DeliriousAbsol
*Crazy Absol Noises*
I forgot to quote! Argh! Thanks for the review, Navarchu =D I appreciate it! If you don't have time to read, that's fine. I'm just glad you're enjoying what you've read! Although I'm stoked you want to continue!
22 - The Endless Woods
Dedenne were used to navigating long grass, scurrying through it and scrambling over the slender blades like an acrobat. Spark swung from one blade to another, climbing to the tip where it bent under her weight. She secured herself with her tail as she took a moment to peer ahead of her across the grassy plain. She caught a glimpse of a fluffy, cream head searching the area before she vanished back amid the grass, invisible to any prying eyes.
“Mischief sighted,” she muttered to herself as she took off in his direction.
She could hear the crunch of his feet over the grass, growing louder as he approached the hidden dedenne. She let out a few stray sparks to draw his eye and scrambled up onto a tall, wiry plant dotted with yellow flowers.
“Oi!” she called.
Mischief beamed down at her and she landed by his feet. “Spark! Where’s Cleo?”
“She went off somewhere with Harlequin,” Spark explained, dodging the details.
Mischief nodded and glanced back towards the trees. Spark’s nose crinkled and she inclined her head on one side as she scrutinised the whimsicott. He twitched a couple of times before turning back to her.
“Is something wrong?” Spark asked. “You look funny.”
“Me?” Mischief pointed a claw at his face and shifted uneasily. “No, I…” He crouched down so he was on her level and lowered his voice to a near-whisper. “I’ve been told something.”
“Oh?” Spark’s whiskers twitched. “Is it bad? Does it concern me?” She paused and her large eyes widened. “Does it concern food?”
“Yes, no and no.”
Mischief glanced back over his shoulder, then stooped to pick up Spark. He popped her down amid his thick, creamy fur and she vanished amid it. She immediately poked her head back out, spitting out tufts of cotton.
“There,” he said quietly. “I can whisper now.”
“You should warn a girl before you pick her up, you know,” Spark scoffed.
Mischief blanched slightly. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. So what’s this bad news?”
Mischief fidgeted his paws together and looked back towards the trees.
Spark kicked him in the shoulder. “Suspicious movements.”
“Sorry,” he apologised again. “Don’t we need to find Cleo?”
“Yeah, we agreed to meet along the tree-line somewhere. We should follow it.” Spark rose to her full height and pointed a claw. “Go that way.”
Mischief nodded and plodded along. His light gait was much more bouncy than Cleo’s, and Spark had to clutch onto his fur to avoid tumbling off into the grass.
“Mischief,” she said slowly. “The news?”
“Oh, yes, right.” He scratched behind his horn and his eyes grew distant. “I, erm… I was told not to tell anyone, but…”
He trailed off, and Spark’s cheeks spluttered electricity, setting his downy fur on end.
“Then why bring it up?” Spark quipped. “You know I have no patience. Urgh, now I’m going to be wondering what it is!”
Mischief closed his eyes. “I was told not to tell anyone, but I think I have to. That’s why I brought it up. It’s bad, Spark.”
“Then tell me.”
He sighed and scratched his horn again. “I ran into someone. They said they want to kill Harlequin.”
Spark’s jaw went slack and she stared at the whimsicott, dumbfounded. As the information sank in, she gave a nod and turned to scout where they were going.
“Well it makes sense,” she said. “I mean, she’s an assassin. She’s probably got a lot of enemies.” She paused and turned back to Mischief. “Who was it?”
Mischief gave a weak shrug. “He says he’s an absol. I didn’t get his name.”
“An absol, huh? That’s a little hard to believe.” Spark rubbed her chin in thought. “They were all wiped out, as far as I know.”
“I couldn’t tell you for certain,” said Mischief. “I don’t even know what an absol is. I’ve never met one before.”
“Neither have a lot of pokemon. Like I said. Wiped out.” Spark raised her paws in a shrug. “They used to live in the Shadow Lands, but they weren’t well received anywhere. Hydreigon had them eliminated like… over a decade ago. No one’s seen one since.”
“He was white,” said Mischief. “Dark face, huge scythe-like horn on his head.”
Spark suddenly felt cold and she huddled down in Mischief’s fur. “That sounds like an absol, all right. Oh man… this is huge.”
“Do we tell him?”
Spark inclined her head on one side. “Tell who?”
