Chapter Text
It was a cold, hazy morning in Kitakami, and the rain was falling in a soft drizzle.
The bus trembled and shook as it toiled along the bumpy road; like the tall grass that crowded hungrily at its sides, the path was just barely tamed by the human hand. Florian pressed a finger against the fogged-up window and idly traced the shape of a Furret, complete with the beady eyes and long, twitchy whiskers. He thought he’d glimpsed one with its head poking out from the overgrowth, just now. Generally, though, the Pokémon here seemed just as wild as everything else. The land was wary and indifferent, but not necessarily hostile. Welcoming only to those who can see it.
But Florian—he struggled to make out the land’s open arms. Paldea was somewhat tame, all things considered. The roads were alive with trainers and fellow students traveling day and night; the Pokémon were fearless and curious, even friendly. And all the great cities shone out across the land like a lighthouse, lulling you to safety with their mere presence.
His home was a welcoming place by nature, save for the great crater that gaped at its very center.
No lighthouse could cast its guidance down there. The only light Area Zero saw was the constant, blinding glow that submerged its surface. Worse was the light from the crystals that would overwhelm you the deeper you went. They were painfully iridescent; their light burned into the back of your mind and promised something terrible and tragic. It had been several months already, but on some unfortunate mornings, Florian still woke up to the taste of thin, acrid air; to the memory of abandoned corners, of disembodied, apologetic voices, of a great crystal cage imprisoning a towering machine.
He wasn’t sure how his friends even managed with what they had learned and experienced. He was just happy that none of them, even Arven, seemed as affected by them as he was at this point in time.
He sighed, letting his surroundings drift into focus once more. The point of this trip was to take his mind off of the very incident his thoughts were already straying towards. Technically, it was a mission assigned to him by Geeta as part of his internship at the Pokémon League. Florian was to look for promising trainers residing in Kitakami and offer them a chance to challenge Paldea’s gyms. Both him and Geeta knew that this tiny, unknown corner of the world would yield little talent of note; but Geeta had let him have this trip anyway. She knew of the events in the Crater, and knew that he needed a break from their haunting aftertaste. He was beginning to learn that the top champion was surprisingly perceptive of her subordinates’ woes. The mission, if he could even call it that, was a kindness.
The bus stuttered to a slow stop. He thanked the driver and hopped out, looking around and breathing in the frigid air to clear his lungs. The steep hills and tall grass cleared to reveal a wide stretch of rice paddies. Above them, the Yanma were flitting about, the raindrops ricocheting off their ever-moving wings. The road cut through the paddies and meandered towards a set of twinkling lights in the foggy distance—the town, no doubt. His destination.
He leaned against the lone lamppost standing next to the bus stop, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. The mission was a kindness. He knew that he had Geeta’s covert approval to slack off, but he still wanted to do his best. It was in his blood to help; to say please and thank you ; to pave the road ahead and politely lend a hand. Summoning his determination, he fished out his umbrella from his backpack and began the short trek across the fields.
---
The land of Kitakami is nestled deep in the midst of a sprawling chain of mountains that lies to the south of the Sinnoh region. Only a few winding roads connect it to the outside world. Travel is quite limited, and the land doesn’t see that many visitors outside of those visiting during the summer season—the Festival of Masks apparently draws in a good amount of tourists each year. Outside of the traditional festival, however, little is known about Kitakami’s culture and people; its ecology is similarly poorly documented compared to the nearby regions.
Part of the reason why Kitakami is so shrouded in mystery allegedly lies in the locals’ reclusive attitudes. “This land is crawling with strange folk,” the bus driver had told him somewhere on the long road twisting on the mountainsides. “No idea why you’re keen on going there now, young man, when there’s still some time left till the festival…but you should try to keep to yourself. They don’t like strangers in Mossui Town.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Florian replied blithely. “Everybody loves me once they get to know me.”
