Welcome to the Pokémon World! - Now with 20% more Legends! (Whether you like it or not) (Pokemon SI/Isekai)

[A Cat With a Quill]

Cover art by Pinkmomo on Vgen.​

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The car trudged on the asphalt, the wheels turning endlessly on the road to the life humans had built, the civilization they had borne with their hands… Fine, maybe not so poetic, but Dylan was bored out of his mind; he had a three-hour trip to a warehouse because his boss wouldn't do it himself. The lazy bastard had dropped the news on him the day before. Three hours there and three hours back for a grand total of six hours, in which the most interesting thing would be the trees.

And all that for just a few hard drives that his stuck-up boss insisted couldn't be delivered by mail, as any normal, sensible person would think of doing first. Really, why send someone when you can pay a company to do that? Someone who makes his employee pay for the gas to save money—that's who!

Well, at least he got to get away from the city for a while and enjoy the smogless roads. That was always a plus in his eyes.

Ugh, I should never have moved into the city. Land of opportunity, hah!

He kept thinking of finding a new job until he realized the pay was decent enough, and he didn't want the trouble of going through another bunch of interviews. That had not been fun times for him. The drudgery of the day-to-day had been steadily getting to him throughout the time it had taken him to grow accustomed to the never-ending paperwork, and the reality of that being his life for the foreseeable future was only getting to him a bit.

With no other option, Dylan continued to drive past the trees, his mind wandering on its own as it tried to divide its attention between something that would not kill his brain and paying attention to the road.

He heard a thud in the distance, the sound of rocks sliding, the only noise that was different from that of passing cars and rustling trees. His head managed to register it for a moment before his car was thrown away, the wall of rock that he had passed impacting it and sending it flying down a chasm below.

The car spun in midair as the seatbelt did its best effort to keep him from flying out of it and into the ground. He could hear the strain of the material as clear as water, despite his thumping heart drowning all other sounds as he fell and fell. Shards of glass passed him, leaving his windshield in complete tatters, the air outside whistling past.

The car crashed into something, and he heard a terrible crunching sound, just before green flooded his vision, and he was face to face with the remains of a fallen tree entering his windshield.

He couldn't feel anything at all; he couldn't move, and he didn't feel any pain.

The branches extended past his vision, and he could see red begin to seep onto the dashboard. He could not move any part of his body.

I am going to die. That was the conclusion he reached after a minute of just staring uncomprehendingly at the blood that was flowing from him. Despite that grim prognosis, he didn't feel sad, nor scared; he just continued to stare as his eyes grew weaker and weaker, the very act of keeping them open so very taxing on his unresponsive body.

His death would be another tally in the statistics that were car accidents, another number that went up, another number that went down. All in all, he thought he lived a decent life, not too exciting, but good. He had made a lot of good memories, and he would miss a lot more.

His family would miss him, or at least he hoped so. The days spent at that rented lake house were surely over for him, never to be seen again, as he would be in a place beyond reach for anybody except God.

He would be free of the pain of living, of the endless struggle to survive in the demanding society he had lived in.

Were those not good things? Were those not joyous things?

Or perhaps that was just his brain shutting down as he sought a good point of his situation before the end.

There were many things he did not get to do.

He didn't even get to see what the Switch 2 looked like.

With that rather stupid idea in mind, he closed his eyes for the last time.

And then he fell.

His eyes saw again, a mixture of colors illuminating a strange sky that shifted in red, midnight blue, and other multicolored hues. Pieces of rock defy gravity and float without effort or logic in fragmented pieces of dirt and strange crystal constructions.

WHO DARES!?

His body in free fall gave him little space to think of anything as it plummeted and changed direction randomly, making it seem gravity had not decided which way to make him go down.

INTERLOPER.

He continued in his fall until a piece of rock, glass, and water welcomed him in a hot and cold impact, his body felt all over. He began to sink into water that did not feel like water at all, all his limbs reacting and trying to move in the thick substance that changed density each time one of them moved.

HOW CURIOUS.

Once again, he felt his eyes darken, black dots dancing in the corners of his vision.

HOW DID YOU GET HERE?

Red dots were boring into his mind; he could feel memories shifting and bubbling into the forefront randomly, a soup of confusion he couldn't grasp enough to give it shape.

WHO BROUGHT YOU HERE?

His feet sank even further into something he couldn't describe.

I WILL BE WATCHING. YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME.

His eyes, heavy and not quite taking in his surroundings, felt darkened by a familiar hue.

---

His eyes prickled.

He opened them, and blue skies welcomed his vision with white clouds passing by, slowly dancing in the air with a lazy current of air that caressed his skin, almost like a loved hand welcoming him home.

His breathing was steady, and he felt grass beneath his hands as he patted the floor to steady himself. Dylan sat up and took in the view dazedly.

What just happened?

He stood up, hoping that his mind could make sense of what had occurred, that somehow, he could determine what his mind had experienced in the last few moments.

His eyes saw green, and he flinched, a hand flying to his stomach and finding nothing there. There was nothing wrong with his body, nor his eyes, but still, there was a budging sensation that there should be something there, something wrong.

When he took the view more carefully, he saw trees all around him. He was in a forest.

What?

The forest was big, green trees mixing with flowers he didn't recognize, a symphony of smells he associated with idyllic ads on TV and mountain retreats that had been left apart from the contamination civilization inevitably produced. Something he had only managed to get a glimpse of in those retreats with his family at that nice lake.

All in all, it was a sight to behold for his eyes, almost straight out of a storybook.

But where was he anyway? The last thing he remembered was—ah, what a pathetic way to die—He shook his head to scatter those thoughts away at the same time his right hand clutched his pounding skull. He needed to get his bearings and investigate his surroundings.

Besides the forest, there didn't seem to be anything else to note, save for a stone or two scattered around the base of trees. And that was precisely the problem. He knew he had crashed, that his car had killed him, and understood that his life had come to an end. But it had happened when leaving the city, and while a lot of trees decorated the roadside, other cars had passed by- not many, but enough to be a number that couldn't be missed, and the asphalt necessary to host them all. Yet, none of it was there. There was a forest when none should be, and no noises he associated with being anywhere near a highway were present. There weren't even any rails or such things that denoted that civilization was nearby.

Just what had happened? He just needed to think.

Maybe… maybe I crawled out, and I am just concussed? Yeah, that must be it. I just need to find help or an emergency phone. Do that. Do that.

His feet began to walk over the grass and earth, his steps taking him in a random direction with no real destination in mind. Not that it mattered anyway; he was very near civilization; he would find someone in time; he just had to keep walking. He just had to keep walking.

There was something off about that fore— that patch of verdant leaves near the highway. It seemed too big; the green stretched all the way to the horizon he could see. Even beyond, thick wood mixed, creating a sea of vegetation; his own mind tried futilely to rationalize each passing minute with increasingly wild theories, ranging from a new expansion from the government to a sudden overgrowth of plants near that fully asphalted road… in an area frequently used by cars…. His brain hadn't come up with logical things at the moment.

His ears caught the sound of a struggle near, and his heart soared at what seemed like animal cries. There must be people investigating nearby! Yes, those animals must be police dogs or something. He sought the sound, frantic steps celebrating his survival, his salvation from the jaws of death that had closed around him, a new day that he would treasure like no other. When the light of a new dawn was close, only coldness was in his heart, and that stopped him in his tracks when he reached the sounds and saw what exactly was producing it.

It was a purple monkey and a pair of things that looked like deformed beavers mixed with a squirrel fighting over a bunch of strange-looking fruits with a grey lizard with a yellow crest protruding from a reptilian snout.

Dylan just blinked. He just stared at the impossibility in front of him, as the four motherfucking Pokémon glared at each other. The Aipom extending two purple hands shielding the two normal types behind him, as a tail that looked to much like a hand made snapping motions at the lizard on the other side of the bunch of berries; a mount of them on the grass that looked like someone got high and drew mutated fruits from a drug-addled memory resulting in things that looked so off he would not even call them edible at a glance. The two Bidoof cowered behind the monkey with fearful eyes that looked at the other Pokémon and behind, seemingly at a loss as to whether to fight or flee.

On the other side of the situation was a dragon, a fucking dragon, snarling at them with slitted red eyes and a jaw that gleamed with small teeth as it snapped along with claws that clashed on the floor.

"Holy shit…" Dylan could not help but mutter.

The four Pokémon's attention snapped at once, eight eyes now looking at him. Ah, shit. The Aipom and the Bidoofs' eyes were questioning, but the Jangmo-o's were hostile, as he growled in his direction; seemingly perceiving him as a new threat.

He raised his hands and arms in a placating way, or at least he hoped it seemed that way to the Pokémon. "I'm sorry for intruding, but I mean no harm." I must be dreaming…

The little dragon paused and narrowed his eyes, silently asking him what the hell he was doing there. Meanwhile, the group of Pokémon looked at him with pleading eyes; even the Aipom made waving motions to themselves and then the dragon, before clasping them together and making a little bow.

Dylan gulped and began to speak, desperately hoping none of them would decide that attacking him was better than listening to him prattle. "I know you are on the cusp of battle now, but why not see if we can find a peaceful solution to this?"

The Jangmo-o now looked at him with the face of someone who doubted the intelligence of the speaker after he said a particularly stupid thing.

The Aipom was looking pretty disbelieving and almost offended that he had even asked.

He gulped. Just a Dragon and some Pokémon that could break every bone in my body without much effort, no biggie. "What seems to be the problem here?"

The monkey pointed accusingly at the lizard. "Aipom! Pom!" His arms pointed to the berries before patting at his own cream chest.

Did the Dragon-type steal their food? It seemed like the most likely option. That also meant it was not a good one. Thieves were never judged positively, especially when they take food from others. And Dylan wasn't really sure how Pokémon would act, given he didn't know how strong their instincts were compared to the animals back on Earth.

But given the fact that I am speaking to them and managed to stop, or at least stall, a possible fight, it has to count for something, right?

He looked at the Jangmo-o, who had begun to growl again, and realized that, upon closer inspection, he really looked worse for wear. Its skin was dirty, and the scales were a bit chipped in places; its claws also looked broken in places and marred with dirt, and the back legs were a bit roughed up. All of that was accentuated by a body that looked skinny and underfed, at least based on what he remembered the species looked like.

What all of that meant was that the dragon was ready to fight for his first real meal in a while.

That also meant he was kinda fucked.

"Well, I see what the issue is," he began, hoping a human-like approach would work, because he was no Steve Irwin, and trying to emulate him would surely make him end with missing limbs. "And I understand why you are angry, Aipom, but I also see Jangmo-o needing the food, as it's obvious he hasn't eaten in a while. So, why not be kind and give him a part of the berries?"

He knew he had said something wrong as soon as those words left his mouth, as the dragon shot a small ball of fire in his direction, narrowly missing his chest and splattering to the ground with a hiss, scorching the green grass but luckily not spreading past the small black ring it created.

Jangmo-o was now furious, heavily exhaling through its mouth and showing a row of shiny and very sharp teeth. Its face contorted in anger, red eyes glinting.

Shit, shit, shit! The Bidoofs squealed and ran behind him, slotting themselves behind his legs. Why are you hiding behind me!? You are way stronger than I! The Aipom seemed to think the same, but it readied its tail to attack.

Think. What did he do wrong? He just said they should share part of their food. If anything, the ones angry should be the Aipom and its friends, not the Dragon, who he just had offered a bit… of pity food. Ah, shit. Dragons were supposed to be prideful, weren't they?

He must not have liked that pity, no matter how much he needed it.

That reduced his options quite a bit.

The two Bidoofs nudged his legs forward, and when he looked at them, he noticed hopeful eyes looking at him and his pants. Did they…? "Sorry, but I am not a Trainer. I have no Pokémon."

The hope in their eyes quickly shifted to alarm, eyes widening as they nudged harder, noses digging into his pants as they pushed him forward again, perhaps in a vain hope that something would be different. "I really don't have any Pokémon, guys!" The Jangmo-o looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and condescension.

Dylan patted his pockets and waist to check and stopped when his fingers found something smooth, small, and round attached to his belt. He took it and looked at it. It was a Pokéball, the red and white he had seen so many times on video games and TV, gleaming in the sun, reflecting all his childhood dreams in his eyes in glinting nostalgia, held in his tight hand.

He now looked at the wary Jangmo-o, the inquisitive Aipom, and the again hopeful Bidoofs. "I don't know how to use this," he declared.

The Aipom facepalmed.

The Bidoofs' smiles fell into an expression of alarm.

The Jangmo-o looked at him with the face of someone who had been told a bad joke.

Such nonsensical things in such a nonsensical situation made his mouth open in a giggle that soon escalated to a titter and then to laughter. His left hand clutched his stomach as his legs grew weak, and he fell to the floor laughing all the way. He didn't notice the now worried look on the faces of all four Pokémon, and the Bidoofs that looked at each other in confusion. Dylan, for his part, was wondering if all of this was a complete hallucination his dying brain conjured up to make his last moments pleasant.

He now lay on the floor looking up at the canopy and the bluest sky he had ever seen as the last vestiges of his laughter bubbled up his throat. The Pokéball was still held strongly in his right hand, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the surface.

I must be dying right now.

A pink berry, a Pecha Berry, if he remembered correctly, was put near his head by a gray jaw; red eyes locked on him as he was nudged gently.

He rose to a sitting position, now looking at all the Pokémon who gave strange looks as he lifted the berry in a daze and bit into it. The flavor flooded his mouth; a sweetness that was halfway between an apple, a strawberry, and a cherry. All mixed in what objectively was a delicious fruit with pink skin and equally pink insides.

The Aipom began grabbing berries in his purple hands and depositing them near the Dragon-type, until there was a small, colorful, and delectable pile of them, which the reptile gracefully accepted and began to eat with abandon.

Dylan realized the Dragon was worse for wear, now that he was able to look at him up close. His… skin? Scales? Were dirty and matted, his claws chipped in places and some missing entirely, and he thought it looked thin. Albeit he had no idea what constituted as thin in a Dragon of all things.

The berries were crushed in powerful jaws, and Dylan wondered if they could reduce gemstones to smithereens, too.

Still, for a dying dream, it is far too cool. He was ready for it to turn into a nightmare at any moment… But why such pessimism? He asked himself; after all, it is best to enjoy these kinds of things while they last. Yes, that is what he should do: enjoy it until that tree squishes the last of his life out.

He gave a finishing bite to the sweet fruit before standing up, looking over the assembled Pokémon. "Since you shared the fruit at my request, let me help you find more!" He quickly put the Pokéball in place again.

The deadpan look he received wounded his pride more than he would like to admit. "Come on, guys, I am not that incompetent."

The deadpan looks became even more pronounced. Yeesh, would it kill you to be a bit nicer, dream? You owe my brain rent. "Well, let's go!" He ignored the way the Aipom looked at the Jangmo-o and pointed at him with pity in his eyes, and the manner in which the dragon snorted and finished the last remains of the pile of exotic fruit in two gulps, Dylan took off in a random direction. Not precisely a bright idea, but it was a dream, so it was likely that something would happen sooner or later.

"Ai-Aipom!" The purple monkey overtook him and made motions for him to follow it.

He raised an eyebrow and dutifully obeyed the instructions of the Pokémon, walking behind it and the Bidoofs alongside the small dragon, who had taken an almost protective stance near him, occasionally stealing furtive glances at Dylan when it thought he wasn't looking. Is it supposed to represent my guardian angel or something?

The forest itself was magnificent; tall trees formed a green canopy that reflected the light just right to make the colors pop and shine in the air. He saw a group of Cherubi hop past by at the same time two Kricketot and a green Burmy observed him curiously from the branches of trees, all under the watchful eye of a Kricketune. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen, and he found himself cheerfully singing a tune along his steps.

The Bidoofs smelled the air and changed directions each time they stopped to do so, while the Aipom followed them close by, occasionally stopping when the Bidoofs said something to it, and Dylan could hear that each 'Bidoof' had a slightly different pronunciation than the others, making him think back to that poem in Chinese that was the same word over and over. He missed the glances the Aipom kept stealing his way, too enamored with the sights to notice it.

They continued to walk until they reached a small clearing with a few bushes in it, which had several different berries growing on them. If he remembered correctly, two of those had Oran and Pecha Berries sitting among softly blowing leaves, a sweet and tangy smell filling the air as he approached them.

He was surprised to see the berry trees were smaller than he imagined, the Oran one being the smallest one by a wide margin, barely reaching to his waist, with the Pecha surpassing his head, but still was smaller compared to the fruit tree in the real world.

He kneeled in front of the blue fruits, and his eyes roamed over them, taking into account every detail, from the small indents they had to the vivid blue color, to the sweet and citric smell that wafted off them, and just stared a bit, lost in a fruit. This dream is really detailed…

He felt a nudge in his right leg and saw the Jangmo-o look at him, concerned. "Jangmo-o, Jang?" One of its claws gestured to the fruit while his eyes looked almost expectantly at his hands.

