Archive of Our Own ^beta

By all means Jason should have been dead.  Lucas and his brother’s mission should have been a failure, returning to Jason's mom with nothing more than the torn red bandana the Dewott wore and confirmation of a scene they would refuse to describe.  Yet, by the grace of Arceus, the young pup still stood alive… and caught in another hopeless battle.  Lucas didn’t know whether he should be impressed or overcome with pity for the Dewott, but he couldn’t afford to divert his attention to that debate.  Lucas had to focus on his sprint.  He couldn’t fail now.  

A moment of hesitation doomed the pup’s attack as the Growlithe evaded it with ease—not that he channeled enough water into his “scalchops” for them to have done much.  It dashed away before circling back to try for another lunge.  Jason summoned his energy and hastily let loose a Water Pulse that was more akin to a Water Gun despite the ragged Fierce Bandanna he bore strengthening it.  The Growlithe barrelled right through it, jaws still barred and ablaze.  The Dewott’s stance was still stiff and narrow, unfit for either dodging or blocking. 

Lucas pushed his magic into his bushy tail, feeling a tingle as a brilliant white glow overtook its dirtied brown.  With a small bound he flicked it.  The energy within condensed into several shimmering stars that shot forth and struck their target in an instant.  The blow broke the Growlithe’s charge and sent it crashing into the rugged igneous stones of the cavern floor with a small whine.  Before it could recover, he shifted his energy to his legs and blitzed forward nearly as fast as the stars had.  Passing Jason, he zigged to the side preemptively, dodging a swipe the Growlithe tried to sneak, and zagged back for his pounce.  Claws unsheathed, he didn’t hold back with his strikes.  The beast was finished in a matter of seconds.  

Not letting the spike of adrenaline fall just yet, he scanned the rest of the room.  Past the fallen forms of several wild Pokémon strewn across the dungeon floor remained only his brother and a Ninetales standing, locked in heated combat over the room’s exit.  With the sight, Lucas released some tension with a deep exhale.  The tremors that trailed behind them were still decently far off last he put his ear to the ground to check, and he knew Kyle could handle himself against the Ninetales.  Right now, Lucas needed to cool off—a little hotter and he was worried his fur might catch fire, and a blazing Eevee was not a very useful Eevee.  

Still, he kept an eye on the other Eevee’s battle.  

“You hesitated, then you lacked conviction.  Plan with your mind, or react with instinct.  You cannot choose both,” he repeated to Jason without looking, though his inflection was off from his panting.  “You can’t engage them up close until you learn that, and I doubt that’s going to sink itself into your soul before we get what we need and get you out of here.” 

He cheered internally as he witnessed Kyle twist himself through an opening between a pair of blazing pillars and convert his twirl’s momentum into a mastered Double Kick to the Ninetales’s muzzle.  He then realized he received a response of silence from the Dewott and forced his eyes away from his brother’s fight.  

Jason had shrunken in on himself with a rather disturbed expression; he was as frozen as a Cryogonal despite Mt. Cinis’s heat.  Lucas tilted his head automatically before the answer struck him.  The pup wasn’t used to fighting a dungeon’s creations.  One more reason he shouldn’t be here.  

Another part of him thought the opposite.  

With a violent yet silent shake of his head, the Dewott replaced his expression with a scowl.  “I could have taken it!”  

“At what cost?  Your ability to walk?”

“I was going to dodge it!”  Jason threw his hands down as he shouted.  

“Your stance said otherwise.  That is, unless your idea of dodging is giving the dirt a big smooch.  Your form must be wide and loose,” Lucas said, readying himself as an example. 

“I can handle myself!  I’ve made it this far without you two explorers!”  

Lucas sighed.  “Thank Arceus you have, but you shouldn’t be here in the first place.”  

“And leave all the duty up to you, huh?  You explorers would like that.  More Poké for you, right?” Jason said and pointed an accusing finger at him.  “Well, too bad!  I don’t need you!”

“No, you aren’t strong enough—you aren’t trained enough—you are not an explorer!  You can’t take these risks,” Lucas appealed.   

“And you can!?  I’m the Evolved Water-Type here!  What do you think you are?  Human?”  

Lucas flinched and growled, though he didn’t know why.  The pup was being absurd—he didn’t want to be helped or see reason.  “Pup… listen—”

“You’re barely older than me!”

“Jason the Dewott!” he snapped.  “Some day you can be a hero, but today you’re going to get yourself killed!   Is that what you want for your family?  Is that going to save your sister right now?”

Lucas condensed his frustration and let it loose in a huff.  

Jason snarled and shook his fists, but his mouth failed to find words.  

Lucas’s ear twitched at a low sound his mind could barely register.  

He raised his paw to hush Jason, which only set him off more.  The Dewott dramatically raised his foot—mouth ready to spit out something vile—but the earth shook as it came down, and it was as if all his anger seeped into the ground with it.  

A minor pain shot through Lucas’s back, and he whipped around to see a pebble bounce off of him.  He turned his attention upward.  Dust floated down from the ceiling and a few more pebbles fell around them like a drizzle of rain.  

Another explosion more intense than the last reverberated from beyond the room’s entrance.  

He overestimated how far away the tremors were.  “Time to move,” Lucas said urgently, hoping he withheld any panic from his voice.  He hoped he had just lost track of its distance instead of its—

“Look out!” his brother called, bringing him back to the fight he had foolishly forgotten.  

A Will-O-Wisp rushed toward Jason.  Without enough time to deflect it, Lucas tackled him and took the hit to his tail instead.  His instincts threw him off the Dewott and onto the ground.  He rolled frantically on the sharp stones of the floor, ever grateful for his protective coat, until a cool spray snuffed the flame.  As he brought himself back to his feet, he steadied his balance against the shake of a now expected rumble.  A quick glance revealed a charred patch of fur on his tail along with much of his coat now being stained ash gray, but he was alright—his tail was a better target than his wrist scarf or side satchels at least.  

“I thought you were supposed to be saving me,” Jason said with precisely the degree of smugness one would expect from a Pokémon his age.  

“He just did,” Kyle grumbled for him as he stood between them and the weakened but enduring Ninetales.  Their opponent tilted its head back and unleashed a torrent of flame from its throat.  Kyle stood steadfast and summoned a light blue barrier that halted the attack until it faded.  It still had too much fight left in it—fight that they didn’t have time for.

“Support me as I knock it away,” Lucas yelled, not waiting for a reply as he dashed past his brother.  

Despite hearing a huff of frustration and disbelief, shimmering stars shot parallel to him and flinched the Ninetales before it could ready a counter.  Lucas engulfed himself in energy.  He slammed himself into the enemy’s side, making certain he avoided its cursed tails.  The large fox was sent tumbling ungracefully to the edge of the room while he hissed from the recoil.  It wasn’t defeated, but it bought them the chance they needed.  The group braced for the next explosion then raced to the room’s exit.  

Jason stalled at the corridor entrance though, turning to charge a blast of water.  His attack successfully came out as a Water Pulse this time and knocked the rising Ninetales back down to the stone floor.  

“Jason, we don’t have time for that!” Kyle reprimanded. 

“At least your attack was better,” Lucas offered half-heartedly as Jason caught up.  He caught a confused glance from Kyle.  

Just as they rounded the first turn of the corridor though, a final explosion obliterated the previous room’s entrance, spraying boulders across the whole room—its sheer intensity threw them all to the floor.  The beast’s true visage was hidden by the all-consuming cloud of dust save for a pair of glowing red lights some twenty feet off the ground that pierced it.  Nothing on the previous dungeon floors compared to this—nothing he’d seen in any dungeon did.  

The group continued their dash as a flurry of tremors signalled the beast’s pursuit.  It was then exchanged for the return of the rhythmic pattern of explosions as it reached the barrier of the tunnel.   

The tunnel was cruelly short.  After a right turn, it was just two quick lefts, a short straightaway, then a final right before they were met with the next room.  It was utterly massive.  The roof extended so high the ever-present light of the dungeon barely revealed the hanging stalactites above.  Lucas imagined there was enough space for a whole town’s marketplace to fit in, even with the magma river flowing down by the side or without clearing the Rhyperior-sized rocks littered about that made the other end of the room impossible to make out.  Yet, there was not an exit in sight.  Arceus truly did hate them.  

