat and jaw, causing her to flinch then cough. “Open your mouth,” she then requested. Bellatrix refused, leaving Indeedee to pry open the zorua’s jaws with an incomprehensible mutter.

Bellatrix saw red. Who was this pokémon to treat her as not only a child but a pet? She attempted to wriggle free but Indeedee had an iron grip which only tightened in response to her squirming.

“Oh, be patient for just a moment, dear,” Indeedee huffed. “The more you struggle, the longer this will take and the more uncomfortable you’ll be.” A pause. “Hmm, it’s an improvement but still heavily irritated,” she then said, letting go of Bellatrix. “I’ll need to make another soothing draught for you.”

Back on the floor, Bellatrix snarled. “Don’t ever do that again. Do I look like a wild pokémon to you?”

“How else am I supposed to check on you if you’re not going to follow basic directions?” Indeedee countered with a baffled expression.

“Don’t check on me then! I feel fine enough as is, so leave me alone!”

“I can’t do that while you’re still a patient of mine, dear,” Indeedee sighed, massaging her brow. “It may be scary and hard to understand given that you’re so young, but it’s something that will need to happen. Maybe your parents can teach you some manners once you get home.”

“I’m not a child!” Bellatrix exclaimed, outraged. “Get out and leave me alone already!” she then spat, hoping in vain that everything would just go away.

Indeedee stood up, arms crossed, a firm expression painted on her features. “You’re certainly acting like one,” she replied, voice strained by a temper on the verge of snapping. “I will be back with that draught and I want you to think long and hard about this, because your caretakers are going to hear of this. Understand?” She received a withering glare in response, which was more than enough for Indeedee. Without another word she left the room, muttering something about charging extra.

The door slammed shut with a hollow thud that left Bellatrix’s ears ringing. With little else to do, she threw herself against the floor hoping that the next time she woke up, it would be as far from this nightmare as possible. It wasn’t long before she discovered that she had many more tears to spare.
​

​

Frustration apparent in each and every step, Indeedee stormed down the stairs. Moon’s light, saying that this one was going to be difficult would have been a gross understatement. Normally, she was good at hiding any negative feelings she may have had towards her patients but this zorua was something else entirely. The zorua had been vague at best and downright unpleasant at worst, which made getting any information out of her a melmetallic feat. A psychic trace could only do so much. And that was disregarding the amnesia claims which brought in its own bevy of logistical issues.

On her way down, Indeedee passed by Naclstack, who greeted her with a stiff nod. She returned the gesture and hurried to turn the corner to reach the small supply room at the very end of the ground floor’s hall.

The room was stacked from ground to ceiling with shelves stuffed full of berries, seed and herbs containing no other furnishings beyond a small desk. A gothorita sat there overlooking a checklist of items with little acknowledgement of Indeedee’s presence, only looking up when she lightly coughed.

“Regarding our latest patient?” she hummed, taking note of Indeedee’s expression.

“Nothing but dead ends!” Indeedee replied with an exasperated huff. “Maybe you can tell me what use I’m supposed to get out of ‘she’s disrespectful and stubborn’.” She tapped her foot. “She also claims to have amnesia, which would be a first, but I’m more inclined to believe that—”

“She’s trying to hide something and is using amnesia as an excuse?” Gothorita finished with a half-hearted smile. She turned to start pulling the ingredients needed to create the prescribed soothing draught. “It’s possible, especially considering the species – Stars know that Naclstack hasn’t been pleased about her presence – but wasn’t she half-drowned when she came in? Maybe it wasn’t the teleportation but the lack of air that caused it.”

Indeedee sighed, relenting a little. “Well yes, but that leaves tracing as our only option in finding where she may have come from.”

“And you’ll be the one to do it?” Gothorita asked, keeping her attention on the shelves.

“Unless you find someone more qualified at that guild of yours, yes. You know I’d never put it on you with your… disability.”

“Mhm. Well, if I find one, I’ll let you know,” Gothorita replied in a dry tone. “But they’d be charging you for the service, which I expect would be added to the zorua’s bill. My, what an expensive little thing.”

“Expense is the least we need to worry about when it comes to her!” Indeedee retorted. She exhaled and rubbed her temples. “And not just the attitude. She’s only a child, I can’t imagine how scared or stressed she is right now.”

With a modest collection of seeds and herbs laid out on the desk, Gothorita put her hands on her hips. “It might be worth taking her out to try and jog her memory a bit. She’s likely still in shock but the extent of her memory loss can’t be too bad.”

“Oh yes, that reminds me. She asked me for a map for that very reason.” Indeedee went to gather the contents of the desk in a small satchel that had been laying on one of the shelves. “Could you do me a favour and stop by the library while I prepare the draught?”

A nod.

“Excellent. Off you go and do try to be back before noon.”
​

​

It was well past noon by the time Bellatrix, who’d been reduced to a mess of fur on the floorboards, heard the door creak open again. At the edge of her vision, beyond the tangles of her mane, she saw Indeedee carrying a small bowl in her paws, a rolled up parchment tucked beneath her underarm.

Bellatrix glared at her. “I told you to leave me alone,” she growled.

“You did, but not for how long. Besides, you’ll only get better if you’re treated, not by keeping yourself in here,” replied Indeedee with a hum. Just like she did before, she sat herself in front of Bellatrix placing the scroll beside her and the bowl in front of her. “Drink,” she said. “It’ll soothe any roughness in your throat.”

Bellatrix eyed the bowl, then Indeedee, sceptically. Her gaze attempted to turn defiant as it settled on Indeedee only to be broken by a sudden cough. The bowl was pushed closer in reply.

She didn’t want to drink it, especially not like a zorua. It smelt terrible too but Indeedee’s firm nod indicated that she didn’t have much of a choice. With a sigh and a shudder, Bellatrix leaned forwards, letting her new body and instincts take over and do the work. It was then when she realised that the liquid didn’t taste nearly as bad as it reeked.

It was far, far worse.

However, its effect was instant. It eased away at the rough scratch that lingered at the back of her throat like a balm, and that was enough for her to not spit it out. She didn’t even notice the faint tugging at the edge of her mind in the midst of her surprise.

When she finished, she noticed Indeedee was massaging a temple. Yet upon meeting Bellatrix’s gaze, she smiled plainly. Moving the now empty bowl away, Indeedee tapped the roll of paper a couple times. “The map you asked for,” she explained. “It should help with jogging your memories, but before you look over it, perhaps we can go out for some fresh air to help—”

“No!” The mere mention of such a thought was enough to bring Bellatrix up on her paws, legs shaking beneath her own weight. Go out? Like this? The idea was nothing short of shameful. As if Indeedee’s treatment hadn’t been embarrassing enough, but to be seen by an entire town? Out of the question. Snarling, she said, “I will not allow myself to be seen. Not like this.”

Indeedee looked at her dumbfounded before letting out a small chuckle. “Now, now,” she reassured in that oh-so grating voice. “A messy mane is nothing to keep yourself locked in for. It’ll do good at improving your mood and clearing your head. A good mood and clear head will make it easier for any lost memories to return to you. Besides, the view is nothing short of lovely.”

“I don’t do well in crowds,” Bellatrix snapped, turning her back on the psychic-type once again.

“Now who said anything about going to a crowded area?” Indeedee replied more firmly. “Especially after the stress you’ve been through?”

Bellatrix’s only response was a frustrated groan. By valour, Indeedee wasn’t going to give up, was she? She couldn’t stand it. Not only was she severely downplaying the grimness of her situation, Indeedee was mocking her for it. This went far beyond a ‘messy mane’, her mane was the least of her concerns. In fact, she’d vastly prefer not having one at all.

“You’ll need to leave this room eventually,” Indeedee said. “It would do you well to get more of your bearings, a map can only do so much.”

Was that a threat? Bellatrix’s ears lowered towards the sides of her head. Much as she loathed to admit it, there was a kernel of truth to what Indeedee was saying. She couldn’t be ‘treated’ forever and she certainly didn’t want to be under Indeedee’s care for longer than she needed to be. She just hated how the issue was constantly being brought to the forefront of her mind, especially regarding payment.

Then again, doing nothing on the floor was not exactly the most appealing of alternatives either.

“Fine,” she relented, already attempting to justify the reasoning to herself. “But only if you ensure that no one will see me.”

Indeedee clasped her hands together. “Very good! Come on now.”

As Bellatrix stood herself up again and took her first unsupported steps, it dawned on her how weak she felt. Beyond the persistent aches that rippled through her entire body, her body felt as if it was made with fragility in mind, like she would shatter in even the lightest of breezes. It felt so pathetic, a word that screamed at her like a howling wind.

She looked back at Indeedee, who stood a head and a half taller than her, seething over the flicker of pity she saw in her eyes.

Indeedee paid her no notice as she walked towards the door. She beckoned at Bellatrix to follow.

The unfamiliarity of Bellatrix’s new form caused her to stumble, tripping over her extra pair of legs. forcing her into a slow, awkward shuffle. Little as she could remember, Bellatrix was certain that she’d moved faster as an elderly woman.

“Take as long as you need,” Indeedee reassured. “You’ll regain your strength in no time.”

Bellatrix didn’t believe it. With a defiant growl, she began to focus solely on her steps, attempting to find a rhythm within them.

After a few moments, Bellatrix made it through the doorway. Wooden halls of the same, rough make as the room extended from both the left and the right of the door frame. The halls lacked any decoration beyond the wood grain and a few potted plants. The right side ended with a windowed wall after a few metres, while the left continued around a corner and into a stairway. At the bottom of the stairs, Bellatrix spotted a gothorita crouched behind a desk, organising the contents of several opened drawers. Light filtered through the building’s entrance, causing her to shudder.

Bellatrix stared at the gothorita for a moment before ripping her gaze away to draw less attention to herself. “Are there only pokémon around here?” she muttered to herself.

Indeedee, having heard what she just said, chuckled. Like Bellatrix had just asked if the sky was blue. “Well, of course! What kind of question is that?”

Bellatrix flinched, then her heart sank. “I guess I heard of places that had more than just pokémon living there.” She was left to wonder if Indeedee even knew what a human was.

“Well, who knows?” Indeedee sang. “It’s a vast world out there, for all I know, the Ancients might still be out there somewhere. Anyway” – she gestured to another hall behind the front desk – “come this way. It’ll be much quieter than going out the front.”

From there, the two pokémon walked through the hallway in silence that was only disrupted by the sound of Bellatrix’s claws tapping against the floor. The lack of windows here left the hall in darkness, shrouding the atmosphere in a deep, familiar loneliness. For a moment, Bellatrix almost felt comfortable – a moment that was cut short by the creaking of an unoiled door, the opening of which flooded the corridor with light.

Bellatrix was greeted by the sight of a towering back alley shaped by rudimentary buildings. She might’ve almost been impressed had it not been devoid of the sophistication of human make. The narrow street winded around buildings that seemed to have no sense of care regarding their placement; some were too close together, others too far apart and the paths left by them seemed to branch off into dead ends. Bellatrix swore that she had fallen into a crude parody of the world.

“From a small village, I take it,” asked Indeedee, interrupting Bellatrix’s train of thought.

“I don’t know,” Bellatrix huffed, beginning to pant in the afternoon heat. “But I doubt that it was this inelegant.”

“Inelegant?” Indeedee repeated. “The abundance of rich metals makes this one of the grandest locales in all of Yanpei. I’d certainly love to know where you might have come from if this is inelegant to you.”

Like I’d tell you, Bellatrix thought though another twinge of worry flitted through her mind. Just like Metemall, the name ‘Yanpei’ was unfamiliar. Just where was she? “And ‘Yanpei’ is?” she asked, expecting the answer to be that of an island or remote region.

Indeedee shot Bellatrix a bewildered look. “You cannot tell me that you don’t know the name of the continent you’re standing on.”

Instead, Bellatrix made herself take the role of a fool again. Fantastic.

Fur bristling, she shook her head. “I’m still a bit disoriented,” she said stiffly. “I’m sure it’ll come back to me once I get a proper look at that map you gave me.” A map that she should have been looking at now instead of being forced to play along to the whims of this insufferable ‘medic’.

Indeedee nodded but didn’t say anything more, leaving the two to continue their trek in silence. At their pace, they were certain to not be back at the clinic by sunset.

As they walked, the narrow, cobbled together streets widened, vanishing into open air and grassy fields. It wasn’t long before they were surrounded by hills that rolled towards the horizon, welcoming anyone to climb their verdant slopes.

A crisp breeze ruffled Bellatrix’s fur as they ascended, providing a much needed respite from the heat she’d been subjected to during their walk. Indeedee stopped the moment she reached the top and once Bellatrix arrived herself, she was greeted with the sight of the sea, glittering in the afternoon light, weaving between the steep peaks and cliffs of a great fiord. The breeze, still modest, was now underscored with a salty after-taste filled with the nostalgia of a time beyond the reaches of her memory.

For just a moment, Bellatrix forgot about her worries, enraptured by the view.

Seeming to take note of her reaction, Indeedee asked, “Beautiful isn’t it? Those are the Cloudburst Ranges, one of Metemall’s many prides and joys.” She put her hands on her hips. “It’s even spectacular on an overcast day as the clouds will cascade down the sides, stopping just above the water. I can take you out again on a cloudy day if you want to see it—”

Bellatrix was hardly listening. She wanted to savour this moment for just a while longer. However, as she looked, she noticed something flicker in the corner of her eye. Curious, she focused and then, she noticed it for the first time.

Standing on the edge of a distant cliff was a shadowy figure, gangly and elongated. Most details were lost within its wispy form that wavered in the wind, its only distinguishing features being four legs, a neck, and a pair of burning, white eyes that stared at her with what Bellatrix could only describe as overwhelming hatred.