The driver had squinted at him in the rearview mirror before wordlessly facing the windshield again. “Well,” he finally said before a stretch of silence, “don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”
And the driver didn’t need to warn him at all, really; Florian was feeling quite confident. If he was to name one skill that he was especially proud of honing, it was his ability to charm and convince. It already came to him naturally, but his travels across Paldea during the treasure hunt had truly sharpened it into a veritable weapon. His recent internship at the League helped immensely as well. The workload wasn’t heavy at all, but it did expose him to some entirely new types of jobs and people, and in a few weeks he’d already learned how to “talk it up like a used car seller as a fifteen-year-old”, as Penny had put it with a disturbed look.
So, armed with his umbrella, his six pokemon of choice, and his charming car seller personality to boot, Florian headed towards the distant lights of Mossui Town, watching the Yanma scatter as he approached. The fields were enveloped in a looming haze. He couldn’t see too far into the distance without the fog obstructing his view, with only the lampposts flickering overhead guiding his feet. It was early morning, and he was alone—until he wasn’t.
Florian could make out a pair of yellow eyes glowing out of the fog. They grew larger and fiercer as he approached the town entrance; with a dull start, he realized that they were fixated directly on him. A Pokémon? The pupils were dark and narrow, like an Arbok’s, or perhaps a Seviper’s; he wasn’t sure if Arboks could be found in Kitakami. And he thought he could hear something new just barely above the patter of the rain—a soft, low rumbling. He placed a hand on Tinkaton’s Pokéball at his hip, feeling it tremble aggressively. She was sensing a fight.
A Pokémon, then. Perhaps the wildlife here wasn’t as skittish as he had observed. He readied his stance, feet wide apart, and thrust back the hand holding his Pokéball—
The rumbling abruptly stopped climbing in pitch. After a stilted pause, a hoarse, piercing voice called out over the rain: “who goes there?”
Oh, he thought. What? He squinted into the fog; the eyes were still there, glowering. “Hello?” he called back, a little confused. “Uh, my name is Florian.”
Irritation oozed out of the voice as it tutted. “I’m not asking for your name, stranger. State your business.”
“Sorry,” he immediately apologized. “I had to check if you’re—human?” He slapped himself internally and tried again. “I’m here on behalf of the Paldean Pokémon League. We’re looking for talented trainers who may be interested in challenging our League system.”
A snort. “What a load of Tauros shit,” the voice mumbled before calling out more loudly for him to hear, “well, I’m sorry to say that none of us are particularly interested in your League. So turn back and leave us alone, why don’t you?”
This person, whoever they were, was stubborn and proud. Competitive. They were likely to appreciate him more if he stood his ground.
“Respectfully, I don’t think that’s for you to decide!” He shouted back with a smile. “Could you point me to the strongest trainer you know in this area? Or let me ask around in the town, at the very least?”
Sure enough, the answering voice earned a satisfied, haughty cadence: “oh, you’re in luck then, outsider.”
The mystery person finally stepped out of the fog to face him. She was a girl, perhaps not too older than himself, with sharp yellow eyes (they weren’t glowing anymore; had he just imagined things?). She would’ve towered over him easily if they stood side by side. Her hair was so black it shone, with hints of red gleaming between the dark strands, and cascaded down until it almost reached her waist; she was adorned in a dark blue uniform bearing an unfamiliar insignia. She looked mighty and well-composed, almost too out of place in a countryside town like this, save for the tacky, bright yellow headband resting proudly around her head.
“ I’m the strongest trainer in Kitakami, as far as anyone knows,” the girl declared, eyes crinkling into delighted crescents before bearing fiercely into his own, “and I’m not letting you in unless you beat me. Get ready to eat dirt!”
---
One of them did eat dirt, and it wasn’t Florian, the youngest reigning champion of Paldea. The girl grumbled and growled as she prowled back into Mossui Town with him in tow. “Your Polteageist was really strong,” he offered cheerfully as they passed a large signboard that marked the entrance to the town. “It was a Polteageist, right? I’ve never seen its regional form before.”