“Harlequin,” Mischief said in a harsh whisper. “Do we tell him someone wants to kill him?”
“We tell her nothing,” said Spark. “She probably won’t handle it well.”
“Oh, I’m confused!” Mischief dragged his paws down his face. “We need to do something. If someone wants to kill Harlequin, then where does that leave us?”
“We don’t need to do anything. It doesn’t concern us.”
“I don’t want anyone to die, Spark!”
His voice sliced through the air, and Spark looked up on impulse, ears pricked, searching the sky for any sign of movement. As the silence rolled back in, she calmed and settled back in Mischief’s fur. He’d stopped walking, his eyes wide and panicked as he stared down at his paws. Staring at them as though they’d committed a violent crime.
It wasn’t a false accusation, either. Although it was one he clearly hated.
Spark crinkled her tiny nose in thought. This whole thing about the absol… it went beyond Mischief merely wanting to warn Harlequin. If there was some way he could save a life, then maybe it would atone for the one he’d taken?
Spark let out a small sigh. “This isn’t just about the absol, is it?”
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and began moving again, more slowly. “What do you mean?”
“You’re worried about those outbursts.”
“Well, I…” He ran a paw over his head. “I know I had another one. That absol, he said he saved you from me. He lured me away, but it wasn’t just to save you. It was because he didn’t want me to kill Harlequin, because he wants to do it.”
Spark snorted and folded her arms. “Then I guess I won’t be giving him a ‘thank you cake’.”
Mischief closed his eyes briefly and looked away from her. Spark’s heart sank slightly and she silently scolded herself for her bad choice of words.
“Listen,” she said. “Have you noticed how you only lose control when you fight?”
“So you’re saying I shouldn’t fight?”
“Not at all.” Spark shook her head. “You’ve used attacks without losing your mind, right? I think you just need to look for the signs. Maybe, if you stop before it kicks in, then you can get it under control.”
“There are no signs,” he said. “It just happens.”
“What? You don’t feel anything at all?” Spark asked. “No light-headedness? No ‘snap’?”
He shook his head sadly. “No. I don’t feel anything at all. I don’t even have any memory that it happened, it just does.”
Spark thought on that for a moment. So there were no signs. No indication he was going to lose control. If that was the case, then maybe they couldn’t help him? Not yet, anyway. She wasn’t going to throw away any hope so easily.
“Maybe we can find a cure?” she suggested.
“There might be a cure?” Mischief perked at that, his orange eyes sparkling. “We can fix me?”
Spark bit her lip and looked down at the grass. “Well… as far as I know, no one has ever bothered finding a cure for pokerus. It was always a beneficial parasite. Pokemon would travel miles just to obtain it. Years ago, long before my time, there were champion fighters across Estellis who used it to boost their skills, but it behaved very differently.”
The sparkle left Mischief’s eyes and his expression turned sombre.
“Hey, but don’t lose hope!” Spark placed a paw on the side of his head. “If it’s mutated like this, then someone might look for a cure. Who knows? We might be those pokemon to find it! They could even name it after you.”
He gave her a weak smile. “I’m not sure anyone would want to take a medicine named Mischief.”
“How about ‘Fluffy Nuisance’?”
His shoulders shook as he chuckled. “We can put a pin in that for now.”
The grass parted, bringing the two to a freeze. Spark stood on all fours, adopting a defencive posture. But when she spotted the meowstic emerge from the grass, tailed by Harlequin, she visibly relaxed and a huge smile spread across her muzzle.
“Cleo!”
Cleo shook her head as she stopped before the duo. “You two are much too loud. I could hear you way back there.” She nodded back the way she’d come.
Spark gave a toothy grin. “Maybe it was my plan this whole time to draw you to us.”
“You could have drawn something much worse.” Cleo folded her arms, but a smile still played at her muzzle. “Nice to see you’re okay, Mischief.”
The whimsicott’s eyes trailed over Cleo, noting the wounds that still marred her body, and his smile fell. “I didn’t… hurt you?”
Cleo waved a paw. “This was all Enigma. Don’t worry.”
Harlequin turned their face away and huffed.
“Besides,” Cleo went on, “I’m already feeling a lot better.”
Spark looked between the two before settling on Cleo. “I take it you didn’t find him?”
Cleo shook her head. “There were signs, but it looks like he’s moved on. So we’d better keep our wits about us in the Endless Woods.”