Its presence felt unnatural. Impossible. Yet as she stared, the horrid seed of familiarity bloomed within her. Gaze fixed and breath unsteady, Bellatrix backed away. In response, the shadow tilted what appeared to be its head.

Bellatrix nearly screamed.

“Hm? What are you looking at?” asked Indeedee, her voice muffled by Bellatrix's rising panic.

It was just enough to break Bellatrix out of her trance, her attention tearing itself away from the shadow and back onto Indeedee.

“I think there’s something—” she looked back to where the entity had been, only to realise that it had vanished like it had never been there to begin with. Shock became confusion as she wondered what that thing even was. A figment of her imagination produced by exhaustion? That’s what she wanted to latch onto, then she could forget about it entirely; but that didn’t explain the sense of familiarity or the sheer dread she felt from the sight of it.

Bellatrix stared at the ground, trembling.

“N-nevermind. It’s nothing,” she answered.
​

In this desolate place was a demon who had escaped from its shadowy prison.​

 

[TheGOAT]

Prologue – The Starchild’s Lullaby​

A long, long time ago, the Moon heralded the dawn…

—Opening line of Her Grace, first part of the Celestial Procession: Moon​

–​

Far away, draped in a thick veil of eternal fog, in a land abandoned by all – from mortal to deity – ran an absol with a pervasive itch in her horn. With unparalleled speed and unwavering focus, she leapt over and through sheer cliffs and steep valleys, towards the heart of this undead land. Her old paws knew the way all too well, each breathless bound taking her higher towards the central mountain range until a tangle of pine ushered her into a timeless abyss.

But before she could take that first step, her vision turned bright red with a premonition.
​

…

In an alcove beneath a wind-swept cliff, two ghostly zoroark stared each other down. The smaller’s ears were pinned back, her maw contorted into a snarl at the larger’s grin that held nothing but vehement malice.

“How fitting that we meet again like this,” the larger taunted. “But unfortunately, luck doesn’t appear to be on your side this time.”

…​

White fur stood on end as the absol blinked away the vision. With it went the unbearable sear that had momentarily replaced the itch in her horn. Her eyes adjusted to the surrounding environment; a thicket that hadn’t been touched by sun nor moon for many millennia, features unnaturally pulled and contorted to form an immense labyrinth as both time and space became naught but a mere suggestion. Most would avoid such a place – in fact, they would’ve been wise to do so – but the absol knew this route far too well as it had always proven itself to be the quickest.

Being so familiar, it was easy to predict how the environment would shift and distort. She ducked to avoid a branch that’d thrusted itself onto her path, leapt over bottomless pits and onto shaking rocks, using the immense root systems as platforms. She passed through barrier after barrier of distortion; not much further until— There!
​

…

Thin air surrounded the throat of the kneeling – weavile? sneasler? None could tell – siphoning her breath away, the threat of her demise becoming reality as her vision clouded with darkness. How much longer before all was lost in this miasma?

No. She couldn’t think like that. The hybrid’s gaze moved away from the ground as she braced herself, fixating on the frozen sun’s jagged, crystal eye.

…​

This isn't normal, the absol thought, emerging into a great expanse of ruins. Long strands of grass bore through cracked cobblestone. She walked past buildings, their structures and foundations long undermined by the roots and branches of nature’s will. As she did, she thought back to the times when her imagination would whisper of conversations of those who’d once lived here and the routines of their daily lives. But her thoughts never lingered, for if they did, sadness would’ve consumed her long ago.

Past the ruins laid another distorted labyrinth that guarded and entangled what would’ve been a direct path to her destination. More dangerous, more unreliable, but she could not hesitate, even as the shifting sensation in her horn heralded the coming of another vision. It overtook her moments after she stepped through the barrier.
​

…

A marowak of dark hide and cyan flame walked along the sanded edges of a glistening shore with only her own thoughts for company. She’d long since abandoned the lapras who had brought her here, for there was nothing for her to return to.

Days had passed with little care for pause or precaution, her exhaustion becoming increasingly obvious. Soon, she spotted a great forest that bore the unmistakable appearance of a Mystery Dungeon. Only then did she stop.

…​

The spike of pain that came with it was more intense than the last. Absol found herself trying to shake off the ensuing dizziness from such a shock, steps becoming wobbly. This was bad. Very bad. If she was to succumb to these strange visions, let the pain cripple and distract her, then she couldn’t…

Adrenaline coursed through her system, fuelling her. Absol bolted through the dungeon, leaping over its many obstacles, circumventing the corridors, her horn her guide. She passed through many more veils of distortion, the labyrinth growing more complex and dangerous in turn, as if it was fighting back by preventing her from going any further.

But Absol was wise to this dungeon’s tricks. Even if grazed by the odd trap or two, she would always evade the worst of it. Soon, she emerged onto stable ground once more, leaving the tangled canopy of grass and stone trees behind.
​

…

Before the great dragon beneath the sanctuary, eyes and scales dulled with age, stood a koraidon, eyes bright and scales gleaming.

“Why have you come? What causes you to disturb my slumber?” the immense creature rumbled.

“Great Dragon, I beg. The Silver Death has reawakened the demon that is Lightless and I do not know anyone else capable of stopping it. Please! before it brings death to all who live in this world.”

The great dragon’s eyes closed as the ground rumbled with… laughter? “Little one, you have seen the altar, have you not? Death has encompassed this world for as long as it has lived.”

…​

Absol’s grip on the dirt beneath her loosened. Almost there, she reassured herself. Almost there. Just a straight path forward. For a split second she looked back, frowning at the distortion behind her. Though this land was no stranger to them, even before it had been abandoned, they had never been this intense. The increasingly esoteric environments fascinated her as she drew closer to her destination.

She shook her head. She couldn’t afford to let her mind wander about these things. She continued down the vestigial remains of the path through a dense forest. Wild pokémon who’d made their home here snarled at the disruption but vanished at the realisation that they were being ignored. One sharp left and then…
​

…

Nothing was real.

The spirit of what had once been a vulpix flickered like a dying ember in the emptiness. It struggled, asphyxiating as it desperately tried to hold onto any remaining shred of existence, but it was like trying to grip onto smooth glass.

And then… a light of brilliant, resplendent gold.

…​

She had arrived. The fog was at its thickest here, which made it impossible to see more than a few metres ahead. Through the grey gloom, Absol felt her way forward until her paws came into contact with a steep, rocky incline. Her claws dug in, finding the well-worn punctures that she’d left there so long ago, and keeping her body close to the rock wall, she began to climb.

It wasn’t easy. It was never easy on her old bones, especially when visibility was so limited, but she had no other choice but to continue. Several times her hindpaws would slip, leaving them to scramble, her mind racing with each frantic motion. And once again, In the midst of her clambering, her vision flashed red.
​

…

A riolu shivered in the darkness. Her team had managed to find some kind of shelter in these desolate lands, the rocky terrain peppering her paws with orange dust.

Her aura sensors were going haywire. She could sense them, stalking her, tempting her with their abyssal whispers. She tried to get them out of her head, not realising that she was running deeper into the cave, skidding to a stop once she came across a hole that the riolu could sense was unnaturally deep.

Something was down there.

Someone was down there.

…​

When Absol returned to reality, she realised that she was standing frozen on the edge of a large, rocky basin. She had made it to the top. She looked behind her, finding nothing but swirling mist; ahead and below, a modest body of water that continuously rippled. She let out a deep sigh of relief; she’d arrived with only seconds to spare.

She walked around the edge towards a collapsed boardwalk that led to the water, its wood caught in a limbo between pristine and rotting, still slippery despite no water touching it for thousands of years. Absol looked around before climbing down. When she reached the rippling surface she took a deep breath, put a paw to the liquid silver and sang.
​

Starchild, 'o starchild,
Why do you stir?
Come, 'o child of stars
Lay down your head
And wrap yourself warmly in this blanket of mist

Still now, dear child
For even you must set
And let me speak to you in ancient tongues,
The language of a thousand stars
To guide you through this eternal night

Cast away your sorrows
Forget about your worries
And return to the warmth of your forest haven
For nothing but darkness remains
And your world is in good hands.

Still now, dear child
For even you must set
And let me speak to you in ancient tongues,
The language of a thousand stars
To guide you through this eternal night

Let your tomb of mountains bear the burden of the cold
Let your memories of forests act as the pillars of your dreams
Let moon and stars carry the skies away from you
Let your weary self rest beneath this cover of silver
And let the world be safe

For only then, will you be home again.​

She lifted her paw, allowing her lullaby, her Perish Song, to carry far and reverberate off the steep, rocky walls that surrounded them. For a brief moment, the winds picked up before stilling with the water, leaving nothing but its reflective surface behind. Absol’s tail twitched. Four days, she thought as she began to climb again. Coupled with the fact that her visions were nothing short of an ill omen, it had only been four days since the last time she’d done this routine. Time was running out, her lullaby becoming ineffective. Sooner or later, she would have to sing every day, every hour to keep the inevitable at bay.

When she stepped onto the basin’s pinnacle, she closed her dull eyes and took a deep breath before looking out towards the southeast. There, obscured by a wall of fog, laid the distant ruins of a city once joyous and prosperous – much like the rest of this land. Where it all went wrong.

Where it all began.
​

…

In the deepest depths of the void, the remains of a man screamed in agony.


The Legion of the Eternal Moon
Book One: Sanctum of Omen​

Due mostly to its position in the story (i.e. pre-prologue), I’ll opt to offer some passing thoughts of The Sun in the Mirror instead of a deeper analysis of its content and meaning. I think this is the sort of thing that sounds somewhat like gibberish now but will be neat to revisit later with context. It’s very clear what’s happening right away, at least — a mother talking to her child – and it flows well even though it’s technically not a ‘conversation’. Admittedly this doesn’t entirely save it from being skimmable, though it does help mitigate. At ~1700 words it falls somewhere between pure exposition and what seems to be vague foreshadowing. I’m eager to look out for callbacks and references as I get deeper into the story proper, I just wonder if it would’ve hit harder to trickle down truncated bits and pieces of this legend during the story so that in theory it would be popping up once I’m already invested and equipped to read deeper into it. Hearing folktales in a vacuum can only hit so hard.

I was also wondering about the description used. You have a talent for writing highly descriptive, highly specific prose, so kudos for that, but I reckon a young child in-universe most likely doesn’t have the comprehension to parse much of it with continuity and clarity. Of course, young children might just fail to do that even with simpler descriptions, but I'm talking in terms of vocabulary. Maybe that’s just how the grandmother talks?

Ah. I do have one piece of legitimate analysis, actually: Vulpix good.

Onto the prologue. So we have “longhaveiwaited”, “inslumberscomfortingembrace”, “myfailureshauntmydreams”, “butthwindshavewhispered”, “ofmyrise”, “andallwillbetomy”, and a bit later, “design”. I thought they were bitten-off chunks of rambling at first but they actually clearly seem to be contiguous; either way, it’s a neat little cipher. Kind of adds an unspoken narrative mystique about Absol’s classic premonition powers in a way I haven’t seen done before. I’m looking forward to the payoff of what it means.

Of the visions themselves, their events were mostly either too mundane or too vague to grip onto. I think, with there being six of them, and all of them involving characters with no provided backstory except what the brief visions offer, none of them left a terribly strong impression on me except the one about koraidon (the least vague). Besides some cursory worldbuilding, it establishes two conflicts at once: reawakening demons and the indifference of gods. Really liked that one; the rest I’m indifferent on, which might change with some recontextualization later, if I remember enough details.

Really loved the ending though. The buildup throughout, between the cipher cutting off before the last word and the slow reveal that Absol’s song was some kind of Perish Song designed (unsustainably) to keep some great evil at bay, comes together nicely. I appreciate how it was put in rather objective terms by having her realize, perhaps in horror, that the time between “rituals” was shrinking, sort of like dealing with dangerous bacteria slowly adapting to a certain kind of antibiotic. It’s a good hook.

Addendum: During the pre-prologue and the prologue, you used the word “immense” five times. Not necessarily a critique, I just like to point these things out whenever I can because authors will often use descriptors (usually subconscious personal favorites) much more frequently than the median amount without realizing. This is no reason to avoid a word, I just figured it’d be good data to hear from someone else.

 

[Inkedust]

Chapter 3 – An Echo of a Ghost​

Any significant elemental-based interaction will leave behind trace energies, better known as a “signature”, for a brief period of time. Given that the way moves or techniques are manifested differs between species, any keen or experienced tracer will be able to identify which pokémon took part of a battle after signs of a struggle.

Of these elements, the psychic-typing is the most prone to linger, while also accentuating the presence of any primary or secondary elements such as the fairy-typing of a gardevoir. This is particularly useful when investigating any form of psychic trickery such as teleportation or suggestion.

It is imperative that a tracer learn how to identify and differentiate these energies. Below is a table of known pokémon with such capabilities, the names of the techniques they use and how their signatures appear…​

—A Tracer’s Introduction to Elemental Energies, Chapter 17: The Psychic Typing​

​

Fir branches whispered in the wake of a powerful wind. Rain battered through the treetops and pelted the floor of an immense forest made of shadows. Bellatrix stood in a clearing. Questions bombarded her at a speed that mirrored the pouring rain, the droplets clinging to and soaking through her fur, straight to the bone. Echoes of familiarity taunted her from beyond the veil of amnesia. Just where was she? Why was it so familiar? Had she been here before? She didn’t know. Any attempt to find an answer only led to dead ends, leaving her mind to repeat those same questions over and over again as a mantra.

A mantra that broke the moment Bellatrix heard an earsplitting, bestial shriek that caused the trees to shake.