“It’s a Sinistcha. Completely different Pokémon,” the girl replied curtly without turning to look at him. “and it’s far better than a Paldean Pokémon like Polteageist.”
“You know that Polteageists live in Paldea? That’s pretty cool. Most people only know them as Galarian Pokémon.”
“I travel a lot. I’m not stupid. I’ve seen a Polteageist before.”
“Are there any other rare Pokémon in Kitakami? I want to register them to my Pokédex if I can. Do you have a Pokédex on your phone?”
Finally, the girl whirled around and bent down to aggressively push into his space, her hair bunched up angrily in her clawing fingers. “ You ,” she hissed through her clenched teeth, her pupils narrowing once more, “you talk too much, outsider.”
“My name is Florian,” he shot right back without missing a beat. “Speaking of, what’s your name?”
First name None-of-your, last name Arceus-damn-business, her Seviper eyes said.
“We’re at the community center,” was what she said instead, pointedly ignoring the curious look the nurse was giving her from the Pokémon center right across. “It’s got a few rooms and a shower. The receptionist will probably let you stay if you prove to her that you’re on fancy League business.”
That wasn’t an issue; he had his official ID with him. “I thought the people here ‘aren’t particularly interested in my League’?”
“We’re not rude pricks like that, no matter what you’ve been told about Kitakami. Just don’t push any of us and we’ll help you out just fine.” And she probably couldn’t see the blatant irony in that first statement, because she continued without stopping, “I know that that one bus driver keeps telling everyone that Mossui is a freak town.”
“He did tell me that!” Florian nodded empathetically. “Just not phrased so aggressively. I don’t believe him, though. You were nice enough to lead me here and show me where to stay, after all.” He did mean that wholeheartedly. He expected the girl to just stand out of his way and let him figure things out, not to help him in herself like this. Or perhaps she just didn’t trust him to not disturb anyone as he poked around in the early hours of the morning.
“Thank you for that, by the way,” he added. “You’re very kind.”
The girl did seem to deflate a little at that, her hostility defeated by his sheer earnesty. “Don’t mention it,” she muttered. “Now get in there. I’m a busy woman.” She thrust her thumb towards the community center.
“Are you sure you’re not interested in beating the Paldean League, though?” he asked cautiously. “I wasn’t lying when I said that your Pokémon are really strong, you know. The League will sponsor you and reward you for your time. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but you’ll probably beat our top champion easy once you plow through all the gyms.”
The girl blinked. Something about her seemed to rise in excitement, then; maybe the genuine compliment would indeed be enough to convince her. Not that she needed a lot of convincing in the first place. She clearly held an exceptional passion for battling, if her skill was any indication, and her pride could easily be baited into a challenge, as she demonstrated with their battle just now.
But then her eyes dimmed and her shoulders fell even further, as if a great weight was pressing down on her from some invisible plane. Suddenly she looked so painfully exhausted; he could almost recognize the stiffness in her shoulders as identical to his own. He’d seen it countless times while staring blankly into the mirror, on sleepless nights when the crystals’ light would flare out from beneath his eyelids and jolt him awake.
A bitter kind of determination settled into the tight set of her jaws. “And I wasn’t lying,” she heaved out, “when I said that I’m busy. I have more important things to do here.” She pointed at the community center again. “Get in there and leave me to my business.”
What is your business? He wanted to ask. What were you doing in the night, out on the road, for you to come across me at the crack of dawn? What is weighing you down?
But the girl’s Seviper eyes were now refusing conversation. She was trudging away before he could get out a single word, her steps heavy but her head held high. Florian turned away, feeling a little off-balance for once. He was glad he at least had the patience to mind his own business when the occasion called for it. Some people clearly weren’t willing to talk about certain things, even though he had no clue why that may be the case. He won’t say anything about his Crater Nightmares to anyone, either, and he wouldn’t be able to explain why.
He stepped towards the community center. Just as the automatic doors slid open without a sound, he heard the girl speak into the quiet morning air in an almost sing-song voice. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear her.