Harlequin tensed, giving a small glance towards Mischief. The fur bristled along the zorua’s spine and they turned their face away again. Mischief’s assault on Enigma was going to be a sore spot for quite a while. And then there was that absol…
Spark wanted to tell Harlequin that there was an absol out there who intended to claim their life. But now wasn’t the time. Telling Harlequin could mean putting everyone’s life at risk. Although there was no saying the absol wouldn’t try to kill each and every one of them in order to get to Harlequin. Leave no witnesses.
But then, why spare Mischief?
Perhaps she could tell Cleo later, when no other ears were listening in. But with Harlequin so close to them, doing so would be tricky.
Cleo inclined her head on one side. “Spark? Are you okay?”
Spark jerked her head up. She’d sank down into Mischief’s fur as she’d tried to wrap her brain around it all. She nodded a couple of times, then yawned. “Just sleepy.”
“Well I’m afraid you’ll have to nap later.” Cleo stretched, grimacing with the effort. “We’ll need to keep our wits about us in the Endless Woods. It’s unknown territory, and the sun will be setting soon.”
...
More than a day had passed since Tinker had confronted the Guild Elites about the egg. Their words still swirled through his mind in a cacophony of chaos, mixed opinions strongly warring to be heard over each other.
‘Are you crazy, Tinker?! We can’t have a baby dragon running around New City!’
‘But he has a point. It doesn’t hatch a dragon-type. It gains that upon evolution.’
‘Yeah, just give it an everstone like you’re wearing, Tinker. Then we won’t have that problem.’
‘But the dragon-typing is in its blood! What if it turns on us?!’
‘Pokemon don’t hatch with morals. It can be raised with ours, like he’s said!’
‘Well my child isn’t playing with it. I doubt I’m alone there, either.’
‘It seems like a good idea on paper, but when it learns what it is, then what?’
‘Exactly! What if it decides to side with Hydreigon? New City could be finished!’
Tinker rubbed the bridge of his muzzle and let out a small sigh. His office felt oddly quiet despite the chaos swirling around in his mind. A soft paw brushed his shoulder and he looked up into the greying face of an alakazam. Grey had barely left Tinker’s office as the pair had tried to come up with some solution to the problem. Not so much down to Tinker’s request - Grey was often good at aiding moral dilemmas - but the alakazam had shown great interest in the egg.
“You need to make the decision soon, Tinker,” said Grey.
The pair looked over at the egg, hidden beneath its thick blanket. Going off how much the egg was beating, it would hatch soon. That didn’t leave Tinker much time. He could set it back outside, and the cool air would turn it dormant again. If it didn’t kill it entirely, that is. That thought didn’t settle well with the riolu at all, but New City were torn. The numbers were against him.
“If this hatches,” he said slowly, “then what chance will a tiny swablu have here in this city? If it’s never accepted…”
“You fear it will turn against us,” said Grey.
Tinker closed his eyes. “Exactly. It could grow up feeling unwanted. If it’s treated as an enemy, then it could become our enemy.”
“Or it could be the exact pokemon we’ve been looking for.” Grey gave him a small smile. “An unexpected ally in this battle.”
Tinker scoffed at that and looked back at the egg. “That was a foolish statement from me, and I regret it. I was looking at things through rose-tinted glasses.”
“Perhaps. But if it grows up knowing our side of the story, it may try to prove its place among us.” Grey paused for a moment and scratched his whiskers. “This divide isn’t as black and white as it seems, Tinker. Every pokemon has some goodness in them. Granted, some have a larger piece of it than others. But who’s to say what this little hatchling will grow up to be?”
“You think I should give it a chance?” Tinker gave the alakazam a sideways glance. “Go against New City’s wishes?”
“I believe everyone deserves a chance.”
“You’ve been spending too much time with Rose.” Tinker shook his head and approached the nest. “There is only one solution, Grey, and that’s to get rid of it before it becomes a problem.”
He whisked the blanket aside, snagging the egg in the process. It teetered on the edge of the basket for a fleeting moment, before wobbling over onto his desk. Tinker reached out to grab it, missing it by a fraction. It rolled along the desk, swerving too and fro before it dropped over the edge onto his desk chair. Small, hair-line cracks spread across its surface, and Tinker felt his heart sink.