“We can’t outrun it here,” Kyle said as he picked a rock for cover that looked the least like it could be a sleeping Golem or Giglaith.  “Lucas, use the Escape Orb.”  

“WHA— NO!” Jason blurted.  “You promised we would get the herb on the way out!  I’m not leaving!” he said with a determined and brave facade.

“Look behind you!  We won’t survive that thing behind us, and our death means no herb for your sister either.  We will try by ourselves tomorrow,” Kyle tried to reason.   

Their argument continued, and Lucas hesitated as Kyle stepped in front of him and offered his side and satchel.  He knew his brother.  With a dungeon capable of manifesting such a beast, Kyle would insist on turning back before they ever got this deep into the dungeon again—not without the insurance of an Escape Orb at least.  The fact that the explorer badges of old no longer worked thanks to the crisis felt crueler with every passing day.  But what more could he do though?  Kyle nudged his side closer to Lucas.  He obeyed, unlocking Kyle’s satchel and pulling out their last Orb—  

“LOOK!” Jason shouted.  He pointed toward a small green glitter at the far end of the room, just barely visible at this distance and through the obstacle course of debris.  That was it!  He started a sprint toward the light but tripped due to another terrible explosion.  

Kyle quickly leapt forward and shielded him from a spray of rocks with Protect while Lucas guarded his own head.  Gently, but firmly, Kyle dragged Jason behind another rock as the dust cloud engulfed their region.  

The beast sniffed; each sounded like it was strong enough to pull them off their feet.  Its stomps were slow this time as it began its search.  Lucas’s eyes fixated on the green glow still visible at the edge of the room as a deep grumble and the sound of claws scraping stone reverberated throughout the cavern, filling his ears and echoing once more inside his body.

Shrouded by the dust cloud, he mustered a fine impression of a Nickit and snuck to his brother and Jason.  He leaned to his brother’s ear.  His lungs barely pushed out air.  “I’ll grab the Herba Mystica.  Protect Jason from strays and use the Orb as soon as I get it.”  

“Lucas, that is absurd!”  Kyle failed at hushing his voice quite as much as him.  

“Got any better ideas?”  

The noises neared.  

“Yes!  We leave right now!” 

“Well, I don’t like that one.”

“No mission is worth throwing away your life!”  Kyle reached to take the Orb away from Lucas.  

He passed the Orb to Jason who accepted it with a firm nod despite his quivering.  “I can’t snag it if I’m dead, now can I?” Lucas said with a smirk.  He already pictured his path in his mind.  Kyle would come around; he just had to force his paw.  

The stomps stilled and the grumble devolved into a snarl as the noise lowered just on the other side of their rock.  A faint red glow crept around their cover.  Lucas felt like he was boiling.  It was now or never.  

Lucas pushed energy to his legs.

“Let the field itself be a weapon and shield,” echoed an old voice in his head.

He launched himself forward in an instant.  He weaved behind rock after rock as a trailing Flamethrower melted each in a second.  Embers caught on his fur.  

As Lucas reached the edge of the flames’ range, they ceased.  A surge of air came, and Lucas dared to look back as he ran.  His eyes found the beast was a monstrous Charizard whose stature and power defied all laws of nature, but there was nothing that could bring a dungeon to justice for its infractions.  In a single motion, the dragon threw down its dreadful wings, thrusting itself into the air over Kyle and Jason and summoning a twister that sped toward him just as fast as it itself.  The twister swirled, hurling cinders and blazing pebbles.  The Charizard beat its wings, and blades of wind sliced through the air yet faster—they cut through the cavern stones as if they were a Scyther cleaving through berries.  

Lucas bounded behind stones and over the blades, yet he was left exposed to the twister’s bombardment each time he did.  It bruised, it burned, but he braced for it.  

The rocks diminished as he neared a smooth plateau, and the monster trailed so close that he could feel the heat of the flame building in its throat.  

He needed something new. 

“You will always be small before your enemies.  Accept this and it shall be your strength.“ 

He leapt over a breath of flame to the tip of the nearest boulder, flipping himself off of it as high as he could as it melted.  The twister blew right past as he aimed for the dragon, digging his claws and fangs as deep as he could into the beast’s nape.  

It bellowed.  The cavern shook and Lucas’s ears rang.  The mixture of blood, soot, and ash made him want to gag—he locked his eyes tight and his jaw tighter still.  It thrashed.  He heard it gnash on either side, failing to reach around and snap him in half.  It thrashed harder; he felt their course veer.  He released his grip and threw himself off.  He just barely avoided crashing with his face—instead probably crushing most of the seeds and berries in his right satchel—as the Charizard was thrown into the wall.  The impact was an earthquake.  Stalactites shook and shattered off the ceiling.  

“On your feet!  To lose your footing is to lose your life!”

Lucas let neither the dull nor sharp pains that attacked slow him, continuing his sprint and dodging the falling spikes by inches.  He was halfway there.  

A dip in the terrain came into view.  The plateau gave way to a basin through which the room’s magma river joined a larger current and flowed underground at the wall and into the unknown.  The slope from the plateau to the river would be a difficult trek down, but on the other side was a sheer rocky cliff with just a few outcroppings of solid stone.  The Herba Mystica taunted him on top—its glow somehow shined brighter to him.  Lucas felt vindicated in his previous thought on Arceus.  

He heard the dragon pick itself up and stomp, far more powerfully than any other thus far.  A continuous cracking raced to him.  He jolted to the side, but the cracking homed in and found itself underneath him.  Suddenly glowing a white red, magma and raw energy burst forth.  Lucas barely pushed his paws off the ground to avoid most of the blast, but was sent tumbling down the slope.  

Disoriented, he tucked in his limbs and head.  The ground struck him as he bounced.  The stone turned to gravel and shards splintered through his coat and tore through his satchels. Composing himself, he controlled his roll and shifted his body vertically.  He slammed his legs and paws into the soil—it cut him like blades, but he had no choice.  He skidded to a halt just before the bank of the magma river.  Pebbles, a couple smooshed berries and seeds, and some Poké rolled past him and plopped into the river, disintegrating in an instant with a fizz.  For a brief moment he allowed himself to be grateful that Kyle carried their valuables.  

The river appeared just barely too wide for him to leap across, even with Quick Attack.  He racked his brain as his gaze darted along the river, both searching for a solution.  He settled on dashing upstream to where it was more narrow.  

Wind blew down to his ears.  The beast perched at the edge of the plateau with no care for its impact.  An avalanche of stone came from the slope and ceiling, a few from the latter even flinching the beast.  Lucas had a new plan.  

Dodging the falling rocks, light on his bloodied paws, he tracked a large boulder until it crashed into the river.  He underestimated the range as a drop splashed onto his paw, forcing him to extinguish it with ash.  The Charizard had recovered now and charged an intense blast of fire.  Lucas surged his energy into his paws, but stilled himself, intending to bait the attack.  The Charizard threw its head back and unleashed its attack as Lucas bounded to the boulder and off, but the overwhelming blast still slammed him into the wall.  

He laid flat.  He twitched, and his body screamed.  The voice scolded him once more, demanding that he stand.  He had to stand.  He must stand!  His legs quivered and his body rebelled against his efforts, retaliating with searing pain.  “Traitors!” he cried to himself internally.  The voice grew louder, sharper, and devolved into beratement.  At the edge of his willpower, he subdued his body and enslaved it to his command.  He stood.  

His vision focused and he was met with the looming beast charging another blast.  His mental guard cracked and fear rushed through the breaches.  Oh Arceus…  

Stars shimmered as they shot above the Charizard, striking a massive stalactite that fell and shattered against its spine.  

It stumbled, shifted its foot to the edge, and the ground underneath it collapsed.  The fearsome dragon fell into the pit as well.  

Kyle stood sturdy overlooking them.  He unleashed an unending flurry of stars with swipes of his tail—they did little to the beast except annoy it, but that was all Lucas needed.  

What would he do without Kyle?  

Lucas crawled to the wall, away from the fight and falling debris, and closed his eyes.  The voice came to him again, and soothed him.  “Above all else, look to your side.”  Gentle.  Kind.  Loving.  