She was warbling like a bird Pokémon, or perhaps howling softly like a hound. “Just don’t push the land of Kitakami,” she went, “and the land won’t push back.”
---
The girl was right; the Mossui townsfolk were not at all “rude pricks”. The receptionist was a quiet, kind lady who didn’t hesitate in helping him settle in once he explained himself. The room he was given was perfectly hospitable, with a bed and a small desk and even a little shelf filled with books. He occasionally came across the same group of locals whenever he came out to loiter in the lobby, and they, too, were nothing but hospitable; they smiled easily when he greeted them first and made polite conversation.
But the bus driver was also unequivocally right in that the people here didn’t like strangers. At all. Florian could tell that they knew at least something about where he would be able to find some strong trainers to hopefully recruit. They simply declined to tell him, telling him instead that they were afraid they couldn’t help him, wearing such placid smiles that made it difficult to pursue the topic further. He could tell when he was welcome, but he could tell just as easily when he was not. The first few fruitless days spent prodding the townsfolk proved to him that the case here firmly belonged to the latter. These people were only waiting out the storm. They were expecting him to stay around doing nothing for a while before inevitably leaving.
And Florian could do that! That was what Geeta wanted him to do, after all. He could travel mindlessly about the Kitakami wilds, enjoying the new scenery and catching some new Pokémon along the way. He even had the (currently rather incomplete) Kitakami Pokédex ready on his phone for this exact purpose.
But both Geeta and himself had overlooked that it was in his blood to be helpful. He found that his brain would refuse to let him relax until there was nothing more that he could do about the situation. She really should’ve been more upfront about it all; the same tactic apparently worked whenever she had to force Larry to take a break, according to Rika, but to Florian a job was still a job. He had no choice but to give it his all.
The current plan of action was to find Seviper Girl again.
She was a local too from how she had spoken about the town, but she was different from the others. The others were armed with a guarded gentility that rendered his charms useless. The girl, meanwhile, was all rage and ferocious pride, and had demonstrated that she was, at the very least, willing to actually engage with all his talk of battling and strong trainers. Her passion seemed far more approachable than the immovable wall of the townspeople’s indifference.
Florian learned from the receptionist that the girl’s name was Carmine. He got the feeling that they all kept their distance from her. The receptionist spoke of her fondly, saying that the whole town had watched over her since she was a child, but her words still carried that same guarded undercurrent she had shown towards him. Perhaps she was just as much of an outsider as him in some respects. Her sleek clothing, her brazen attitude, her well-traveled air—they had all felt just a little off in this quiet, sedentary place.
He got up in the middle of the night on his third day in Kitakami, his plans already etched out in his mind. He had been thinking for a while as he lay in bed. He wasn’t able to spot Carmine anywhere during the day; not in Mossui Town, not in the nearby wilds. He wasn’t too sure that the townsfolk would be willing to tell him where she was, either.
According to the Pokécenter nurse on her night shift—the only person here who was willing to talk to him for more than a few minutes, apparently—she saw Carmine going out into the wilds quite a few times well after midnight. So Florian’s plan was to get out there after midnight as well, and catch her on the road as she is traveling back into the town. Then she’ll have no choice but to hear him out, and he could wing it from there.
It was admittedly a flimsy plan, but Florian was grasping at straws here anyway. If he could get Carmine to talk to him, and even she isn’t too willing to help him out, then he’ll well and truly give up and enjoy himself from that point on. He’ll run around and catch all the Pokémon he could find, head straight back to Paldea, and report to the League that he had unfortunately failed to procure any promising trainers. No one would fault him for it.
The nurse was on her shift when he exited the community center. She stopped mid-yawn to stare at him, giving him a lazy wave. “You going out right now, kid?” she asked. “It’s four in the morning.”
“Hello! Yeah, I’m heading out to explore.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re trying to find that tall girl, aren’t you? I haven’t seen her anywhere in town recently, either.”