He realized the Aipom had come closer when he felt a hand—no, its tail—on his own hand and softly directed it to the skin of the fruit, never taking its sight from Dylan. Not even when he dazedly took one fruit from the bush-tree. He stared at the purple monkey until it began to fidget and extended a hand to it, until it touched its head and rubbed against that oddly colored but soft fur.

Despite the Aipom not fighting it, it appeared extremely flustered. "Aipom-pom?" He continued to pet it, taking note of the lighter colored fur near his mouth and hand-tail, and the way there was a small scar near his mouth, very light, but distinguishable up close. This is a dream; I must be in the hospital. This is a dream; I must be in the hospital. This is a dream; I must be in the hospital.

He stood up quickly. "I will search for more fruits nearby!" he announced.

The Pokémon seemed far from pleased with that statement. The Bidoof was nervously eating a Pecha Berry that the Aipom must have gotten; the clash of teeth was audible to his pounding ears.

His feet began to move despite the protests of the Pokémon by his sides as he walked past the trees and into a more shaded area of the forest, where the branches were very thick, and little light managed to get to the ground. The small patches were almost like shimmering puddles to him.

Why haven't I woken up?

He could feel something in his neck; the hairs on it rose, and he could hear cold lap at them at the same time he swore he could feel eyes on him, but when he turned to look, there was nothing except the approaching Pokémon he had left behind. He began to pick up speed, the trees pacing past him as he continued to run through the forest, uncaring of his surroundings.

"Jang-Jangmo-o!"

He could see, in the distance, two red dots shine for a moment before disappearing from his view. He made his way to them, his steps wobbly. Maybe that's the ambulance; help is coming I won't die oh God, thank you

A skull jumped from thin air as two giant and gleaming red eyes suddenly were inches from his.

He gave an unmanly scream as he lost his footing and plummeted to the floor. Rather than just stopping, the ground became uneven, and he began to roll over the floor, descending quickly as he crashed onto branches that whipped his arms, legs, and uncovered face. He continued rolling until his back hit a solid surface, sending a wave of pain through his body.

He was on all fours now, and one hand touched his left cheek and discovered a large stinging cut where once was unmarred skin. He had lost all sense of direction and had no idea where he was.

The skull, a Duskull, was in front of him again, two red dots emanating from empty eye sockets, creating an eerie feeling as something cold settled in his gut. "H-hello?"

The Pokémon looked over him. "Duskull." It made a sign towards the hill he had just fallen on and then towards a small, illuminated patch not too far from his position, before floating upwards to the level of the trees and quickly disappearing in them.

The Jangmo-o was the first to arrive, his eyes wide and continuously speaking, or more accurately, growling, while red eyes dug into his. The Aipom came later, followed closely by the Bidoof. The purple Pokémon winced when it saw his wound.

The Aipom offered its tail to help him stand, and when it realized Dylan wasn't moving on his own, it took the job of making him stand on its own, a gesture which he appreciated more than words could convey.

He began to walk towards the patch, his steps slightly steadier than before.

A bush with chromatic leaves, shining with blue and green and red, almost metallic-looking, was quietly sitting there with berries that looked like stars growing from stems that were more like glass than plants, five colored petals shining from five different fruits. A smell that was proper of a fully baked dessert softly wafted from them, filling his nose with memories of days with grandma baking in the oven, things his father had forbidden him to eat.

'Our little secret,' she used to say, as a piece of pie was put into his mouth.

"I found berries, guys! A good one too!" he found himself saying. His vision focused once more. Dreams could be rather vivid, after all. He didn't even need to be dying; all the medicine in the hospital must be doing a number on his brain.

He didn't know a lizard could make a disappointed face that eclipsed everyone he had seen on humans. He even got the 'I'm not angry' part right.

"Don't look at me like that; I found some good berries…" he paused. "These are good, right?" He really had no idea if the supposed lore was the same in a dream.

The Aipom was now staring with wide eyes as the Bidoofs jumped up and down, chattering excitedly; even the Jangmo-o seemed impressed with his find, albeit in an 'I can't believe someone like you managed to do that' way. A bit insulting, all things considered; he was doing his best… mostly.

The Aipom went ahead and began to pluck the berries and give them to the eagerly waiting Bidoofs, as Dylan came closer to the bush and delicately plucked the soft fruit, offering it to the Dragon-type, who took it in his jaws and chewed it slowly, never taking his eyes off him. Said eyes widened, and a contented smile began to grow on its reptilian face. The other three Pokémon had similar looks of their own, contentedly savoring the Starf Berry.

The last one was waiting for him on the branch; his fingers felt the texture, smooth and flawless, and took it off in one go. The bush visibly shivered at the same time the colors fled from it, draining from the spot he took the fruit and spreading all over the leaves, flooding them with rusted brown; even the patterns mimicked the appearance of worn metal, black spots blooming on the leaves as they shriveled and shrunk, until the whole bush seemed devoid of life.

The change was so sudden he wondered what he had done wrong, until the Jangmo-o gave him some reassuring pats on his legs. 'That's completely normal,' its eyes seemed to say. He smiled back and bit into the fruit; instantly, an explosion of flavor flooded his mouth, tart, dry, sour, sweet, all mixed in what was the best thing he had ever tasted, making the Pecha Berry from before seem bland and tasteless in comparison.

Wow, this thing would collapse whole industries if it were real.

He took time to savor the fruit, slowly rolling it over his tongue with each bite, letting the flavors seep deep into his mind. Sadly, the fruit was never bigger than his hand, and it went as quickly as it came.

Just as he lamented the loss of such a good food, his cheek began to tingle, and the slight pain he felt when he moved his cheek faded away until it disappeared completely. His hand reached for his wound but found only unmarred skin, the thin red line no longer visible in his body. He even felt energized, like he was ready to run a marathon and win first place. It made sense; pain could not be readily mimicked in a dream, after all.

The remains of the Starf Berry, a seed, were nestled in his hand, the multicolored juices that shimmered slightly covering what was more similar to a pointed piece of quartz than a seed. He rolled it in his hand, letting the pointy edges groove over his skin.

The Jangmo-o came closer and put its own seed into the floor, staring at him. "Oh, thank you. I will plant it later." Maybe the dream would make it grow fast, and he could taste another soon. I am kind of lucid dreaming… I think.

He pocketed the two seeds in his pants and lay on the ground, happy to just watch the passing clouds in the small holes in the thick canopy. He could hear the Pokémon chat between themselves nearby; of course, he understood nothing at all of that conversation.

The sky had grown dark, and the day was ending. His dream was surely ending.

Where should I go now?

The Aipom now looked worried.

Did I say that out loud?

The Bidoofs nudged him and aimed their bodies to the right from where he was, their paws patting him and pointing again in that direction. "Doof, Bi-Bidoof."

"Is there a town there? Thank you, little ones," he said while petting them both. "I will be going, then." He stood up and gave a small bow to the Pokémon. "Thank you for helping me, guys."

The Aipom smiled nervously, and the Bidoofs waved him goodbye. The small dragon simply stared at him and gave a small huff. "I can walk just fine, you know?" It huffed again.

He waved at them and began to walk in the direction they had instructed him, leaving those fantastical creatures behind.

The forest was identical, each tree just blending into the other, making everything seem the same, the colors disappearing as the sky got darker and darker, the light slowly fading from his view. And yet, he still walked.

This dream is really long. He didn't remember any of his dreams lasting that long. Though it could easily be because that one was medically induced.

He didn't know how long he had walked. He just noticed that the moon had come out when the trees cleared, and he now stood in front of a precipice, the darkness swallowing the floor, leaving him unable to discern how deep it was exactly.

Why haven't I woken up?

Why? Why? Why?

Maybe he just needed a shock. In the movies, that always works.

The abyss looked so deep and hollow.

That's it. Jump, and he will wake up.

His feet kept jumping and fidgeting in place, the energy conferred to them by the Starf Berry making it seem they were electrified, jolts wracking them as he inched closer to the edge.

Do it quickly. Now now now now now now now

Without thought, without much of anything, Dylan jumped.

"JANGMO-O!"

Something hard crashed into his chest, claws digging into his shirt and trying in vain to divert his freefall, as a reptilian head plastered itself on his chest. He felt something in his heart churn and extend, a tendril that he didn't know he had, reaching from the small dragon; he could feel it grab onto something, tangling itself with a small flame, and he could see a flash of the sun rising over the lines of a canyon that stretched the horizon, before sealing itself away in his head.

In that single moment, Dylan came to a realization he should have had long ago. This isn't a dream.

His body came to a halt, the momentum shaking his body suddenly and roughly. Two grey nubs somehow grabbed the dragon with strength such a small frame didn't seem capable of possessing, and now held them both in the air, slowly lowering them, the twin red dots of the Duskull, emitting from basically nothing… No, the single red ball floating in an empty space bore into him with an intensity that was almost reproachful, tinged with burning curiosity that was unable to be hidden.

Dylan was finally lowered onto the floor, letting him see the full moon in the distance, a perfect silver disk… and no bunny or man on its surface.

"This was never a dream," he said to the two Pokémon. The Duskull gave no indication it heard, but he could feel the vibrations of the Jangmo-o's growl reverberate in his chest.

Having said that, he gave a last high-pitched laugh that started from a murmur and grew into a panicked scream and promptly passed out for the third time that day.

---

Hi there! I have already posted this elsewhere, but I decided to put it here too to expand my reach and hopefully find new readers who like this. First time in QQ, so hope I did introductions well.

I'll post a chapter daily until I catch up with the other sites.

Having said that, hope you enjoy. Have a nice day!

 

[Raphiel]

The Duskull gave no indication it heard, but he could feel the vibrations of the Jangmo-o's growl reverberate in his chest.

Click to shrink...

Jangmo-o: "You fuckin idiot"

 

[Kamen K]

Ok I am now interested

 

[Peacemaren]

TFTC! Looking forward to what you've got.

"This was never a dream," he said to the two Pokémon. The Duskull gave no indication it heard, but he could feel the vibrations of the Jangmo-o's growl reverberate in his chest.

Having said that, he gave a last high-pitched laugh that started from a murmur and grew into a panicked scream and promptly passed out for the third time that day.

Click to shrink...

So, genuine question: does fainting like this... ever actually happen? I understand it's a fairly bog-standard story trope to have the isekai'd character faint away in shock and delirium over what's happened, and obviously I've never had the experience of being suddenly transported to the Pokemon world, but I've never really felt this reaction was realistic. I can understand shock at your circumstances and the sudden change, despair and uncertainty about everything you left back home, feeling faint as you come to grips with what's happening, maybe needing to sit down and breathe, but while all of that is fairly common when faced with anxiety or panic attacks, I've been led to believe that actually fainting from that (especially in a relatively low stress environment like a reasonably idyllic forest) is pretty rare.

...Then again, realism isn't really the most important factor when it comes to isekai stories or Pokemon, so what does it really matter anyway.

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

"You just did a very stupid thing, pal," was the very first thing said by the floating Duskull, that stupid red light almost merry in its bobbing. His voice definitely was.

"Screw you," was Jangmo-o's immediate answer. His claws were still digging into the human's clothes, and he was sure he had ripped something up. Rather than the rescue he had imagined, he had just spent those few falling seconds glued to the human, trying to act as a sort of cushion for his fragile body.

The Duskull was floating around the unconscious man, occasionally poking him before moving again and doing the same to a different body part. The Human didn't notice and continued to be completely out cold. "Pal, you can not fly. What did you expect to happen?"

"Shut up, you stupid ghost!" That Pokémon was really getting on his nerves. At least he did something!

"You did not do anything particularly noteworthy, pal. You were just a silly dragon." The Ghost-type patted his head animatedly.

Jangmo-o's maw reached out and almost bit the offending appendage, but that damnable thing retreated just in time to avoid a mauling that he would surely remember for the rest of his life.

"I didn't think he'd jump…" he grumbled, and that was nothing but the truth. He honestly didn't consider the idea that fool of a human would do something so reckless. He was following him so he wouldn't get lost or anger some Pokémon, because, despite his words, he didn't trust his ability to get out of the forest in one piece.

Damn it, and it all happens on the first day in a while I get some decent food.

"Hey! It's everyone alright down there!?" the Aipom's scream rang through the night, his voice carrying a panicked edge. Jangmo-o could see him and his two Bidoof friends peeping out of the edge of the cliff, small black dots against the light of the moon. "Wait for us!"

The three Pokémon hurried along the borders that led down the cliff; his trained ears could hear rustling grass alongside the Aipom's 'Hurry up!' as they went lower and lower. In what even he could admit was a good time, they had made it down the cliff and approached the prone human quickly.

"Oh, Original One, thank you; he is alright," said the monkey.

"Did he really jump?" questioned a Bidoof.

"Of course he jumped, Bodie, are you blind?" was the reproachful answer of the second Bidoof; an annoyed frown edged her features.

"I told you we should have invited him to our nest," said the first Bidoof, a sad expression on his face. "I always get happier after a nap."

The four Pokémon looked at him disbelievingly. "Your nest?" asked Jangmo-o, not bothering to keep the annoyance off his voice. "Where would you put him? Between the berries and the branches? His legs poking outside?" Are the Pokémon in this region dumb?

"Hey! It is a big nest; we just need to finish digging it. Then it could fit him." Bodie nodded sagely. "We could make room for him."

"We must take him to town; the other humans will know what to do with him." The Aipom, along with everyone else, completely ignored the Bidoof, making him pout angrily. Not that it helped any; a Bidoof's face was one of the less threatening things in the world. It would take more than that to move Jangmo-o. "Bidie, you listened to Old Chatot the most; do you know where the healing building is?"

The smaller Bidoof shook her head. "That's for Pokémon; I don't know what the human one looks like, Aipom."

"And every human building looks the same to me…" murmured the Aipom. He rubbed his chin with his tail, eyes crossed with concentration, until they suddenly opened. "We could try that building just near the forest's edge! The one that has all those Pokémon."

The male Bidoof made a distraught cry. "But that's where all the mean Pokémon are! Dad always told us not to go there! Remember when we went anyway, and that big Bug made us servants for a week?"

Aipom gave a frustrated grunt. "What else could we do? I don't know how humans work, and Old Chatot always told us they are super fragile, and he doesn't look good."

Bidie nodded slowly. "There are other humans in the building; they could help."

"I still think we could get him in our nest," insisted Bodie.

"Can you carry him?" asked Jangmo-o, directing his view to the floating Duskull. He didn't miss the way the two Bidoofs nervously looked at him every three seconds.

In response, the Pokémon reached for him and raised him into the air. The result was a lax body that made a curve, legs and arms dangling uselessly and the tips reaching the floor.

"That doesn't look good," said Aipom. He turned to look at Jangmo-o. "Can you help us?"

Jangmo-o huffed. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

Aipom nodded. "Bodie, go down the middle and act as support; Dragon, go up front and do the same. Bidie will lead us, and I will carry the legs. Duskull, can you warn us if any Pokémon comes?"

"Sure thing, buddy."

"Three of us? I could carry him on my own," said Bodie.

"I know, but I don't want him to move much," answered the purple Pokémon.

The Pokémon obeyed, quickly positioning themselves as Aipom instructed, and Jangmo-o felt the weight settle on his back as Duskull let go of the human. A small thing for his draconic body to handle.

"Let's go, then," said the Dragon-type.

They began their walk on the forest path, the silent human up his spine making the journey a somber one.

"Where are you from?" It seemed some didn't get the tact to know when to shut up. "I have never seen a Pokémon like you."

His frustration made him growl, that wound still fresh and painful on his heart. "None of your business, Bodie." He made sure to bite out that last part like a foul word.

"I was asking because I didn't notice how hungry you were," said the Pokémon without any sense of self-preservation or even a shred of intelligence. "And I wanted to say sorry for not sharing our berries with you."

That Bidoof was very lucky he was busy carrying the stupid human; if not, he would have kicked his stupid furry body into the floor until it stopped moving. "I don't need any help from the likes of you," he growled out.

"Huh?" Does he ever stop speaking? "But you are thin, and dirty, and-"

"Leave it, Bodie," interrupted Aipom. Apparently, he did have some common sense. "He doesn't want to talk about it."

"Where are we going anyway?" said Jangmo-o.

"A building near an area where there are lots of strange and strong Pokémon," answered Bidie. "There are humans there, but…"

"The Pokémon are mean!" said Bodie. "That big one made us bring him berries and water, massage him and all that because he got some medal thingies or something. And he didn't even thank us! We had to run while he wasn't looking!"

Jangmo-o huffed; of course those Pokémon would do something so humiliating. They seemed dumb enough to not realize what exactly that Pokémon was and that he wasn't likely to chase them.

"He was gone, Bodie; we didn't run." Aipom, justly, had a shameful tone in his voice. "He could still be gone when we get there." He paused for a moment and added, "The humans will know how to help this one. He is obviously… ill."

"Is he hurt?" asked Bidoof.

"Probably hit his head while we weren't looking. Maybe that's why he tumbled off the cliff."

Bodie paused for a while, letting them continue their walk in peace for a few minutes until he spoke again. "He seemed to think he was dreaming. Perhaps the reality damaged his heart; after all, he was scared of what the world being true would mean for him. It must be very different from what he considered being awake," he finished.