The sound, which could only be described as an ugly hybrid of despair and fury, drilled to her core. Rattled and ears ringing in agony, Bellatrix froze in place. She did not dare to breathe in the hopes that whatever that thing was would not hear her.

It heard her.

Twigs and branches snapped as the overpowering sensation of something rapidly approaching drenched Bellatrix in dread. She was being hunted. And all she could do was run.

Fear, adrenaline and her own sloppy movements grimly reminded her of her body’s unfamiliarity and fragility. Leaden raindrops weighed her down, slowing her frantic scramble through the unending forest. Sporadic flashes of lightning blinded her. Trees bended and knotted themselves around Bellatrix, tighter and tighter, suffocating her. Sharp branches and pine-needles clawed at her, dragging her back.

Her efforts were quickly proven to be futile. Whatever was pursuing her reached her in seconds. A small, panicked whimper escaped her throat as it became impossible to discern between the wind’s passage and the entity’s presence.

She felt it breathing down her neck, ready to pounce at any moment.

No. Nonono—

Bellatrix leapt sideways, into a bramble that was more thorn than bush. She accepted the sting of fresh cuts that bloomed across her body. It was her only chance at escaping with her life. Choking on her own breath, Bellatrix curled into a tight ball, head pressed against the forest floor, making herself seem as small as possible.

The sound of scraping claws sung in tune with Bellatrix’s frantic heartbeat as she swore that she could feel the creature’s gaze sweep past her. She heard a barely-suppressed snarl, and then…

Nothing.

The creature’s presence receded alongside the surrounding storm. But even then, Bellatrix refused to budge. A trick. A trick. It was certainly a trick and that thing was waiting for her to foolishly abandon her hiding place.

So she waited, eyes squeezed tight, even as the forest fell silent.

Bellatrix only dared to open her eyes when she felt the light of dawn warm her shivering body. She watched as the soft morning light dissolved the tangled branches of the forest that had been warped beyond recognition. She basked in the sun’s unparalleled relief, beginning to blink away the fading shadows at the edges of her vision.

When her eyes reopened the fourth time, Bellatrix found herself back in the apothecary room. Its calm stillness juxtaposed the shadowy forest and the frazzled state it’d left her in. Her straw bedding stuck out in various directions within the tangles of her ruff and mane in the exact spots where thorns and rain droplets had nestled. The rest was carelessly strewn across the floor.

A nightmare. Just a nightmare, she thought.

As if she wasn’t living through one already.

Bellatrix’s breaths slowed as she regained some semblance of composure. She wanted to move on and forget about the nightmare, but the sense of familiarity the forest had left her with beckoned and forced her mind to linger and speculate. Was she re-experiencing a memory that had attempted to resurface? If so, what was that thing that was chasing her and why? What business did she have with it and the forest? Without fail, every line of questioning drew Bellatrix’s mind back to that entity. Where… where… where—

In an instant, Bellatrix realised the connection. That shadow she saw yesterday. That had to be it. However, that just left her with a flurry of new questions. She pawed at her temples in an attempt to rub them, dismissing them all with a new possibility: she was going insane.

Hallucinations caused by stress and exhaustion, further compounded by a pair of harrowing days, were making her see things that weren’t really there. While the dream felt real – and Bellatrix had never been much of a lucid dreamer – things feeling real didn’t mean they actually were. She was certain that she’d forget about it in the coming days.

She slumped back down on the remains of the straw bed, hoping to get an extra hour’s worth of rest. Despite sleeping through the night, Bellatrix felt as if she’d just run a marathon. As she shut her eyes, a fleeting spark of anxiety hoped that her stubborn affirmations were true.

She never wanted to see that forest again.
​

​

Indeedee massaged her forehead, trying to nurse the pounding headache left by her attempt at tracing the zorua. Recoil was expected – even basic traces left her light-headed – but was on another level. Not even a good night’s sleep was enough to shake it off. Whoever was responsible for bringing the zorua here was powerful, beyond what she’d have expected out of the most practised alakazam or gardevoir. But what bothered Indeedee more was the lingering type-essence left behind.

While she had considered the possibility of non-psychic energies (invaluable as it indicated the presence of a secondary-typing), Indeedee had expected something like fairy or fighting. She was left stunned when she felt, covering the zorua like a veil, that it was unmistakably ghost.

As far as Indeedee knew, there were no ghost-types with the ability to teleport, and that brought her back all the way back to square one. Which only left…

When the thought of getting the guild involved crossed her mind, Indeedee let out a long sigh. If they did, they would act all pretentious, make her feel stupid and incompetent, and then charge her a small fortune for it. She hated all three.

The front door creaked open, and Gothorita stepped in.

“Thank you for coming so early, especially on such short-notice,” Indeedee greeted with a nod.

Gothorita yawned in response. “You needed me for something?”

“I did. Do you, by any chance, know of any teleporting ghost-types?”

A shake of Gothorita’s head.

“Thought so, and therein lies the problem: they don’t seem to exist, do they?”

A confused look. Then: “Oh!” Gothorita exclaimed, her tired mind putting two and two together. “Is this about the zorua’s trace?”

Indeedee nodded. “All signals point to the perpetrator being a powerful ghost-type. I believe you can see the problem in that.”

“Do you think the teleporter had an accomplice? To try and mess with or cover the trace that was left behind?”

“Possible, but the method would have to be highly sophisticated, and it would be far more annoying for us,” Indeedee said. “And it being possible leaves it as the only likely explanation. And that’s not even bringing up the amnesia. As things are, it’s impossible to figure out where that zorua even came from.”

Gothorita paused. She closed her eyes, deep in thought. “Have you taken a closer look at the markings on her back?”

“I didn’t think much of it.” Indeedee didn’t want to admit she’d hardly noticed them. “Why?”

“Ever since I saw them, I was thinking that maybe it could help in trying to figure out a solid location,” Gothorita explained. “You know how ghost zorua and zoroark have a bit of a reputation bearing curses, right? Because of that, most of them tend to live alone in tribes on the outskirts of civilisation. I’m thinking that she came from a tribe that marked its members. If we just figure out which ones do and then match the markings, we might be able to find her home. The guild recently did some scouting in the surrounding areas too, so we might be able to find something.”

Indeedee leaned back a bit.

“It’s a start,” she said after a moment. “And that leads us right into why I called you in so early. I was considering asking the guild for help, given the sheer oddity of the signature. Don’t want to do it, but there’s no way to avoid it now.” She chuckled ruefully. “As soon as the guild opens its offices for the day, I would like you to put in a request for a trained psychic to try and get to the bottom of this. Trace and memory probe. Shouldn’t be too difficult, given your status there, and you may as well look into your theory in the meantime.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know my findings as soon as possible. Let me apologise for the fee in advance,” she then added mareepishly.

“Just get it over with.”

“Right…”
​

​

Sunlight crawled over Bellatrix’s face. She grumbled, eyes opening as her ears picked up the sound of bustling markets coming from outside. The noise made it impossible to fall asleep again despite her immense fatigue. Following her ears, she made her way to the window, secretly hoping that her mind would be taken off that nightmare.

There at the windowsill, she was privy to a small glimpse of life within the shabby town. She watched as pokémon filtered out of buildings and alleyways, striking conversations with each other. They rushed past one another with bags that were either empty or full of supplies in a routine that Bellatrix shuddered at the thought of being a part of – as if it was going to compromise the humanity within her.

The morning ticked on by, and Bellatrix quickly found herself growing bored with the affairs of beasts. Her curiosity would need to be sated elsewhere. At that thought, her attention shifted onto the rolled up map Indeedee had brought in yesterday. She hadn’t gotten to study it then as it had been too dark at the time.

Eagerly, she unrolled the map, hoping to find anything familiar to her – only for her hopes to be quickly snuffed out the moment she laid eyes on it.

She did not recognise a single landmass. Nothing from the six continents to the many islands, large or small. Nor could she decipher the odd language the labels were written in – not that she was expecting to, either way. She was more surprised that these pokémon had a written language to begin with.

What caught her attention however, was a conspicuous blank space on the map. It sat at the top, depicted as some kind of swirling mist, covering a significant portion of ocean between the northwestern and centre continents. Before she had any chance to properly wonder about what it may have meant, she heard a gentle knock, followed by the door creaking open.

Her ear flicked, expecting Indeedee, only to be quickly proven wrong.

‘My, my what a mess you made here,’ hummed a masculine voice at the back of her mind.

The zorua jolted in shock, swiftly turning around to find a kirlia. He was wearing a sash, a small, glittering badge firmly pinned at the front for display. He gave Bellatrix a knowing smile at her bewildered expression.

‘Not used to telepathy, hm?’

Bellatrix shot the kirlia a dirty look in reply. “No, not really. Perhaps that’s the result of me not liking any unwanted guests in my head.” A pause. “Indeedee’s not coming in today?”

Kirlia looked amused. “Oh, not to worry,” he said with a polite bow. “I’m a trained psychic at the Silver Thread Guild. I’m here per Indeedee’s request, in the hopes of helping jog your memory. Before we start though, why don’t you tell me how you feel?”

“Weak and exhausted,” Bellatrix answered, deadpan. “I’m not exactly brimming with energy at the moment.”

“Well, you certainly look the part. Perhaps a few prescribed sleep seeds would do the trick.” Kirlia leaned forward to peer at the map Bellatrix had been studying. “Either way, I believe that’s perhaps the best way we can start this off. Recognise anything? Where your home might be?”

Bellatrix shook her head, her paw tracing over the landmasses contours before it rested on the lower-right portion of the empty space.

Kirlia looked thoughtful for a moment. He crouched down and pointed towards the sizable southeastern peninsula on the northeastern continent. “We’re around here, in Metemall Town,” he explained. He seemed to be looking at her back for whatever reason. “And several nearby landmarks which include Mysterious Plains and the Darknight Relic. Do either of those names ring a bell?”

“No,” Bellatrix curtly answered. How many times do I have to say that I remember nothing?

“I see,” Kirlia sighed. “In that case then, you would not mind me trying to find whatever is suppressing your memories so we can begin to unravel them?”

Bellatrix gave him a sceptical glare. “Are you looking for an excuse to get back into my head?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Well, wouldn’t you allow it for the sake of regaining your memories?”

That gave Bellatrix pause. Yes, she would very much like her memories back. But…

Kirlia chuckled. “Oh it’s impossible for me to find nothing. You see, memories are never truly lost; they just get buried deep, deep within your head. So deep that you forget how to recall them. Now, it could be more difficult for me to unearth something depending on how severe your case is, but I will always have a thread to follow,” he explained. “The more willing you are, the easier it will be for me, so…?”

Bellatrix responded with a hesitant look. It sounded too good to be true – it couldn’t be true – but if it was true, then she couldn’t afford to lose an opportunity like this. She held her gaze for a moment longer before she took a deep breath.

“Alright. Fine,” she relented. “But if I notice you shuffling through my thoughts, then I will immediately expel you from them.”

“Of course. I’m here to help, not pry. Now take a deep breath and focus on the map; pretend I’m not even here.”

After a final pause and flick of her tail, Bellatrix complied, her attention once again swept up by the contours of the unfamiliar map. She flinched as a buzzing blossomed at the back of her head, demanding her to wonder what the kirlia was doing back there. Though it didn’t hurt, it was far from pleasant, and it seemed to only grow stronger with each passing moment. She spared a glance towards Kirlia, now visibly strained, his eyes screwed shut and his teeth grit.

Her fur stood on end and her legs began to shake. Bellatrix tried to refocus on the map but the lines, details and lettering doubled and trembled, overwhelming her vision. She tried to close her eyes but that only made the sensation worse. Sounds were replaced by static and numbness crept across her joints, rendering them limp. It was getting difficult to breathe.

Bellatrix collapsed.

Moments later, she felt Kirlia’s connection snap. Bellatrix noticed Kirlia rubbing his head at the edges of her blurred vision; he looked back at her and, cutting through his intense exhaustion, he looked horrified.

“I-I’m sorry,” he breathlessly mumbled. “I couldn’t find…”

Bellatrix’s ears flattened against her skull. “Couldn’t find what?” she demanded. Irritation flared within her. All of that for nothing? “You lied to me, didn’t you? You said that you’d be able to find something no matter how deep the memories were buried!” A growl rose from the back of her throat. “Why did you lie to me!?”

Kirlia shrank back at her words, trembling as he did. Good, Bellatrix thought. Give him and everyone else here a reminder to never pull a stunt like that again. She tried to sit herself up again but his next words stunned her.

“What are you?” he whispered.

“What… What do you mean?” Bellatrix asked, a thin layer of indignation masking her confusion.

Kirlia shook his head, scrambling back on his feet in a panic. “Sorry, I’m so very sorry, but I have to go,” he said abruptly, straightening his hair in a vain attempt to look less frazzled. “Indeedee will surely handle the rest. Yes, I’m sure she will do a good job,” he added, trying to calm himself.

Bellatrix opened her mouth to say something, but her questions died on her tongue as Kirlia sprinted through the door, slamming it shut behind him.
​

​

Indeedee drummed her fingers against the surface of her desk. Her gaze, which bore a pensive frown, was fixed on Kirlia.

“And you’re certain of this?” she asked.

“Y-yes,” Kirlia managed to stammer. “Make no mistake, Ms. In all the years of psychic training, I have never encountered a case quite like this one. I-I don’t even think that’s even a pokémon—”

Indeedee raised a hand to stop Kirlia in his tracks. “Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here. Tell me, as clearly and factually as possible, what you managed to uncover and we can try and break it down together.”