“Aw.” He frowned. “I really need to talk to her, though…”
The nurse must’ve felt a little bad for him, then, since she decided to throw him a bone. “Well, whenever I did see her sneak out around this time, she always went west towards Reveler’s Road.” He looked out towards his right, seeing the small bridge leading into a wide path that sloped upwards into the dark distance. “Maybe you’ll catch her in the festival grounds?”
“The festival grounds?”
“Kitakami Hall.” She shrugged. “It’s the only thing of note over there, really. Just walk up the hills along the road and you’ll get there in no time.”
“I see! Thank you. I’ll check it out.”
“No problem, kid.” She paused in consideration. “Just don’t follow the road into Oni Mountain, alright?”
Florian blinked at her, curious; one of the folks at the community center had told him something similar with a measured look. Don’t stray too close to Oni Mountain while you’re out there, he had said almost offhandedly. Stay out of trouble.
He looked up, trying to see the great mountain looming just behind the center building. He could just barely make out the jagged stone teeth that lined its steep side. “Why is the mountain off-limits?” he wondered out loud. “Is it dangerous?”
The nurse shrugged again, a little mischievously this time. “I dunno the details, kid. I’m an outsider from Sinnoh, same as yourself.” Her smile grew thin and crooked. “But apparently there’s a monster up in the mountains. An ogre who’ll suck out your soul and eat you alive.” She winked. “So, you know. Stay safe out there!”
He wasn’t sure how seriously he was supposed to take that story, but as he made his way onto Reveler’s Road and looked around cautiously with Tinkaton at his side, he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of danger about him; not in the grassy plains rolling down towards the south, not in the distant, winding river snaking through the lowlands. The wild Pokémon didn’t dare approach him. The Hoothoots hiding in the sparse trees scattered and flew away when he came even a tiny bit too close for comfort. Only the wind whistled louder as he climbed higher and higher—other than the occasional cry of some unknown Pokémon, he couldn’t hear a single voice. He couldn’t see or hear any monster; neither could he spot Carmine.
Once he was certain he was alone, Florian let Koraidon out of his Pokéball for a ride. He preferred to let him out when there weren’t many people around, just in case; the Paradox Pokémon was one of a kind, and tended to attract too much attention. His partner emerged with a flash and a bubbly cry, excited to stretch his legs for the first time since coming to Kitakami
“You see any ogre out there, buddy?” he asked him, ruffling his feathery crest. Koraidon only cocked his head to one side like a curious Rowlet in response, his amber eyes round and his tongue hanging out. He prowled around his trainer a few times with his nose held high in the air; then he returned to his side with a questioning squint. “I thought so. Let’s get to Kitakami Hall. Maybe the monster will show up once we’re closer to the mountain.”
Koraidon let out an exasperated huff. No need to go looking for trouble like that, his drooping plumes seemed to say. Nevertheless, he carried Florian on his back without complaint, shooting up the hill like a bullet. Florian let out a holler, hands gripping hard onto Koraidon’s shoulders, feeling the wind tear across his sides like a rough current. The bamboo trees lining the road whipped past him in a blur. They were steadily gaining altitude, and he ducked lower on Koraidon’s back, readying himself for a swerving corner that lay just ahead—
Koraidon scrambled to a sudden halt, almost throwing him off. Florian shook himself, clearing away the wave of nausea, and reached down to scratch at his partner’s cheek. “Woah, hey,” he cooed. “What’s wrong?”
He could feel Koraidon’s muscles tense under him. There was movement in the corner of his eye. He followed Koraidon’s sharp gaze, looking up at the crest of a mound of bare stone rising just towards his left. Standing at the top was a dark, giant shadow.
Florian sucked in a breath and held it in. The shadow was blurry and unrecognizable, but it seemed about as large as Koraidon, maybe even larger. Wordlessly, he urged Koraidon to inch towards the foot of the stone hill, where they would be hidden from view. Miraculously, the shadow didn’t seem to have noticed them; instead it was facing the grasslands far below the hill, still and focused. Finally, it slipped quietly down the other side of the mound. He could hear it scrabble on the stone; then it was gone.