Well, that had done it. There was little chance it would survive now. He closed his eyes briefly and reached for it. The egg flipped into the air, landing on its other side. Tinker took a step back, almost bumping into Grey who had popped up behind him like a shadow. The pair watched as the egg flipped again, wobbling on the edge of the chair. Tinker leapt forward to catch it before it shattered on the floor.
“Lively little thing,” said Grey.
Tinker didn’t get the chance to reply. Part of the shell exploded away as a small beak pecked its way through. The rest of the shell shattered, scattering across the desk. A pair of fluffy white wings stretched out, shaking the remnants of the shell away. They tucked into the side of a squat, blue body as the hatchling nestled in the remains of the shell, still clasped in Tinker’s paws. A pair of tiny black eyes met his, and the little bird tipped its head to one side and let out a small chirrup.
Tinker’s jaw went slack.
“Well would you look at that.” Grey chuckled and placed his paw on Tinker’s back. “He thinks you’re his mother.”
Tinker cast the alakazam a glare. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
The swablu chirruped again and skittered forwards until it was perched on Tinker’s forearm. Tiny. Barely any weight to it. Defenceless, oblivious to the world. As far as it was concerned, its entire world was that office and the two pokemon standing in it. If he was to send it outside now, it wouldn’t survive a day on its own.
The swablu’s little eyes peered into Tinker’s and a smile spread across the bird’s beak.
Tinker gave a small sigh and shook his head at the swablu. “Let me guess. You’re hungry?”
The swablu flicked its wings and bounced on the spot, chirruping with excitement.
Grey laughed and stepped back from Tinker. “I’ll go and see if I can rustle up any berries.”
“Not a word of this to anyone, Grey.”
Grey paused by the door and gave Tinker a warm smile. “You have my word.”
...
Cleo was beginning to understand how the woods had earned the name ‘Endless’. The dark spread of trees seemed to stretch on for an eternity. The variety wasn’t incredible, either. Oaks and sycamores were the dominant variety, their leaves and seeds strewn across the floor, crunching beneath the paws of the small group of pokemon working their way along what Cleo had guessed was the main path. The ground was well trodden beneath its blanket of freshly fallen foliage, winding its way through the trees and shrubberies. Not a sound could be heard from the canopy. It was as if Cleo and her companions were the only pokemon in the entire woods. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised to find that out. They’d not seen a single other pokemon since their encounter with Enigma.
Mischief had taken to moving on ahead of them, a wise choice since Harlequin’s hostility towards him put him at too much risk to lag behind. The zorua had made their feelings very clear. Harlequin refused to accept Mischief’s apology, despite his desperate claims he had no memory of his assault on Enigma. Cleo had eventually told him to drop it, it didn’t matter. If he hadn’t taken down Enigma, they’d all be dead.
Wounded or not, the banette’s condition was still unknown to them, and Cleo was keeping her wits about her perchance he was still tailing them.
Spark poked her head out of Cleo’s fur and looked around with a groan. “This wood just all looks the same. It’d be nice to know where we’re up to. You know… that we’re not just wandering in circles.”
Cleo nodded stiffly. She couldn’t deny the thought had crossed her mind. She glanced over at a knotted oak beside her, and her heart sank slightly. Its twisted trunk, the drooping branches that cascaded down onto the path, the bare and brown ivy vines tangling their way over its gnarled bark. Everything about it seemed familiar. Had they already passed that tree? Or were the Endless Woods just blending together in her mind? She flexed her claws and slashed a cross into the bark.
Harlequin snorted and gave the meowstic an unsettling smirk. “Good idea. Let others know someone has passed this way recently.”
Cleo wiped the sap from her claws onto the leaves of a dock plant and narrowed her eyes at the zorua. “It’s just the one. I’m just wanting to make sure we’re not walking in circles.”
Harlequin chuckled and their smirk widened. “Feeling a little lost are we?”
Cleo ignored the assassin and pressed along the path. Marking that tree had made her feel a bit better. That there was now some sign that would indicate if they were actually making progress. She kept an eye on the passing trees, trying to familiarise herself with their unique structures. The more one looked, the more different the trees began to look. U-shaped bends that forked the tree off into two directions. Ones with low branches thick enough for a larger pokemon to clamber upon and nestle in the crook against the trunk. Sycamores so full of ivy that the vines trailed over the branches to create a curtain around it like the spindly branches of a willow tree. A gnarled and twisted oak with brown, bare ivy vines tangling their way up it… with a cross cleaved into the bark.