Kirlia gave Indeedee a perturbed look. “With all due respect, Ms. I’m not sure how you could be of much help. You aren’t registered with the Guild, and I doubt you’ve received much in the way of formal training. No, no, I believe I must take this to the Guildmistress before any civilians get involved.”

“She’s my patient, is she not?” Indeedee growled, arms folding. “I believe I have the right to know, especially seeing how I was the first to recognise any abnormalities.”

“Well, yes, but you must believe me when I say that these go far beyond the scope that either of us could have imagined, and that it is better and advised that you leave it in the Guild’s hands.”

“I’m not paying you if you don’t tell me anything.”

That got Kirlia reconsidering. After a long pause, he leaned forward to whisper, his gaze flicking left and right to ensure that nobody else was around to eavesdrop. “Very well, but you must promise that this stays between us. Not a word to anyone else, not even the –” he shuddered. “– the zorua. And I expect five silvers worth of extra poké as compensation.”

Indeedee didn’t like that, but she responded with a nod of agreement. “Let’s begin with the trace then.”

“Right, yes,” Kirlia began. “It was exactly as you described. Overwhelmingly powerful, with all signs pointing to a Ghost-type being the one responsible. You mentioned the likelihood of an accomplice, but I wasn’t able to detect two distinct energies, just the single powerful one.”

“And no chance of the ghost energy simply being a mask or veil for the actual trace?”

Kirlia shook his head. “Far too seamless for that to be the case; not to mention, it should have faded enough by now to detect the underlying signature of the perpetrator.”

Indeedee leaned back on her stool, holding the desk with both hands to not overbalance. “Any idea on what it might be, then?” she asked.

Another shake of his head. “I’ve been trained to recognise the signatures of most species, but this one is entirely new to me. Which is why I believe we’re dealing with something far worse than a simple teleporting incident. That and…”

A panicked look overtook Kirlia’s features, leaving him borderline manic in appearance.

“What I found when trying to uncover her memories,” he finished, his voice barely a whisper.

“And that was?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” answered Kirlia. “Like something went inside the zorua’s head and removed every last memory and hint of itself. The harder I looked, the less I found.”

“Hold on,” Indeedee said. “But that would imply that her memories were tampered with then, correct?”

Kirlia bit down on a fingertip. “You would be correct, yes,” he said. “But that leads into the question of what was responsible, because I am absolutely certain that this is no accident. Tell me, Ms., do you believe in demons?”

Indeedee shot him a sceptical look. “I don’t tend to put much stake in those stories,” she responded bluntly. “Are you saying that she is one, or was at the very least brought here by one?”

“The former,” Kirlia replied. “You see, demons are not a foreign topic to the Guild. The archives hold detailed notes regarding subjects which includes them, and consistent among each and every recount is the fact that they appear seemingly out of nowhere, and that they bear some kind of sigil on their bodies. You have noticed the markings on her back, right?”

Indeedee narrowed her eyes in thought. “They were pointed out to me by one of my assistants, yes. Though she believed they were a hint for where the zorua might have come from.”

“I could visit the archives today to try and produce any examples,” Kirlia offered. “The sigil on its own is little cause for alarm, as pokémon, especially the less civilised, paint and mark themselves all the time. It’s when combined with these other anomalies that it becomes a cause for concern,” he then explained. “You now see why alerting the Guildmistress is of topmost priority?”

Indeedee didn’t believe it, and she was unable to hide it. “I’ll humour it for now,” she said after a moment. “With that in mind, what do you suggest I do in the meantime? The Guildmistress is a very busy ‘mon, is she not?”

“That she is, but I’m certain she’ll prioritise this the moment it reaches her ears.”

“And until then?”

“Keep an eye on the zorua,” Kirlia answered. “Ensure she stays out of trouble. I am certain a letter regarding any further steps will be sent to you in due time if the Guildmistress finds this of any merit.”

Indeedee’s began to drum on the desk again. She certainly wasn’t intending to keep the zorua around, nor was she very happy to cave into the Guild’s demands. This was an apothecary, not an orphanage. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said stiffly.

“Very good,” replied Kirlia. He stood up to bow, though he could do little to mask his trembling. “If that is all, then I must be on my way. Expect word regarding payment to come to you in the near future. With luck, it should accompany any further direction regarding the zorua.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time.”

Kirlia gave her one final grunt of acknowledgement before he turned to leave. He didn’t bother catching the door as it swung shut, rocking back and forth on its hinges until it came to a standstill.

Left alone, Indeedee buried her face in her arms and let out a long, exasperated groan. She would need to let off some steam later. She lifted her head upon hearing Naclstack’s heavy steps approach the reception desk. He greeted her with an unenthused flicker of his eyes.

“How much did you hear?” Indeedee asked.

“Enough,” Naclstack rumbled. “I warned about bringing a curse into your care and look at what happened.” The sound of grinding stone filled the room as his gaze met Indeedee’s. “It isn’t too late to remove it,” he added quietly. “I ask that you do. Even as an aromatherapist, it has recovered enough to be left alone.”

Indeedee looked at Naclstack, uncertain. He was right. Indeedee didn’t want to keep a hold of that zorua for much longer, and she really had no obligation to. The guild was a problem, though that was easily circumvented by simply giving them the name of whoever was willing to take the zorua in – or taking her to the Guild themselves.

But she couldn’t help the pang of guilt she felt when she thought of the zorua.

“I’ll think about it,” Indeedee finally said after a long moment.
​

Forever bound to its heavy shackles of crystal and stone.​

 

[Ambyssin]

Blitzy New Year!
Disclaimer: My blitz reviews are stream of consciousness styled rambles. Let me know if you have any questions.

Prelude
-Interesting framing tool to have this written out as one side of dialogue to sell the storyteller aspect as best you can in a fully prose format.
-Vulpix and ninetales clan with close religious ties to the light trio, huh? And discussing the importance of balance b/w sunlight and moonlight? It's almost nostaaaaalgic~
-Gonna guess these four disciples are the Tapus and I guess one's fallen out of common knowledge due to reasons.
-I mean technically Solgaleo's not the true villain since his heart was shattered in true Kingdom Hearts fashion, but it is rare to see Solgaleo depicted as a monstrous member of the light trio. That honor almost always falls to Necrozma with some rarer instances of Lunala. I wonder if the staining blood thing is literal and this solgaleo is actually shiny?
-Ah, so the Ancients who defected became snowtales and snowpix.
-I wonder if these six warriors are actually UBs. Or paradox pokémon. The past ones, at least, going off the whole Ancients thing. Probably not, but you never know. At the very least, the chains are probably made of Z-crystals (or equivalents). And Dawn Wings Lunala fought Solgaleo off to seal him away. My guess is someone's going to try and loosen those seals in a bid to take that power as their own.

Prologue (sheesh a prelude and a prologue, huh? How fancy.)
-So, assuming there are proper mystery dungeons in this fic, I'm going to venture a guess they're parts of the mirrored world leaking through to the lively one. Or, at least, the most fearsome, high-ranking dungeons are.
-So, while I do think the subliminal message through the underlined letters is interesting, I think it was a bit too much to hide this secret. The combination of italics and underlining, at least for TR, did not translate over well. It took me far longer than I'd care to admit to decipher it (prrrrrobably at least 30-40 mins), because strangely shaped letters like f, g, and y do not pick up the underlining on the forum enough to pick out more than a pixel or two. And this has the unintended effect of causing me to not focus on the actual content of the prologue because I'm deciphering the puzzle. Bold face would've been much more obvious, for my part. Here's what I could get, though...
-First set of underlined letters: long have waited
-Second set of underlined letters: In slumbers comforting embrace
-Third set of underlined letters: my failures haunt my dreams.
-Fourth set: But th winds have whispered (could not find the underlined 'e' for "the")
-Fifth set: Of my rise
-Sixth set: And all will be to my
-Seventh: Design
-I have less to say about the individual visions themselves, because, again, I was focused on trying to piece these together. Clearly some subliminal messaging from Solgaleo. Judging by some of the tags on the thread, these are things that are going to happen in the future to potential characters of interest.

1
-So, our human is actually an elderly lady, is she? (Oof I guess narrator-chan doesn't consider pokémon to be people ;~;) Sounds as though she might have a kid or a student? One she does not think fondly of, even in death.
-Ah, yes, isekai'd by drowning. I suppose the "you died" aspect is what will turn her into a ghost fox and the bitterness touched on with the narration is perfect for the whole "baneful" angle of Hisuian zorua.
-Seems as the narration is leaning toward the omniscient side? The narrator's a separate character, for sure, though anchored with Bellatrix for the moment. But able to pull out as needed.
-Plopping Bellatrix down in the middle of the town square is a neat spin on the isekai arrival. I don't think I've seen a PMD fic have the human appear to a crowd.
-Oh boy fantastic ghost fox racism already. Then again calling them cursed doesn't feel too far off from Legends canon.
-I'm curious about the narrator calling Bellatrix's forelegs arms when they really aren't. I guess you like to think of zorua as having more dexterity? XD
-And there's the amnesia, along with the mandatory "examining the transformation." At least she knows what pokémon are, so this wasn't painful to read. Curious that she does seem to remember the moment of her isekai death. I think I've seen this take on things before. Possibly in Defenders of Warmth, which also drowns its fox protagonist at the start. Yes I nearly drowned my white fox too shhhh I'm well aware.

2
-I can't look at the word fjord and not think of a cringey line from a really bad animated movie. XD
-J-Just how common is it that pokémon here lose limbs or parts of themselves in teleporting incidents that Indeedee brings it up so casually in back to back parts?! :grohno:
-Is evolution tied to age in some regards here? Or do zorua just have different appearances going off age? Indeedee sure seems to think Bellatrix has ended up in a young zorua body, at least. Just the questions that flicker in when this stuff comes up. XP
-By valor? Bellatrix from Sinnoh then? I can never remember which pixie goes with which lake.
-The irony of human Bellatrix stubbornly leaving her apartment out of spite shifting immediately to zorua Bellatrix stubbornly insisting on not leaving her patient room is not lost on me.
-Indeedee considering the Ancients separately from pokémon really makes me think they're UBs or paradoxes.
-Four legs, a neck and burning white eyes? Hard to make any solid guess on what it is just off that. I'll just call it a phantom for now. Whatever this specter is will probably be back later. Haunting her in some capacity.

3
-The intro bit is certainly relevant given Indeedee's mentions of looking for psychic traces last part. Though I'm sure it's going to be relevant in other ways going forward. I mean, the big three gods are all psychic types themselves. :V
-I wonder if the dreamscape should've had a scene break or something. These things are always a tossup. That said, this seems to present this "nighttime bad, sunlight good," as if Solgaleo is somehow trying to manipulate her through nightmares.
-A ghost with immense teleporting powers, huh? That sounds like Lunala! or hoopa but they don't seem as important to the story at this point.
-It's a personal thing but I always die a little inside when I see "mareepishly" used in place of sheepishly. XD
-Six continents and a bunch of islands, huh? I wonder how many of them will be relevant down the line...
-The Mysterious Plains, huh? Gee, I wonder if there are any dungeons there.
-Ah, yes, the memory "expert" did his thing and it came back "tilt." You hate to see it.
-Oh, lol, so maybe there have been other souls isekai'd before (humans, potentially) and they've all been branded demons. Which means even more racism in store for Bellatrix in the future. Yaaaay.

We're still in the intro stages, of course. Things feel as though they're moving briskly enough, and in a unique fashion to your typical PMD fare. No, we're not dungeon delving or meeting any companions yet, but Bellatrix is going to be swept away by the guild soon, right? Well, either that or chased out of town due to superstitions. It does make me wonder how dark (heh) a slant this tale will take despite the relatively colorful descriptions of the locales so far...

 

[Spiteful Murkrow]

Heya. I went around asking some of the other reviewers taking part in RB5 for suggestions to blind read tonight, and this story wound up coming up courtesy of @Negrek . Though a PMD anthology, huh? I mean, I’m always down for more PMD fare, and you’ve got an interesting mix of tags, so let’s see where this winds up going:

Prelude

>that potholed song

Oh, so it’s meant to be played in the background while reading the chapter text, huh? Duly noted. You’re reminding me that I actually wanted to try something like this out sometime SOON™ for a songfic plot bunny I’ve got cooking on the back burner.

Spoiler

My, my, child! What are you doing up so late?

Hm? Can’t sleep?

I see. Well, it happens to everyone, so why don’t I tell you a story to help pass the time? That’s right, come and lie on my paws, there is something I want to show you. Comfortable? Very good. Now, look there – in the moonlight – upon the carvings and paintings that decorate the walls of our den.

Huh, so we’re doing this as a disembodied narrator to an unseen third party, huh? It kinda reminds me of the shtick that Starfrost used to tell its story. (Which is worth a read if you haven’t.)

They depict our story, our history as vulpix and ninetales, the tale of the Sun, Moon and Stars. I don’t believe I ever told you – or any of the other pups for that matter – but my daughter, your mother, used to love this story; I told it to her all the time when she was your age. I expected her to do the same for you, but here we are.

But I’m getting distracted. Look up to the large one carving that covers the ceiling. What do you see?

[ ] Ah-ha, not quite. Yes, they are very close to our clan, but these are our ancestors giving our thanks and loyalty to the Moon and Stars for saving not only their lives, but the entire land from the Sun’s wrath. For you see, our history is deeply entwined with him. I believe you may have already heard of the divine arrangement the Moon and Stars had with the Sun, but let me explain it more, for it is essential to the story.

I kinda wonder if the narrator should’ve revealed what his/her listener’s answer is. Since it’s a handy way of tipping off what the carving generally looks like even though said answer is wrong.