Very slowly, Florian leaned down to whisper in Koraidon’s ear, “you think that was the ogre?”
Koraidon only whined a little in response, still too shaken to raise his voice.
“I think…” His heart was pounding. “I think we should be real careful from here on.”
Florian decided to call Koraidon back to his Pokéball. His bright red friend stood out far too much in the gloom. He made the rest of the journey to the Hall in tense silence.
---
The festival grounds were predictably barren. A few empty stalls were out in preparation for the festival; rows upon rows of lanterns were hanging from high wooden poles, but they were not yet lit. Carmine was nowhere to be seen. He had expected as much; there wasn’t any guarantee that she would be here anyway, so he wasn’t too disappointed. Instead, he wanted to take the opportunity to investigate the mountain and its monster.
The paved stone path led him around a large shrine made of bright red wood and towards a set of stairs climbing higher in the direction of the mountain. Then it abruptly gave way to wet, untamed grassland. His eyes followed its upward slope to gaze upon a grand cavern opening up at the side of Oni Mountain, studded with ancient, gigantic stone teeth that stabbed upwards from the ground or hung from the high ceiling.
Florian wasn’t even bothered to stifle his gasp of wonder. He ran up the sloping grassland and stepped cautiously into the cavern, half expecting that giant shadow from before to leap out from behind one of the myriad stalagmites. When no such thing happened, he began to explore the place with more vigor. He marveled at the hazy scenery of the plains and rivers way down below, visible through the gaping opening to his left; he dipped his bare feet into a stream that tumbled down from a majestic waterfall to his right.
He was standing on the old wooden bridge laid across the stream, listening to the water rush below him, when something warm and fuzzy wrapped itself around his leg.
Florian let out an involuntary yelp, wincing as his own voice bounced about the cavern rocks. He looked down. Brushing against him was a little Furret. It weaved around his legs before standing up tall, its round eyes unreadable and almost assessing as they stared up at him. It chirped loudly, the sound echoing throughout the cavern.
He tentatively reached down to try and calm it, still somewhat perplexed; why was it daring to come so close to a human? “Hey, little guy,” he soothed, “you should quiet down…you don’t want the ogre to hear, don’t you?”
But the Furret chirped again, piercing and insistent. Florian began to panic a little. The monster may not be here, but the wild Pokémon should come looking for the source of the noise if the Furret kept crying out like this. He let Koraidon out; his friend immediately stood to attention, looking around vigilantly.
Sure enough, he heard something scuffle on the stone floor. Then the sound sharpened, gaining clarity: it was a jangling noise, clear and almost melodic. The Furret cried out again, louder this time. Koraidon whirled around to stare deeper into the cavern.
Something bright emerged from the gloom amidst the stone teeth. A pair of eyes glowing bright yellow, peering out towards the night. Looking directly at him. They captured Florian in a startling sense of deja vu.
“Carmine?” he called out without thinking.
The eyes widened in surprise. Then, after a beat of silence, a soft, weary rasp: “sis isn’t here.”
A sudden gust of wind alarmed him. He glanced back. The clouds were parting; the moonlight beamed into the cavern, lifting the concealing darkness. The wispy mist rising from the stream sparkled as it caught the light, illuminating the cavern in a subtle glow.
He cast his gaze across the cavern once more. Standing where the shadows have melted away was a boy. He was clad in white against the dark walls like a pale, faded ghost; his gaze flitted away, unable to meet Florian’s own. The Furret cooed happily, darting over to the boy and nuzzling his stomach. The boy’s hand, in turn, reached out to briefly pet the creature’s head before going back to bouncing anxiously against his side.
Florian thought he could see something glitter at the boy’s feet, but he found it impossible to look away from his face to check. The boy opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then he spoke again.
“H-hello.” His lips wobbled a little before twitching upwards in a nervous smile. “My name is Kieran. Are you my sister's friend?"