Jangmo-o paused; everyone paused. Even their walk stopped.

Duskull began to laugh.

"What's with him?" he asked. "Did he hit his head too?"

"Ignore him," said Aipom and Bidie at the same time.

"He gets like that sometimes; don't listen to his ramblings much. Don't be like Buizel down the river." The Aipom was unusually serious about that.

"Yeah, he said to her once that water must be the ramblings of dryness and she couldn't use Water Gun for a week. She stopped coming to play afterwards, too." Bidie sounded oddly proud of that. "He is just trying to sound like Old Chatot, don't mind him."

The human began to move, and Jangmo-o took it as his cue to start walking again. "Old Chatot?"

Aipom gave an affirmative grunt. "A very, very, very Old Chatot that lives in a big tree in the forest. He knows a lot about humans and has hundreds of histories from when he flew around the world."

"They are all very fun!" Bodie said animatedly. "He said there is a giant crater somewhere in a peninsula that has strange things inside! The air feels paradoxical!"

"And you believed him?" Jangmo-o said in the most deadpan tone he could muster.

"Yep!" said Bodie unashamedly. "He has flown all over the world and knows a lot of things! He even sometimes goes to the Fief up north to talk to the bosses there!"

That gave Jangmo-o pause. "There is a Fief here?"

"Far up north, a Luxray family are the bosses up there. Don't worry, they don't come down from there except to pick up Old Chatot sometimes."

"Who says I am worried?" he challenged. He was not afraid of those kinds of Pokémon. No matter what his father said, no matter what the First Fang said, no matter what anyone said. He was a Dragon; he was strong.

"Whatever you say, pal." How he wanted to bite that stupid Pokémon and cook him up for good measure.

After that, silence became the norm, as they continued to walk to their destination. The weight of the human a grim reminder on his shoulders. He couldn't help at all; he couldn't do anything except watch as he plummeted and then just hold on and try to do… What exactly? Evolve? His line was wingless; he couldn't fly.

…

Why had that human jumped? Did he hit his head, as Aipom had said? Or maybe he disliked living that much? That second option angered Jangmo-o; he didn't appreciate the idea of giving up in such a way. It was an admission of weakness, of defeat. And he would fight, no matter what came for him, who abandoned him, who derided him; he would never give up. If that truly was the answer, then he would make sure to whip that human into shape, to drive into his head the will he needed to stand up.

Not that he planned to separate from the idiot, anyway. It was obvious he had no idea how to survive. Really, looking at a berry bush like that, like it wasn't common for the rarer variants to do that, made it evident that he needed someone to stop him from being an idiot and fall face-first into the floor.

That last thought ignited the anger in him, annoyance following suit. He would deal with it later; for the moment, directing those Pokémon and making sure they didn't run away the moment they spotted something mildly threatening was his job, and he would make sure they did it well.

The moon shone above; the air had become saltier as they went further in the forest, welling an unwelcome nostalgia in him, memories ebbing in his mind. He shook his head to shake them away. Not now. He didn't think of them. He didn't.

"We are almost there," said Bidie. "The fence should be close by."

The area was more open, with the trees having become more separated and the light of the moon managed to illuminate more space than it did before, the silver light falling on them as they walked.

They eventually reached a metal fence that cut their way; grey lines that ran horizontally as far as Jangmo-o's eyes could see; its height was a bit more than the human when he stood up. It would not stop any Pokémon that wished to cross it, the lines creating squares perfect for climbing -not that it could be hard to jump or fly over for the more experienced Pokémon-, so he guessed it was more of a warning deterrent than anything else.

Their group stopped in front of it, Bidie beginning to speak, "We are here," she said with a tad of nervousness. "The building is farther up there; we must cross a small river, and we reach it."

"Hey, ghost, float him up," demanded Jangmo-o.

"Mmmmm, that phrase lacks something." He would bite him; he would bite every part of his body as soon as he got the chance. Bury him up too, for good measure. "But I will do it anyway; I don't leave pals behind."

He grabbed the center of the unconscious human and went up with him, the lax body floating past the fence as Aipom climbed quickly and carried the male Bidoof on his tail, the female one following them more slowly. When they reached the top of the fence, they just threw themselves down and stared at him.

"Hey, are you not climbing?" asked Aipom.

In response, Jangmo-o readied his legs and jumped; he arched past the fence and fell beside the assembled Pokémon. He stared at them with self-sufficiency.

"Show off," muttered Bidie.

"Let's go," said Jangmo-o. "We must get the human to that building you said."

They quickly regained the positions they had for a while; the Duskull blinked happily at him… Could it be called blinking if the red ball just became shaped like a half-moon? He shook his head; he had more pressing matters to attend to than such questions.

They began a new tense walk; Jangmo-o didn't miss how coiled the body of the Bidoof in front of him became, as the human was walked more tightly and the occasional whimper that escaped the mouth of the Bidoofs as they marched on.

"Bodie, Bidie, stop doing that; they will hear," hissed the monkey.

The small river was there, and they once again repeated the floating part as they crossed the water, the cold lapping at his feet, the color almost black in the night.

"But I'm scared; what if we find that mean Bug again?" responded Bodie. "I don't want to be a servant."

Jangmo-o wanted to give some training to this bunch of cowards; they needed to get their priorities and gain some backbone. How had they made it in the wild for so long with such attitudes? "We say what we are doing here," he declared, "and if we don't convince them that way, we fight. Simple as that."

"We aren't much of a fighter…" mumbled Aipom.

"We are five," Jangmo-o said, very annoyed, a common emotion that day, it seemed. "We can at least put in the effort."

"Hey, maybe you are right!" agreed Bodie. Maybe he isn't so bad, after all. "If we explain, we could invite them to our nest afterwards to take naps! Like a party!" I take that back; he is an irredeemable idiot.

"I very much prefer if you just serve me, my little servants," said a hissing voice in front of them. "But that could be a party too… for me, that is."

In front of them was a large centipedal body, dark red adorned with purple rings on the side, two antennae extending past its head, blocking part of the moon from his view. A mocking smirk plastered on its face as it stared down at them with so much assurance, Jangmo-o wondered how strong it must be to do that with so much ease.

"Pokémon incoming," droned the Duskull, happily bobbing in the air.

He. Will. Burn. That. Bastard. To. A. Crisp.

"Original One! It's him again!" Bidie screeched and ran past Jangmo-o to hide behind the Aipom. "I don't want to give massages again!"

"What do we do!?" came the shrill voice of the Aipom that was now trembling; he could feel the vibrations go up the human's body all the way to him.

"I want a massage," answered the Bug-type, "They are good before going to sleep. Oh, and fresh berries for breakfast would do."

"We are here to find help for this human," interrupted Jangmo-o, the only one with common sense in all of that forest, it seemed. "Where are the other humans?"

The Pokémon just stared at them with narrowed eyes, as it seemed to notice the body on their backs for the first time. Its—His head came close to the human's, suspicious eyes inspecting the prone, unconscious form, even giving it a little nudge to see if it stirred.

"What happened?" he demanded, all mirth drained from his voice and expression.

"He fell off a cliff," Jangmo-o said.

"He jumped off a cliff," said Aipom.

Jangmo-o resisted the urge to growl.

The Bug stared at them for a few moments before speaking, "Follow me; the Ranch House is over there. The owner should still be awake." His giant body began to move with a grace Jangmo-o didn't expect for someone his size, almost slithering past them and into the depths of the 'Ranch'.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked the frozen Pokémon. "Move."

The other Pokémon jumped a bit and obeyed. "How did you do that?" wondered Bodie.

"Using my brain," he answered. He turned to the Duskull. "Thank you for the warning, ghost."

"You're welcome, pal," was the merry response.

They had entered a big circular clearing with a lot of Pokémon in it; he could hear a new wave of whimpers at that. The Pokémon were chatting amongst themselves, but when they passed them, the conversations died down, and every one of them turned to look at their group. His body tingled when he felt all the eyes looking at him.

A Pokémon he had not seen before, looking a bit like a Rapidash but black and white, got near the Bug-type. "Scolipede, what's with them?" he asked.

"A hurt human," answered the centipede. "Go warn the owner."

The equine Pokémon nodded and went ahead, almost instantly becoming a blur in his eyes.

Well, there were now two Pokémon with common sense in this place.

They walked on.

"Who are they?

"Is that a human?"

"They must be trained Pokémon."

"Never seen a Jangmo-o before…"

"Is the human unconscious?"

The mumbles followed them, a soft and rumbling coat as they moved. He could feel the still trembling Pokémon behind him. Another thing he chastised them for: did they not live in a forest where more Pokémon live? Did they not encounter groups in there? As far as he remembered, most Pokémon in Poni Island were in groups, though perhaps that was a consequence of Light Steel Fief than anything else, but he still thought it normal for Pokémon outside of Fiefs to seek safety in numbers. Father always said—

He interrupted that train of thought almost immediately, grinding it to dust in his mind. He didn't need to think of him. He never would.

They continued to walk until a building came into view, a wooden two-story construction with a step red roof that was surrounded by a wooden fence, a contrast to the metal one from before. From its insides came an old man running towards them, brown hair with grey strands mashed with an equally brown and bushy beard, two grey eyes scanning each one of them. He was dressed in green clothes that connected with lines to the back, all over another pair of white clothes. There was a Pokémon he didn't recognize emblazoned on the green, with the words 'Ratell Ranch and Care' imprinted on it.

His face was worried as he hurriedly took stock of the situation and anxiously rubbed his head with a free hand. "Come on, come on, get the man inside; the doctor will be coming any minute now…"

Finally, he would be able to help that stupid human.

---

Now, what do we have here?

---

Awareness came in slowly, a drip of returning consciousness that let his eyes see light bit by bit. The dark borders in the corners of his eyes receded to let his mind focus on his surroundings. Despite the sight returning first, what he realized at the beginning was the soft material he was on; it was different from what he remembered his bed to feel like. Did he put something on it? He couldn't recall.

He was staring at something wrong; he came to realize, something different. It took him some blinking moments to notice he was under a strange ceiling. The wood that made up the ceiling was nothing like the white of his apartment. And that fact made him jump up straight.

The room in which he was had the touches of a rural farmhouse that appeared in magazines and cozy internet videos. Pale green wallpaper decorated the sides of the room, a soft-looking red carpet was in its center, nested atop a wooden floor. He could see a desktop with masterfully crafted reliefs all over it; on it, he saw his wallet, phone, and a solitary Pokéball. In front of them was a comfy-looking brown chair with a plush cushion opposite a big mirror, just beside a wardrobe. There were two doors in the room, one at the very end and another past the wardrobe, likely to the bathroom.

Light shone through a window near the bed, and a TV was seated alongside a small desk with plenty of space for putting things below it. The room was big and spacious. The kind he liked to watch videos of.

He had no idea where he was.

He was on a bed with pale red covers, wearing long but thin white and blue pajamas, the material soft and fluffy to the touch, nicer than anything he owned. And therein lay another problem to the already growing list in his head.

"Jangmo-o?" That sound caught his attention, and he found himself centering his gaze at the foot of the bed, where a grey and yellow lizard rested. Its body curled up together like a cat; the only part that was moving was the head, which now had its eyes staring intently at his. As soon as it noticed this, the Pokémon, the Pokémon, rose from its resting position and came closer to him, climbing up his legs until its snout was inches from his face and those ruby eyes were the center of his vision.

"Hi?" he tried.

The Jangmo-o huffed and jumped off the bed, quickly reaching the door and jumping on the knob to open it and rapidly leaving the room, leaving Dylan staring at the open door, trying to process what happened.

"This is real," he said to himself, as much to convince himself as to ground his heart on the floor. "Holy shit, this is real!"

He removed the covers from his body and found a pair of blue slippers on the floor. They are my size, he idly realized, as they fit snugly into his feet.

He didn't move; he just sat there, head in hands, trying to come to terms with his new reality, because, against what all logic dictated and all the laws he had learned in school, he was in the Pokémon World, with real breathing Pokémon in it. One of which he just saw open a door and leave like it was no big deal.

His mental ramblings were stopped when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and the Jangmo-o entered the room, jumping into the bed at the same time a man smiled at him, white teeth shining past a brown beard, warm eyes looking at him with clear relief glinting in them. "My boy, you are awake! You really gave me a scare; are you feeling well?" His voice had a slight twang to it, an accent he couldn't place, and most importantly, he said something that was definitely not English, nor any language he had ever heard, and he understood every word perfectly.

"You alright there, lad?" asked the man when Dylan failed to respond for a few moments, just filing problem number one hundred fifty-seven in his head.

"Y-yeah, just peachy," said Dylan. "Where am I?"

The man's head turned slightly to the left before he answered. "You are in Ratell Ranch, my boy, the finest Pokémon care facility on this side of Sinnoh."

"Sinnoh, huh…?" He was in the Sinnoh Region, home to a lot of history, the most powerful Legendaries if the lore is correct, and its own Pokémon League.

"It was a group of Pokémon that brought you here," said the man, seemingly having decided that Dylan wasn't going to start a conversation on his own. "An Aipom and two Bidoofs, all directed by the small guy there." He smiled at the dragon primly seated beside him. "The little one did his best to stay beside you, but I convinced him to take a bath and eat first. You really have a loyal Pokémon there, my boy."

So, he was a guy… Dylan stared at the Dragon-type and got red eyes scanning him in return. True to the words of the man, he was now clean and had no signs of dirty scales anywhere. Albeit he still looked a little thin, at least, he thought so. "I'm sorry, but he isn't my Pokémon. In fact, today is the first day I have seen him." He didn't get why a Pokémon would help a complete stranger like him. He didn't think the berries were enough reason to aid him.

The man's eyes widened in surprise. "I see," he said. He paused for a moment before continuing, "But where are my manners? I haven't introduced myself. I am Archibald Ratell, owner of this fine Ranch; it is good to meet you."

"Good to meet you, too. I am Dylan Gallagher," he responded in kind.

"Good, good. Your memory is working fine. The doctor who examined you said you could be disoriented when you woke up, but otherwise you were unharmed." The Ranch owner paused again, mulling his words slowly. "Where are you from, son? Your wallet had a weird picture and some Unown script. Is it a membership for some archaeology program?"

Dylan didn't answer.

Mister Ratell cocked his head but didn't press further. "Who do we call to make sure you return home?" The question was a kind one, delivered gently and in a soft tone of voice laced with selfless worry. Despite it, it completely knocked the air out of him; his mind became dizzy trying to come up with an answer to that question that wouldn't make him look insane or concussed.

His mouth opened and closed a few times without producing any sound. Ratell continued to look at him patiently.

He still couldn't make any sound from his mouth.

"Why don't we eat a big breakfast first? You must be hungry," said the older man. "Preston is making it right now."

"Yeah, that would help." He stood up and walked closer to Mister Ratell, the Pokémon following him when he did so. "Thank you very much for that."

He smiled. "It is no problem, son, I'm happy to help."

"No, really, I can express how grateful I am…" He finally caught sight of the mirror, and his heart grew cold when he realized he couldn't recognize the person in it. Or at least, not completely. His brown hair was gone, replaced by a pale blue, his eyes a clear red that he had never seen before. His face was younger too, early twenties if he could make a guess. It was like a funhouse mirror; his face still had vestiges of what it used to be, but it was warped enough that it couldn't completely register as his, like there was a degree of separation his mind couldn't bridge fast enough for his eyes to catch on.

Perhaps more importantly, it looked –and there was no other way to say it— like an anime face. Whereas on Earth faces had a certain look that he knew they all shared despite the diversity of them, there it was kind of a strange thing he saw. It didn't look entirely like the face of a human, or at least an Earth human as it were; it looked like those stylized faces that appeared in anime games, or like Final Fantasy had used in the latest games; human enough that there was no dissonance, but different enough to be noticeable.

And now it appeared it was his.

He stood there, staring at the stranger in the mirror until he felt a hand delicately landing on his shoulder. "Son, why don't you take a bath first," he said worriedly, pointing at the door near the wardrobe. "I put fresh clothes in the closet; yours were a little… tattered. You can take your time; the breakfast will take a while."

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Thank you. Thank you."

Ratell nodded. "I will come later to fetch you up."

"Jangmo-o, Jang." The draconic Pokémon stared at him silently for a few moments before jumping again and opening the door for him and entering inside without prompting.

The man smiled once more. "I see you are in good hands. I will leave you to it." He closed the door as he left.

Dylan entered the room slowly; the tiled white and pale purple bathroom was nice and had everything he needed: a small shower in a corner covered by curtains depicting various Rainy Castform with happy faces floating by, and a fluffy white towel was waiting in a hanger. The Jangmo-o had jumped on the toilet and was patiently waiting for him there.

"Are you going to watch me?" asked Dylan, the incredulity managing to break through the haze of his feelings; the fact that a dragon would stand guard while he bathed was enough to reel his mind for a bit.

Jangmo-o huffed dismissively and pointed to the shower curtain. "Jang."

"I see, but could you close your eyes while I undress?"

The eyes were closed immediately and without protest.