In the time of Ancients, the Sun and Moon worked in tandem, in cycles. The Sun, the more powerful and radiant of the two, would brighten the heavens to bring daylight. Though his light brought warmth to the lands, it would scorch and burn if left unchecked so the duty fell upon the Moon to give reprieve from the Sun’s intensity. Her wings would cloak the lands in darkness that absorbed the blinding light, leaving what remained with no warmth. When the world grew too cold, the Sun would return to warm the lands once more.

This is giving me similar vibes to the tale of Hou Yi from Chinese folklore, which is also premised around the idea of dealing with “7.8, Too Much Sun” problems.

Though if the story is meant to be tightly coupled to certain points of the music track you linked, consider adding hovertexted timestamps at different points to give readers an idea of how they should be pacing themselves.

‘But what of the Stars?’ you may ask. She danced in the breath of twilight, the borders between day and night, fleeing the moment either Sun or Moon would return to their place in the skies. She would not join the Moon in the night until after the events of the story I will tell you today.

I wonder if the stars are another Pokémon here between what I presume are Solgaleo and Lunala, or if they’re just the literal stars as parsed through folklore.

Long ago, when the Ancients still walked the land, the Sun forged us from the embers of his mane. He created us to serve as his attendants, beneath the command of both him and his four disciples. Remember that. He had four disciples, not three. Don’t you dare listen to anyone who insists that it’s three, my old heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

>Don’t you dare listen to anyone who insists that it’s three

Oh, there’s a story behind that one that’ll probably come up sometime later. I can already tell.

…

Anyway. For many, many years our ancestors served the Sun and his disciples loyally and all was right with the world. That was, until the fateful day the Sun lost his light. For you see, the Sun did not shine alone. He had a light that he held close to his chest and everywhere he went, that light would follow, providing joy and warmth to Ancient and pokémon alike. But, in the shadows, brewed envy, resentment of that light, and the desire to take it for oneself.

A desire an Ancient attempted to fulfil.

Okay, never mind, the “sun” in this story is Necrozma. Since I certainly recognize that MO there.

The Ancient refused to fathom why such power needed to be shared, for surely it would be more beneficial to keep it all to oneself. So, on a bitter winter’s night – Moon’s light veiled by an oncoming storm – the Ancient snuck into the Sun’s resting place, a peaceful forest sanctuary, and tried to take the light for themself.

I wonder if this is actually Solgaleo here, or else if not, who this ancient was.

But the Ancient was unable to take the light very far from its source, finding the two inseparable on a level they could not fathom. In a fit of jealous anger, they shattered the light into pieces before vanishing into the night.

Yet unbeknownst to the Ancient, that light had been the Sun’s heart and without it, the Sun had lost all sense of compassion. He grew more selfish by the day, resentful over the joy he could no longer have. Soon, he determined that if he could no longer feel such things, no one else should. To accomplish this, he needed complete dominion over the skies.

And then there was much ranting about “give me back my light!”, I can already tell. Since it wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve seen a Necrozma in a PMD fic take getting de-Ultra’d poorly™.

He gathered his followers and disciples and, during the zenith of her flight, struck down the Moon. Her blood irreversibly stained his fur red. Unchallenged, the Sun began to burn.

Not sure how they undid that one with Lunala. Though perhaps I was a bit quick to assume that this was Necrozma given that this appearance describes Shiny Solgaleo to a ‘t’.

But it was at this point when a schism began to form between the Sun’s followers. Though his influence was strong, some were able to see the Sun’s cruelty and apathy for what it was and began to dissent. The Sun, learning of this, stripped the insurgent vulpix and ninetales of their inner flame and banished them to perish in the burning lands. Most did, but the few who became our ancestors managed to find the Moon’s injured form.

Oh, so this is a “the story of how Icepix/tales came to be” myth, isn’t it?

Taking pity on them, the Moon filled the emptiness of their spirits with a cold chill to survive and take shelter from the inferno beneath her wings. We have been loyal to her as our goddess ever since. It is this birth from hardship that makes us stronger than our Sun-serving brethren, for unlike them, we would not be lost if the Moon were to disappear one day.

Lunar eclipses must be a real

-inducing time for these guys, I can already tell.

Now, before I continue, I must explain more about the lands we inhabit, for it is vital to understanding what happens next in our tale.

Our world exists on one side of a great, unending mirror that holds everything in equilibrium. It is said that there was a land where you could see this mirror’s surface in its immense lakes of liquid silver; where the two sides would converge, and, if the circumstances were just right, you could cross over to the other side.

Well, that’s certainly trippy. I wonder how accurate this description of the narrator’s world is, or if it’s meant to intentionally vibe with the sort of myths that ancient humans might have had where explanations for how the world around worked often were on the more fantastical side.

But that land no longer exists, and you wouldn’t really want to do that anyway. For you see, the reflected world beyond the surface is not our world’s double but its opposite. Where our side teems with life and colour, the other is desolate – inhospitable. Where we are gifted with warmth and light, the other is a cold, unforgiving void.

Ah yes, so we’re in Hyrule and Lorule right now. Or else in a place that’s close enough to it.

The Sun remains trapped on the other side of that mirror to this very day.

‘What happened?’ you ask, well! Exercise a bit of patience, I was just about to tell you.

The Sun’s light consumed the world; without the Moon, nothing could stop it. The lands were scorched, forests set ablaze and mountains turned to ash. It was to be the end of all life. The Ancients, desperate, called and prayed to the Moon for help, the Sun having long become ignorant to their pleas for mercy.

That actually makes me wonder if vanilla Vulpix and Ninetales in this setting have a flipped retelling of events for this myth, since hey, it wouldn’t be the first time that such a thing has happened for mythological narratives even in reality.

However, it was not the Moon, but the Stars who answered. The Stars had been in hiding when the Sun took over the skies, in fear of his immense power after she witnessed him strike down the Moon. But when she heard the Ancients’ pleas, she realised that she could not sit idly by as the Sun consumed the world. Through the strength of six warriors, she assembled her courage and formed a plan.

I’ve heard of there being ‘Warriors of Light’, though given that these six were apparently aligned with the moon, does that make them ‘Warriors of Night’?

They could not simply strike him down. Per his nature, he would rise again with new-found fury and continue devastating the lands. So the Stars thought that if he were to be somehow trapped, unable to rise, his rampage would be stopped. To accomplish this, the Stars forged chains of crystal and light to pin the Sun to the ground; two sets were made to double the chances of victory.

Whisperings of this plan spread quickly across the land, away from the Sun’s ears in the sky. It wasn’t long before the Moon caught wind of it, appearing before the Stars to offer her strength. She even knew the ideal place to trap the Sun; within the world’s reflection so that he could still imbue the lands with warmth whenever he gazed upon the surface.

I wonder if this is going to be a “why the sun is really, really far away from us” myth. Since assuming that the storyteller and his/her culture have a cognizance of that, this feels like a rather nice mythical explanation for why that is.

But the Moon was still injured and could not face the Sun directly, for it would have spelled her end; and the Stars lacked the sufficient power to do battle with the Sun within his domain. The two would have to face him together as one. See the paintings of the Moon’s familiar form covered in glittering crystal? That’s them, united.

With little delay, the plan was put into motion. The combined being gave the chains to the six warriors who would spring upon the Sun once he drew close to where the two sides of the mirror converged and drag him into the reflected world.

I wonder if the implication is that those heroes were fellow Icepix/tales, or else if they’re specifically remembered as other species such as Pokémon that the narrator and whatever group s/he lives in consider friendly.

They took to the skies and confronted the Sun who cursed the insolence of his adversaries as the battle began. The Sun would chase after his foe, who kept their distance but refused to back down, none the wiser to the fact that he was being led directly into a trap. For many weeks they would exchange blow after blow, exhausting each other, yet unable to strike the other down. The burning skies became blinding.

I actually wonder if the “sun” here is a mixture of parties that have gotten blurred by myth. Since some attributes feel very “Solgaleo” while others feel very “Necrozma”.

… Though I suppose it could just be Dusk Mane Necrozma. That would work too, as an explanation.

When the Sun reached the designated place, the six warriors wasted no time in ensnaring him in unbreakable chains. They held against his wild thrashing, allowing for the warriors to drag their former god away, locking him deep within the mirrored realm. Only his reflection remained as the world was left in soothing darkness, the Moon and Stars taking their place in the heavens, united. From then on, to this very night, the two soar the skies together, protecting the world from the Sun’s blistering light as he watches the world move on without him from his prison.

Sun:

But this tale ends with a warning. It is the Sun’s nature to rise again and again. Though his entrapments cannot break, they can loosen and yield against the power of his overwhelming nature. With his wrath and fury increased tenfold, he will return to enact his vengeance on his captors, and rend the skies with a crimson glare.

That’s going to actually happen at some point in this series, isn’t it?

Hm? Seems like you’ve already dozed off. No matter, that warning is nothing more than a means to scare misbehaving vulpix. Legends tend to embellish a few details, especially once they start fading into myth. The Moon and Stars will protect you, as they have always done. But that’s enough stories for now, I will tell you more on the morrow. It’s time for you to sleep, my dear little Nandina.

That should be ‘embellish’ there, as in to exaggerate or add untrue details. ‘Embezzle’ would be to steal or misappropriate something. Though ‘Nandina’, huh? I wonder if that’s one of our protagonists in this story.

Alrighty, time for the recap:

While I normally don’t really care for disembodied dialogue segments in stories, I think that you used it here in your Prelude quite well. It gives everything a very dreamy / mystical vibe that dovetails in quite well with the sense that we’re hearing a myth being told. I presume that your later chapters will most likely be different in format from a brief glimpse ahead, but it’s pretty effective as a story teaser to hook readers.

I noticed a couple small typos here and there in the text (with the most noticeable being ‘embezzle’ being used in the wrong context), but other than that, things were pretty put together. The one bigger complaint that I have is that I kinda feel that the narrator’s dialogue probably could’ve provided a bit more of a glimpse into Nandina’s answers or state of mind through acknowledging it more directly (e.x. whatever Nandina’s mystery answer to “What do you see?” was), but those are relatively easy fixes, and it didn’t really get in the way of me being able to enjoy the story.

Color me interested on this one @Inkedust , and I’ll have to come by and read a bit more of this story sometime.

 

[Phoenixsong]

Hello, Inke! Finally setting aside a little time to check out your fic—congrats again on getting it posted! I'll be breaking my impressions up into some spoilered sections just for neatness' sake. Been a bit too out of it lately to give a really in-depth breakdown here, but I'm always happy to expand on whatever you find interesting. Or just accept a silent, knowing smirk as you enjoy my speculation being wildly off-base, as it so often is. Either works!

Spoiler: Intro

The introductory story time is fun! Grandmother ninetales telling a story to a little one. (Wonder what happened to the mother?) Grandmother has a great tone for a storyteller, big and excited and knowing how to pace herself to keep her audience engaged. (Well, except when said audience is gettin' sleeby, at least.)

I wonder whether the "Ancients" might be humans, or at least some of them might've been? Always a question with PMD, one supposes.

This was a very pretty origin myth; fun way to incorporate shiny solgaleo, too. I had seen mention before in Discord that Kythra's sun was imprisoned and was curious about how the world was lit during the day; a mirror world is an interesting solution to that, and ought to provide some fun worldbuilding opportunities for things later. Dungeons, perhaps? Excited to see wherever that goes. Meanwhile I suspect the "light" that was so drawn to the Sun might be necrozma, what with the talk of shattering it and all that. I wonder what that leaves to be the Stars, at least before she became one with the Moon/lunala?

Legends tend to embezzle a few details,

Think you might mean "embellish" here rather than "embezzle"—the latter means to steal.

The fact that we're getting a name for the little sleeby vulpix makes me think that they'll be showing up again at some point...

Spoiler: Prologue

Ooh, starting off with a bit of a puzzle within the premonition, are we? Neat. Let's see, we've got...

long have i waited
in slumber's comforting embrace
my failures haunt my dreams
but the winds have whispered
of my rise
and all will be to my
design

(I think a few of the underlined letters might be a little easy to miss, "g" and "f" in particular, just due to the forum's font—not sure there's much you can do about it since it'll probably also vary from reader's device to reader's device, though. Maybe you could try playing with different font options in the forum's reply box just to see if any font there both looks good and makes the underlines consistently visible? Probably shouldn't worry about it unless it's really critical that readers be able to piece the hidden message together this early, though!)

As for the content of the premonitions themselves... these are probably our protagonists, I'm guessing, based on what I remember from TRcord discussion. Bellatrix in the first, definitely, and the others all sound familiar as well, though I can't recall their names off the top of my head. Ah, well, that's what reading the actual fic's for, right? Looking forward to meeting all the girls again! (And Altair? You're whumping Altair in that last line, aren't you. Sorry, disaster man.)

Even without that foreknowledge, I think the premonitions do a good job of making me curious about who these characters are and what their significance will be. The "Lightless" demon in particular sounds necrozma-y to me; seems like the Sun's Light might not've taken to being shattered all that well. (And I sure hope that once-a-vulpix isn't poor Nandina...)

Absol herself seems to be charging through several mystery dungeons, given how strange and shifty the layouts are. The description here is lovely, with a real sense of weight and timelessness to it as she moves through each ruin and dungeon. The premonitions themselves are also wonderfully ominous.

If I had to guess, I'd say that Absol is singing the lullaby for the Sun himself, or maybe the Lightless on an outside bet. Seems like the lullaby works as a companion to the hidden message, at least—a comforting slumber, lost in dreams, "whispering of [his] rise" while the Absol says that "even [he] must set". Then we get one last juicy lump of ominousness with that "Four days"; given everything going on in all those premonitions, sounds like those are going to be four extremely eventful days indeed.