He summoned energy from his soul.  He grasped at the feeling; clung tight to the emotion.  Clearing his mind of the scene before him and the pain assaulting him, he began sowing the warmth within his magic.  Most of it spilt out, as if he were trying to cup water with his paws.  He held onto his family, his purpose, and the work he must do.  More slipped through his paws.  His Wish still formed.  Golden sparkles laced with his spirit danced around him, trickling life back into him.  It was pitiful compared to his brother’s Wishes, but small tears in his flesh mended and the pain eased enough for him to no longer have to wage war with his body for it to comply.  

He opened his eyes and found himself back in the battle.  Through the dust and fading aura of light around him he surveyed his surroundings once more; he found his path.  It was just in time, too.  

“Get up!” cried Kyle.  

Lucas pushed his body and vaulted over an absent-minded swipe of a blazing tail as the Charizard stood.  He sprung once more onto an outcropping in the rockface, then bounded upward to another.  

The dragon roared again and its claws extended to swords of draconic energy.  

Lucas steeled himself.  The gust from the mere movement of its wings nearly threw him off.  

The monster threw down a flurry of strikes with the full force of its unimaginable weight behind them and obliterated everything it struck.  With a dance-like form, Kyle masterfully bounced over and away from each, but the strain on him was obvious.  He couldn’t keep it up for much longer.  Kyle reached the limit of the razors’ reach, but the Charizard’s wings already glowed white for its next assault.  

Just then, a blast of water came from the room’s side and sizzled harmlessly against the dragon’s chest.  Its focus broke and reformed onto Jason.  

Lucas seized the opening and pounced to the next platform before a whirlwind of air delayed his ascent once more.  His goal was just within his grasp.  

Kyle bolted with a faint trail of energy to the retreating Dewott and summoned a blue barrier against a storm of wind blades.  The shield flashed and chipped with each hit.  The onslaught refused to cease and surface-wide cracks soon formed across their protection that grew in size just as quickly.  

A fire burned within the Charizard’s jaws, and it reeled its head back.  

Lucas’s body and soul instantly acted on their own, and he already found himself summoning stars with a final leap to the summit.  In the surging and swirling air, his jump fell short.  His forepaws clung to the ledge, his claws desperately scraping at the stone, as his back legs scrambled for footing off the edge.  

At eye level, its red gaze locked with his faint purple one and time seemed to freeze.  

He felt the heat of the furnace that was the Charizard’s maw.  

He felt the pulse of the herb’s aura just within his reach tingle his very being.  Some evil part of him craved to take it for himself, swallow it whole and soothe his wounds to vanquish his pain.  

His vision shot to his brother and the Dewott.  Kyle called something out to him, indiscernible in this frozen moment.  Jason already held a raised paw with a golden glow bursting forth from the Orb and horror on his face.   

He felt his soul shake.  

“One day, you must stop pretending to be human...”

He poured everything he was into his paws.  With his lunge, time resumed.  

He sank his fangs deep into the herb, piercing its stem as a flood of magic poured out to the rest of his body.  The flame met him from his side, as did agony.  Yet it was already over as a golden beam of light enveloped him in an instant.  

“...and that day is fast approaching.”

Pain forced its way into every thought Lucas had.

The fur of his whole left side was charred and sparse, splotched with patches of exposed skin, and the noble sacrifice of his now incinerated satchel had done little to mitigate the damage.  The sting on his raw flesh was sharp and constant, intensified after a rinse from Jason made his wet fur cling to his open wounds.  The very act of breathing felt like it threatened to tear open a thousand gashes across his body.  He was worried each step forward actually did. 

The magic of his brother’s Wish and lended Heal Scarf coursed its way through his body and intertwined with the fleeting residue of the Herba Mystica.  It flared and sparked within him.  Each pulse of his heart and soul were a Thundershock, his internal system burning from the intensity of magic.  The rest of his healing was forced to come with time, and with it the pain would dull and die.  It was temporary though, and good deeds weren’t.  

Lucas made that fact a mental crutch.  

He had hoped for conversation to serve as another, but silence dominated the journey through the withered dungeon outskirts and on the road, and only the gentle rush of the river running beside the ancient dirt road seemed interested in contesting its reign.  

He had at least expected to enjoy a proper scolding from Kyle more than ever this time. All he was left to savor though was a lackluster reprimand that was over before he even realized he was facing it and a quiet cancellation of their evening spar, Kyle's ears deaf to his pitiful and pained protests.  Kyle was quiet afterward, and bore a face less emotive than even Lucas was used to, only offering an occasional pitying smile and a sturdy support for him to lean on when he needed it.  Was he busy chastising himself for not protecting him better?  Did he for once consider his choices to be “reasonable”?  Despite all this time, that face remained unreadable.  His own brother was an enigma to him.  

He stumbled and the ensuing sharp sear was kind enough to pull him out from that thought.  Kyle lended himself for support.

Jason halted.  He took in a deep breath, then turned halfway on his heel bearing a cold gaze.  “We risk night falling at this pace,” he spoke for the first time since receiving the bagged Herba Mystica he held tightly to his chest, “and I can’t have that.”  

“We agree on that at least,” Lucas spoke with a strain.  “I’ll get faster as I heal.”

It wasn’t until after a couple hours of walking that Jason spoke again, directing them with a low voice and half-hearted gesture down a narrow path branching off the road.  Nature was clearly winning its campaign to reclaim it, as weeds and patches of grass mobilized to make it barely distinguishable from the surrounding field, and the trampling traffic of paws and some sort of cart were hopeless to oust the occupation.  

After the path wound a bit, they mounted a small hill and revealed a quaint valley farm below them.  For a moment it felt like a time capsule to an era Lucas never knew.  At the heart of the scene was a warm two-story wooden farmhouse painted a light blue with a dark roof, clearly built long before his time.  To one of its sides was an unpainted wooden shed of crude but earnest construction with several silos behind it, and the other featured a small cluster of berry trees.  Surrounded by fields of hearty rice crop, their color decorated the sight like a patch of flowers in a field of grass.  A gentle stream glistened with the golden light of the sunset to complete the image.  It flowed through the farm and under a cute arched cobblestone bridge as it met the main path then continued its journey down to a small windmill at the edge of his vision and beyond.

He strained himself to savor the scene as best he could before the finer details of the faded and peeling paint of the buildings, cracked stones of the bridge, and half barren fields tarnished the memory forever.  

The door of the farmhouse swung open with a ferocity still audible from their distance and a Samurott galloped outside toward them.  They trekked steadily down the path, meeting her just before the stone bridge.  

She pulled the Dewott with her foreleg into an embrace that encompassed his whole body, tears welling in her eyes that Lucas couldn’t help but compare to the cracked Mystic Water dangling from her neck.  “Oh thank Arceus you’re alright!”  

Jason’s left arm gently rose to return the hug.  His expression was hidden, but his other arm loosened its grip on the bag for the first time since he received it, if only slightly.  In the silence, the moment almost felt calm and right.  

“Never do such a thing again…  Please…” 

Jason shoved himself away from her with a low growl, yet Lucas failed to sense malice in the action—though his tail and ears drooped regardless.  Jason’s gaze fell to his bag, clutching it tighter once more as he raised it to his chest.  “I got the Herba Mystica.”  

“Oh, Jason…” she smiled sadly.

The pup turned his back to her and faced the brothers with a puffed chest, crossed arms, and put on an expression so stern Lucas would have chuckled if Jason were but a few years younger. 

The Samurott’s attention collapsed all at once onto Lucas.  “My goodness!  Are you alright!?” She brought herself before him so fast that a childish part of him was convinced it was teleportation.  Lowering herself, she began inspecting the damage as frantically and carefully as she would her own pup.  He did his best to hush the hiss of pain forced from him.  “I can’t tell how deep the burn is, but the surface burn is pretty intense; a Rawst berry won’t be nearly enough by itself for this.  How did this happen?  Was it from a Pokémon?  The dungeon?  Did you—”  

“Mrs. Samurott,” Kyle called with a hint of concern.  

Her attention redirected, Lucas shook himself free despite the sting and took a step back.  “I’m fine!  I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine.  We’re tougher than we look.  I made it all the way here, didn’t I?  I’ll… I’ll heal…”

She backed away as well.  “I suppose…” she said, sounding unconvinced.  “My apologies…”  Pity and guilt were left unhidden on her face.