Dylan took off his pajamas, never taking his eyes off the Jangmo-o to make sure he didn't peep. Almost like sensing his thoughts, the Pokémon made an indignant growl. "Sorry, sorry."

He entered the shower and bathed, all while oddly aware of the dragon just standing guard outside.

He finished and reached for the towel, wrapping it around him and walking out of the room. The Jangmo-o gave him a knowing look and stayed behind while he reached for the wardrobe and took off a green shirt and dark blue pants, along with white socks and underwear. Once he was dressed, he called for the Jangmo-o. "You can come in now." He was also wearing fitting black and blue shoes, a small Zigzagoon emblazoned on the side.

The dragon took stock of him as he entered and was seemingly pleased with the result as he nodded and came closer again.

Dylan just stood there, not knowing what to do. He was in another world, freshly washed with another world's water, another world's soap, and wearing another world's clothes, and using another world's body. Because his old one was likely gone in that accident. Everything he had was gone: his family, his friends, his job.

His body found the bed as the tears began to fall, drops of water finding themselves trailing down his cheeks and into his legs as he sobbed fitfully into his hands.

The Jangmo-o placed himself into his legs, slowly rubbing his head into his stomach, deep purrs emitting from his body as he nuzzled against him. Oddly, it worked to calm him; not his cries, for those continued, but his hands found his head and began to caress it, a grounding and surprising mix between soft and firm, something that wasn't quite scales on his hands.

The Dragon-type didn't seem to mind his cries nor the tears that fell on him. He just stood there, letting Dylan lean on him as he cried.

A mourning wail for his life.

A mourning wail for the world he lost.

A guilty cry for he was in the world of Pokémon, and even in that instance, a part of him was happy for that.

Slowly, his cries receded, and he cleaned his tears. The Jangmo-o continued with his purrs until he stopped completely, and even then, he continued for a bit more afterwards. Not once did he protest.

"Thank you," said Dylan to the Pokémon. Once again, words failed to convey the size of his thanks.

"Jangmo-o," was his answer, but strangely, he could understand the 'I won't abandon you' clearly in that moment.

He continued to pet the dragon for a while, his heart slowly calming down bit by bit, until he heard a knock at the door.

"My boy, breakfast is ready. Are you finished?"

"Yeah, I am." He gave the Jangmo-o one last pat before the small dragon hopped off his legs and Dylan stood up, cleaning the last of his tears with his sleeves.

He opened the door and found the analytical face of Mister Ratell, mouth twitching just a fraction before it settled into a smile. "I am glad the clothes fit; we usually have spares if one gets damaged by a Pokémon." He began to direct him past corridors with landscape paintings to what he supposed was the dining room. "You feeling better after that shower, lad?"

"Much better, thank you."

The man nodded once.

As they walked, Jangmo-o following close by, he spied green hills by the windows, or plains that had Ponytas, Meganiums, and other Pokémon grazing on them, as well as several perches with bird Pokémon sitting on them. He almost crashed against a table when he got too distracted looking at them, yet his eyes didn't stop looking, too curious not to. That almost made him fall down the stairs.

He knew they had reached the dining room when he smelled a delicious scent wafting in the air and was not disappointed when the dining table welcomed him with a full glass of orange juice and some scrambled eggs sitting on a plate, all accompanied by pancakes. What gave him a slight pause was the bipedal blue and black jackal that was finishing setting the table, a metal spike growing past a purple apron with a gray pig holding a fork and a knife in it, tongue lolling out. Hands—or paws?—finishing putting the utensils as it quickly turned to the annexed kitchen and retrieved a pot from the fire, turning off the stove and putting what had to be some sort of hot jam in a pitcher.

He looked at him. "Lucario."

"Good morning to you, too." It apparently was the correct response, as the jackal nodded and gestured to the table, which had the arrangement of three plates on it.

He looked at Jangmo-o. "What about him?"

The Lucario gesticulated to a smaller table with a bowl of assorted round brown things that looked so much like meatballs that he wondered where they get meat in a world where you could have a conversation with a beaver. Realizing that would ruin his appetite, he just sat on the table, taking stock of the scrumptious food in front of him.

The Lucario sat at the same time Mister Ratell did, not before taking the apron off and leaving it on the kitchen counter. Now that it was close, he could see a thin scar on its muzzle, as well as the 'mane' having greying hairs at the beginning, and thin grey streaks on them. There were more scars on its chest, albeit thin and well healed. He couldn't call it the body of a warrior, but he could see it had seen battles and taken tokens from them.

The Lucario clasped his hands together and gave a small nod.

"Thank you for the food," said the Ranch owner, with Dylan hurrying to copy the action; he didn't want to appear rude to the one who had helped him so much; it would be intolerable to his conscience.

"Lucario."

"Jangmo-o."

Having said that, they began to eat.

Dylan quickly decided it was one of the best breakfasts he had tasted and easily eclipsed all he had made over the years. The eggs were creamy with a flavor that was dissimilar from chicken, perhaps even better, and what he thought was orange was orange, albeit with another flavor mixed in, likely one of the many berries that grew on the Pokémon World. He knew that hot sauce that just melted on his mouth when combined with the pancakes definitely was a berry. He liked to think he ate primly, but it was likely he just shoveled it inside, as he hadn't noticed how hungry he really was until he sat down, and then all he cared for was eating as much of that delicious food as possible, making sure to expose his tongue to as many of the flavors as he could.

Sadly, the breakfast was eventually finished, and his satisfied stomach made him know that, while it was delicious, more food wasn't exactly a good idea.

"Delicious as always, Preston, you always impress," said Mister Ratell happily.

"Ah, thank you, Mister Preston, sir." Is that how you address a Pokémon, or do they prefer a more formal manner of address?

"Jang-Jangmo-o."

The blue Pokémon just huffed good-naturedly and waved his hand at him.

"No need to call him sir, lad, too formal for the old chap. For that matter, just call me Archibald; the 'sir' and 'mister' just made me feel ten years older than I already am!" He guffawed afterwards, a loud mirthful sound that seemed to light up the room and made Dylan chuckle alongside him.

"As you say, Archibald. As you say."

Mister— Archibald stood up. "Now, while we wait for Preston to clean up, why don't we chat for a bit while we are happy and full?"

"I can help with cleaning," he suggested, but the small shake of the head Preston gave a clear message: 'You are a guest; you do not clean'. Curious how human-like that politeness was.

"You better leave Preston to that, my boy; he doesn't like when others use his kitchen without approval," he said, a slightly joking edge to it. "Why, last time I tried he banned me from using it without supervision."

The absolutely deadpan look on the wolf's face made it clear Archibald had done something to deserve it, and he wouldn't accept being told otherwise.

Archibald laughed again and called Dylan forth with a wave of a hand, as he led him to another section of the house. Behind him, he could see the Lucario dexterously clean the table, picking up the dishes and stacking the glasses in a way Dylan was sure he himself would have broken up in a hundred pieces.

He gave the scene a last look before following Archibald, the Dragon-type never abandoning his side, dutifully walking in pace with him, claws surprisingly gentle on the wooden floor.

Archibald led him to a living room with green cushioned chairs and a decent-sized sofa, directing him to sit in one of them as he took a seat in another, the result ending with two men facing each other, with one of them cradling a dragon in his legs.

"Now, I think we can speak clearly. The workers are already tending to the Pokémon, so we should be able to talk without interruption," he said seriously. Then, he paused for a moment before adding with a grimace. "The Pokémon mimed to me that you jumped from a cliff; is that true, my boy?"

And there it was, the thing that he knew was coming but whose blow wasn't reduced in the slightest. He needed to come up with a plausible explanation that was believable and didn't make him look like a creep to his helper and possible salvation. He contemplated lying, telling the kind man that he had amnesia or something like that, covering up his true origins like a paranoid—no, like a coward—and then beg for his help. But that idea was discarded almost as fast as it was born; there were too many holes in it to be safe, not to mention he didn't fancy the guilt for lying to the face of the man who helped him so much out of the goodness of his heart. In conclusion, he decided to tell the truth; perhaps it was risky, and he could be labeled insane, but it was the only thing he could do at the moment.

"I come from another world where Pokémon are just fiction," he said, saying the most logical yet illogical thing he could at the moment.

The reaction he got was unexpected in its intensity; the man's eyes widened comically as he physically reeled backwards, hands holding the arms of the chair with an almost ridiculous grip, as his mouth hung open.

The Jangmo-o's reaction is not much different; eyes are now fully alert, trained on him and exuding an aura of sheer disbelief, but not the disbelief of seeing a lie, but the one present when one cannot process what has been said.

Taking refuge in that he hadn't been called a lying madman yet, Dylan continued, "I kinda died in a car crash, I think I did—" The man's eyes were glinting know as hands linked together and rubbed anxiously. "—and I found myself in this world, alone in a forest, in a body that I don't quite recognize. I thought I was in a coma, or that was my dying dream, and I— and I—" He paused at that, taking a small shuddering breath to compose himself before speaking again, "I jumped to wake up."

A mouth opened and closed without sound, much like his own not long ago, as eyes bore down on him again. The dragon was in a similar state, huffing anxiously and giving more purring rubs to him, and his hands once more found petting the creature that the day before Dylan thought nothing but a fantasy.

He continued, for it was the only thing stopping him from breaking down. "I know this is hard to believe, but I have nowhere to go, and I just wanted to ask if you have a job or anything that would help. I will take it. Even if you don't believe the story, please-"

He never got to finish speaking, as arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace. At the same time, he could feel smaller clawed appendages do the same.

"Oh, my boy, I believe you. You must have been through a lot."

His tears hadn't dried up, it seemed. "You do?" he sobbed.

The hug lasted a few moments more. When the man retreated, the kind look was back, accompanied by something else he couldn't make out. "Of course. I have been the owner of this Ranch for decades, and I have seen every flavor of scammer out there, from the ones selling oils that could turn a Seedot into a Garchomp, to land developers who thought a spa would be the next best thing in Arceus' world. And all of them, from the most stupid to the most intelligent, have enough sense to tell a believable lie.

"You, my boy, have told me something so crazy, so deranged, that not even the dumbest scammer would even consider using it in one of their schemes. Furthermore, I have been with Preston for years; his ability to separate lies from truth has rubbed off on me," he said, each word bringing a wave of relief to Dylan's mind, heart, and body.

Jangmo-o nodded his assent, and what he said next could only be described as companionship, the idea that he wouldn't leave, that they were a team now, all crammed together in a short and decisive growl, small licks of fire breathing past it; such was the resolve.

"You got the job, by the way."

That gave Dylan another tsunami of relief. "Really?"

"Of course, I would shame my kin if I left such a promising young man fend to himself now that he is more lost than anyone has ever been before. Furthermore, who am I to deny a trainer their own journey when they are back on his feet?" was the cheerful answer, a fire lit into his eyes, igniting old flames long buried.

The man stood up with Dylan following suit, the dragon preferring to climb up his shoulders rather than stepping off. "Since you are new here, it occurs to me that no one has welcomed you. So, on behalf of the people of this world, of Ratell Ranch, I, Archibald Ratell, bid you welcome to this beautiful Pokémon World of ours!" A hand was offered to him.

"Jangmo-o!"

There was a fresh wave of tears when his hand clasped the man's, joy and exhilaration he hadn't felt since the bygone days of his childhood, all mixing in a joyful wind, making his heart soar into new heights. "Thank you, I am now glad to be here."

"Jangmo-o, Jang!" He could hear and feel the support of the dragon, a comforting weight on his shoulder.

Because he may have lost everything, but he was no longer alone. And he had the feeling he would no longer be alone in that new and exciting reality, that he would have friends, that he, against what his initial fears suggested, would be able to happily enjoy his new world.

---

It was a bigger thing than Jangmo-o had ever imagined. Another world? And one having the unbelievable quality of being devoid of any Pokémon whatsoever but in fiction? That was the kind of thing only idiots lied about. True, the human–Dylan, he reminded himself—was kind of an idiot, but it was the idiot he decided to follow, and thus, the idiot he decided to believe.

He may have been called a disaster on that island, one that couldn't be trusted to look after the Fief, but there he chose that it did not matter; he could take care of that human, of the one he decided to accompany. Unlike his brethren, he never believed in destiny or such things, but he did believe in choice, and he thought at that moment, when, regardless of what happened to him, he jumped after that human, that he would be the one to accompany him wherever he may go. It was an odd feeling, but his heart told him it was the correct choice, that it was that human who could bring forth his true strength.

That will show everyone back home that I wasn't wrong. That he could be strong like all the others. That he didn't need to stay on that island like the rest. He recognized it may be a selfish thing, but he would go through it to the end.

He had a feeling that all those days starving on that boat would finally bear fruit: he was no longer confined to the island; he was the true expression of a dragon. He was free. Free and strong.

He would have to say sorry to the Aipom and the Bidoofs when he had the chance; they shared the berries, with the human somehow making it work, and they helped him so they at least deserved that. Being free didn't mean being ungrateful.

There was only one thing that annoyed him, a single thing that obfuscated him.

That dumb and weird Bidoof was right all along.

Ugh, I will give him some berries for that, was his thought as he comforted the crying human, eager to start his new life in the new region.

Things were looking up.

---

Hello there! Second chapter. Thank you for all the likes and comments; they really make my day,

Have a good day and see you next time!

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

"This is where we kept the medical supplies, potions, and assorted things in case of emergency," explained Archibald, opening the small cabin and letting him see rows of plastic bottles with many labels and boxes with bandages, braces, and even needles. "It is unlikely for the Pokémon here to be hurt, but occasionally scuffles break out among them, and they need medicine as a result. Nothing too bad, but it is good to be prepared. And if anything too extreme happens, we call the Pokémon Center."

Dylan dutifully nodded, noting everything in the small red notebook Archibald had kindly provided for him, the Jangmo-o on his shoulders taking stock of the situation, its red eyes lingering on the oddly shaped bottles before looking at the other things. He had changed into the green uniform that the Ranch Owner wore, emblazoned with a Girafarig and the name of the Ranch, Ratell, written in white, covering a pale blue shirt that combined with his recently dyed anime hair. A day after his confession, Archibald had taken him under his wing, instructing him on everything he should do and know as the newest employee of the Ranch.

He was paying rapt attention to everything Archibald said, his mind committing every bit of it to memory, so he could do his job well and not mess everything up by hurting the Pokémon that would soon be under his care.

"Now, as a newbie, you will brush and take care of the Pokémon in here, among other things. The food will be something you will learn to help with later, as it is specially prepared since we do not use… pre-prepared food—" He bit that part out as it had personally offended him and his family. "—so the requirements may be a bit specific for you to know now. You may be asked to feed them, though." Dylan nodded at that, exiting the cabin and following Archibald into the open green fields where several Pokémon were already peacefully grazing; a trio of Meganiums sat down together, the flowers on their necks an intense red, except for the middle one, which was a bright yellow, fully open, taking in sunlight as their contented faces were a bit drowsy.

The Ranch itself was bigger than he had anticipated, with areas dedicated to distinct types of Pokémon, not only divided by type but also physiognomy, a detail that Archibald explained was very much important, as it facilitated their care.

"We also have the luck to be associated with the esteemed Pokémon Laboratory of Ambrose Rowan, since we also share some space in Sandgem Town—" Oh, and wasn't that an important detail and a very curious one too. "—and that gives us not only a generous budgetary perk but responsibility. We are expected to adhere to certain standards when dealing with our Pokémon inhabitants."

"So, you are Archibald Ratell, and he is Ambrose Rowan?"

The man laughed good-naturedly. "I know; we were told much the same when we were young. Old chap seemed to like it, though."

"You know each other?" asked Dylan.

"Since we were wee lads, my boy," he responded. Dylan filed that for later.

There were a lot of Pokémon being taken care of by the many farmhands that worked there, who, as Archibald had told him, came from either Sandgem or Twinleaf, which was a thirty-minute walk away or just 10 or fewer minutes if you have a Pokémon that could help.

"We may not be Brilliant Diamond or Shining Pearl, but that won't stop us from being the best Ranch we can," he said.

Wait, what? "Brilliant Diamond and Shining Pearl?"

Archibald nodded. "Ah, they are the personal ranches of the Diamond and Pearl Clans, respectively. They are considered the elite of the elite. Normally, their Ranches are just for the families that make up the Clans, but they reserve some spots for the rich and famous. As a result, they have the reputation of being the most luxurious and well-equipped Pokémon care facilities in Sinnoh; some even claim that of the whole world.

"I was in those once," he whistled nostalgically, "They were gigantic acres of land on the outskirts of Jubilife, with top-tier equipment accompanied by exclusive providers from everything from food to bedding. Fitting for what is basically Sinnohi aristocracy. That doesn't mean our own Ranch is anything lesser; I've made this place one that can stand on its own," he added with pride brimming in his words.

Dylan just nodded, more interested in the coincidence of the names of those places. Odd to be sure, but in the end, he just chalked it to just that, a coincidence. Choosing to redirect his attention to the differences between them and Ratell Ranch. It was likely, since it was associated with Professor Rowan's lab and he gives out starters—is that still a thing, or is it different from the games?—that Ratell was geared more towards common trainers and people, seeking to be more accessible to them, since he guessed not every trainer was swimming in money.

