Chapter Text
The stones are arranged in a circle - tall and old. Through the fog, they rise; at dusk, they might be abandoned buildings on the horizon. Eerie and mishappen. Weathered and worn. They are ancient and secretive, latent power buried deep within them where they rest in the soil. Something about it draws in Pokemon like her - the others have all mentioned it once or twice, the strange pull. She feels it, too. It’s both friend and foe. Sometimes she sits at the base of this particular stone and drinks in the sensation before one of the tall witches chases her away. It makes it easy to pretend that, for a moment, she is loved.
But the stones are cold, and their circle is not an embrace…it is a prison.
---
“Are you listening, child?”
Faint smatterings of light filter through the kitchen window. It might be dawn…but it’s hard to tell. Much of Glimwood Tangle covers the town of Ballonlea; the sun’s light very rarely reaches its warm fingers down to the ground. The round table, laden with the empty dishes from breakfast, is instead painted in hues of pink, blue, green and purple. It was the way a section of pink was melding to a blue that had mesmerized a sleepy Bede, and he has to blink away his lingering daze.
Rubbing at one of his eyes, the boy attempts to think about what on earth he could have missed. “...Sorry…what was that?”
Across the table is an old, old woman. Bede’s become more familiar with her in the past couple of weeks…not that he’s had much of a choice in the matter. Ballonlea’s Fairy Gym Leader looks unimpressed once Bede finally meets her eyes. It’s a familiar expression, unfortunately. “Goodness me,” She murmurs, shaking her head, “are you awake now?”
A flush creeps up Bede’s neck. “Yes ma’am…”
“I should hope so. It’s already nine, child.” Opal reaches for her tea cup - it’s still steaming, although Bede could swear that he’d seen her pour it a good while before. The old woman takes a dainty sip and leaves her pupil to squirm. “I have a particularly important project for you. It is crucial to your training.”
“You mean like how dusting the entire bloody manor was crucial…?” Bede mumbles.
“Hmph!” Opal’s mouth pulls down into a scowl. “You’ve energy enough for sass, but not enough to pay attention! Such cheek…shall I explain the project, or would you like to return to your books?”
Naturally, Bede shudders. The piles of dusty old tomes upstairs in Opal’s private sitting room fill him with dread. Each one is more tedious and boring than the last…weren’t Fairy Pokemon supposed to be whimsical and fun? It’s not any help that the old woman’s prone to quizzing him at random about the blasted books, either - she’s got a mind like a steel trap, and Bede…well. He’s trying his best. Properly chastened, he attempts to look less sulky. “I’m ready.”
Though she still looks annoyed, Opal jerks her chin down into a nod. “Very well…we will start with a question that I want you to answer.”
It takes everything in Bede not to groan. “...A…quiz?” He manages, weakly.
“Oh, do chin up. It’s not that terrible.” Her cup sits back on its saucer; Opal folds her hands on the edge of the table. The stare she levels Bede with makes him sit straighter in his chair. “What is unique about…Eevee?”
The question catches him off-guard. After a moment, Bede clears his throat. “Err…they aren’t Fairy Pokemon.”
“They aren’t.” Opal patiently agrees. “What else?”
Bede leans back in his chair a little, his eyes focusing on the whorls and patterns in the woodgrain of the tabletop. “Eevee…they’re unstable, I think…? Genetically or some naff.”
For a moment, he’s sure that he’s gotten it wrong - Opal looks exasperated by his answer. He nearly sighs with relief when she relents. “I’ll allow that.” Is her quiet response. “Yes. The Pokemon known as Eevee are far different from any other Pokemon - while some Pokemon are set to evolve with time and experience and others require certain items, they all have determined paths. Eevee do not have just one or two possible outcomes, however…how many different Pokemon can come from an Eevee evolving?”
It takes a bit for Bede to remember. He’s sure he counts out loud as he thinks over it. “...Eight.” A pause. “Must I name them…?”
“No no.” Opal holds up a hand. “No…we are only focusing on one of them.”
He doesn’t need to be a genius to know which one she’s referring to. “Sylveon.”
A slow nod confirms his answer. “Correct.” Says Opal. “Sylveon is the Fairy-Type evolution to Eevee. They are also, I find, both the easiest and the hardest of those evolutions to obtain. Why might that be?”
This one sounds like an opinion question rather than one with a true correct answer. Bede crosses his arms. “To become a Sylveon…an Eevee needs to know a Fairy-Type move before evolving.”
“That’s half the answer. What else?”
He can feel his brow creasing and his lips thinning. Sometimes, Bede really just wishes the woman would get to the point… “...I…don’t know.”
To his surprise, Opal smiles. “Love.” She says, quietly. When Bede continues to stare, the old woman goes on. “While the Fairy-Type move is important, an Eevee will not ever evolve into a Sylveon unless it has a deep, loving bond with its trainer. Such a friendship is very important to several of Eevee’s possible outcomes, such as Umbreon or Espeon, but…only Sylveon requires the deepest and most heart-felt bond before it will truly come to be.”
The project is suddenly starting to appear before Bede’s eyes. He shrinks down in his chair. “...That…sounds like a lot of work…”
“Oh, it is.” Opal nods. The woman stands, carefully taking up empty plates and used silverware. “Which is why it can be so very difficult for some trainers to acquire such a Pokemon. It more often-than-not happens for those that aren’t really looking for it - trainers that bond with their Pokemon naturally have an easier time of it than those that attempt to force the connection.”
As she bustles away to the sink, Bede sits resolutely in his chair and tries to sort through the murky puddle that represents his emotions. “Do we really have time for me to sit here and play silly games, just to see how long it takes for me to get an Eevee to become a Sylveon?” He finally quips.
Opal doesn’t answer right away. Bede grits his teeth, leering out of the window into the mysterious Tangle. The water runs in the sink; dishes clatter around.
“I would not put you through this training if I did not think you could do it, child.”
The boy shuts his eyes. This isn’t the first time he’s heard her say that to him, and just like every other time he feels a mixture of emotions clamoring for the surface. None of them make it - he schools his expression as he finally gets up from the table to help clear away the rest of their mess.
“What if I can’t do it?” Bede blurts out, twisting a napkin around his fingers.
“You will.”
Her certainty annoys him. “But what if I can’t ?” He insists.
With a sigh, Opal beckons for him to approach. The moment Bede’s within range, she hands him a tea-towel and a freshly-washed plate. “Bede…” He glances up from the dish he’s attempting to dry, but Opal is staring resolutely at the fork that she’s scrubbing. “You’ve more heart in you than you realize. I have no doubts that you’ll succeed, and with flying colors. It may take you a long while, it may also take you only a few hours. You won’t know until you try…and you ought to, my dear.”
Bede cannot help but feel small as she says: “Everything deserves a little love.”