He sighed—he knew that expression.  She was a parent, a rural Pokémon, and lived in a town without explorers; he should have prepared himself better.  He glanced at Kyle and was unfortunately met with an affirming nod.  He hated doing the talking, but he bowed.  “Mrs. Samurott, the world is full of hardship and peril that must be braved.  It is our role as explorers then t—”  He cringed.  “...to take unto ourselves these tasks for those who cannot bear them themselves.  It is what we have chosen and trained for.  Please, worry not for us; the danger is why we are here.  We are always happy to help.”

His brother gave another nod while the Samurott paused.  She softened, but the portion of the expression that remained engraved itself more deeply on her face.  “You two really are heroes…”  It was an improvement, but less so than most had.  He couldn’t guess as to why.

Jason grumbled something about exploring the dungeon on his own.  No one engaged with his comment.  His eyes darted between those of the group, then he huffed and spoke once more.  “How much did you agree to pay them?” he asked, not facing his mother.    

“Yes, payment!  Please, name your price.  We don’t have much, but we will do our best to meet it—”

“You didn’t settle on a price!?” Jason blurted as he turned to her with a stomp.  “Do you want them to rob us!?”

“Well… no-I…,” she stuttered ashamedly before a sudden spirit of confidence overtook her.  “No.  There wasn’t enough time to negotiate.  You were in danger and I would gladly give up the last of our savings to have you out of it a moment sooner.”  

Jason shook and looked as furious as a Primeape on the verge of Evolution.  

“Jason, Mrs. Samurott,” Kyle interjected before Jason could make a mistake.  “We do this job to help people, not for our own sake.  Please, we only ask for what you can provide at minimal inconvenience to yourselves, even if it is simply a hot meal and a roof to sleep under for the night,” Kyle said with a bow.  

After a half moment Lucas realized his place in the conversation and endorsed the offer with a bow of his own.

Jason’s rage faded, but he held his silly sternness as he considered their request.  “That is… acceptable.” 

Mrs. Samurott breathed a sigh of relief.  “That is most kind of you.  Please, call me Grace,” she said, returning a practiced bow befitting her name.   

“We are Kyle and Lucas, and are truly grateful for your hospitality, Grace.”

“Lovely names those are.  Now, I can’t allow even heroes to track mud into my house,” she said with a smirk.  “I’ll pour some hot water for all of you.”  

“That sounds delightful.”  A genuine smile formed on Kyle’s face—Lucas felt a small one creep up on his own face.  A warm bath was a luxury they could rarely experience, and his aching muscles and burn were already anticipating it.  If only it could ease the tension of the room as well.

“You can do that while I gather some berries and prepare the medicine.”  Puffing himself up again, Jason stepped toward the brothers and pushed himself down a mere paw’s length from their faces.  “I want you gone at sunrise,” he demanded before turning away and off to the berry trees with unnatural haste and stiffness in his stride.  

“Be sure to pick an extra Rawst berry!” Grace called.  She held a longing glance, whispering a conflicted “thank you” before facing back toward them.  “I hope the young man at least thanked you earlier.”  

“I am certain he thanked us in his heart,” said Kyle, gentle as always.  

Lucas was unsure if he agreed.

“Please, forgive his rudeness.  He… believes he’s protecting us somehow,” said Grace.  

“The pup has a good spirit—you have raised him well in that regard.  It is understandable that it could come out in such a way given the times,” said Kyle.  

“It may even be good so long as he can get the strength and training to back it up,” Lucas chimed in.  “…And get past the pride.”  

Grace hesitated then spoke quietly.  “Yes, I wish he could get past that, too.”  

They let the conversation settle as they began their way down the path.  

Jason was already at the house.  He wiped his paws on the door mat before entering.  He exited with a frayed woven basket and without his bag, setting off to the berry trees.  

Kyle broke the short silence.  “Mt. Cinis Cavern was barren of items, exceedingly violent, and its expansion was evident to the naked eye, though I am certain you are already aware of at least that much.  It has undoubtedly turned feral, and my estimate is that the outskirts will fully consume your farm and town in only a year.  It is with a heavy heart that I suggest you begin making your preparations.  We will inform the others while we are in the village tomorrow.”  

Grace gave a heavy sigh.  “Then I suppose we cannot deny it any longer.  It really is time to leave.”  Her voice betrayed a burden laced within those simple words.  

Most didn’t take leaving their home or livelihood behind very well, but Lucas could tell there was more.  Her gaze seemed to instinctively fall to the centermost berry tree.  In contrast to its brethren that had herbs neatly planted around them, this Oran tree was decorated by a ring of vibrant deep-sea blue flowers, which its soil bore like a crown; its center jewel was a small patch of golden flowers.  The flowers and tree appeared to have been kept with the utmost care as they had not a weed in sight and thrived when even the crops struggled.  Its simplistic beauty matched the effort put into it.  Even still on the path, his nose could catch the blooming fragrance of the flowers and the tree’s fruit over the partially wilted rice that surrounded them.  The way Jason stepped over the flowers with delicacy typically reserved for handling religious artifacts or a newborn told Lucas all he needed to know.  This scene was wrong.  It was evil.  

A righteous hatred stirred within him.  

Jason tossed a scalchop up into the air and it masterfully sliced through the tips of several Oran berry stems in a single arc.  He caught the berries and his shell in a perfect pile in his arms and began transferring the fruit to the basket by his side. 

Lucas opened his mouth to offer a correction to his form but snapped it shut with a bit of shame upon realizing he had none to give.  

Grace guided them to the side of the house and pulled from the wall two impressive wooden tubs, each as tall as them and three times their width.  Planting herself, she angled her head and a silky stream of steaming water poured from her mouth, embodying the lovely visage of a fountain statue.  She cut the stream as the water reached half height for each and let them sit until the rising steam diminished to a gentle mist.  The air grew sticky, but smelt pure as ever.  

Jason was first—Lucas had to help Kyle undo his satchel anyways.  Having food to prepare, Jason gave himself a simple rinse and scrubbed each part of himself only twice.  Evidentially, he deemed removing half of the dirt matted into his fur sufficient and jogged inside after a mere shake of his coat.  After replacing the used water of the tub and ensuring he and Kyle were comfortable, Grace followed inside.  

Indeed, the water was as pleasant as his body had hoped.  

Strains and aches alike melted into the water—though his wound obviously declined to dissolve as well—along with the grime and muck that were persistent enough to endure his initial wash and travel.  With upturned expressions, they did their best to embrace the moment and pick themselves free of filth and mats embedded in the roots of their coats.  It was undoubtedly the most pleasant opportunity they’d get to do so for several months.  Under the golden gleam of the setting sun, he dared believe his magnificent mane would look better than it had in just as much time so long as he ignored that some of one side’s length was now scattered ashes.  

The only disappointment was the sealing spell that had surely somehow been cast on his brother’s lips, disinterested in reciprocating any teasing he gave on the Delcatty-like delicacy Kyle cleaned himself with or even sustaining a conversation on the warm water.  

Kyle’s soft smile instead chose to fall to that dreadful dull face again.  

Lucas clenched, but the water drowned the screech of scraping claws.  

The door creaked just as the sun fell halfway below the horizon, and Grace delivered for them both the message that dinner was ready and a brown rag with several old tears sewn up.  They made certain to dry their coats until they were properly fluffed before entering.  

The interior of the house was much the same as the outside, exuding an aura of both warmth and decay.  

Lakes of bare wood hungered for a fresh coat of white paint instead of meals of varnish, but at least it would still match the color of the floorboards once they became seas… or at least the old boards.  The new planks were already creaking.  

The furniture seemed inclined to share their own legacies.  To his left was the kitchen with cabinets that were little more than glorified wood rectangles with handles, yet they were full of youth and looked like they would swing open with ease.  The bookshelf that marked the boundary to the living room possessed a frame that curved elegantly, proudly proclaiming its old-world construction in spite of the aged dry wood that filled Lucas’s ears with imaginary snapping.  