Cleo’s heart hit her stomach and she screwed her eyes shut briefly, while Spark groaned from her shoulder.
Harlequin burst into fits of laughter beside them, bowed over as they struggled to remain upright.
Mischief came to a stop to look back at his companions, returning to reality from a daydream he’d been lost in. “Is something wrong?”
Cleo scratched behind her ear and looked around at the canopy. “We might be lost.”
“You are lost!” Harlequin gasped out between bouts of laughter. “You’re so obviously lost!”
“Laugh all you want,” Cleo told the zorua. “Because if we’re lost, so are you.”
Harlequin stifled their laughter, taking a few deep breaths. “Oh, I’m not lost. I’ve just been entertaining myself by watching your feeble attempts to work your way through this place.”
“Like you could do any better?” Spark spat.
“Oh I could.” Harlequin sat up straight. “I might not be familiar with this place, but I know more about it than you lot clearly do. And unlike you, I’m not lost in its spell.”
“Spell?” Spark’s lip curled and she shook her head. “Don’t be daft!”
“I’m not,” Harlequin retorted. “This place is enchanted.”
Spark opened her mouth again, but Cleo raised a paw to silence her before turning back to Harlequin.
“What do you mean ‘enchanted’?” Cleo asked.
“You’re making it sound like some hatchling tale,” Spark scoffed.
“Perhaps. But ’enchanted’ is the best word for it,” said Harlequin. “This place used to be inhabited by gardevoir. Over a century ago, when Hydreigon took over, they combined their powers to create a barrier over the entire woodland. Some consider it an extreme use of the move ‘confusion’ combined with psychic terrain. It messes with the heads of those who enter, even dark-types, throwing them off the trail and causing them to walk in circles. The deeper you get, the more paranoid you become until you either lose your sanity or turn back the way you came. Their enemies would never find the location of the gardevoir, nor would they find their way back out of the woods. They’d be lost in here forever.” A smirk tugged Harlequin’s muzzle. “Did you ever think to question how it got its name?”
Cleo licked her dry lips and looked around at the woods. It looked different now she knew what was going on. More unsettling.
“It sounds similar to Grey’s illusion,” Spark whispered in her ear.
Cleo nodded her agreement. It certainly did. It wouldn’t be beyond the skills of a group of strong psychic-types to create an illusion that could boggle the minds of any that entered it. Cleo could normally pick up on the powers of other psychic-types, but this one had eluded her. Like Grey’s illusion, it was subtle.
However… something didn’t settle well with her at all.
Cleo toyed with her ruff and glanced to the side at the tangled tree. “But… gardevoir were wiped out long before I was born.”
“That’s right. Since Hydreigon commanded all psychic-types be wiped out, as you well know.” Harlequin gave Cleo a mocking smirk that set the meowstic’s fur on end, and she clutched her bag strap tightly. “The barrier here is weakening, you see. Strong dark-types managed to withstand the influence and find the gardevoir’s location. Although what they found was an alarmingly small number, huddled in a tiny village deep in the heart of the woods. They must have been powerful to create this thing. But with none here to reinforce it, it’ll eventually fade out altogether.”
Spark made a thoughtful noise. “So you’re saying it’s not influencing you?”
“I feel it,” said Harlequin. “But it’s not bothering me as such.”
“So you can lead the way?”
Harlequin scoffed. “Why would I help you? I’m a prisoner!”
“So long as we’re stuck in these woods, so are you,” Cleo explained. “That’s motive to help us.”
“Really? They way I see it, as long as I’m in these woods I’m not stuck in some damp, mouldy cell,” said Harlequin. “And, so long as you’re lost, you’re not furthering your cause.”
Mischief cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “We could try this way?” He pointed a paw between the trees, indicating a narrow path that was overgrown with expired wildflowers and nettles. “We’ve not tried this way.”
Harlequin chuckled, but their expression was far from amused. “Go ahead. Follow your crack-pot friend. We’ll see where it leads you.”
Mischief’s face fell and his paw drooped to his side.
“Hey!” Cleo rounded on Harlequin, taking the assassin by surprise. “There’ll be none of that.”
“Yeah, watch your tongue, zorua!” Spark snapped.
Harlequin’s fur bristled along their spine and they rose to their feet. “He hurt my friend!”
“If you think Enigma’s your friend, you’re deluded,” Spark scoffed. “’Cos the things he said to you say otherwise!”