Spoiler: Chapter 1

yoooooo it's ya giiiiirl

... she slipped on a pair of tattered flats that had walked twice as many steps then they could handle.

It'd be "than" rather than "then" there, if you're wanting to use it as a comparison, although technically I believe "twice as many steps as they could handle" is more accurate here. Overall that's a neat description that does a lot of work to tell us about Bellatrix's walks and her age, though!
In general this is a fantastic intro to Bellatrix. The narration is snappy and almost a little demanding and irritated in its own way, and her age—let me take a moment to mention how fun and refreshing it is to have an elderly protagonist, by the way, you really just never get that in adventure stories—is well-underscored by the actions themselves.

And then oops! We goin' swimmin'. Love how Bellatrix is bitter until the (apparent) end. Eager to see what the conversation of the entities who chose her actually means. Is there something about Bellatrix as an individual that makes her special (hard to imagine what, based on what we know of her! but there's bound to be plenty behind all that vinegar and spite...), or is there something else going on?

Love a big helpful aggron. Such good a good dinosaur :D Also enjoy getting to see how different pokémon would contribute to different functions and professions in a setting—a naclstack providing salts for an apothecary is a fun touch.

The realization that Bellatrix has become a zorua now is similarly full of character. Of course her primary focus when realizing her body isn't what it used to be is being annoyed about it, like how dare it, fine she'll humor it but this is stupid and she would like it to stop immediately thanks.
I suspect it'll be a while before we meet the owners of those voices who "saved" her, but in the meantime there's plenty of other new info to look forward to! The specifics of what the townsfolk believe about the "cursed" zorua, for one, and of course learning more about the town in general.

Spoiler: Chapter 2

Kinda had to lol at Bellatrix flatly answering the "what were you doing" with "Drowning." and Indeedee just blithely carrying on about "anything else?" Obviously Indeedee already knows she was recovered sopping wet and coughing up water, but I can only imagine how obnoxious it sounds to Bellatrix to have someone just push right past a traumatic (near-)death experience like that, heh. You can really feel how determined Bellatrix is to interpret Indeedee as condescending and irritated—which, yeah, she's definitely the latter, Bellatrix isn't an easy person to deal with even without this weird situation! But there's probably more genuine concern there than Bellatrix is willing to accept or admit, I'd bet. It's always fun to see the way angrier characters percieve everyone else around them. (See also "you can't stay in here forever, it'll help to get your bearings!" "is that a threat", haha.)

It's neat to see a gothorita here. I think I remember that, once upon a time, Bellatrix herself was supposed to be a gothita, before h-zorua/zoroark happened and turned out to be a better fit, right? They're cool pokémon, though, so it's nice to still get a chance to see them featured in the story in some capacity.

More bits and pieces of worldbuilding dropping in here and there, more new names and places... I'm as curious to get a look at that map as Bellatrix is, heh.

At least Bellatrix still has the sea to comfort her (up until she gets interrupted, at least). Looking forward to seeing the ways in which it crops up again in the future. What about it is so comforting? How does it tie into her relationship with others (particularly Altair, given that he was a sailor)?
And then a spooky sight to cap things off. Another mystery to add to the pile. I was wondering if that tug at Bellatrix's mind while drinking the medicine might've been Indeedee—a pretty decent ruse if she wanted to attempt to check Bellatrix's claims or something, distract her with the gross but helpful medicine so she won't notice some snooping around—but I guess it's possible this thing might be related as well... we'll see!

Spoiler: Chapter 3

Love how we open with a nightmare that has the sun as a symbol of relief after that lore drop at the beginning, heh. Just a remnant of Bellatrix coming from a world where the sun isn't an angry god, or something more? Trickery, or something truthful?
A powerful unknown ghost able to teleport, eh? Might just be that someone's been brought here directly by the Moon, hm hm. (Or a hoopa, or who knows what else given there are hybrids in this world!)

The results of the trace and memory search are intriguing; lots of questions there. Have other "demons" that appeared in the past also been former humans? We don't yet know if this world has a tradition of humans (heroes or otherwise) being summoned from elsewhere. Clearly at least some demons have done terrible things in the past, if Kirlia's this concerned about them. What does that mean, if Lunala really is the one who summoned Bellatrix, or at least had some influence over it?

(And meanwhile Bellatrix is mostly just mad at him for appearing to lead her on, even while she's still baffled. Ha.)

Either way, looks like we're gonna get to see more of the guild's inner workings soonish, and more than just the bounty hunting that Bellatrix eventually gets involved with. And it'll be interesting to see how that even happens, given that Kirlia was so frightened of her and expects the Guildmistress to be as well.

All in all, color me very intrigued! There are many hints of some pretty weighty things moving in the background, even though we don't yet know what roads we'll be taking to get there. The story's overall tone does a great job of setting up this grand sense of scale and fate, even though the actual events in the present time haven't quite hit that kind of scope yet. And I really love reading the prose throughout all of it. It's got that same sense of grandness and a flow to it without being too pretentious or meandering and is very beautiful in general. And of course I'm eager to get into the meat of all dat lore, heh.

Very beautifully done overall, and I'm so glad I got the chance to drop in and check this out! Thank you for sharing this, and I'll definitely be back again to see where this goes in the future.

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Good fic pls update

 

[Inkedust]

Chapter 4 – The Day She Left​

The most common variety of demon is the falseforme, monsters who take the visage of normal pokémon and would be indistinguishable if not for two key identifying traits. The first is the recognisable mark or “brand” that appears somewhere on the falseforme’s body, which has also garnered them the unofficial moniker of “branded” in several demon hunting circles. Though it acts as definitive proof as to whether or not someone is dealing with a falseforme, simply looking out for their mark is far from a reliable means of identification as these marks are easily covered. The second is to look directly into a falseforme’s eyes. While this method bears risk as staring in a demon’s eyes for too long will make you susceptible to their temptations; the sharp-eyed will quickly notice the lack of a Hidden Power identifying ring (called a culus) within the iris. This is due to the fact that all demons lack a Hidden Power as no soul resides within their hollow bodies.

Falseformes act as harbingers of disaster, bringing death and destruction in any place they appear. This combined with their ability to blend in with their imitations of pokémon and their supernatural charisma makes them extremely dangerous and immediate dispatchment upon discovery necessary. Having slain many of these demons, I have been able to closely study them allowing me to share my insights on how to most effectively handle them should misfortune ever cause you to encounter one.​

—The Book of Demons: Munna’s Introduction to Falseformes.​

​

Oncoming days blurred beneath a heavy cloud of boredom that sat upon Bellatrix’s mind. She had settled into a dull and monotonous routine: Watch the (frankly crude) town below, tolerate another one of Indeedee’s “check ups” and then watch the town some more. Every so often, Bellatrix would attempt to break away from this cycle by studying the map. Yet the unfamiliar landmasses and garbled mess of a language that stained the parchment left only an intense fit of frustration, followed by a lingering hollowness. The map laid in a crumpled heap on the opposite side of the room – its once smooth surface marred by tears and creases – as Bellatrix sulked.

Her mind itched. She needed to do something, but nothing would come to her. Nothing except that horrid little thought that nettled at the edge of her mind for the fiftieth or so time. She could always just… leave this room. It would be a decisive end to this incessant little act that Bellatrix found herself pidgeyholed into…

The memory of that shadowy creature haunted her mind’s eye. It lurked just around the corner, waiting for its opportunity to pounce. Its phantom breath caressed the ruff of fur at the back of Bellatrix’s neck, causing it to stand on end, gleefully reminding her that she no longer had hair. Paranoia sapped away at her energy, leaving her shaking if she so much attempted to stand (it had absolutely nothing to do with her refusal to practice her new form of locomotion). The only thing standing between her and that shadow was the imprisoning safety of this tiny room.

Bellatrix shunted the idea back into the dark corner that it had arisen from. No. She couldn’t think of such things. Not only was she certain that that thing was still on the prowl, but she had to hold on to her remaining scraps of dignity, it was the only thing she had left. Bellatrix was astutely aware that it made her look nothing short of insane, but it was expected when dealing with such simple creatures. Yet, despite how willing she was to deal with such concessions, Bellatrix could not help but despise Indeedee. The way she stared at her, treating her like some kind of caged animal put on display, whispering about finding more forms of intensive mental care beneath her breath. Bellatrix cursed herself for expecting more.

A knock on the door halted Bellatrix’s extended train of thought in its tracks.

She rested her muzzle atop her forepaws and glared at the source of the knocking, expecting the day to be as torturous as the last. She braced but she couldn’t stop the string of swears that marched off her tongue once she saw Indeedee and her insufferable fake cheer enter the room. Spirits, spare her.

“Good morning, Zorua,” greeted the psychic-type. “How are you today? A little better, I hope?”

Bellatrix flinched. Basic respect was clearly a gargantuan task for these pokémon given that they couldn’t even call her by her name. And when she tried correcting this egregious error, she was brushed off like a child throwing a tantrum after their toy got taken away. ‘Cultural differences,’ they excused, like it applied to her! She wasn’t one of them and the very idea of being considered as such made her recoil.

“The same,” Bellatrix replied, tone curt, wanting to get it over with.

Her reply was met with a titter, one that could only be taken as judgemental.

“And your memories?” Indeedee asked with just a little too much optimism in her voice.

Just what game was she playing— Bellatrix shook her head. At the ensuing sigh of disappointment, she rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure what Indeedee expected.

“Still?” A brief pause. “I see. That will make things harder, then,” the psychic muttered.

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed, her head tilting. “And what do you mean by that?”

Indeedee massaged her temples. “It’s about trying to find who sent you here,” she began with a weak chuckle.

Bellatrix’s frown deepened. It was no laughing matter.

Indeedee continued in what was her best attempt at a gentle tone, “We were hoping you would remember to help us learn who did this to you, but your circumstances are quite… special. We’re very sorry, but we can’t even figure out a species, if you can believe that.”

Bellatrix could.

“But on the bright side,” Indeedee added hastily, taking note of Bellatrix’s expression and cutting her off before she could enunciate the first syllable of her thought. “You’ve been getting better! Quicker than any of us expected.” She glanced at the zorua, grimacing at her dishevelled state. “I’m sure you’ll be good as new once you cheer yourself up a little. It’s not good to hole yourself up to sulk, you know,” she chided.

Was that supposed to be good news? Even if it was, she didn’t believe it in the slightest nor was it worth humouring. Instead, Bellatrix found herself focusing on what Indeedee had been saying just before those useless delusions. Disregarding the fact that these psychics had tried to poke through her head again and were still incapable of finding anything useful, Bellatrix was desperate; she was willing to accept the tiniest kernel of new information. Even if it was insultingly obvious to her from the outset, confirmation that this was not the work of an ordinary pokémon was a start.

But something else bothered her. Why tell her this now of all times? It wasn’t beyond them to wait until they had more information before saying anything.

“And?” Bellatrix asked. “It shouldn’t have taken this long to tell me if there was no caveat.”

Indeedee looked uncomfortable and wrung her hands, confirming Bellatrix’s suspicions. “A couple things,” she said after a pregnant pause. “First is that the local guild has taken an interest in you, which means that you’ll need to remain in town for the time being. While I’m sure that you’re worried about your family, and I’m sure they’re just as worried about you, we can’t get a better idea of your situation without you here.”

Indeedee turned to stare out the window, debating how to impart the next bit of information.

“Second,” she said after a while, “is that, without pay, you won’t be able to stay here at the apothecary anymore.”

Bellatrix couldn’t stop the shaking nor her claws from digging into the floorboards. She managed to convince herself that it was out of frustration and not fear. So now pokémon had a concept of money? And she had only become aware of this the moment it could be used against her? Of course. Why would it be any other way? It was just another link in the long chain of humiliation and misfortune that Bellatrix was binded by.

Oh, but it couldn’t be so bad, this ‘guild’ – no doubt the same one that Kirlia worked for – was interested in her, like she was some kind of specimen to be studied. It felt unreal, bordering on comical, and Bellatrix couldn’t decide if she wanted to laugh or scream.

Bellatrix steadied her breaths after convincing herself that she could find a way out of this. She didn’t want to leave, she couldn’t. “And go where?” she asked, voice level. “You just said I was a special case and needed me nearby. Would that not be grounds for an exception?”

Indeedee folded her arms yet she was unable to look Bellatrix in the eye. “We’re not a charity,” she said through pursed lips. “You’re not the only special case out there and we only have so many rooms here and all of them need to be reserved for patients. It’s only fair.”

Bellatrix opened her mouth to protest. “But—”

“I’m sure you’ll be able to manage,” Indeedee interrupted before her gaze softened ever-so-slightly. “I know that this is scary and confusing for you but I’m sure you’ll be grateful once you grow up and understand where we’re coming from.”

Bellatrix stood up and stormed towards the door, all her prior worries tossed aside. She just wanted to get out so she could get away from Indeedee.

“And where are you going now?” asked Indeedee, caught off-guard by this.

“Oh? I thought you wanted me to leave,” snapped Bellatrix. “I need some fresh air. Alone,” she added with a hiss before Indeedee could get any ideas about tagging along. “But I suppose that I will be at that hill if you really want to know.”

Indeedee opened her mouth, ready to say something, but looked away with an exasperated huff. There was nothing she could say to change Bellatrix’s mind. “Just… Be sure to be back before moonrise. As I said, we need to keep you close by so we’ve found someone – the aggron who brought you in – to look after you for the time being. He’ll be coming this evening.”

“Why can’t he pay then?” Bellatrix asked, her voice shrill with bafflement.

A flash of guilt. “After I called on the guild to help with your treatment, I promised that he wouldn’t have to,” Indeedee answered flatly. “He doesn’t have much poké left after the recent situation with the mines.”