The living room was bare of its comforts though.  He turned past the stairs to the right where he found them at the dining table, which had amateurish carvings of Samurott swords for legs.  Violet, soft pink, and Oshawatt-blue cushioned seats with a shared embroidery style sat unsure of themselves at the table as well as within the larger household—the last one’s appropriateness was undoubtedly responsible for the others’ presence.  More fitted though were the large old marine mat that accompanied the blue seat’s side and a faded gold one laid at the head of the table with unraveled ends.  

Lucas automatically lept to the purple cushion and pawed at its texture before remembering his brother.  Kyle dropped his satchel by the front door with a half joking scoff of betrayal then shook his head, taking his place upon the pretty pink one.  

“I think it suits you,” Lucas said with an unrestrained cheeky smile.  

“Quiet.”

Above the table now, he could finally see the source of the scent that had been tickling his nostrils since he entered.  It was a standard soup of crushed Oran berries simmered in a broth and of unremarkable presentation, with the only visual flavor being the diced chunks of Rawst berry in the bowl before him—he seemed to have guessed his seat correctly—and finely cut flakes of green in the bowl opposite to him.  He couldn't tell if the faint thrum of the herb's magic that pricked and called him was real.  

Grace took her seat on the blue mat just as the floor upstairs creaked rhythmically.  Jason descended down the stairs, careful to avoid quick or sudden movement, with a young Oshawatt wearing a simple plain scarf snuggled to his chest.  

“We’re here,” he whispered to the Oshawatt as he rested her on her seat with a pet.  Her cheeks were so scarlet one would doubt she wasn't a Fire-Type.  

She stirred at the sight of them and her half-lidded eyes lifted to three-quarters open.  “Oh… hi.”  She gave a weak wave.  “Mama, who’re they?”

“Susie, this is Kyle and Lucas.  They are friends we’re having over for dinner.”  Grace paused.  “They helped us out quite a bit today,” she said with a strain everyone hoped was undetectable to the child.  

“Oh-okay…” slurred Susie.  

“Here, why don’t you start eating?” asked Jason as he made his place on the golden mat, forced to stand to keep his shoulders above the table.  The fact that the mat was undeniably older than him won a wince from Lucas.  

Susie reached for her scalchop before being silently corrected by Grace to use her spoon.  

“It tastes weird.”  

“I found something special today.  It’s called an Herba Mystica, and I added it to your soup.  It’s gonna make you feel alllll better, so make sure to eat it all up, alright?” said Jason. 

Stolen valor was among the highest crimes for explorers, yet Lucas found he couldn't muster a will to oppose the crime here.  Neither could Kyle.  Jason needed to be her hero.  

“Okay…”

Lucas and Kyle took it as a cue and began eating as well.  

The soup was acceptable.  Lucas was certainly no cook, but a sprinkle of salt and spices, a blend of vegetables, and overall slower cooking would have done wonders for it.  Regardless, his fondness of Oran’s signature and familiar flavor defeated the blandness and his personal distaste for the more bitter berry served in his bowl; it was a shame that Kyle was the one who liked bitter food.  Still, Eevee were carnivores and nothing farmed could compare for either of them to fresh game from a dungeon—not that he had the right to dream of more from this family than the easy meal he was lapping up.  

“This is delightful,” lied Kyle.  “Thank you, you two.”  

“Oh— Um, thank you.  We were short on time so we couldn’t make it according to the family recipe, but I’m glad you still like it.”  Grace gave a stressed and perplexed chuckle.  

Jason glared at Lucas and Kyle.  

“How is farming?” Kyle asked with a smile.  “We have hunted our whole lives and we hardly receive requests from farmers.  We have not the faintest clue as to what it is like.”  

“Oh… Well, it’s difficult work.  This land was passed to us from my parents, and I was accordingly taught by them—”

Lucas’s attention broke.  Wasn't the Samurott Evolution line primarily carnivorous as well?  He studied the family once more.  Grace’s shell was chipped and brittle before her time, and she was more slender than was right for either a proud warrior species or a farmer.  Both hers and Jason’s coats were dulled from more than dust and dirt, and their species’ renowned deep-sea blue lacked its royalty tone.  In this regard, Susie looked the healthiest.  

The details had escaped him before, but he knew nothing could make them leave now.

His stomach tingled, then his side seared once more as his body began weaving his meal in with its restorative efforts.  

As perilous and arduous of a lifestyle as exploring was, it came with undeniable benefits.  He couldn’t imagine doing any other line of work.  He knew his own life was set.  

“You are blessed, and blessings bring the curse of duty.  In time you must learn to love both.”  

Jason, Grace, and Susie… He pitied them.  

There were monsters in this world of all kinds—far more than he thought possible as a kit.  Some lurked in dungeons for their meals, brandishing claws and powers few could hope to match.  Others wore disguises and roamed freely in and out of towns and along roads wielding deceit as their weapon.  Still more were insidious things that wielded venom and fear, yet hid out of sight and mind until they found their chance to pounce and inflict their bane.

That then was their purpose: to fight these monsters as best they could.  But for those who cannot help themselves—for Jason, Grace, and Susie—what comes after they take their leave?  Fewer now than ever shared their purpose, and the monsters were unending and relentless with eternally growling bellies.  No answer was needed, for a still bloodied maw said all.  But there were beasts that were worse still—monsters that no one could fight against, that left all stricken powerless, stalked as prey to the very ends of the Earth.  He and his brother knew that truth more than anyone else.  For them, what more could be done than pray?  All of it was evil.  

It boiled his blood more than any flame ever could.  

“Lucas?”

Reality struck him like the Giga Impact of a Snorlax.  He jolted, splayed his stance, and summoned his magic. 

“Lucas, are you alright?”  Kyle and the others stared with polite concern ridden on their faces, save for Jason whose suspicion broke to a simple raised eyebrow.  

He regulated his breathing, quelled the glow of his mane, and plucked his claws from the cushion.  Blood flooded his cheeks, but he struck down the overwhelming urge to shrink like a Wimpod.  “Oh, um, sorry.  No, I’m good.  I just got lost in thought there and was startled.  Please, continue,” he said, then failed a smile before concealing it with a rushed return to his soup.  He strained his tail and ears to relax yet not droop.  He prayed that they would forgive it as instinct.  

He glanced to his side as Kyle hummed, feigning satisfaction.  He could never hide anything from Kyle; a talk was inevitable.

“Uh oh,” Susie thankfully stole the table’s attention, looking down at a splotch of soup on her chest.  Her slouch had vanished, her cheeks could’ve been confused for a blush, and she already took initiative in dabbing herself clean with a napkin.  Her eyes were nearly as wide as her family’s were at the sight.  Even her tail wagged with life as Jason reached over to help, thanking him with a bright smile.  

Once he finished helping her, Jason placed a hand on her forehead and recoiled as if he touched a Pikachu’s cheeks.  Mouth agape, he tested her once again until it turned into a gentle pet.  

“What… what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, Dewdrop.”  A gentle curve dared to form on his mouth and above his eyes.  “Are… you feeling better?”

“Hm…”  She paused and closed her eyes as if she were pondering a great mystery of life.  Her eyes shot open and she was invigorated with life once more.  “Yeah!  Yeah-yeah!”  

She lunged at him with a hug great enough to earn an “oomph.”  “Thanks, Jason!”

Jason hesitated, then brought her even closer to himself.  “Always…”

Yes, this was why they were explorers; this was their purpose.  Lucas loved it.  At least one monster was slain today.  That was something they could be proud of.

A small smile crept to Kyle’s face and his tail even flicked at the scene.  Both stiffened just before he caught Kyle’s gaze sneak to meet him.  

Lucas instantly returned his stare to the family.  

Grace’s eyes watered and she began sputtering, but found her mouth locked tight upon a teeth barred glare Jason gave her behind Susie’s distracted and confused gaze.  She silently bowed at Lucas and Kyle so deeply she nearly hit the table.  They accepted it with a bow of their own.

“Why…” she started with a soft and wavered voice, only meeting their gazes with glances.  “Why don’t you two tell us about yourselves?  It’s not every day that we get to speak to explorers.”  

Soft scurrying and “splat” of hands pressed on the table cut Kyle’s response.  “You guys are explorers!?”  

Kyle smiled and shifted his speech to a lighter voice for the young Oshawott.  “Indeed we are.  We come from far away lands to fight dangerous monsters and help all kinds of Pokémon in any way we can.”  