Harlequin’s eyes flashed and they lunged at Spark. The dedenne flinched, cowering in Cleo’s ruff. Cleo took a step back and raised her paws, her ears humming with repressed energy. Harlequin’s jaws snapped shut with a strangled gag and they rolled back from Cleo as the collar was repelled away from her.
Cleo let out the breath she’d been holding and met the livid gaze of the zorua. Harlequin pushed themselves back to their feet, seething, lips drawn back from white canines.
“Enough!” Cleo snapped.
Harlequin let out a low growl, fixing their glare back on Spark. “When you’re off that shoulder, pipsqueak, I’ll shut that mouth of yours for good!”
“Oh yeah?” Spark’s whiskers crackled, filling Cleo’s fur with static. “I’d like to see you try!”
Cleo stamped her foot. “I said enough!”
Her voice cut through the other pokemon’s squabbles, bringing them both to silence. Harlequin didn’t take their eyes off Spark, and the dedenne’s electricity tickled Cleo’s fur.
“This is getting us nowhere.” Cleo tried in vain to smooth out her ruff and nodded to the path Mischief had chosen. “Let’s just follow Mischief’s suggestion and see where it takes us?”
Harlequin scoffed as they reluctantly fell in step behind the meowstic. “Probably in yet more circles.”
Cleo shrugged the zorua off as she joined Mischief on the path. “Spark? Please just stop chiding her. It’ll make this journey a lot easier.”
Spark sank down in Cleo’s ruff. “I’ll try, but urgh, she just pushes my buttons.”
Mischief trudged on ahead of them, dragging his feet through the hidden carpet of leaves beneath the nettles. Cleo stifled a sigh. She wanted to talk to him and tell him things were okay, but it wasn’t a good idea with Harlequin listening in and exacerbating things. Cleo considered sending Spark back and forth to pass hushed messages, but that was just tedious and could result in misunderstandings. Not to mention Harlequin would probably be very vocal about it.
Cleo clawed one of the trees they’d passed, a slender and young thing that stood out regardless. But she wanted to be sure they weren’t walking in circles any more. The silence was growing more and more unsettling. Cleo wasn’t sure if it was a result of the enchantment, or the eeriness of knowing one existed in the first place and was directly influencing them. Her heart began to race at the thought of being stuck in the woods forever, unable to escape. The gardevoir’s enchantment might be fading, but given how long it had been around, it would be unlikely for it to fizzle out in Cleo’s lifetime.
She paused beside the very same slender tree she’d marked mere minutes ago and groaned. Mischief stopped to look back, and he visibly sank.
“Yet more circles,” said Spark.
“I told you.” Harlequin stood just behind them, head lowered. But a glimmer of amusement shone in their blue eyes.
Cleo stared down at the zorua, her mind warring with an elaborate plan. The only one not affected by the enchantment was the only pokemon in their party that would be reluctant to help them. But that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. If Cleo could pull the right thread, then perhaps Harlequin might actually get them through the woods.
Or they could lead them straight into danger.
Harlequin wasn’t an ally. They were a foe. One who wouldn’t bat an eye at slipping Cleo and her friends one of their poisons before making a swift get-away.
Cleo closed her eyes and sighed. “Harlequin… I’d really appreciate it if you could show us the way through these woods.”
“Really?” Harlequin gave a single laugh. “And why would I do that?”
Cleo cracked an eye open, noting the zorua’s smirk. That question was her way in. A wide-open gate.
Cleo turned her head to face the zorua fully. “Because I helped you search for Enigma.”
Harlequin’s blue eyes widened and they lifted their head, giving Cleo a completely dumbfounded look. “I didn’t really have much choice given we’re stuck together.”
“That doesn’t matter. You needed me to help you,” Cleo went on, “and I did. Granted, I was reluctant. You are our prisoner after all. But I put myself at risk to help you find your friend.”
“But we didn’t find him!” Harlequin snapped.
“That’s not my fault,” said Cleo. “He just didn’t happen to be there, and we lost his trail.”
Harlequin’s shoulders slumped and the fur bristled around their ruff. “I don’t return favours to Outcasts.”
Spark gave a mocking laugh. “You’ve probably never received a favour from an Outcast.”
“Not now, Spark.” Cleo placed her paw on the dedenne’s head, pushing her back down into her ruff. “Harlequin, if anything happens to us in these woods, you’re stuck here. And it’s very unlikely any of your friends are going to find you here. Even if they do, you’re with us. So what’s it going to be? Are you going to take that chance, or lead the way out of this trap?”