Jangmo-o was observing him, like he always had since his confession to Archibald; he was like his own personal guard, his dragon knight, ready to protect him. Strangely, he didn't doubt he would do that, an almost instinctual feeling telling him he just gained a companion. That made him break out into a smile; it was very nice to know that.

They reached an area with two humans and one Pokémon who were carrying several buckets of food. Two men and one woman, accompanied by a Herdier, noticed them and waved animatedly as they approached.

"Hey, Archie, is that the newbie you mentioned?" said the woman, her peppy voice denoting her young age, longish brow hair falling past black eyes. The uniform wrapped around a thin body.

"Carrie, be polite," said the man, black-haired and blue-eyed, as he gave him a small apologetic inclination of the head. "Good morning, mister Archibald."

The Herdier woofed amicably.

"One of these days I will get you to drop the mister, Tom," responded the man with a laugh. He patted Dylan's back, pushing him a bit towards the couple of humans there. "This is Dylan; I have been giving him a tour of the place." His voice was reassuring, almost like a parent who was introducing his kid to the neighbors. "You will help show him the ropes."

"Good to meet you all," said Dylan, slightly nervous at the prospect. He didn't fancy his chances at passing as a native inhabitant of this world. His best option was to pretend he came from another region and thus wasn't too well informed in the affairs of Sinnoh. He hoped his plan would hold. "I'm Dylan, and this is Jangmo-o." He gestured to the dragon that was still on his shoulders.

"Jangmo-o."

"Hi there, Dylan. Welcome to the ranch!" was the animated answer of Carrie. "Hello to you too, cutie!" Jangmo-o gave an annoyed snort at that, likely considering himself more of a cool guy than a cute one.

"It is good to have you on board," said Tom placidly.

"I'll leave you to it then! Show him how to brush the equines. He will be in that area for the first week." Archibald patted his shoulder before walking away, giving him an encouraging smile that Dylan tried to return. "I will be taking care of something before returning to check up on you kids." Jangmo-o laughed at the woman's quiet 'I'm twenty-three', a draconic puff of smoke passing past his maw.

Both humans nodded, albeit one did so more enthusiastically than the other.

They began to walk alongside him, directing him to a building not too far away from them where several equine Pokémon were, as they carried different colored buckets in their hands, with the Herdier having been strapped with a big one on his back, carrying another on his mouth with little trouble.

He could see Zebstrikas and Rapidash looking at them and beginning to advance to the building on their own, likely realizing it was time for their lunch, forming what almost seemed like a procession to him.

"Don't worry, newbie, I will show you the ropes of this job," said Carrie animatedly. "And Herdie here will help you if you ever need it."

"Woof." The dog gave a small nod of the head.

"Oh, thank you, miss Carrie."

"No, no, no. Don't 'miss' me. I am in the flower of my youth. Don't make me feel old," she pouted. "Just Carrie will do. Same for that grump over there." She pointed to the man walking beside them, who only sighed in response. "He will get a bigger head than he has, if that's even possible."

Dylan laughed as they reached the stable, where several Pokémon had already gathered, who had divided themselves by species and type on their own. Well, that's something horses back home definitely could not do.

"If you look at the buckets, you will notice they come in different colors," said Tom, raising the red buckets in his hands, Dylan's eyes flitting over the others, which he could see were yellow instead. "The red ones have Cheri and Leppa Berries, which are beloved by equine-type Pokémon, particularly the Rapidash line. The yellow ones have Nomel Berries, which are for Zebstrika, as their sourness is mostly appreciated by Electric-types, so their food is separate from the rest."

Dylan nodded, committing those to memory. It was an interesting tidbit of data, and it made sense that something as important as typing would influence a Pokémons diet. It simply made sense, yet he felt dumb as he hadn't thought of that until now.

Tom and Carrie began to pour the contents into the feed buckets, and the Pokémon happily chowed down their food, their munches slow and measured as they savored the food, another difference that this world had.

The closest Pokémon to him was a Rapidash, and he could see the flames dancing on its back as it ate. The sight fascinated him; there was a real flame dancing on a horse, and the people nearby weren't screaming and reaching for buckets of water, nor was the creature in any pain. It just placidly ate its food.

What produced the flames? Was it a dedicated organ or something similar? Did it require oxygen like a normal flame? What would happen if it got wet? How come such Pokémon aren't walking forest fires? Two arched reddish eyes looked at him, and he realized he had gotten close to the Pokémon, and it now was staring quizzically at him, asking what he was doing.

"You okay there, Dylan?" asked Carrie. "You zoned out there for a moment."

He blushed and sputtered an apology, giving the Fire-type some space as he backtracked a bit and pointed his attention to the woman. "Yeah, yeah, I just got curious. Never seen a Rapidash before."

"Really? They are pretty popular around here… Say, where are you from anyway?"

"West," he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

He received an arched eyebrow in response. "Kanto? Johto?"

"Far west," his useless mouth blurted again.

"Hoenn?" Tom said curiously.

He gave a nervous laugh. "Not exactly, I don't think it's on any maps."

The curious looks on their faces just intensified at that comment.

"Wow, you must be from some small region, huh? What's its name?"

He tried to blurt the name of one of the regions that appeared on Pokémon Rangers when Jangmo-o's growl reached his ears, a rumbling sound that reverberated in his head. Teeth showing to the pair of humans in front of him, as claws dug into his shoulders, ready to jump them.

Herdier's own growl came soon after, taking a defensive position in front of the pair of humans, who seemed surprised by the turn of events.

"Wait, Jangmo-o, don't worry, I'm fine," he said, hoping to calm the situation. A fight on his first day was the last thing he needed. He patted his head with his hand, feeling the smooth texture of his scales on his skin. The growl got lower and lower until it disappeared as Jangmo-o's posture relaxed, but not before giving a small huff in the direction of Herdier.

Dylan gave the others a nervous smile. "Sorry for that; I didn't leave home in a good state, so…" He left that part hanging, hoping to communicate to some degree that he didn't want to talk about it.

The surprised expression disappeared from their faces, replaced by a more kind one. "I understand, my apologies for bringing up that, Dylan," said Carrie. "Sorry, Jangmo-o."

Herdier eased up his posture and shuffled closer to Carrie.

"Jang."

"You have a very loyal Pokémon there," said Tom. "Dragons usually are very picky who they follow, and I hear the Jangmo-o line is even more so. You are a lucky man to have such a devoted companion."

"I know," he said, and he meant every word. He was truly lucky that Jangmo-o was the one that found him and that he decided to follow him as he learned how to live in that new world. It was then that he noticed all the equines were looking at him, heads raised past their feed buckets and staring silently at them. But as soon as they noticed his eyes on them, they returned to eating their food.

Will those reactions ever cease to surprise him?

"Bunch of gossips," said Carrie. "Really, they should have better hobbies."

Dylan laughed. "I think maintaining the fire on their backs must be quite the hobby on its own, no?"

Tom shook his head. "Not as much as you think. It can go off without damaging the Pokémon, and it generally isn't hot enough to burn anything, and when it does, it burns without fire, so it isn't as dangerous as you think. Most fire coats function under a similar principle."

Huh, that explains a lot but raises even more questions. I don't know if this place would make physics cry in joy for the discoveries or weep in despair at the lack of logic.

"Come, now we have to brush them when they finish. The others will take care of the rest of the Pokémon." Tom beckoned him with a wave of the hand, guiding him to a brushing set near the edge of the building.

What followed was time in which he was instructed on the best ways to groom the horse, making sure he knew which spots were more sensitive than the others, and which were considered impolite to even groom without explicit consent from the Pokémon. All the while he was regaled with the background of Carrie and Tom, who had taken his lack of dialogue due to being engrossed with the incredible creatures in front of him as shyness and had proceeded to take the reins of the conversation themselves.

Carrie was an animated woman, always starting to talk on her own, leading the topic of her own Pokémon Journey when she was young. "I got Herdie from my grandpa; he is Unovan, you see, and he thought they were even better than a typical starter and wouldn't take a no for an answer. I caught Lily and Daisy, a Burmy and a Poochyena, and managed to get three badges before I got too homesick and went straight back. I liked taking care of them more than battling, so I knew I wanted to get into Pokémon care then."

The Rapidash fire was less like a flame and more like warm water; he could put his hand in the middle of the waving red and yellows and only feel a slight and comfortable warmth. The normal hair itself was like a warm blanket, and Dylan supposed Fire-types must run on hotter temperatures than other Pokémon. He found himself rubbing the flame and keeping his hand in it, the wonder he felt making his heart beat happily in his chest. He slowed a bit in his ministrations when he noticed the strange looks the Pokémon were giving him.

Tom was more polite and reserved, only speaking when spoken to first. Still, he seemed content to help him with any question he asked.

"I got my Turtwig as a starter and set off on a journey with her. I've liked learning since I was little, and that hasn't changed on my journey. My story isn't as interesting as Carrie's; I caught a Wormadam and a Vibrava before enrolling in Jubilife School to learn more about Pokémon. I only got two badges before deciding to dedicate myself fully to learning about Pokémon, since I discovered early I enjoyed seeing battles but not much participating in them."

The Zebstrika were curious; their fur carried a certain tingliness in certain areas, almost like a rug filled with static, that seemed to disappear when his hand stayed on them too much. The fur itself was soft and well-groomed, and his hand almost felt like it was sinking into an electric massage chair when he left it too long in a fixed position. Similarly to the Rapidash, the Zebstrika looked at him questioningly when he stared at it too much.

"Ah, sorry," he said. "It's just I had never seen something so wonderful." All Pokémon were wonderful in his opinion.

The equine huffed embarrassedly, red flooding the white spots on its face as its eyes averted Dylan's gaze. The nearby Pokémon gave snorts that were obviously laughs, ribbing their stablemate for all its worth.

"Oh my, we have a Luvdisc here," joked Carrie. "Careful there, you wouldn't want to break any hearts, would you?"

Dylan blushed. "I just think all Pokémon are wonderful," he stammered out, as he could feel the rumbling laughs coming from the reptile on his shoulder, obviously amused at his predicament.

"They are, aren't they?" said Tom. "I get what you mean; that's why I decided to work on Pokémon care."

Dylan nodded; he could see himself doing that… Or could he? One of the things he hadn't thought about was what he was going to do going forward. Just working on the Ranch sounded attractive; he could meet a lot of Pokémon that way and make money to support himself and Jangmo-o. But a nagging, alluring voice on the back of his head wanted the joy of his own Pokémon journey, to challenge gyms and catch new Pokémon, battling his way to the top. His childhood dreams never seemed so close and so far away. True, he doubted Archibald would stop him, but he also needed money, and his finances were charitably called strained right now, and he wouldn't bolt so fast without paying Archibald back for all his selfless help.

Another part wondered that, even if he did the journey and won… what then? He didn't know what that meant, what being a member of the Elite Four of the Champion entailed, so he couldn't say he would do a good job at it. He was sure it was more than the games made it up to be; the strongest Trainer in the Region must have other responsibilities besides battling challengers.

And lastly, another part of him was just so happy to be in the Pokémon World, despite the losses it incurred in his life, that it was simply content to live there without the need to adventure or do anything of the sort. So, in conclusion, he had no idea what to do going forward, but at least he had the current plan of working with Archibald to build a semblance of savings before even thinking about it. All with Jangmo-o by his side, a companion that probably had no idea how much his presence calmed his heart. He could at least use these first months to acclimate himself to the world he now lives in before deciding anything. Yes, that sounded like a solid plan.

His musings ended at the same time Jangmo-o hopped off his shoulders, and Dylan looked to see three approaching Pokémon run towards him: an Aipom and two Bidoofs, big smiles on their faces as they came closer to him.

"Hey, guys!" he found himself saying. "Good to see you again!"

"Aipom!"

"Doof, Bidoof!"

One of the beavers jumped to his chest, making him stumble and fall ass first into the floor. The other two Pokémon used that opportunity to come closer to his face and examine it, and smile when they found a laugh on his face and life in his eyes. He supposed jumping from a cliff did give them quite a scare, if the almost desperate nuzzling from the Bidoof in his chest was any indication.

He patted the beaver back, his hand burying themselves on the soft fur that made up its body, the other two Pokémon laughing as he did so. "Sorry for the scare, guys, and thank you so much for bringing me here."

"Ai-Aipom."

"Doof!"

"Bidoof!"

At the interested faces of his coworkers, he explained what he thought he could explain, "These are the Pokémon who brought me here. I got kind of lost, and they helped me come here and introduced me to Archibald. So, I owe them quite a lot." He turned to the Pokémon. "Guys, these are Carrie and Tom; I work here now with them."

The Aipom raised a hand in greeting. "Pom."

"Oh, well, nice to meet you guys!" She seemed to want to ask more but restrained herself from doing so, likely in consideration of what he said moments before.

Tom gave a polite nod of the head. "Good day to you, and thank you for helping him."

The Pokémon smiled as Jangmo-o got closer and gave a single lick and nuzzle to the Aipom, before retreating to Dylan and jumping in one go to his shoulder again. It seemed he had decided that was his place for the moment.

"I'm working right now, so perhaps you could wait until I finish so we could play or something?"

The Pokémon nodded for a moment before freezing and wildly looking from side to side as the Aipom gave him a last wave of the hand before darting over the fence, the Bidoof in his chest giving a last nuzzle before following suit. The change was sudden enough to surprise Dylan, as he saw the three Pokémon run like death was on their heels.

The apparent cause became known when he stood up and saw a gigantic bug approaching the stables, a purple and black thing that towered over him and came closer with a grace and silence he didn't expect of something that size. The Scolipede's yellow eyes scanned the stables, noticed him there, and came close, eyes boring into his as a head was lowered to examine him better, taking every inch of his face into account.

"Jangmo-o." The tone was slightly reproachful, but the Bug gave only a chitter in response before raising his head and examining its surroundings, directing an inquiring look in their direction.

"Are you searching for someone?" asked Tom. "I haven't seen anybody come; I'm sorry to say."

"What he said," said Carrie.

The Bug-type gave a displeased chirp before locking eyes on Dylan. "Sorry, buddy."

Narrowed eyes stared back at him before raising its head and giving a chittering screech. "Scoli!"

"Doof!" That sound made the Bug smile and run towards where the sound originated, a smarmy smile on its face.

Dylan looked at the two humans in the stable. "Should we help or something?"

Tom shook his head. "Don't worry, Scolipede is not malicious or anything; he just likely demanded a massage or something. He is like that."

"They aren't in danger, so don't worry." Carrie smiled at him.

Dylan nodded, that Scolipede must be from some strong trainer, being a last-stage evolution and all.

Hey, since I'm thinking about trainers and all that…

"Hey, Tom, Carrie," he began, "you caught your Pokémon, right?"

Both humans looked at each other. "Yes?"

"Can you teach me how to use a Pokéball?"

Both seemed very surprised by that question. Not that he blamed them. But, after they had finished their chores and he received extensive training on how to release a Pokémon, activate the return function of both the creature and the Pokéball itself, among other things, Dylan was in a sequestered corner of the Ranch, a bit tired from all he had to do on the day, but happy to reach that point.

The single Pokéball that somehow appeared on his person on what seemed an eternity ago was empty, even though it appeared there was a mystery. He had asked his coworkers if the model or design was odd, but only got the answer that nothing was amiss. As far as they were concerned, it was a perfectly normal Pokéball, with nothing notable about it.

Except I'm pretty sure it didn't exist before I came to this world.

For a moment, his nerves debated about buying a new one, but a feeling hidden in the back of his head stopped him. Whatever brought him here, he doubted would boobytrap a Pokéball, so he thought it would be safe to use, symbolic even; something that belonged in the world, guiding and signaling belonging to something that did not. A bit poetic, but it would do.

Jangmo-o was sitting on the grass, scarlet, slitted eyes looking at him with more courage than he was feeling as he fiddled with the small sphere in his hands; the red and white ball had a very smooth surface, almost unnaturally so, without any imperfections he could feel. Tom and Carrie were nearby; they had wanted to see the capture, and he couldn't refuse after the help they had given him. Carrie had managed to find Archibald and bring him there in record time, his Lucario following him, the jackal staring respectfully for the moment when their companionship would be truly sealed.

Jangmo-o had found no issue with the audience, and was almost eager for it, like he was glad there were witnesses for the moment. On the other hand, Dylan had found himself getting nervous, the many eyes felt on his skin, making his hair stand on end despite the utter lack of animosity directed at him. He could feel their kindness and enthusiasm reserved when one knew someone would do something that they knew was cool by experience.

The Dragon-type stared at him, silently urging him with his eyes to proceed.

Given that, well, how could he not obey his Pokémon?

"Here I come!" His hands gripped the ball as he threw the Pokéball, the sphere spinning before impacting Jangmo-o, whose very body shone with a red-white light before losing cohesion and disassembling in a show that either sang with physics or kicked it in the shin, flowing into the Pokéball until every part of what was the Dragon was now in there.

The ball twitched once, twice, thrice… Before stilling and the small red dot that was blinking disappearing with a ping.