“That’s so cool!”  Susie’s eyes were glittering stars, and her tail wagged utterly untamed.  “Will you save the world?  Like in Mama’s stories?”

There was cluttering of silverware as Grace and Jason straightened and their eyes shot toward her.

Kyle tilted his head with an unchanged face.  “...Pardon?”  

“Yeah!  In Mama’s stories, explorers go on biiig quests to save the world,” she said, spreading her hands wide enough to graze her mother.  “I love those stories!  My favorite was the one where they helped Dialga!  Though I still don’t understand some parts, like when they—”

“Er, Susie,” Grace wearily forced her voice over her daughter’s.  “The explorers in those stories were specifically humans and their partners.”  

“Oh…” she quieted, pondering another mystery once more.  “Well, are you human?  That’d be awesome!  I-”

“Susie,” Grace's voice flinched the Oshawatt, “that’s enough.”

“Oh…”

Grace turned back at them, and an apology was already nearly spilling from her tongue for her daughter’s words.  

“No,” some part of Lucas forced an answer.  “I’m sorry, we aren’t that type of explorers.  We’re just regular Pokémon.”

Grace’s eyes darted lowly for a moment, then she spoke with a warm smile.  “You sell yourself short.  I hardly think explorers are just normal Pokémon.  Few Pokémon can survive a dungeon—fewer still could go so deep, especially un-Evolved and still barely young men.”  

Lucas wished that still wasn’t considered special.  He needn’t look to know Jason’s expression.  

“Why…” she said, glancing at her daughter, “that sounds quite like humans.  You have come from Arceus, at least in my eyes.”

“T-thank you,” Lucas said as he gave a similarly stuttered nod, unsure if his acceptance was blasphemous.  

“Grace, you flatter us… truly,” Kyle said, but withheld his gaze.  “No, we simply… learned from the best.”  

Lucas’s breath hitched, and his ears and tail fell before he could even resist.

“Who was your master then?  Such a remarkable teacher deserves praise as well.  Please, I must know,” she chuckled.  

Kyle simply turned to his brother in silence.  His face was a tender and gentle question.  If the gap between them were a bit closer, he’d be offering him his paw.  

Kyle gave him the choice.  He didn’t have to speak if he didn’t want to.

Grace’s eyes bounced between them for a moment, then her expression collapsed and was consumed by guilt.  “I-I apologize—it’s not my p-place.  If I—” 

“Andrew the Umbreon and Lily the Espeon,” Lucas pushed out his words with pressed eyes, “...our parents.”  

An empty silence spread across the dining room.  

Grace kept her head down as did her daughter, while Kyle sat with his eyes closed, motionless and expressionless.  

Lucas’s gaze met Jason’s.  Gone was his furrowed brow and scowl of suspicion.  Gone was his sneer and prideful pout.  In their place was something new.  It was honest, sincere—it was empathy and a question.  

Lucas offered the Dewott a knowing look, with a small smile and nod.  Yes, they were the same in this.  

Jason recoiled, and Lucas caught water in his eyes before the pup pulled his gaze away down to the gold mat beneath him and then to his sister.  

Her vigor was absent now, but her rosy cheeks had finally left her as well, faded entirely to the freckled snow white she deserved to have.  

With a final look at both him and Kyle, Jason threw his head into his hands without making a sound.  Jason’s breath wavered and let loose a whisper Lucas knew only his sharp ears could make out, “I’m no hero…”

Lucas curled his tail underneath him.  He shouldn’t have said that.  

“My condolences,” said Grace.  

“That’s sad…” Susie said with blunt earnestness.  

“Thank you,” accepted Kyle. 

Jason pushed himself from the table and hid his face from them all with a swift turn.  “It’s already late.  I’ll get started on making their beds.”  His voice was forced to be flat.  His head stuttered to the side but failed to meet his sister or mother.  “Grace, make sure Susie gets to bed early.  Please… take care of her, will you?”  

“Sweety, you don’t have to…” she let her words trail off as her son had already whisked himself out the door.  

Jason’s bowl was only half empty.  

The rest of dinner was quiet and anything but peaceful.  

Nightfall came, but the moon was still yet to rise as the front door creaked open once more.  With Susie clinging to her leg waving them “goodnight,” Grace gifted them one final muted thanks as Jason held the door, giving neither glance nor word to anyone.  He hung his head low and twiddled his fingers—unrecognizable as the Dewott they met today—as he guided them around the house to the crude wood shed.  

Jason unhooked the rusted latch and revealed it as a toolshed.  A myriad of tools from rakes to shears to chisels with wear and age only earned with fine craftsmanship hung on racks or notches while a few laid strewn to the sides on the dirt floor.  Those were clearly set aside for tonight.  On the opposite end were two homely straw nests with a small marine-colored cloth draped over each.  Beams of light gleamed through the a cross-shaped glassless window above the beds, comfortably illuminating the room enough for the brothers' night vision.  

“This is where you’ll be staying,” Jason said with a dead voice. 

Lucas understood.  Even the most charitable of clients hesitated to let strangers spend the night in their own abode.  

The roar of the wind and the rattle of the shed filled the air of the night.  The walls of nailed wood boards provided no protection from the bite of the cold night, but it spared them from the wind’s chill.  It was already an upgrade to the stone bed of a cave floor or grime of a burrow, but with their coats and beds for warmth, the word “pleasant” even came to mind.  Though his wound had long scabbed by now and ceased to steal cries and flinches from him, his body released a sigh with the relief it wouldn’t be poked or scraped by raw straw.  

Kyle trotted to their beds and plopped his satchel from his mouth at their side.  “These are excellent,” he smiled as he curled up into one.  “Thank you for the blankets as well.  That is quite kind of you, Jason.”

Jason noised some unflattering crossbreed of a groan and a whine as he shifted himself to the door.  “I-if you wish…” his voice quivered.  He refused to raise his face from the floor.  “You may stay for breakfast tomorrow.  Thank you… for today.”

“Jason, wait—” Lucas’s paw and voice reached out on their own but were silenced by a soft slam and click.  Dust drifted and swirled as the shed shook, unmissable thanks to the light of the window.  The pup locked himself out.  

With only Kyle as an audience, he allowed himself to be crestfallen as he curled in his own bed.  

Kyle repositioned himself and straightened to meet him.  “It is something with him, is it not?”  

Lucas held his tongue, simply choosing to breathe.  

To his credit, Kyle obliged the moment of respite before speaking.  “You look at him, then your thoughts wander and settle in places that hurt you.”

Lucas’s eyes fell to the door.  “I don’t think they will be alright.”  

Kyle hummed calmly.  “Go on.”  

“What happens once we leave?  We helped them today—thank Arceus we did—but that won’t help them with what is to come.  Their dungeon will die and drag everything around it to the same fate—they’re not prepared to build new lives for themselves.  They’ll still be vulnerable to bandits more than ever, too.  Everyone goes through it, but they can’t even take care of themselves anymore.  You’re smarter than me, I know you’ve seen it.  We both know what they’re going through right now.”

“You underestimate yourself, but yes.  I have seen it.”  Kyle gave a gentle nod.  

“I just… we should be doing more for them.  We can’t leave them like this.  Maybe we can stay in town for a little while longer and help them—help everyone—organize and prepare, and perhaps train them a bit.  Maybe things would be better off for them.”  

“Ah, there it is.  You have let your emotions take hold of you once again.  Lucas, we are explorers.  Our duty and talent lies in helping as many people and towns with quests and reports as we can.  It is up to a town’s leaders to handle their own area of expertise, and it is not right to sacrifice our purpose elsewhere to help guard a single group against ‘what ifs.’  It is tough out there, and it is our job to help however we can—not how we wish we could.”

Lucas sunk further into his nest with a whine.

“But…”  Kyle’s tone earned a perk from Lucas.  “If Jason will accept it, we can see to teaching them what we can before we depart.”  

“Thank you…”  Lucas smiled with a stir in his tail.  

“There is more that bothers you though.”  

Lucas stilled and nearly bit his tongue.  “You know me too well,” he said with a wavered chuckle.  

“How could I not?  We are brothers.”  Kyle’s words stung Lucas like a claw to his chest. 