Harlequin blinked at her, and they flicked their left ear irritably.
With a sigh, the zorua stood up and moved past her. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll get us out of this wretched place.” They paused, glaring at Mischief. “But this monster keeps its distance from me. Understood?”
Mischief took a step back from her, and his orange eyes filled with tears. Cleo balled her paws into fists so tight her claws cut into her pads. But she bit back a retort. If she angered Harlequin, then they might take back their offer to help them.
Cleo gave Mischief an apologetic nod and he fell into step behind her.
Spark poked her head back out of Cleo’s collar, fixing her eyes on Harlequin’s tail. “You’re not gonna lead us into the Shadow Lands, are you?”
“How big do you think these woods are?” Harlequin scoffed.
“Big enough to get lost in,” said Spark.
“They don’t spread that far,” said Harlequin. “And so long as I’m stuck in this blasted collar then I can’t drag you anywhere, can I?”
“Fair point.” Spark vanished back inside Cleo’s fur.
They followed the zorua in silence, keeping to the less-used path. Nettles snagged at their fur, and wiry plants grabbed their feet like trip-wires. Harlequin seemed to dodge each one, skipping along ahead of them with a grace and agility that seemed to mock Cleo. With each snag, she began to feel like the very plants were pushing her back. A warning, perhaps.
The thought crossed her mind that Harlequin might actually be leading them into danger. They are the enemy, after all. Surely Harlequin would want to trick Cleo and her friends into waltzing right into one of Hydreigon’s traps?
Perhaps the whole of the Endless Woods was one of his traps?
The path wound to the right, cutting through the trees into a patch so overgrown she couldn’t even see the ground. But somehow, she felt that was the right way. Harlequin ignored it completely, skipping on ahead through the nettles. Cleo stared down the path, warring with the desire to take it or follow their foe further into the woods.
Cleo’s bracelet jerked and Harlequin snapped their head back towards her.
“Oi!” the zorua barked. “Are you following me or what?”
Cleo turned from Harlequin and stepped onto the overgrown path.
“No!” Harlequin’s voice rang in her ears as the zorua flailed pointlessly against the collar. “That’s the wrong way, you’ll end up walking in circles again!”
Circles.
The enchantment.
Cleo stepped back from the overgrown path to rejoin Harlequin. That was it. The enchantment was telling her where to go. Now she’d experienced the conflict, she was much more aware of it. Although it did still scream at her. A desperate, silent voice instructing her where to go, and should she go the wrong way it became fierce. It was reminiscent of when she was a young espurr and her classmates had used ‘confusion’ on her. Disorienting, and a little worrying, until it wears off. But it would wear off. If they kept pressing against it, then they should make it through to the other side.
She turned to follow Harlequin, who skipped on ahead once more. But Mischief faltered by the overgrown path, looking between Cleo and where the enchantment was telling him to go. Cleo grabbed his paw and dragged him along behind her, forcing herself through the fog of confusion.
“Cleo, I can’t stand this.” Spark’s voice was muffled by Cleo’s fur, and the small dedenne poked her head out to look back the way they’d come. “We’re lost! We have to go back.”
“We’re not lost,” said Cleo. “It’s just the gardevoir’s enchantment affecting you. Ignore it.”
“But what if it’s not?” Spark asked. “What if Harlequin lied, and she’s not immune to this? She could be leading us the wrong way!” Spark stood on tiptoes to gaze longingly back through the nettles. “We must go back! We are so, totally lost!”
“We’re fine,” said Cleo, as much to herself as to Spark.
“Yeah, we’re fine!” Harlequin turned their head to look back at her. “Just follow me and stop whining!”
“We can’t follow you!” said Spark. “You’re the enemy!”
Harlequin looked away and continued trotting along the path. “Fine. Go back. Get lost in these woods for all I care.”
Spark rubbed her paws together and gazed back through the woods.
“Don’t you dare leave my shoulder,” Cleo warned.
“But-”
“Do you want me to put you in my bag?”
Spark sat down heavily in Cleo’s ruff and folded her arms, but her eyes kept wandering back over her shoulder.