“Compared to me, of course,” bit back Bellatrix with bitter sarcasm. Then, refusing to humour this conversation any further, Bellatrix stepped through the door without sparing Indeedee a glance.
​

​

Bellatrix shoved past the apothecary’s front door, pointedly ignoring the simultaneous looks of pity and disdain that came her way. She was someone to respect and she would never give any authority to anyone who dared to treat her like a child. With her head raised high, Bellatrix walked out onto the shabby path that this sham of a town considered to be its main street.

So she walked, and walked, and walked. Then, it began to dawn on her that she had very little idea where she was going.

This angered Bellatrix further. Who in their right mind would design a town like this? Even if Bellatrix hadn’t bothered to memorise the route, how hard was it to design something easily navigable? As she attempted to find and recall the narrow sidepath from the other day, Bellatrix found herself standing at the edge of a bustling market that had sprawled itself out across a large square and many alleys.

The cacophony of countless conversations overlapping filled the air. Pokémon of all shapes and sizes gathered around colourful wool mats, wooden stalls and canvas sails as shopkeepers counted copper coins and argued with the crowd in an effort to protect their wares. All sorts of miscellaneous items were proudly displayed; gaudy scarves, sparkling jewellery and precious stones, berries, seeds and several types of baubles – the use of which Bellatrix could not imagine for the life of her. As coin was traded and bartered, Bellatrix managed to catch a brief glimpse of a few pokémon that wore odd badges that glistened in the sunlight. Occasionally, they would step in to break up fights before they had the chance to start.

Through a combination of being almost overwhelmed by the density of the crowds and lack of interest, Bellatrix was left standing at the edge of the square. She ducked below and sidestepped any pokémon who came her way. One such manoeuvre left her near enough to get a glimpse of a stall that housed many shelves and drawers. A closer look revealed that they were all filled to the brim with a wide array of orbs; their many colours swirling into distinctive patterns beneath the shine of the late morning light (though a fair few sat dull and tarnished). Their shapes were just as varied, some were perfectly rounded, others more oblong, while the rest were irregular, with points jutting out in different directions.

Without meaning, Bellatrix’s sensitive ears began to pick up on the words that were being exchanged between shopkeeper and customer. Before she knew it, Bellatrix was listening in on the entire conversation.

“Come on now! You’re trying to tell me that you don’t even have one in storage?” grumbled the prospective gliscor .

“What could have clued you into that? Sure can’t be the ‘out of stock’ sign,” the shopkeeper, a golem, jeered. “Look, I’m always outta escape orbs by noon. They sell like rockcakes these days, if you want some, you best be coming here as soon as I restock. But I have plenty of other essentials in the meantime.”

Bellatrix watched the shopkeeper’s dull claw hover over a bright green orb, gold flecks swimming to form a thin ring just beneath the glassy surface.

“Gotta small discount on health orbs today, and –” he moved to open a nearby drawer “– if you choose to pair that with something like a silence or petrify orb, you’ll be unstoppable in any Mystery Dungeon. Or, you could pick out…”

Golem continued to list names for each orb, their use and effect lost on Bellatrix. Part of her wondered if this was all some kind of elaborate scam given that it all sounded ridiculous to her. Next they’d be trying to sell ‘magic wands’ and ‘enchanted scarves’.

“Alright, alright,” conceded the gliscor. “I’ll take the deal and try to find some escape orbs in another town. Say, got any weather changing orbs? I’ll be travelling west with my partner since we have a fair few errands near the desert region and she isn’t too good with sandstorms.”

“Few rainy orbs should do the trick. They’ll keep you cool in that heat and will give you an advantage over the local wildlings.”

“How much for four?”

“A gold and two silvers. Adding the health and petrify orbs on top of that will bring the price up to three golds.”

“Two golds, six silvers.”

“Make it seven silvers and we got a deal,” Golem said, pushing forward four blue teardrop-shaped orbs. His gaze flicked to where Bellatrix was standing, a pensive frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, but the zorua was quick to dive out of the way and into the rolling crowd.

Within seconds, Bellatrix regretted this choice. Elbows pushed and tails jostled her in all directions through a sea of pokémon, her presence ignored until a rhydon all but trampled her in their haste. She gave her a wide-eyed stare, then averted her gaze with a curse as they pressed past her. Bellatrix responded in kind with a harsh glare. Mannerless curs, she thought, ready to give the rhydon a piece of her mind. But then, through the gap the rhydon left in the crowd, she saw a rough-hewn stairway, no doubt leading to some vantage point.

She glimpsed the bustling square she’d left behind during her ascent and was left puzzled. A large but crude cyclopean statue covered in hex nuts (for whatever reason?) stood proud above the crowds. The misshapen metal that formed its body glimmered in the sunlight and distorted the reflections that formed upon its surface. It was hideous. Bellatrix’s puzzlement turned to contempt the moment she realised that this pitiful attempt at craftsmanship was yet more evidence of the vulgar mockery towards civilisation that marred this place. Pointing her nose up with a scoff Bellatrix continued up the staircase, not stopping until she reached the top.

At the zenith of the staircase, a sprawl of narrow pathways woven between the gaps left by tightly packed buildings greeted Bellatrix. The stuffy air was quiet, filled with only the distant ambiance of the marketplace. Not wanting to go back the way she came, Bellatrix picked a path to follow and hoped that it would lead her somewhere. She paid no heed to her surroundings, save for any deadends.

The street went on and on. The tolerable warmth of the summer morning shifted into a stifling heat. Before Bellatrix knew it, she was panting and her pace had slowed to a crawl. Regret at her shortsighted decision to leave the apothecary began to overwhelm her thoughts, so much so that Bellatrix failed to register the rumble of approaching footsteps until it was too late.

“Now what do we have here?” asked a nasally voice.

“A lost pup, methinks,” replied a second, more raspy, voice

Bellatrix whipped around, her fur standing on end and her lips pulling back into a snarl. She was greeted by the sight of a diggersby and thievul looking down at her with an unsettling glint in their eyes.

The diggersby clapped and rubbed the ends of his ears together. “Ahhh…” he hummed after a brief appraisal. “So this is that ‘curse’ the town’s been talking about these days? This lil’ thing!?”

Thievul stepped back, his demeanour switching the moment he heard the word ‘curse’. “Maybe we should leave it then,” he muttered beneath his breath. “Never seen a curse in the flesh before, but I know better than to bring the Stranger to my doorstep.”

This grand display of intellect morphed Bellatrix’s fear into indignation. She glared at the two. “You should,” she snapped. While she had no clue as to what they were talking about, she would be remiss to not take advantage of their backwards superstitions. “Or I will make you regret it.”

Diggersby responded with a hearty guffaw, though it was more like a malformed combination between a bark and a cough. “Will you now? What would your parents say about their pup showing bad manners?” He glanced at apprehensive Thievul, annoyed by his superstitions, and smacked him hard on the back.

“Don’t give me that,” Diggersby hissed, “it’s not like we’re keeping her. I just wanna appreciate those markings of hers, gives her quite the exotic look others would enjoy, wouldn’t you say?”

Thievul winced but nodded with reluctant vigour after a moment. “Oh— Right, right!” Bellatrix watched the gears turn in his head; his enthusiasm and cruel grin returned the more he thought. “Been a long time since I’ve held a bag full of good coin,” he added with a whisper.

Diggersby’s ear flicked. “And,” he continued, “I’d bet good poké that the dupes in this town won’t be missing her. In fact, they’ll be thanking us for helping them out. I could—”

Bellatrix was disgusted. An intrusive part of her mind told her to fight but she knew that such an endeavour would end badly for her. So, she took it upon herself to turn tail and run, pushing through her fatigue, as the pair of lowlifes were distracted by their vague plans. Diggersby didn’t look very fast while Thievul seemed hesitant enough to buy her more time. She had already turned the corner when she heard their outraged cries.

“You IMBECILE!” shouted Diggersby. “She’s getting away!”

“Then go after her!” Thievul snapped back. “I’m not the one who wants to mess with curses!”

“It’s just a damn zorua, you—” Diggersby cut himself off with a growl. “I don’t have time for this! If you don’t have the stomach, then go to that market and make a damn fuss so the little bitch doesn’t run too far. Tell ‘em anything! Maybe those lousy guildies will buy something about a theft, I don’t know! But they’re bound to do a better job than you ever could.”

Bellatrix’s heart leapt out of her chest at the crack of Diggersby’s knuckles, followed by his heavy footfalls. She had no idea where she was going, she’d just have to make random turns and hope that Diggersby would take the wrong ones. No point in blending into any crowd, she was the talk of the town. Apparently. Of course she was. Nothing could work in her favour, could it? Where could she run? What would she do once she got away? Was this her life now? Constant running, even in her dreams?

Her strides felt heavy beneath the constant barrage of questions.

Perhaps she would be given the chance to explain herself? Bellatrix snorted at the thought. Hope was threatening her again. Like she expected anyone in this backwater to be reasonable.

The next thing that occupied Bellatrix’s mind was a wooden surface and a jolt of pain in her nose. It seemed that, while she was busy distracted by her thoughts, Bellatrix had slammed face-first into a stack of crates.

There was no time to reel from the impact as the deafening sound of wood and stone pavement crashing together left Bellatrix cold. She had just given up her position and, with no visible turns ahead, it would be easy to cut off and ambush her. Running back the way she came was even less of an option. That meant that the only feasible direction she could continue in was…

Wary, Bellatrix eyed the crates and the closest roof.

Up.

Shouts in the distance gave Bellatrix no time to think. She clambered onto the crates, her claws catching on the rough wood grain. Soon, her panicked scrambles had begun to dislodge the shingles and straw that comprised the roof that rested below her paws. It took a moment for her to realise but once she did Bellatrix took a deep breath, reorienting herself from this brief lapse of hysteria.

She looked down and frowned. Not high enough. She would need to go further for a better vantage point and hiding spot from below.

When an adequate enough spot was found, Bellatrix looked back towards the marketplace. Just as she feared, the impenetrable sea of pokémon had filtered and spread out across the town; no doubt looking for her. Bellatrix grumbled. She couldn’t stay up on the roof all day.

Just then, a breeze jostled Bellatrix’s mane into her face. Naturally, she was irritated by this. She wanted respite from the running and the heat, not another annoyance. But then, she found herself coming to a realisation: she was a zorua now. She hated to acknowledge that fact, but zorua were capable of disguising themselves with illusions, were they not?

Bellatrix clenched her jaw. Even if it was for the sake of her survival, to lower herself into becoming reliant on an inhuman trait repulsed her. A part of her screamed to forget about it and push onward. Whatever that diggersby had in mind for her wouldn’t be any worse than this, right?

She couldn’t decide.

Instinct clawed and grappled with her. She mustn’t. She was better than this. There were other ways to survive, other ways to escape. She just needed to—

Something within, worn down by either the heat or exhaustion from running, relented. She needed to do this, even if she would lie awake at night and loathe herself for it. Assuming she would make it to “tonight”, of course.

Bellatrix dug her claws into the roof and focused. Hide. She just needed to be invisible.

Her fur rippled with an ominous, spine chilling power that Bellatrix immediately clung onto – weak as it was. If she could just draw it out for longer, then she wouldn’t have to care about this crippling blow to her dignity for now. She shuddered in both elation and relief at the sensation that she had done it but such the feeling was brief as her grip on the odd power abruptly loosened, leaving her panting with fatigue.

Nothing happened.

The world grew hazy and Bellatrix heaved with the overpowering need to laugh, cry and scream at the same time. She did not care about the approaching voices of the townsfolk, as far as she was aware, they were lightyears away – white noise – in the face of Bellatrix’s own judgement.

Pathetic. She was pathetic. She had given up her own humanity so easily and for what? Making herself easier to catch?

Numb to the world around her and unaware of her own actions, Bellatrix began to crawl across the roofs of the town, making her way to what she perceived to be the town’s outskirts.

Several minutes passed. Packed buildings dispersed into a tall field of grass, forcing Bellatrix to return to the ground. The sight of the hill she had spent all this time searching for snapped her out of her trance.

Ears alert, Bellatrix pushed through the grass, grateful for the cover it provided. Once she arrived at the base of the hill, she glanced back – double checking her peripheries – and subconsciously relaxed when she noticed that the shadow was absent. Even though it hadn’t appeared again since that nightmare, it was good to make sure. Despite needing to leave the cover of grass, Bellatrix climbed up the hill to take in the sights. The view was comforting, the one piece of normalcy she could cling to in this terrible, backwards world. For just a few minutes, Bellatrix could let all her worries slip away.

In the midst of her newfound peace and quiet, Bellatrix allowed herself to consider her next course of action. For the time being, she was stuck in this place as a zorua with no clear way back home and right now, a pair of shady pokémon with less-than-savoury plans had managed to convince all the local ingrates that she was a thief. She could face them if she so desired; talking down a group of simple-minded pokémon, even a large one, was not a very intimidating prospect.

The problem was that Bellatrix didn’t desire to do so at all.

It was more headache than it was worth for a multitude of reasons, the most pertinent being that she had garnered some kind of negative reputation for being a ‘curse’. That alone was enough to convince Bellatrix that it would be far easier to wait for it to blow over. Besides, why would she want to waste time with a mob who couldn’t recognise a shady individual to save their lives?

But then what? Go through whatever plans Indeedee had in store for her and wander through life as a pokémon? She shuddered at the thought but she had already shown her capacity for weakness, hadn’t she? Why not go all the way? Why shouldn’t she pretend that she was never human to begin with and take her treatment as both a child and pariah with a smile?