“Do our efforts even matter?  With the crisis, I mean.  The dungeons are going feral, and meat and resources are becoming impossible to get, as are items—and who knows how much of the world will even still be habitable by time we’re grown.  Kyle, the world is dying.  Save and help people as we may, we aren’t doing anything to stop it.  We aren’t even delaying the inevitable.”  He met his brother’s attentive and gentle eyes with a plea.  “I-I feel like Jason… I feel helpless in all this.”  

Kyle’s eyes narrowed and he sighed.  “If this is about Father and Mother, then—”

“No.”  Lucas shot up, claws buried in the cloth and straw.  He breathed, and his eyes fell to the dirt floor.  “No, it’s not.”  

“Is that so?” Kyle asked, already knowing the answer.  

“I-I don’t want to talk about them.”  Lucas mustered another pitiful look to him.  “Please?”

Kyle sighed again. “You will have to talk about it eventually.  I am proud of you for tonight.”  

Lucas retreated himself.

“In any case, we are doing plenty,” he said as he also stood.  “Lucas, we saved two lives today—you saved Susie.  Would you have Grace grieve yet another tonight?  Could you live with yourself if we left that pack of Lycanroc to die in Forethorn Dungeon in pursuit of their next meal?  Do you regret driving out Chandelure and his gang of Litwicks from Wittleburrow?”

“No…”

“Lucas, look at me.”  Kyle placed his paws on Lucas’s shoulders.  His purple eyes were alive with his love.  “Then we do matter, and you know it.  What we do may not be the ‘end-all’ solution we both wish it were, but that is beyond us and does not diminish our value.  We are doing all we can, and that is all we must do.  That is what we must focus on.  It is not our burden to save the world, that is—” 

“The human’s job.  I know.”  

“If you really feel like Jason, then think of the human as what we were to Jason—he and his partner will be our ‘explorers.’  Lucas, the world is full of hardship and peril that must be braved.  It is his role as human then to take unto himself these tasks for those who cannot bear them themselves.  It is what he has been chosen and trained for.  We have our own responsibilities, like Jason, while the human has his.  Find your hope and ease your worry in that,” Kyle finished with a pat and smile.  

Lucas shuddered.  So much of him yearned to leave their talk at that, and he knew he could.  He wished to sleep tonight, to dream of sparkling stars, life-changing landscapes, and deeds done well, then settle in for another day—his brother victorious against yet another evil thought of his.  He’d dream of fire and blood; black and velvet.  He pulled Kyle off of him.  “That’s just it though: he isn’t like an explorer.  An explorer is a strong Pokémon who has trained to take on his mantle of duty.  The human is a sent savior.  He isn’t even one of us!  With explorers you can seek them and put your paws to use to find your aid; for the human, you pray.  You wait.  Helpless.”  

Lucas ground his fangs and rumbled a growl.  “Lighting strikes a house—a town—on a dry day.  You find a Water-Type to fight the fire, someone who can call clouds, or a Rainy Orb even.  You can’t sit for rain, leave yourself with whatever the flame spares!  Yet Arceus says we sit, we wait.”  Lucas bit his tongue and tasted iron.  “Why doesn’t He save us Himself?  Does He want the flame to consume His world?  What if He decides not to send rain this time?  What if He finally wants to see it all turn to ash?  After all… isn’t He the arsonist?”  He paused.  “Consider what the Samurott family would be left with if we came a moment later.  I can’t have that.”  

Kyle studied him with a cold face and still eyes.  “Your prose can only get you so far in a debate, Lucas.  Truth will triumph.”  Kyle’s frame stood stiff.  “Arceus sends no ‘lightning.’  Have you forgotten the causes of the previous crises?  Our time will be another tale, and we will rebuild so long as we do our part.  A human and partner have always appeared in our time of need—we have no reason to believe this time will be any different.  If you cannot find faith in Him though, trust the confidence of Father and Mother.”  

Lucas scoffed and every limb of his tiny form shook down to their individual fibers.  “Is that how you sleep so well?  You tell yourself that things will get worse?  The human isn’t supposed to be sent half a century after the calamity falls upon us.  Things have been lost that won’t come back, that can’t be rebuilt.  Was it not the people’s hour of need when New Treasure Town collapsed?  Was it not Jason’s hour of need as his dad died before him!?  Was OUR moment of need not—”

“Two years ago,” Kyle finished.  

The drip of water was the only living sound, and he was powerless to stop it.  “...I can’t be helpless again.”

Lucas could feel even his soul reciprocate Kyle’s embrace.  Lucas allowed his eyes to stream into his brother’s mane as Kyle stroked his fur with the gentleness of a Blissey.  

“They made their choice with pride and without a drop of regret or hesitation.  They would be more proud of us than you can possibly imagine,” Kyle whispered.  

“We deserve an answer,” Lucas sniffled out.  

“Perhaps we do.”  

“I hate Him.  And I hate the human.”  

“I know, Lucas,” Kyle hushed.  “I know.”

It was just the two of them in this good moment, holding each other tight.  

They were together for an unknowable time until Lunala’s Light gleamed onto their coats with a tingle.

“How about we go outside and stargaze for a bit?  Does that sound nice?”

Lucas nodded with his face still tucked in his brother’s fur.  

Kyle gave him a final pet as he pulled away with the speed of a Slowpoke, as if he thought his brother would shatter before his eyes from any jolt or sudden movement.  He unlocked the door and they stepped into the clear cool night.  

With closed lids and clear mind Lucas breathed deep the fresh air swirling in the breeze.  The magic of the moonlight tickled his being.  All Pokémon felt it, but he was more sensitive to it as an Eevee than most species.  Few could pick the heaven-sent magic from the life that permeated the fabric of the world, and fewer still could distinguish between Solgaleo and Lunala’s Light.  Their sensitivity was the Eeveelution’s pride, after all.  Indeed, he was proud of it too—he’d be forced to relinquish the right to call himself an Eevee if he wasn’t.  

Yet… Dad… spoke of a gentle prick at his soul before he was ready to Evolve.  He said the Light poked and prodded for an opening in his soul to seep itself into.  Mom… described it as a gentle knocking at the door one felt compelled to answer.  Lucas never quite felt that prick or heard that knock, neither in the moonlight nor sunlight.  He did not know why.  Considering that he already knew his brother’s choice, always aspiring to be like Dad, he suspected that he felt nothing either.  Lucas wondered if they’d finally hear that call if they touched an Evolution stone; not that they were likely to find such rare items.  

A tap on his paw awoke him from his thoughts and met him with his brother’s smile.  

They strolled down the path to the small arched bridge and sat, paws resting just at its edge.  

He let the trickling ripple of the tiny river, the rustle of the rice crop, the woosh of the wind, and the breath of his brother fill his ears and soul as he gazed up.  

It was lovely.  His tail swung freely behind him, and he didn’t mind when it brushed against his brother’s.

A piece of him lied that he should be ashamed and slink to his bed and prepare himself for the next day, especially with his burn still persisting.  Other parts of him stung more than it though.  This was the rest he needed tonight, and it was one he rarely got.  

They hardly did this anymore, did they?  The stars sparkled above him.  

“One day, you must stop pretending to be human, and that day is fast approaching.”

“Kyle, do you remember how we sparred with… Dad and Mom… while we were still kits?”  

Kyle tilted his head to him before giving a great smile that proclaimed the pride he had in his brother.  “Of course.  Our time with them is something neither of us will forget.”  

“We pretended to be a human and his partner as we did.  Every night.  Every session. ”

“I believe only you ever played the role of the human himself.  I was always your partner,” corrected Kyle.  

“What, are you still jealous?” Lucas teased and chuckled 

“No,” he answered bluntly.  “I never needed to be him.” 

Lucas laughed.  “That sounds about right for you.”  

They paused.  

“Dad and Mom were the vicious monsters terrorizing townsfolk or lurking in dungeons.  Maybe they were some simple wild Pokémon, or maybe they were a pair of mean Tyranitar rampaging for new territory because their dungeon turned feral.  Whatever it was though, ‘Team Star Mane’ was always to the rescue!”  Lucas pumped his paw into the night sky with every ounce of dramatic flair he had in him.  He sat himself back down and shook his head.  “Oh boy, what a name.”  