The further they advanced into the woods the more hostile it began to feel. Invisible eyes probing down from the canopy, watching the pokemon below them. Shadows creeping through the trees, stalking their prey. The trees themselves began to warp and twist, their branches reaching down like claws ready to snatch anyone who got too close. Holes in the trunks began to look like wide-open jaws with serrated teeth, open in an eternal scream as they stretched their branches towards the sky. Lost. Lost, frightened and alone.
Cleo’s heart hammered against her ribcage and she looked back down the path. Mischief was lagging badly, and she struggled to keep hold of his paw. Hers was slick with sweat, and she could feel the whimsicott’s entire body trembling along his arm. Spark twitched left and right, her long tail swishing against Cleo’s back.
Harlequin was forced to a stop several times, and barked at them to continue. Their voice was growing more desperate. Were they feeling it too? The zorua’s black tail hung limp behind them, but they seemed to know where they were going. Unless it was all a ruse? Did Harlequin not know where they were actually going?
The trees began to grow closer together, barring the path like an imposing army sent to close them off. Harlequin leapt between two of the trees, vaulting their knotted roots with ease. Cleo scrambled over them, the bark scraping at her arms as she squeezed her way between them. Mischief followed through in a flurry of creamy wisps which drifted on ahead of them.
The path on the other side grew wider as the trees spread out. Daylight leaked down through the canopy, and Cleo lifted a paw to shield her eyes. Harlequin waited a little way along it, and as Cleo headed towards them they took off again in a flash. But a strange sound reached Cleo’s ears. Something that seemed to call out to them, ringing out over the enchantment. A soft noise not unlike a bell. It wasn’t a chilling ring like Enigma’s bell, but one that sparked intrigue. It was almost musical. A tranquil sound that eased away the terror the woods had cast upon them.
Her eye wandered towards a tangle of razz bushes growing just off the path. Jagged thorns stuck out among lush green leaves, and a few berries still clung to the branches. Despite the appearance of it, it felt oddly inviting. Cleo broke away from the path to inspect them, and a yelp of protest came from Harlequin.
“What are you doing?!” the zorua exclaimed as they fought back against the collar, feet flying over loose derbis and kicking up red and orange leaves. “It’s this way! The exit is this way! We’re so close!”
Cleo stretched out a paw to part the thorny branches. On the other side was a wide clearing dappled with sunlight. The soft tinkling noise came from her left and she looked up as a small pokemon drifted out of the bushes. Cleo pushed herself through them, the thorns barely touching her fur. The small pokemon jerked around at the sound and a plump razz berry dropped to the floor. Cleo did a double-take. It wasn’t a pokemon she recognised at all. Its body was silver, and two long arms looped around from its sides holding several small keys. Two tiny black eyes over a key-hole shaped mouth widened with surprise and it turned and bolted away from them, its keys clanged together creating a tuneful chime.
“W-wait!” Cleo stretched out a paw and took off after it.
Harlequin and Mischief jogged after her, the former now oddly silent. The small pokemon vanished beyond the brambles at the edge of the clearing, and as Cleo followed after it the entire clearing warped.
The meowstic skidded to a stop and looked around, transfixed. They were no longer in the woods. Lush grass stretched out around them as far as they could see, dotted in the distance with trees. Colourful wildflowers grew in abundance, and in the distance she could see a sparkling river tracing a path down a green hillside. But what struck her the most were the pokemon. Whereas there had been none in the woods, this place was teeming with them wherever she looked.
Small pokemon she couldn’t identify drifted past them, clutching onto large flowers like parasols. A flock of mareep and flaafy flocked around a lake, grazing and dozing on the green grass. Skidoo and gogoat accompanied them, chatting together while their children skipped about playfully. A few hoppip floated past them on the breeze, and beyond them were so many grass- and water-type pokemon Cleo couldn’t even begin to identify them all. Hundreds from every type she could think of filled the garden. ‘Garden’ was the only word she could think to describe it. Plain, meadow, glade… nothing else seemed to fit.
“Cleo?” Spark’s voice wavered slightly, but her large eyes were glistening with curiosity.
Mischief and Harlequin stood at either side of Cleo, their expressions greatly contrasting. Mischief was watching the other pokemon with transfixed amazement, while Harlequin sat panting heavily with their ears drawn back. Cleo wasn’t sure which category she’d put herself into. Her heart was pounding, yet at the same time she wanted to rush over to the other pokemon and join them.
Spark was the only one who managed to find the words to voice what they were all thinking. “Where are we?”