And so, Dylan Gallagher captured his very first Pokémon.

"Congratulations, my boy! May Arceus grant your companionship time and space to grow!"

Tom and Carrie clapped animatedly. "Way to go, Dylan!"

He walked to the Pokéball resting on the grass and lifted it in his hands before releasing Jangmo-o in a flash of blue and white light, his form solidifying in an instant.

Jangmo-o had a wide and toothy smile splitting his face, joy infused in every part of it.

Dylan mirrored that expression, and Jangmo-o jumped on his shoulders once more, as deep rumbling purrs reverberated through his body, filling him with glee.

It felt awesome; it really did. His journey was really beginning.

---

Later, when all the excitement had calmed down and his workday had ended, Dylan found himself in a large study filled with an immense quantity of books ranging from everything from Pokémon care to history, all lining wooden shelves running along the walls. Archibald had led him there, saying that 'Every trainer must know things besides battling,' which he supposed was fair, but he could feel there was intent behind the words and he didn't miss how he hadn't voiced his own goals, dubious and formless as they were. Still, Archibald and Lucario led him there and left him to his own devices, arguing that he himself must choose what interests him, as discovering a good book on his own was as exciting as winning a battle.

He honestly hadn't expected a study this big to be in the Ranch House, but he was proven wrong by its size. It was really a marvel to behold, a treasure trove of knowledge hidden in a corner of the house. The edifice itself had proven to be the charming dream of every cozy video YouTuber that surfed the internet. With the rustic finishes in wood and the Pokémon decorations that before only belonged in a fanatic's home were now simply part of the décor. From Clefable carvings in the wood to Magikarp watering cans.

Jangmo-o had followed him through that house, shining as he had done since he caught him moments ago, no longer on his shoulders but beside him, walking like a guardian at his side.

There were too many books to choose from, the topics too captivating to ignore. After all, they were about the history and creatures from another world; what could be more interesting?

Deciding to pick one at random lest he found himself standing hours just browsing, he picked a book called Organization of Wild Pokémon and sat in a plush chair in the two-floor study. Jangmo-o climbed again to his body where he could read comfortably, and it was then that Dylan could help but voice his surprise. "You know how to read?" Jangmo-o was wild, and while he didn't doubt Pokémon would be capable of learning, he didn't think a wild one like Jangmo-o would know.

The Dragon gave a proud snort.} 'Of course I know, who do you take me for?' was what was said. He didn't need to know Pokémon speech to understand that.

Then strange letters filled the page in black ink and vivid colored images. He had spent many hours on why exactly he could understand that alien language with the same ease as his mother tongue, but so far had found no answers. It was simply something that was introduced to his mind without his knowledge or consent, and while he was grateful he was able to communicate with the locals, part of him couldn't help but be disquieted by that. After all, if a whole new lexicon could be introduced without trouble, what else could be just hanging around in his head?

For the moment, and perhaps unwisely, he just decided to let it be. He had no power regarding it, and neither he nor Jangmo-o could find anything to do after he confided in his Dragon about that. The Pokémon had just stared seriously and made a small growl. That was all they could do. Of course, the option to let a Psychic-type rummage his head to see if something was wrong was possible as far as he had discovered, but the likelihood they could reach something secret—like nuclear bombs or a biological weapon from Earth—and use it was too dangerous to condone the idea.

Shaking his head from those thoughts, he patted the Pokémon before starting to read, as minutes began to trickle.

Fiefs

A Pokémon Coalition Territory, more commonly known as Fiefs, is an area present in the Pokései that has a human-like organization of its Pokémon participants. The term itself is based on old human ways of government, due to the similarities present in the Pokémon one. A Fief, by definition, is a group of Pokémon of varying composition working under the command of an individual or a group of Pokémon, with clear delegated roles to the different members of the group. These roles vary from food collectors to healers, to diplomats, to other nearby Fiefs, if those exist in the vicinity.

Three types of Fiefs have been identified: Individualistic, Familial, and Clan.

Individualistic Fiefs are, as the name suggests, based on the leadership of a single Pokémon and its close confidants, who manage the different parts of the territory. That Inner Circle is personally chosen by the 'Heart', the leader of the group, taking into account their abilities; the second in command is usually called First Fang, a name that is shared among all three configurations of Fiefs. This configuration is more common with longer-lived Pokémon, such as Dragon, Ghost, Fairy, and inorganic Pokémon, as their lifespan make feasible for them to control an entire area for decades or even centuries.

However, these types of Fiefs have the highest chance of crumbling down once the Heart disappears, as the glue that kept them together is gone. There have been cases where the Inner Circle turns on each other, wanting mating or food rights, causing the collapse of the Fief due to infighting. The dissolution of it usually results in the subsequent fracturing of the components of the Fief, with its members either choosing to stay in the now wild land or to move to a nearby Fief, leveraging their experiences as a possibility of getting a new position. There have also been cases where the Heart is deposed by a newcomer, resulting in it being exiled, though it is not always the case. Charicific Valley in Kanto is an example of an Individualistic and monocomposed Fief, where the strongest Charizard gets the benefits of being the Heart, yet that carries its own risk, as it is constantly in danger of being deposed. Albeit in this case, the loser is not exiled, as much as it is reassigned to a lower echelon of the hierarchy.

Familial Fiefs are composed of a family of Pokémon that rules the area, their members controlling part of the territory to ensure it functions smoothly. Many Individualistic Fiefs transform into one of these as a natural part of their growth, leading many to believe a Familial Fief is the proper end of an Individualistic one, at least regarding its own long-term survival. This kind of structuring lends itself to lasting, as its solid base provides the requirements to properly stop the weakness of having a single individual be solely responsible for the continuity of the Fief.

This Fief functions very similarly to noble families in humans, where the younglings are trained in the art of statecraft so they can rule adequately when they grow older. In this case, the younger generation is instructed by the older generation on maintaining the Fief and its inhabitants, making it one of the rare cases where hereditary succession is present in the behavior of wild Pokémon, without any kind of human influence. An example of this is in the outskirts of Nimbasa City, where a Conkeldurr Familial Unit has established a Fief since the foundation of the city in 2855 A.S, and continues to this day; the area in which it resides is declared a Regional Patrimony by the Unova League and the Rangers Association.

Clan Fiefs, or Kingdoms, as they are known in Kalos, Galar, and Orre, are the largest known Fiefs to date, consisting of several Familial Units working in tandem to protect their territory from intrusions, be it from Pokémon or humans, usually under the leadership of a lead family. These are the hardest to form and maintain naturally, as they require a certain number of participants to properly work, with the respective territory so each family does not need to fight for space or resources with its fellow members. They are known to hold 'meetings' or roundtables to properly discuss their issues, and it is in these Fiefs that buildings were found, at least, the Pokémon version of one, in many cases hollowed trees or caves serving as dedicated nurseries, healing rooms, or meeting rooms.

While their upkeep requires several elements to make it last, when it does, it remains for decades and even centuries. This is by far the rarest form of Fief documented to date, with only small numbers found in the wild. The most well-known and studied to date are the four Clans of Alola, each claiming an entire island as their territory. These are the Golden Leaves Fief, the Azure Waves Fief, the Singing Sky Fief, and the Light Steel Fief. Respectively, they claim dominion over Melemele Island, Akala Island, Ula'ula Island, and Poni Island. They regularly hold summits to discuss the state of the island and are reported to invite the Island Kahuna to their reunions. Despite this, not much else is known about them, as Alola holds them as very important parts of their culture, considering the reunions they have are sacred and vital for the stable growth of the island; as such, attempts to study them were denied by the Kahunas, arguing that such crucial events should not be meddled with by humans. Still, there are ongoing petitions made to the ruling Kahunas of the island to allow a team of dedicated Pokémon researchers to attend one of the council meetings, though some members of the community call them a foolish effort.

There is no unanimous consensus on what causes a Fief to form, though many suggest seeking safety and leadership in the wild helps create the foundation of one, as well as the proper geographical capabilities to host them. Many posit that a possible connection to humanity was what inspired them to form their own form of civilization, although this is debated, as many ruins depict the earlier recorded versions of Fiefs, which seem to indicate Pokémon co-habitation precedes the human one.

This aligns with several historical moments in history, with the presence of said Fiefs indicating humans may have developed civilization through observation of the Pokémon one, further strengthening the connection between humans and Pokémon. This book aims to demonstrate the effects of self-governed Pokémon organizations, not just Fiefs, in the construction of human history, taking into account the interaction these kinds of groups have had with humans and other Pokémon.

Dylan stopped reading and glanced at the window, the setting sun informing him he had spent a lot of time reading the books in the small library present in the house. Yet, time seemed to slow when he read, the topic too interesting to ignore. Jangmo-o likely felt something similar as he was on his shoulders, intently glancing at the pages. However, the displeased lilt of his head and the rumbling growl building in his throat told him he wasn't exactly pleased with what the letters on the pages were telling.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at his Pokémon, but got no answer in return, just a shake of the head and jumping off to the floor.

Was he part of a Fief? He wondered. It wouldn't be out of the question, given what he had just learned about Alola, but there was also the chance he was from Paldea or other regions he hadn't heard about. He would like to ask, but that reaction seemed to indicate he wasn't very willing to answer, and even if he did, Dylan didn't know how to speak Pokémon; he would likely not understand the answer.

He followed Jangmo-o, but not before putting the book back where it was, putting it neatly between History of Dragons and Legends of Hisui. Two books he wanted to read when he got the chance.

There was a delectable new smell that wafted in the air. Signaling his stomach that new food was coming.

However, before he could go to satiate the needs of his stomach, Jangmo-o interrupted him, his jaws clamping around the boot of his pants and leading him towards the book he just stored in the shelves. Dylan followed him, curious of what he would show him.

A claw pointed at the book and them himself. "Jangmo-o, Jang, Jang."

"Do you want to read it?" he asked.

A vigorous shake of the head was his answer. "Jang." He pointed at himself, or more specifically, at his mouth.

"No, you cannot eat it," he joked.

Jangmo-o's dry look was a fast response to that jest. The small dragon pointed to his teeth, to his fangs, and then to Dylan, an odd and intense look shining in his eyes. Fangs? Oh, the First Fang, I remember reading about them.

"I am your First Fang?" he said.

The Dragon-type gave a frustrated growl before pointing at himself and then at Dylan. "Oh, you are my First Fang?"

The Pokémon gave a happy nod. Dylan was now sure Jangmo-o was part of a Fief before becoming his Pokémon, and he had a good idea of where. But that still didn't tell him why his Pokémon had left, or why he had looked so haggard when they met, and it seemed he wasn't ready to tell. However, he hazarded that he still had some lingering attachments to his old home; after all, the term First Fang seemed to have an emotional impact on him, almost like he needed to become that, at least that was his supposition. It may be different from Jangmo-o's reality.

Regarding the name, he wasn't sure how to feel about it. On one hand, he was incredibly happy Jangmo-o felt the need to hold such a position, but on the other hand, he wasn't entirely sure what it entailed, and given how important it seemed to him, he was afraid to muck something up or do things wrong and disappoint his Pokémon. That would be a weight he wouldn't want to bear. But he could also see the burning desire in the scarlet eyes of the dragon; it signaled that it wasn't something he wanted, but something he needed, that his heart sang for and he wouldn't be daunted in attaining it. And with that kind of resolve, what kind of resistance could his fears hope to mount?

"Very well, then." He crouched to Jangmo-o's height and extended a hand. "I accept you as my First Fang, Jangmo-o. May we grow together." The dragon's claws interlocked with his fingers as both pairs of red eyes looked at each other with wordless emotions. A part of him could tell that they would be together until the end; it was a certainly odd feeling, but he knew that moment, despite not being in a raging storm or the peak of a mountain, would always be remembered by him.

After a minute, both let go, and Dylan stood up to his full height. "Jangmo-o."

"Let's go, my First Fang."

The dragon yipped and followed him up to dinner.

---

The sun was setting on Poni Island, the light rays bouncing off the walls of the canyon, the colors shining with a beauty even centuries later he appreciated like he was seeing it for the first time. A reminder of the beauty of the world he and his Clan swore to protect for all time.

The Kommo-o stayed where he was, just basking in the moment, even when that nagging feeling he had gained the day he went missing refused to disappear, instead choosing to stubbornly stay in the corners of his mind, a weed that refused to go away no matter the situation, and always amplified every moment that preceded it with a magnifying glass.

"Lord Ferrum, I have the daily report ready." Another Kommo-o came near him; the visage of the First Fang was one of a warrior. A big scar crossed his face, narrowly missing his eyes, and went all the way down his neck; the coloration of his body warped in that spot, a testament to the battles he had survived over the decades. He was only two hundred and ten years old; some would call it too young for the position of First Fang, but Ferrum had not been disappointed by his accomplishments and behavior, as it was everything he wanted and more.

"Tell me, what occurred in this day?" he asked.

"The land territories have been at peace, no strange movements have been detected, and the Trials of the humans have developed correctly, albeit there were no challengers to the Fief today," he said dutifully, the information committed to memory and likely rehearsed before being delivered to him. "Totem Gumshoos' daughter is growing as expected and is being trained by her father to relieve him of his duties as planned. Her growth is appropriate, and the end of her journey is approaching fast. If everything goes well, the Investiture Ceremony is planned to be held at the end of the year."

Ferrum nodded; the youngling's dedication to her duty was commendable, and Ferrum hoped she would be a good replacement, committed to her duty and unfailing in the protection of their island, as decreed by the Guardian Deities ages ago. Failing that duty was unthinkable.

"Regarding the water territories, the migration of the Lumineon Fief is demanding extra territory to feed this year; the algae forest is currently being used by them to feed their young despite the Pyukumuku's objections. Totem Wishiwashi is mediating a small space to grant them during their stay, but they are demanding the entirety of it, citing the growing numbers of their youth as a necessity for bigger territory."

"Grant them a ten percent extra cut of the territory and distribute berries from the reserves to the Pyukumuku as compensation. However, remind the Lumineon that the territory is generously being shared by Totem Wishiwashi; they must not overreach their stay nor demand more hospitality when plenty has been given," declared Ferrum, voice firm and eyes still trained on the sunset.

"Understood, my lord." He gave a small bow before continuing to speak, "The Aurum Cave is being readied as we speak. The Communion of Voices will soon be upon us."

Ferrum nodded.

"That concludes my report, my lord."

There was a pregnant pause after that, the Dragon uneasily shifting in place, clawed feet hitting the floor.

"Is something on your mind, my First Fang?" he asked. "As I trust you with my thoughts, you can trust me with yours."

The First Fang opened his mouth and closed it without sound, before shaking his head and opening it once again. "Argentum is scouring the edges of the islands for information on Jangmo-o; he has come close to the human populations. I think he believes he was captured by one of them."

Ferrum closed his eyes, a flash of pain piercing his heart.

I will leave, then! I will be a free dragon far away from all of you, away from this stupid island! You will see how strong I become!

He thought it a jest, an exaggeration spun by youthful impetus and exuberance, as every one of his threats had been before. He sincerely believed nothing would come of it, that it would be resolved on its own when his heart had calmed, and the thrum of hot blood was no more. His centuries of experience told him so.

He was wrong.

"I have also asked some of the Pokémon in the human settlements, but no one reported a captured Jangmo-o, and the locals know enough to recognize the importance of such an event."

When did he go wrong? He had always imparted the importance of their mission on the little one's head, of the weight history carried. He fought against it, yes, but so had Ferrum when he was young and ignorant, when he did not really understand his place in the world as ordained by fate and the Guardians. He believed Jangmo-o just needed some time alone to understand it; that's why he didn't bother searching the first couple of days, why he was so assured in his own judgement… That was his mistake. The fire in Jangmo-o's heart was bigger than he had anticipated, far bigger.

"However, I heard a rumor of a Pokémon from a ship that missing food was reported on their travels off the island." A tense silence followed that declaration. "If that is true, then Jangmo-o is likely…"

His eyes opened again; the sun had set, and now the dark, starless skies dominated the canyon, burying everything in a dark blanket. "Have Argentum return when his search of Akala is over; tell him what you have learned. I will personally search where you have told me and, if that ends up being true…" What, then? The world was big, so very big. Even if he knew where Jangmo-o ended up, there was no guarantee he stayed in that place. But he was his grandson; he… He was…

A single tear fell from his eye.

"We will see what we can do, my lord."

He did not respond.

"Come, my lord, dinner must be ready now."

Silently, the Hakomo-o followed him to the caves in Poni Canyon, the moon just starting to peek past the clouds.

---

He swims across floating water; a place with no gravity beckons him.

So, here you are, interloper.

He is dizzy, his thoughts ebbing away from him before he could hold onto them, wisps that vanish as soon as he tried to follow them.

I wonder why you came here? How did you trespass into my domain? You do not have enough power to do so on your own.

The words enter one ear and leave through the other; his brain does not hold onto them.

Curious, even in that state, most would be terrified. Do you not fear which I represent, interloper?

He always loved Pokémon. That would not change, no matter which one it is. Plus, the Ghost-Dragon of the beginning was his favorite Pokémon.