Kyle sat with a full smile, quiet save for a small stifled laugh.  

“Then, as often as we could, we would all sit on a hill or in a clearing and look up.  Just like now.  It was nice then, too.”  Lucas’s smile faded until it finally fell.  “It was simpler back then.”  

“It always is.  That is life,” Kyle spoke with closed eyes.  

“Things were better back then.”  

“Yes.”  

Lucas lifted his gaze back up to the stars.  A distant one, yet what seemed to be the brightest in the whole expanse, caught his eye as it twinkled.  “What if… we could be human?”

Kyle’s tail stopped and his stance went stiff.  He snapped to face him with an expression that was just as flat and cold, save for darting eyes that betrayed a whirl of thought behind them.  

Lucas thought even nature around him froze.  He felt the chill of the night air bite through his fur the first time that evening. 

Before the silence settled, Kyle formed a smirk before bursting into a hearty laugh.  “What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I don’t mean literally!” Lucas pouted indignantly.  “I mean, what if we could play his role ourselves!?”  

“Oh, Arceus, I am shocked we have yet been smited!  Are you unwell?  Did Jason slip an OrEn berry into your soup?  Lucas, we are just normal Pokémon.  The human and his partner are said to have competed with legendaries— hup!”  Kyle raised a paw against Lucas’s already open mouth.  “...With greater legendaries, not just the lesser ones that even Father and Mother occasionally met.  For all our strength, we will never compare to that.  Today you were nearly cooked to a fried Rattata by a wild Pokémon,” he added, playfully and lightly brushing his wound to make a point.  “I suspect our fates would be less than ash against the threats of the crisis.”  

Lucas drew back from Kyle’s paw and gave a faint hiss, but not from any pain.  “We could make up for it!  We could be smarter, more strategic, and have better preparation!  If it isn’t yet our ‘hour of need’ as you claim…” Lucas spouted, minding not the venom laced in those specific words, “then the threat is still developing!  If we act soon, whatever we may face may not have grown to even need a human yet!”  

“Lucas, listen to yourself…”  Kyle’s smile was a grimace, yet he continued to float a tone of humor in his voice.  “You told Jason in the dungeon that he was not sufficiently strong or trained to be the hero he believed he must be with his life.  Your own words have already betrayed your goal.  Are we exempt from such reasoning?”  

Lucas winced, and hid himself.  He did, didn’t he?  He shouldn’t have said that.  

“And what of the ‘gifts’?  The humans and their partners have always been gifted things for their quest, such as visions, keys, or immunities.  We possess nothing of the sort.”  Kyle let out a strained laugh and the air settled to silence once more.  

Lucas had no argument, no retort, nor even a quip.  He was wordless.  He opened his mouth, hoping and praying some words would sound from it on their own.  Something must come out.  

Only dead air left it.  

Kyle was truly right, as he always was.  

The wind swept through the field and pierced its fangs through his coat again. 

Lucas lifted himself and fixed on the twinkling star once more.  

He pressed his eyes tight.  He remembered the forgotten kisses of Mom.  He felt the pads of Dad’s paw pressed into his as he was held.  He missed the laughs they shared as they told them tales of their old adventures.  He wished he could, for just one last time, see the way their faces beamed with pride and joy after he and his brother completed a quest.  He could never again snuggle with them to sleep under the starlight.  

He couldn’t be helpless.  

“I… still have you though…” he whispered into the night sky.  “Maybe that’ll be enough…”

Kyle staggered back a step, nearly off the bridge.  His face finally fell to a frown.  “You are serious about this…”  

“...You thought I wasn’t?” Lucas asked with a hushed voice.

Lucas was met with that face yet again.  It was emotionless, void of life and impenetrable to any plea he could give with his own.  Even his violet eyes were frozen this time, yet they still peered into him in a way he could never return or fight against.  

Where was his brother?  The one that fought by his side, that held him this very night.  Was that even him?  Then, where was the one he once played with?  The one that once snuggled with him, and Dad and Mom, under starlight?  Where did he go?  Was his brother in that empty, cold face?  Why wasn’t he out here?  

Did he really lose the real Kyle that day, too?  

Lucas hated that face.  He hated that evil with every bit of his soul.  

Kyle twitched.  Lucas caught his lips curl down again just as he flicked his face away.  

It was only then Lucas realized his fangs were barred and he was splayed to pounce.  He looked down at the worn cobblestone ashamed.  “I’m sorry…”  

There was a deep breath from Kyle, and Lucas slowly lifted his head back up.  Kyle bore a worn half-curved smile with raised brows.  

Lucas no longer knew what was in front of him, but there was a wisp of life—of his brother—in it.  He could hold onto that.  He had to hold onto it.  

“Alright,” Kyle spoke as he transitioned to a relaxed sit.  “How do you suggest we ‘be human’?”

“Wha— Huh?” Lucas sputtered.  He thought he may even trip over his own words physically.  Was this his brother?  

“You speak as if ‘playing the human’s role’ was as clear and straightforward as a quest to bring a doctor five pecha berries.  Come on, Lucas, break down where we should start.”  

“Well, uh, first, we should understand the crisis.”

“Good.”  Kyle nodded and gestured with his paw for him to continue.  “Explain the crisis to me.”  

“Um, for over half a century, dungeons across every corner of the world have steadily grown more aggressive, clever, and manifest fewer items until they fully turn into what we now call ‘feral dungeons.’  They expand rapidly and wither the world they once blessed with life, and now only a fraction of the world is habitable. ”

“Now, what do we know, and how can we learn more?”  

“Well, with no other disturbance to the balance of the Earth, it isn’t a symptom of a greater calamity at least.  We… wouldn’t be standing here if it were.  Our only clues are what it’s not.  Erratic Mysteriosity can't explain the dungeon’s behavior or endless growth, and from what… Dad and Mom…”  He still cringed, but his resolve was more fortified than ever.  “...said of their adventures and research, there was no pattern to the crisis and nothing like this has been recorded before.  That means, after millions of years, something fundamental has changed with the dungeons.  They aren’t scared or controlled.  They have simply turned malevolent.  They want everything dead.”  

“So that means…” Kyle began for Lucas.  

“…We scour for all known dungeon lore from books, reports, religious leaders, and anything else.  Or, if we must…” he trailed with a gulp.  “We could ask a greater legendary about the crisis, which is… a quest great enough to enshrine us as legends ourselves.  If we find what makes a dungeon a dungeon… if we find out has changed… we might achieve something…  Then, we stand and fight whatever threats we are met with as best we can…” Lucas’s muzzle was a weak curl, “fight, just as we were taught to do.”  

Kyle strutted closer to Lucas, a playful and determined smirk on his face.  He pressed his paw on Lucas’s.  “Lucas, this could be the worst decision of our lives.  Are you prepared for that?”  

“It could also be the best.”  He matched his brother’s expression.  “As long as it’s with you, I’ll take that chance!”

“Then that settles it.  While we are in town, we will also ask around about anything we could investigate.”  

“Really?”  Lucas’s tail practically wagged as fast a Talonflame could fly.  

“Really.  Well… after we give the Samurott family a few lessons, that is,” Kyle said with a pat and ruffle of his fur.  

A warm smile came to Lucas’s muzzle.  “Thank you.” 

“Now, we should go back inside.  We have a long day ahead of us.”

Lucas began to bound back down the path before realizing his brother was absent from his side.  He turned on his paws and caught a glimpse of Kyle’s fallen face before it warmed back to a smile in an instant.

“I love you, Lucas… Never forget, no matter what happens or where we go… no matter how much the shadows grow… I will always be with you.  I will always be there for you.  I promise.”  There was a strain to his voice.  

It was sorrow… fear… resignation…  

The endearment in his large eyes was greater than he had seen in a long time, but it was also mixed with a quiet plea that he didn’t believe Kyle intended to show.  It was genuine though, perhaps the most it had ever been.  He didn’t know what it meant.  It didn’t really matter.  So long as they were together—so long as he had his brother—things would turn out alright.  They surely must.  

“...I love you, too.”  

Lucas gazed up.  The light of the stars still sparkled, the heavens shining down upon them.  

He offered the wind a whisper.  “Forgive us, Mom… Dad… Just let us play a little longer.”