Chapter Text
Nothing.
It’s all you feel for what seems like an eternity; a strange half-asleep drifting sensation, floating in a dreamlike haze.
You don't know what you start to notice first -- soft grass underneath, gentle breezes whispering around you, sunlight warming your face -- but the voice definitely comes after, breaking through the fuzzy calm.
Hey, wake up! Please? Come on, please wake up!
You wake up.
You rather wish you hadn't, because the world is suddenly very bright and loud and big. You squint in the sunlight and make out the vague shape of… a Cyndaquil?
You're finally awake! the Cyndaquil says. You nearly fall over in shock -- this is a Pokemon, and Pokemon, as everyone knows, don't talk! But this one doesn't seem to be aware of that fact, as they’re still talking, talking about how they found you here and you were out cold and who are you, exactly?
Who am I, exactly?
You reach frantically for any of the small fragments of memory swirling through your mind, but it feels as if you’re trying to grab your most prized possessions out of a tornado. There's one thing that you manage to cling to, though, so you hold on tight and say it before it can disappear.
I'm a human.
The reply is immediate, and confused. But you look like a normal Mudkip to me!
You flail around in shock, almost tripping over your four legs (four legs???) as you stumble to the nearby pond and stare.
A Mudkip stares back.
You. You stare back. You are the Mudkip.
You don't remember much, but you're pretty sure you're not supposed to be a Mudkip.
The Cyndaquil, who had been patiently waiting during your flailing session, asks for your name.
A name, unbidden, leaps from the vortex in your mind and smacks you in the face on the way out.
Cassie.
It almost feels wrong to say, wrong in a way that you don't quite understand because you're pretty sure it is your name, but now you've said it and it's too late to take it back.
The Cyndaquil is giggling. You shrink a little at your name being considered funny, because whatever you may feel about it, it's a perfectly normal name.
I'm Cynders, they tell you, which is definitely a funny name, so you don't feel bad about it anymore; you can have funny names together.
There's no time for funny name bonding, though. Desperate cries for help slice right through the laughter, and the two of you turn to see a Butterfree limping towards you -- you never considered that flying things could limp, but it's the only way to describe this creature’s movement: one wing torn, riding the breeze with barely-aloft desperation. Her baby has fallen into a sudden crack in the earth, she says, her poor little Caterpie, and swarms of angry Pokemon stopped her from reaching him.
Cynders volunteers you both to help immediately.
You panic a little (okay, maybe a lot) because you don't remember ever fighting anyone before, you don't even know how to be a Mudkip, but as you panic you're following Cynders and you don't turn back.
There's nothing to turn back to, anyway.
You scramble down into a maze of roots and leaves and cracked earth, already disoriented. A mystery dungeon, Cynders calls it. Some strange phenomenon that's been affecting more and more locations, twisting them into new and unrecognizable mazes upon every visit. Twisting the Pokemon who get lost there, too, making them mindless and angry.
You resolve very strongly not to get lost.
Cynders takes the lead, burning through tangles of roots with their fire, and you follow, trying to master your own attacks. You have to master them quickly, learning in desperate flashes how to tackle and shoot water and turn the terrain into mud, anything that works to fend off the Pokemon attacking you.
It's almost too good to be true when you and Cynders burst into an open area, wide-eyed and trembling with exertion, to find a small green shape curled into a whimpering ball. Almost too good to be true when the three of you stagger back into the light, and you watch Butterfree fuss over her son, and you and Cynders lean on each other to stay upright, and smile.
Caterpie is staring at both of you with enough stars in his eyes to form a whole galaxy. You burn under the intensity of it, embarrassed, but something deep in your chest warms in a nice soft way, too -- is this how it feels to be a hero? To really, truly help someone? Maybe this is the kind of thing you were brought to this world to do, and maybe you're okay with that.
It's not until Caterpie and Butterfree leave that the overwhelming feeling of not knowing what to do next hits you. You're so obviously lost that Cynders takes pity on you and suggests that you come with them -- okay, maybe it's friendship, kind-heartedness, but you feel pitied, and you feel it until your tired feet finally stop in front of the perfect place to live, and then you feel like you're going to fall over from the emotion of it all.
Cynders says that it's a lovely place but it hasn't been quite right for them, not with it being drafty and surrounded by water. You nod politely, trying to resist the unfamiliar instinct to plunge yourself into the water until all your worries melt away, as well as the familiar instinct of wanting to lie down and sleep for as long as possible.
It's perfect. You tell them so, and they smile.
Cynders asks you to form a rescue team. You hesitate at the thought of going into more Mystery Dungeons, of putting your life in danger (it's a strange new life, but it's still yours), of waking up in this new hut instead of your own comfortable bed.
You think of Butterfree’s torn wing and Caterpie’s shining eyes. You think of this world and the way it's tearing itself apart. You think of Cynders, always so ready to do anything they can to help someone in need.
You say yes, and Cynders’ smile glows brighter than their flames.
They show you two scarves, which they admit (with a hint of embarrassment) that they’d been saving for a moment like this. You realize that Cynders has wanted to be part of a rescue team probably forever, and you've made that dream come true.
You get that warm feeling again.
One scarf is blue as the ocean on a clear day, and the other is the deep bright red of a comforting bonfire. You wear the red and Cynders wears the blue; a little piece of each other, to connect you as a team.
A team. You don’t have much, but you have a team, a partner, and suddenly this strange new world no longer feels quite as scary.