A moment of silence passes before laughter explodes, loud and deep, and he is reminded of horror movies and slithering monsters in the dark.

Love? Your favorite? It is the first time a mortal has used that word on me. How prideful of you to think you know anything about me. What could you possibly know?

A lonely flute sounds against the infinite distortions, echoing endlessly.

…

RAGE, BOILING, MOUNTING, EXPANDING, BURNING.

HOW.

IMPOSSIBLE.

FATHER, IS THIS ONE OF YOUR GAMES?

Pulled memories, something crashing against formless shapes of thought.

ANSWER ME.

THAT SONG WAS BURIED. THAT SONG WAS FORGOTTEN.

WHO ARE YOU?

YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE ME.

I WILL HAVE MY ANSWERS.

He sleeps with ease.

---

Dylan woke up with Jangmo-o snuggling in his chest, the dragon blearily waking up, stretching most like a cat and yawning, exposing rows of sharp teeth.

All in all, he had an excellent sleep.

The sun was rising, and he was ready to start his day.

"Come on, Jangmo-o, let's get ready."

It was a very nice day.

---

Hi again! Third chapter here. Thanks to everyone who commented and followed this story; it really means a lot to me that you read the words I write.

I hope you like the little seeds of lore I have been planting here. They may not be much now, but I hope to expand them in the future. Hope to see you there!

Have a good day, and thank you for reading.

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

His days became a routine, as he fully started to acclimate to the new world of his. He started his days early, as the Ranch was much like a farm in that regard; work usually required one to start in the first hours of the morning. He bathed with Jangmo-o still dutifully watching him beyond the curtain, waiting patiently for him to finish. Then he dressed in the uniform he had been provided, watching his strange body in the mirror. Despite everything, he still had a vague hope that his hair was dyed, like someone had done that as a strange joke on him, but the reality was his brown hair had been replaced by pale blue down to the very roots, and his eyes were now red, something certainly impossible back home without artificial aid. The shape of his face was also different, a bit more angular and years younger than it was before, not too much to put him in the dreaded teenage bracket, but enough he couldn't not notice each time he looked at himself.

It was a strange sensation: that body moved when he commanded it to, but there was still a level of disconnect with it, like he couldn't fully internalize it as his. It was not only his face but the rest of his body too, the skin tone basically the same. Thank God for small mercies. But he was taller and fitter than he was as a result of years with a desk job and a donut shop just around the corner; it wasn't enough to call it muscled, but enough to notice the difference. He was also slightly taller, yet he didn't feel the oddness that entailed; he didn't lose balance and crash into the floor or anything like that; if anything, it just felt natural. And that single thing made him uncomfortably shift inside his own skin, wondering what else had changed, what things had been altered in him that he didn't know of? He ran to the bathroom in a boom of nausea when it first happened, but he just spent ten minutes staring at the sink, red eyes reflected in the mirror.

Jangmo-o nuzzled his cheek when that happened and had added another duty to his list; when he noticed Dylan staring too much in the mirror, he nuzzled him and, if that didn't work, he gave him a light bite, yanking him out of his dark thoughts. So far, it had worked well, albeit he had developed small bite marks on his shoulder, thankfully hidden in the uniform.

Next in his routine was the cleaning of the stables of the equine Pokémon, a duty he shared with Tom and Carrie, and an area that had been declared 'good for beginners' by the two. After that section was cleaned, he carried the food back to them and fed them, a process he had to repeat for lunch and dinner.

Afterwards, the beds must be cleaned and fluffed, removing the hair off them and making sure no horse was taking the extra beds in the warehouse to make a superbed, which apparently had happened enough times to guarantee a check-up, given that locks didn't really do much to the strength of a Pokémon. The area where they sleep was roofed and surprisingly human in its construction; it has 'rooms' with a door and a refrigerated drinking fountain installed in each where the Pokémon can drink whenever they want, which he also must check for leaks. There is also a small reminder of the Pokémon's intelligence when he saw stands with books in there, some being read by their occupants before they noticed him and left the room, allowing him and Jangmo-o to clean without issue, the dragon attentive in his duty, directing himself to the low and small spaces, leaving the rest to Dylan.

Maybe he had experience in his Fief or something?

Just before lunch, was the observing of the making of food by Archibald; he explained all the things that are necessary for Pokémon to get good nutrition and how it must be mixed by morphology and type before even considering the ingredients, which taste slightly different to the mouths of Pokémon than to humans. Another curious point that he stored in his mind with the rest.

He took his lunch in the designated area with Tom and Carrie making him company, with Jangmo-o happily eating his meal beside him. The recipe was already taught by Archibald and memorized by him to the smallest detail.

In the afternoon, he was assigned odd jobs after he finished the feeding of the horse Pokémon, ranging from feeding the other creatures under his care to him and Jangmo-o aiding the repairs of various parts of the Ranch, which got broken or damaged semi-regularly, a consequence of the more unruly Pokémon engaging in battle, and since most of them come from trainers, their strength means some damage to the grounds was inevitable. One thing that surprised him—Why do I keep getting surprised by these things?—was how those bouts usually got resolved after that bit of showing their strength but also by direct interference by other members of the Ranch who did not like their living quarters being endangered. He had seen how they talked among themselves until the sides dissolved and each of them went to their respective side, grumbling all the way. All in all, for being full of creatures that could demolish it without much of a thought, Ratell Rach was surprisingly whole and well cared for, not that he expected any less from Archibald.

Occasionally, he saw the two Bidoofs and the Aipom run past him or join him in his duties, the trio offering help for a bit before fleeing when the Scolipede came searching for them.

He also cleaned an amenity the Pokémon had, a dedicated TV area. That was something that he had sincerely not expected to see. The TV itself was in a square building covered by a peach roof and looked a lot like a gazebo, with wooden doors leading to a wide-open area inside riddled with cushions on a wooden floor. A gigantic flat TV dominated the space as Pokémon filtered in the building one by one and took places on the floor, the equines sitting like cats and others in a way so human he would have mistaken them as such from a distance.

The Pokémon chatted animatedly as they walked and eagerly took their seats. They even had their own assigned seats given by social obligation.

When everyone had entered the building, a Blaziken grabbed a remote, and he could see a bigger version on a slightly raised pedestal from the ground complete with its own set of buttons likely modified so hooves could operate it, and turned the TV on flicking the channels until it reached one where a Japanese or Chinese building was shown, a Gardevoir in an elaborate kimono was sitting before a golden throne, as pompous music soared and song was heard, likely the intro of the show.

O wings of revelation,

Flowing in the breeze,

Tell me, o tell me,

What will become of me?

The view panned over more Japanese buildings and intricate gardens with spiraling trees, as he could distinguish a Samurott and a Gallade as the ensemble cast, which he noticed was mostly Pokémon with the occasional human sprinkled in, before displaying "Love Song in Kazahi Castle' in bold golden letters in that strange language he somehow could read.

The Pokémon cheered as the story began. The Gardevoir was facing a Lopunny in what he assumed was a display of courtly politics. "I will not be led astray by the likes of you. An alliance with you may as well be an alliance with the Banished One. I will not debase myself so."

The Lopunny moved a hand through metal lines running all the length of its long ears. "And do you think you can win on your own? Naivete must have limits, even for an uneducated peasant like you who do not know how this Fief works."

A Pokémon interrupted the audio with a protest, "Roserade!"

"It is you who does not know the workings of this palace. It is you who-" The Blaziken obeyed the order and fiddled with the remote. "-voir, Gardevoir."

Oh, so that's a thing.

An annoyed meow came from a gray and white cat seated on a blue cushion. "Gla!"

The Roserade just gave a scoff in response. "Rade."

The nearby Pokémon began to laugh at the cat, until it raised its head and got close to a Zebstrika and lay beside it, visibly annoyed with the rest.

Did I just witness a variation of sub vs dub with magical animals instead of humans? He gave an amused snort at that.

It was kind of funny.

After he finished his jobs, he went with Jangmo-o to a sequestered corner of the Ranch and practiced his moves, being careful not to damage any of the grounds too much, even when Archibald had insisted it was fine if some dirt was displaced; he didn't want to give him more work.

He didn't have a sure way to know all of Jangmo-o's moves at once, so he just ordered him to show him all the moves he could do. A slower process, but a useful one. He discovered Jangmo-o knew: Tackle, Protect, Work Up, Dragon Breath, Screech, and surprisingly, Flamethrower. The last one he was sure only Kommo-o could learn, and made him think it must have been taught or passed down by his parent or by some kind of teacher in the Fief he lived in. They had no partner to train with, but it was enough to do it alone for the moment; after all, he was just probing what his Pokémon knew.

Finally, after all of that was done, he checked up on his very own Berry Tree, more accurately a bush, remembering how it came to be under his care.

Archibald took him to a small patch full of bushes and trees, filled to the brim with rather young and small berries.

"This is our very own Berry Patch," he said. "It isn't quite enough to feed all the Pokémon in our care, but we can use it in the kitchen and as a supplement to the berries we buy. And nothing truly beats food you pick up yourself," he added with a smile on his bearded face.

He directed him to a small spot where a freshly dug-up mound was, and a single green tendril was rising from the earth. Jangmo-o smelled it and was pleased with whatever he found there, for he smiled proudly and began to look at the bushes that his height would allow him to smell.

Archibald chuckled. "This is the Starf Berry seed we found in your pants when you came here. It was a rare thing to see one of those."

"Are they truly so rare?" he asked. It was the most delicious fruit he had tasted, but he also had no idea if the rarity of the games translated to the real world or not.

"Of course, my boy, there are not many Starf Berries on the market, mainly because the wild versions are the ones available and are quite hard to find to boot," he explained. "Domestic ones are a gamble; many times the seed won't grow or just produces a sickly dry bush that dies too soon and, even if it grows correctly, Starf Berries are of the Withering Class, their bush dying when the first batch is picked. The number of people who managed to take care of the tree back to health after that is very low.

"Each bush is said to have a different personality and likes, necessitating its own special method of raising to properly grow it, and wither easily when its conditions are not met. They are delicious fruits to be sure; the flans and pies made from them are otherworldly, but they are catalogued as too much trouble by the majority of people, instead replaced by other kinds of berries more easily raised.

"Starf Berries are often called the King of Berries, not for being the most delicious, but by being demanding enough to be compared to royalty. Despite all of that, this bush gives me a good feeling, and it was your seed that birthed it. Why not try raising it? I put it as soon as possible; sorry for not warning you, but those are very delicate, so it could grow well. What do you say, my boy?"

With that kind of introduction, how could he say no?

And so, he had found himself checking on that berry at the end of the day, seeing how well it had grown over time. It defied his understanding of plants by turning into a green bush in a matter of days, albeit a green one, lacking the colorful metallic sheen that he had seen in the wild one. He supposed it still had ways to grow, and he was making sure it did by playing music on the small phone Archibald had given him, an old model he had saved and no longer used, since he had heard in a past life that music helped plants grow.

It had sort of worked; the bush withered a bit when he played My dear Poison by Roxie, a very popular song, it seemed. But had grown a bit after playing it scores of classical music, especially the ones by the Kricketune Orquesta, a Johto-based group entirely made up of Pokémon, not a single human in it.

And so, after playing music to a very peculiar plant, his days ended at the Ranch House at dinner, when he shared those moments with Archibald and Preston, the two men offering up good company for him and Jangmo-o, who was always eager for the food presented by the jackal, no matter what it was.

It was on one of those dinners that Archibald asked him a question.

"My boy," he began as soon as the Lucario had retired the dishes from the tables and directed himself to cleaning them; his help was still denied, the stubborn jackal refusing any help on his territory in the house. "Would you allow me to share your circumstances with old Ambrose?"

Dylan blinked, surprised by the sudden turn of events. "You mean how I am not of this world?"

Jangmo-o was not paying full attention to the conversation, red eyes zeroed on the older man in front of him, slightly narrowed and with a small tinge of suspicion.

Dylan could even see the blue jackal's ears slowly gyrate backwards from the sink, a silent observer in their conversation.

The younger man paused for a bit before answering. "Why would Professor Rowan need to know that?"

"Ang, Jang."

"It's not that he needs to know; it's more like it would be good if he knew," Archibald explained. "He had studied Pokémon all his life, even Legendary Pokémon, and has many contacts amongst other researchers. If someone could discover what happened to you, it would be him."

That gave him pause as Jangmo-o turned to stare at him. What Archibald had said was true; if someone could tell him anything about his circumstances, it would be a storied Pokémon Professor who had studied creatures that bended the laws of physics for sport. Yet, there was something that hesitated to do that. Even if he discovered anything, where would it lead? He doubted non-legendary Pokémon could do anything to help him, and he seriously doubted Legendaries would be easy to access or even possible to ask them questions regarding his situation.

He had also quietly crushed any hope to return to his world by himself. It would be like pointing at the sky and saying, 'Please, tell us which one is your solar system'. It was simply impossible. He had decided he must not hope for that…

And yet…

Archibald was looking at him with hopeful eyes. He had already crushed his own hopes, but he was reluctant to crush another's. Such was the conundrum he had found himself in.

With his own morality and guilt giving him no other option, he said, "Of course you can tell him. I'll leave it to you, Archibald."

The Rach owner smiled. "Good to hear, my boy. I will tell you when he is available." He put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't you worry, if anybody is capable of doing anything, it is him."

---

The moment when he would meet the Pokémon Professor of Sinnoh came abruptly fast, the following day after their conversation, in fact. He was told to go to the living room of the Ranch House to see the man there, and he found himself doing so after all his chores and work were complete.

A man and a Pokémon were waiting for him there.

The professor was an aristocratic man. Such was his first thought upon meeting the Pokémon Professor of the region. Ambrose Rowan was an impeccably dressed man, not a single wrinkle on his blue suit nor on his dark brown overcoat, both devoid of any dirt or specks. There was also the way he carried himself, with a silent but humble importance that drew attention where he went, like he was an historically important painting in the middle of a museum.

The Alakazam was much similar to his trainer, a prim and proper being that oozed respectability and propriety; two long whiskers protruding from its mouth informed Dylan that the specific Pokémon was male. The two silver spoons held in his hands were decorated with a red jewel on their tips, and ornate lines ran through them, making the Pokémon look like a noble.

"My boy, the young lad over here is Ambrose Rowan, the Regional Professor of Sinnoh and my friend since we were babes, and the chap by his side is his Pokémon, Percival." Curious grey eyes landed on him, as a stern bearded face cocked in concentration. Jangmo-o did much the same, eyes scanning the human with interest, seemingly aware of the importance the title carried. "Ambrose, Percival, this is Dylan Gallagher, my new ward that I told you about and his loyal companion, Jangmo-o."

"Good day to you, young men." His voice was quiet, steady, and authoritarian, exactly as his appearance suggested it would be, with an air of a teacher honed by years of experience that would manage to be heard even in a crowd. "I have heard much about you from Archibald; your commitment to acclimate to this world is commendable."

Jumping right into the heart of the matter, I see. "Thank you, Professor. It's better to stay moving in these matters, right?" He hoped his voice didn't express all the nervousness he was feeling, for, after all, he was meeting the highest authority of Pokémon in the Region; that was no small feat. Even when he had only accomplished it by having Archibald handle it all. "Plus, I am never alone in this."

"Jang-Jang."

Rowan nodded once. "That is good to hear, young man. It warms my heart to know such companionship can bloom even in the strangest of situations."

"Truer words have never been spoken, Ambrose," Archibald said animatedly, laughing and patting the stoic man in the back. "But enough of introductions, what do you make of his circumstances, ol' chap?"

Both men took their seats, with Dylan following suit. "Very strange to be sure; I have heard cases of waking up in different places after the interference of a Pokémon, but not something on this scale before." A hand was rubbing his chin, fingers combing the beard in contemplation. "Young man, do you remember how you came to be here? Spare no detail."

Dylan stood silent for a few minutes, just trying to find the correct words to explain the situation, until the creeping feeling of shame caught up to him. What am I being so silent for? I remember what happened and it's not like that was painful or anything…

"I was in my car going to pick up something in another city," he began, "since my boss saddled me with it, the cheapskate," he joked. Archibald gave a small laugh, with Professor Rowan's lips moving a solitary millimetre to show his emotions.

"I got into an accident." He could feel Jangmo-o stiffen and pay rapt attention to every word he said, as well as the darkening faces of the two men in front of him. "I think a rock fell and threw my car past a cliff and into a tree, which fell into my windshield, shattering it and-" Breathe. "-well, kinda piercing me in the process. It must have hit my spine or something since I couldn't move afterwards nor feel anything."

Jangmo-o was horrified; he could see in its widening red eyes, he could also see another intense emotion, but he couldn't distinguish what it was. Archibald and Rowan were not much different, a sick color flooding his caretaker's face as the Professor expressed the most emotion he had seen on him in the short time he had met him.

The Alakazam's eyes flitted to the side for a moment, seemingly connecting the dots before the humans and grimacing when he did so. But there was something else in there, a sheer disbelief in hearing a truth so amazing one couldn't truly internalize it. What drew Dylan's attention was that he seemed to fully believe him; not a single thing in his posture or demeanor suggested the Pokémon considered him a liar.