Frustrated, Bellatrix growled. No. She couldn’t think like that. She just needed to ensure that nothing like this would ever happen again, that’s all. Even if she had little idea on how to make her way around on her own when she couldn’t even read, she knew that she would somehow find a way.

She had to.

Oncoming voices cut any further planning and reflection short. Bellatrix gasped when she saw a group of ten or so pokémon approach the very hill she stood upon.

“By the Moon, why can’t we keep searchin’ in the town?” complained one.

“‘Cause everyone else is already there ya nitwit!” snapped another. “Ever heard of bein’ preemptive?”

“What he means is that, with everyone lookin’, the only way the little thief has to go is out,” clarified a third.

“Hear, hear.”

Bellatrix pinned herself to the ground in an attempt to crawl back to the cover of grass. Was five minutes to herself too much to ask? Something nudged at her to call upon her illusionary abilities again which she staunchly refused. Never again. She was exhausted enough as is, she wouldn’t—

A humiliating yip! escaped Bellatrix’s throat as something grabbed her by the nape of her neck. She tried in vain to wriggle free from the pokémon’s – a coalossal – iron grip.

“Got ‘er!” he called. “Looks like someone was tryna be sneaky.”

“Great work! We should call for the Guild now, aye?”

“Won’t be necessary,” said Diggersby’s voice, which filled Bellatrix with spiteful anger. “It was my stuff she took.”

Coalossal rumbled, growing unsure. “Do correct me, but looking at ‘er more, this ragged lil thing doesn’t look all that capable of stealing from anyone and getting away with it. I don’t see any satchel either.”

“I am not a ‘ragged lil thing’,” Bellatrix snapped, glaring daggers at him and anyone else nearby. “And I am not a thief either, but I suppose refraining from jumping on any accusation you hear is too much for you imbeciles. Now, if you would be so kind as to put me down.”

“Feisty one, ain’t she?” interjected Diggersby. “Too bad that you all know that zorua and zoroark are deceitful little louses, especially the cursed ones. Every word outta that yap is probably a lie. I think she buried that satchel somewhere around here so she could play innocent once she got caught.”

“Do I look as if I had been spending all this time digging up dirt?” countered Bellatrix, stunned.

“Hidden in the grass then!” retorted Diggersby. “Tryna get clever with me, huh?”

“Yet here you are, failing to keep a consistent narrative,” sneered Bellatrix, baring her fangs. “If I was truly guilty, then why not call this ‘guild’ unless you are afraid of being caught yourself, hm?”

The gathering of pokémon began to look conflicted as Bellatrix and Diggersby argued.

Seeing this, Diggersby’s expression contorted with unfiltered rage. “See?! See?!” he bellowed, pointing an accusing finger at Bellatrix. “Can’t ya see what the little curse is doing?” He spat out the words and allowed them to linger, knowing how they would instil fear. “She’s filling ya with doubts to worm her way into your hearts so she can control and manipulate you!”

At this, the crowd’s expressions grew grave as they began to mutter amongst each other. Bellatrix looked on in horror. They were proving themselves to be far denser than she thought when she needed them to have a modicum of common sense now.

Bellatrix looked at Diggersby with hatred. “You— You dodged the—”

“Shut it! I ain’t hearin’ no more of your lies,” growled Diggersby. He turned to address the crowd “As for you lot! Get lookin’ for my stolen goods, you’ll know ‘em when you see it!”

More murmurings followed then, an agreement. It seemed that they cared more about getting away from the argument than who was and wasn’t lying.

Bellatrix was unceremoniously dropped before Diggersby who wasted no time grabbing her with one of his ears before she had the chance to react.

“Well, did you have fun with this little game?” hissed with venom, eyes wide. “I humoured you this time because of the small fortune you’re worth, but try this again and, well… Let’s just say I won’t be afraid of damaging my wares as long as I still make a profit at the end of the day.”

Bellatrix felt Diggersby’s grip tighten as he began lumbering away from both the hill and the town. By the time the other pokémon realised they were tricked, the pair would have been long gone.

Yet Bellatrix refused to remain still, biting and clawing at Diggersby. His grip remained unrelenting. It was only when the very last of her energy had been sapped when she stopped.

In a final show of defiance, Bellatrix spat at him. “You spineless bastard. Is this all you do in your spare time?”

She received a cruel laugh in reply. “I’m sure you’ll learn your place because you wanna know something?”

Diggersby lifted Bellatrix to look her in the eye.

“That’s just how the world works, girl. Don’t go blaming me for knowing my way around it.”
​

Its body had been broken, contorted, and rearranged beyond recognition.​

 

[Ambyssin]

which has also garnered them the unofficial moniker of “branded” in several demon hunting circles

Now I'm just imagining all these demons look like Clive Rosfield. Thanks, FFXVI.

the lack of a Hidden Power identifying ring (called a culus) within the iris. This is due to the fact that all demons lack a Hidden Power as no soul resides within their hollow bodies

Interesting way of going about Hidden Power. I do wonder if this was something you had planned for a while, back before Hidden Power got Thanos'd out of everyone's move sets and made exclusive to unown.

but she had to hold on to her remaining scraps of dignity, it was the only thing she had left

Oh, sweetie. Honey. You're a tiny fox pup. You have no scraps of dignity. 🎉

It was just another link in the long chain of humiliation and misfortune that Bellatrix was binded by

Bellatrix's Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Week™. But also, it's not like the human equivalents of apothecaries are that much better.

I’m sure you’ll be grateful once you grow up and understand where we’re coming from

As an adult, I am not grateful. Jobs suck. Even the ones you like you'll find have things about them you do not like sooner or later. Money making the world go round is unfortunate.

Next they’d be trying to sell ‘magic wands’ and ‘enchanted scarves’.

I got bad news for ya, lady...

A large but crude cyclopean statue covered in hex nuts (for whatever reason?) stood proud above the crowds.

This is... Melmetal, I think? Or some amalgamation of meltan? Hard to tell just off the description.

“Oh— Right, right!” Bellatrix

This makes it seem like Bellatrix is talking, not the goon.

Looks like Bellatrix has left her arrival point only for things to get completely worse. Though I thing the fic was pretty much teeing things up from the get go to be a very unfun time for grumpy fox. It is interesting how there's less about Bellatrix not using any zorua powers because she can't — which is totally possible if she's plopped in as being equivalent to a barely hatched ghost fox — but more about "Oh the indignity of it all! How could I, a human, think of such things?" Maybe as a human she held somewhat of a resentment toward pokémon? That might've been shown pre-isekai, but I can't quite remember. Regardless, don't think it's something a lot of PMD fics tend to do. Yeah, maybe the humans don't like their tiny magical creature bodies but none of them seem to believe trying to do pokémon stuff leaves them lesser. My guess is this a thread you intend to follow up on as things progress. Otherwise, you wouldn't bring it up like this.

Though it's hard to predict where things are going other than it seems pretty clear Bellatrix is going to get trafficked somewhere. For some purpose. I'm not sure what. Particularly since everyone seems to think she's a child. Wonder if that means evolution is just... something that happens to pokémon that are old enough in this setting. Or if there's something to her appearance that gives off vibes of being a kit.

 

[unrepentantAuthor]

Hi, Inke! Making good on my promise to leave you an actual review. ❤️

I'll begin by saying that it's clear you're doing a hell of a lot to evoke a particular ~fantasy vibe~ and I think you're doing pretty damn well at it! There are plenty of little effortful details such as those unown-esque 'breaks', the in-universe nonfiction excerpts that head up each chapter, the inclusion of a playlist of quite lovely fantasy music (I love to see an appreciator of Endless Legend's OST!) (maybe make an actual YT playlist?), and the use of the 'lullaby' prologue to frame the cosmology/mythos of the setting. Nice touch with that one – it's a neat approach and I'll return to it in more detail later.

In any case, the fantasy mood I'm getting from this in spades is one that's at once grounded and quite beautiful. Intricacy, elegance, and a certain ethereality are all hallmarks of the 'Inke-core' and it's coming across to a decent extent at this early stage. It's still very early, of course – I'm looking forward to seeing more of this world – but I'd compare what I've seen so far to classical D&D settings such as Faerûn, or media like The Witcher and Lord of the Rings to various extents. The prologue even prompted me to think of Galadriel's soliloquy at the opening of the movie trilogy, though they're not quite the same thing. That's the vibe I get, anyway!

I'll look at the individual chapters in a bit, but in general terms, let's start with the prose, the dialogue, and the protagonist~ I believe I've expressed this plenty on VC, but perhaps having it written up will prove helpful!

As I've told you before, your writing is solid – I'll give you more 'close reading' feedback in future beta readings, but I don't recommend agonising over prose when the 'make more clay pots' method is probably the single best improvement tool you have available to you at this point. There are no particular shortcomings in your style, rather, I think you could afford more restraint in descriptive narration on occasion. It's never really 'purple' per se, but there's this feature here and there of expressing the same thing a couple different ways, or using several good words when one would do. I recognise that precisely because it's a historical feature of my own writing, so you're in good company there. ;3

As for dialogue, the advice I gave you in my beta-reading was to give secondary characters' speech more depth by incorporating more ambiguity. I only really noticed a need for that with the now-amended dialogue from the kidnappers in Ch04, but it was noticeable nonetheless that Bellatrix' dialogue was more interesting and characterful than other characters', which could just be because she's the protagonist to begin with, but I believe may be because you already include her internal narration. Perhaps it's just that said narration gets you thinking more about her dialogue, or because you can trust the reader to understand her interiority, but I'd like to see that quality of naturalistic dialogue uniformly across the cast and I think you're already fully capable of that!

Back to the protagonist, Bellatrix is an excellent subject for a fic like this. She's a lot of things – she's an unusual hero in that she's not even antiheroic so much as genuinely quite wretched and misanthropic, she's an ageing Scrooge and a grandmother when summoned rather than a youth, and she's a sopping wet bundle of resentment as the fic opens. I'm not even convinced she'll get better rather than worse in the near term! And the thing about all that is that because you're presenting her authentically (and not twisting the reader's arm to approve of her edgy bitchy bullshit, or pity her, or necessarily gloat over her misery) she has the space in the fic to simply be interesting. I am fascinated to learn why she was selected (assuming she was chosen deliberately) and what kind of development she'll undergo. It's oddly refreshing to have a somewhat horrible protagonist who's allowed to be plainly unpleasant in an undramatic sort of way, and I like that she comes across as childish in her neotenous new zorua form precisely because she's such a whiner and complainer. I think you're doing a great job of having a minimally sympathetic protagonist who nevertheless doesn't turn the reader off – speaking for myself, I really enjoy her!


there's nothing in nature that freezes your heart like years of being alone 🎶~


I also have some brief notes on specific chapters and what stands out from my memory:

Where It All Began might not be the most dramatic opener possible, but near-drowning your protagonist after showing her salty and spiteful at the twilight of her miserable life is pretty fucking great, actually. I'm used to young protags being pissy and overwhelmed, so it's great to see the hateful granny become a sopping wet fox bitch and be so utterly miserable because of dysphoria and humiliation. Especially since this could potentially be a fantastic new start for her – it's not like she's lost anything she values except face.

Across the Fiord features some neat worldbuilding details (love to see fantasy elements treated as mundane local reality), and develops Indeedee somewhat, but the real standout is whatever that fucking thing is at the end that spooks Bellatrix so bad. My current theory based on meta-knowledge and that brief description is that it's Evil Beta Arceus. Pretty neat moment, very 'Wringwraiths in the Shire'.

An Echo of a Ghost feels like a continuation of the established situation for the most part, but my favourite moment from it is for sure the gutpunch when Kirlia promises a successful read, only to be horrified at 'what' Bellatrix might be. It's an unnerving moment for sure. Adds some stakes to Bellatrix's existence in this society, if she's going to be found scary and abhorrent. A 'demon', even?

The Day She Left got plenty of feedback in the beta, but still: it's a pretty delicious move to have Bellatrix just straight up abducted, successfully, even after a couple escape attempts that looked as if they might succeed. It's great when a character really tries to solve a challenge and fails anyway for entirely plausible reasons. And of course, the stakes are implicitly pretty fucking grim!

I also took the opportunity to return to the Prelude and give it another reading. I'd already identified that this mythology concerned the Light Trio, and I'm increasingly certain that the 'union' was Dawn Wings, of course. I fully believe that this is a very inaccurate retelling of the true history, of course, would not be surprised to learn that Dawn Wings was not, in fact, the heroic underdog in the scenario...

Some details I missed previously: That's a neat mythic justification for shiny Solgaleo! Pretty sure the 'Ancients' are humans and that this is a 'post-apoc PMD' scenario. No idea what the 'three four disciples' are, but it put me in mind of the musketeer quartet, and of the seasonal forces of nature quartet. The ice-ninetales origin lore is delightful. Solgaleo is trapped in the Voidlands, I'm guessing, but I'm not 100% certain. And of course, the 'six warriors' must be summons, and somehow include Bellatrix either as a successor or because they're not actually each other's contemporaries and the lullaby is prophetic. Perhaps. Big thinking going on here.

I also took another look at the Prologue (I can't believe you have a Prelude AND a Prologue, Inke, oh my god) and it's really just vibes given the lack of context for it, but it's very Neat and I love the effortful fantasy detial of including an actual song. I now kinda want that to exist as a piece of real media somehow, ahaha. And I'm now wondering if the 'silver' Absol touches is actually Solgaleo's prison? 'Liquid silver' is the precise wording in both cases, so... surely, yes? Fascinating... As is the ruined city where 'it all began'. Vibes vibes vibes.

Very excited to see you press on hard with this, I want it to get to/return to the goddamn absol character already. Good fic; pls update. <3