"Oh, my boy, I didn't realize—"

He waved his concerns away with a hand, continuing his tale. "I just remember slowly getting cold bit by bit in that car." Jangmo-o was now rubbing against him, hot air going past his mouth in an attempt to heat his body. His hands petted him in response as his voice got more and more distant. "I was… calm, yes calm, I knew I was going to die, yet I wasn't really scared. Don't really know why. Then I just…" He paused a bit; what then? He could say what he thought it happened, but would that be the truth? His memories after that were a jumbled mess. He decided to just continue speaking; the ever-present Dragon-type never stopped his ministrations.

"I died." Of that, at least, he could tell that happened. Jangmo-o began to tap him again, searching his body almost like making sure it was there. He had told him and Archibald before, amidst tears and a plea, but this expanded explanation must have hit differently if the expression on their faces and their reactions were anything to go by. "Then I was here. I don't remember anything after I closed my eyes in that car; I just woke up in that forest."

Professor Rowan's stare was intense, as was the Alakazam's, their eyes drilling into his with too many things to discern. Archibald's eyes had the beginning of tears in them, which made Dylan feel guilt grow in his heart. He had already explained and hurt him then; he didn't want to hurt him now. He was one of the kindest people he had met, offering a stranger help when it was needed the most without expecting anything in return. He had no idea how to begin to repay such help, but hurting him again wasn't on the list. He didn't need his own troubles, past troubles, on top of his own.

"It wasn't bad," he said. Jangmo-o growled at that, but Dylan ignored it and continued speaking. "I didn't feel anything, not even a little bit of pain. Even mental pain was absent; there is really nothing to worry about." When their faces became even more pained, Dylan mentally chastised himself and tried again. "It really wasn't that bad; I just woke up in that forest the same as if I had just taken a very nice nap. Sure, it wasn't in my body, but this one isn't ugly at all; rather, it is more handsome than my old one—"

He knew he had made another mistake when Ambrose flinched, and Jangmo-o gave a snarl in his direction. Rowan wasn't much different, his eyes moving in unison with Alakazam's, making him wonder if the Psychic was having a conversation with Rowan in that moment.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I don't want you to worry about that; it really wasn't that bad, and this may as well be fantasy for me." He took a deep breath. "In my world, Pokémon are just works of fiction; they appear in TV, cards, videogames; they are one of the most profitable franchises in the world. They are loved by many; so being here is like a dream for me. I know it would be the ultimate fantasy for many, so please, don't worry on my behalf. Please."

A beat of silence passed.

"Young man," the Pokémon Professor began. "It is I who must apologize. I let my curiosity ask you such an unthoughtful question, uncaring of what kind of memories it may have dragged off you." He stood up and gave a deep bow in unison with the Physic-type. "For that, we are truly sorry."

"There is no need for that!" Dylan said, also standing up, Jangmo-o jumping when he rose, with him giving the reptile an apologetic look. "I understand that you needed to make sure I wasn't some kind of scammer or something like that! No need to worry, none at all!"

"You are a very kind man, Mister Gallagher."

"Just Dylan is fine," he said.

An uncomfortable silence followed, during which he didn't know what to say or do, before being interrupted by Lucario, coming in with a tea set held firmly in his paws, passing it to Archibald, who smiled in gratitude at him. Dylan silently thanked the jackal Pokémon for the interruption.

Archibald served the Professor a steaming cup of sweet tea, before serving Dylan and then himself. His nerves made him take a drink, hand firm to avoid any spilling; he almost choked when the reddish liquid touched his tongue. It was so pervasively sweet that it was like someone decided that an already fruity tea was not sweet enough and dumped a compressed bag of sugar in it. He swallowed the liquid that seemed to stick to his tongue, not wanting to appear ungrateful in front of the older man.

Jangmo-o's rumbling laughter was felt by him, causing Dylan to turn reproachful eyes at him, not that the lizard minded, as he continued laughing before getting close to the teacup and signaling for him to tilt the cup, and he did so. As soon as the liquid hit the reptile's tongue, his eyes widened, and a happy smile flowered on his face. Dylan tilted the cup even more, and all of the liquid went down Jangmo-o's throat.

A contented purr came from his dragon soon afterwards as he licked his lips, a rather big tongue lapping at his jaw.

Another laugh came from Archibald, a loud sound that made his entire face crackle in joy. "Ah, sorry lad for not warning you, but that expression never gets old. I have not met many who like that brand of Pecha Tea, too strong for them." He looked at Jangmo-o. "Except for Jangmo-o over there. Old Ambrose will be happy to have a fellow companion in that regard."

Jangmo-o puffed his chest, pleased with the attention he had received.

On the other side of the chairs, Lucario had decided to land a comforting paw on Archibald's shoulders, rubbing them slightly in a kind way. In turn, the man patted the massaging hands once and took a deep, calming breath. "Well, what do you make of the story, old pal?"

Professor Rowan shook his head. "Nothing comes to mind. I have studied Pokémon all my life, especially the Legendaries, but no one comes to mind that could do this. At least, the ones that are confirmed to exist." He gave a small pause at that. "And I do not believe a normal Pokémon would be capable of the kind of thing you described." The conversation mercifully was diverted from the previous topic to one more welcome by Dylan, who sagged in relief when the words were spoken.

Jangmo-o gave him a quick and dry look before directing his attention to the Professor as Dylan sat again on the chair.

"My apologies," said Rowan, "but I won't be able to be much help in finding a way home or even sending a message."

Dylan grimly nodded. "Don't worry, I had not much hope on that anyway." For better or worse, all his old life was gone. Even if he did manage to send something, what then? There were no certain ways to return, and even then, his body wasn't the same; they wouldn't recognize him.

Shaking his head to chase away those dark thoughts, Dylan offered a smile to the man. "Thank you for trying, anyway."

He got a small nod back.

A beat of silence passed, and Dylan found himself trying to fill it. "I forgot to tell you the exact nature of Pokémon in my world."

That caught the attention of the two men, eyes turning to look at him.

And then, he spoke. Of all the things that came from it, the games that had developed into the most profitable franchise in the world, growing into anime and movies, with a dedicated fanbase that spanned the world and counted to millions.

Jangmo-o was silent while he told the story, jaw locked tight and a tense glint in his eyes that refused to leave.

Professor Rowan chuckled when he heard about his role as the Professor of Generation IV, a tiny, almost imperceptible smile forming on his face. "I am flattered that your world gave me such an important role in those games you mention."

"Makes a man feel a little bit jealous," joked Archibald. "Why, I am feeling left out, my boy!" he laughed.

Alakazam said nothing, just continued staring at him, twin black dots boring into his skull, making a shiver run through its spine.

He won't read my mind or something like that, will he? He had to believe Professor Rowan had instilled restraint on it; otherwise, he would not be able to stay calm.

"I am to assume the goal in those games is to beat the League and become the Champion?" wondered the white-haired man.

"Well, yeah, that and defeating the… villainous… team…" Oh, fucking shit! Team Galactic! How could I forget about them!?

Archibald arched an eyebrow at his distress. "Villainous team? Are they some sort of hooligans?"

"More like terrorists," he said. "They are the main antagonist of the games, an evil faction that plans to use the power of the Legendaries for their own evil purposes. They are different in each game, but the ones in Sinnoh are Team Galactic."

"That research and development group?" asked Rowan.

"They are more than that; they plan to use Dialga or maybe Palkia to remake the universe."

What utter nonsense; those two will never be used by mere humans. Where do you get this drivel, Interloper?

"Alakazam!" The Pokémon made a horrid noise. Halfway through a choke and a scream, echoed by Jangmo-o, who looked at him like he had gone mad.

Archibald and Rowan looked at each other with something in their eyes he didn't bother to decipher. "My boy, are you sure of this?" The Ranch owner looked to Alakazam, who was blinking furiously at the same time the Professor's eyes became hazy and distant. "It is not that I don't believe you, but as far as I know, they are just a research team. Quite a renowned one, tracing their roots all the way to the Galaxy Team. I don't know if such an organization had truly turned towards the path of evil… Even then, what you said…" He paused for a bit, shaking his head and continuing to speak. "No one knows for sure if Dialga or Palkia even exist, so anything that involves them would be like chasing a myth."

How utterly foolish.

"People don't believe in them?" He couldn't keep the disbelief off his voice.

Why are you surprised, Interloper?

Rowan's face was distant and unfocused, like he wasn't seated before him but some place far away from civilization.

"No, my boy, many do not believe the Lord of Time and the Lord of Space are real. That's why I said if you are sure about how true what you said about Team Galactic is. It's hard to believe that somebody would base their goals on something that cannot be readily proven."

That was a good question: how true was the information he had on the world? While the games and anime had provided him with important data pertaining to certain parts of the world, he had no guarantee how much of that translated into the reality he had found himself in. After all, there was no mention of Ratell Ranch, nor Archibald, despite being close enough to Rowan to be friends and use his facility to care for the Pokémon the Professor sent him. Nor were there any signs the Diamond and Pearl Clans still existed in present-day Sinnoh, yet there was proof that they not just existed, but were very important and part of the upper crust of society, a very big thing for the games and anime to miss.

All of that combined to make him doubt; how much of the world did he truly know? How much differed?

And he realized that he may as well know nothing at all.

However, he still opened his mouth and told them everything he knew about Team Galactic, their plans, their members, and what their leader, Cyrus, had planned for the world. He thought it a little cowardly, putting the weight of responsibility to others while refusing to carry it himself, absolving himself of failure.

How insulting for my brothers to be used as pawns for a mere human. And how mad you must be to believe such a thing. Did all of this information truly come from a mere game?

Yet, he didn't stop.

Yet. Jangmo-o didn't stop his support of him, a paw firmly over his hand.

So, he talked until there was nothing more to say. All the words he wanted to say expended on the two men, all flowing out of his mouth until there was no more to tell.

The men listened intently to his words, same with the Pokémon, both Alakazam and Lucario committing every bit of what was said to memory.

"And that's all I know about them," he finished.

The two men had apprehensive looks in their faces, but it was Professor Rowan who spoke first. "You are sure of this," he began, "Then, I will do my best to inform the League, or at least have them pay more attention to the activities that Team Galactic is doing. It may take a while; after all, they have not been reported to do anything illegal, and the manner in which I received the tip will be scrutinized. However, be assured that I will not ignore what you have said today."

Dylan nodded; his world may be gone to him, but at least he could make sure his new one was kept safe and sound from maniacs and assorted evil guys.

Professor Rowan stood up and offered a hand to him. "It was good to meet you, mister Gallagher."

"Please, call me Dylan," he said, shaking the offered hand. "And please, the pleasure was mine, Professor Rowan."

"You may call me Ambrose, young man. I do not mind."

He nodded. "Thank you for everything, Ambrose. It really eases my heart up, more than you can imagine."

"Alakazam," said the Pokémon, offering a three-fingered hand.

"Thank you to you too, Alakazam." He received a small inclination of the head in return, as the Psychic-type began to walk away, followed by his trainer close by.

"See you Saturday for the card game, old pal," said Archibald to the leaving pair. "Preston will make those mini cakes you like so much."

"I will eagerly wait for it, then."

After some seconds, he and Jangmo-o were alone with Archibald and Preston again. "Thank you, Archibald. This really helped."

The man smiled at him. "It is no trouble at all, my boy." He patted Dylan's back. "But next time, try not to give me too many surprises; I have had my fill for the entire year already."

He laughed, "I will certainly try."

---

"-and so, the last records of Pokémopolis stopped on -7001 B.S. It is not known why they stopped, only that all communications from the capital ceased on that year and many of the big cities also stopped communications at the same time. That lack of information slowly left the outer towns and villages to largely fend for themselves, without any kind of direction to their recovery or growth."

The camera panned over small columns over an abandoned building in the middle of a forest, thick vines crisscrossing them, interrupting white with green, swallowing the achievements of a once proud civilization. The narrator, a green-haired woman with an explorer's outfit, stood beside it alongside a Lopunny with matching clothes, both of them staring intently at the ruins.

"Without a guide to direct them, the cities slowly fell into disrepair, as the canals that connected them were closed, making direct contact or even just sending messages to ask what was going on a hard thing to do. Not that any of that helped; after all, the capital city of Valokar was long gone by the time any news reached the distant parts of the empire. Thus began the slow but inevitable decline of the great civilization of Pokémopolis.

"But it was not only logistics which condemned the future of that old civilization; it was the belief itself that their lands were now cursed that hastened the massive diaspora that followed. At first, people called for information, for any kind of data that revealed why all communication was lost and the lack of resources that came from the capital to the smaller population centers. But when that was answered, all hopes for a continued life were dashed.

"Their great city, the mighty Valokar, had disappeared below the waves."

The image of the sea was on the screen, blue waves passing beneath Wingull and Pelippers, as rising Wailords jutted past the endless blue.

"Little records remain of what exactly caused it; whatever is left are memories by survivors who speak of the 'Great Betrayal of Nature'. Perhaps symbolizing that a natural catastrophe had sunk the city, and survivors thought that a betrayal by their guardian deities or Arceus Himself. Whatever the cause may have been, the response from them was clear. They had to abandon their own dwellings, lest they suffer the same fate.

"And so, the Silent Exodus occurred, when thousands of both people and Pokémon left their houses and resources behind without a word, leaving for better pastures, despite their own still standing, not as mighty as before, but tall.

"Where many left is not known, but several archaeological ruins told us that many settled in Kalos and Galar, going as far as possible from their old dwelling grounds. Their diaspora had the unfortunate side effect of diluting their people, making them unable to hold the collective culture that had characterized them for many centuries; it dissolved as foam as they adapted to their new homes in lands so far away.

"Thus was the story of one of the greatest empires the world had ever known finished, lost in the annals of history with only ruins to remember them.

"But many questions remain: what happened to Valokar? Is it really something as simple as a natural disaster? Or maybe there are dark things underfoot that show us what occurred millennia ago? Join us in the next episode of 'Mysteries of the Pokémon World' as we delve deeper into the lost recesses of history."

The credits began to roll as Dylan stretched on the sofa, the windows in the living room letting him see the moon and the stars shining outside.

It is really late; I'd better go to sleep… The last part of his day, when he watched TV in the living room with Jangmo-o, was done.

The small dragon was absentmindedly staring at the black screen, an unhappy frown on his face. "Jangmo-o, something wrong?"

The Dragon looked at him once before jumping off the sofa and making a run past the corridor.

"Jangmo-o, wait!" said Dylan, chasing after his Pokémon.

He chased him to his room as Jangmo-o made a beeline for the bed and, when he was positioned there, glared at him; a mix of reproach and anger swimming in red eyes.

He tried to get close to the bed and sit beside him, but as soon as he tried that, Jangmo-o growled and snapped his jaw in warning at him, teeth glinting in the air for a second. "Ok, ok, I will stay standing," he said placatingly, hands raised in surrender.

A minute of silence passed between them.

"So," Dylan began, "What are you angry about?"

Jangmo-o gave a snarl and pointed at him accusingly.

"What did I do?" He didn't remember doing anything particularly bad to the Dragon or anything of the sort.

"Jangmo-o! Jang, ang Mo, Jangmo-o!" The barrage of fast words offered nothing he could use to discern the meaning of them, and Dylan found himself equally annoyed and intrigued by the Pokémon's ability to understand everything the humans say, but the humans being unable to understand anything the Pokémon spoke.

"I don't understand you, Jangmo-o." The Dragon began to pace amongst snarls on the bed as he pointed at Dylan again. The notion was forceful and tinged with emotion. "You were kind of angry before…"

It clicked.

"You are angry about that?"

Jangmo-o's snarl was more vicious at that moment.

"I didn't even tell you about Team Galactic with bad intentions; I honestly forgot about them—"

The snarl returned with double the force.

"Are- are you angry I didn't tell you before? About my death?"

Jangmo-o finally calmed down and huffed. 'Finally,' his body said, relaxing a bit as baleful eyes looked at him.

How to go about that? "I'm sorry for that, Jangmo-o; I didn't really mean to hide it from you. I just didn't think it so important to know, you know?"

Jangmo-o growled at that, making Dylan realize he had made a misstep. Think, think, think. Why is Jangmo-o so fixated on that? True, I hid things but not out of malice or anything… Unless?

"I know you are my First Fang, but I was ignorant of what that truly meant, and for that I apologize." He gave a small bow to Jangmo-o. "Know that I didn't do it out of malice; part of me simply… wishes to ignore it. As ill-advised that may be. My First Fang, would you forgive this breach of decorum and trust?" There, he said it as fancily and clearly as possible. Though it would have been better if he had things other than books and anime to give what seemed like an appropriate apology in such a strange situation.

Jangmo-o stared at him long and hard, before nodding and giving a small bow of his own, his right front leg curving to his chest. "Jang. Jangmo-o."

He still had a lot to learn.

But I can begin to do it now.

"Hey, Jangmo-o," he said. "Do you want to know about my home, Earth?"

Oh yes, do tell me everything, Interloper.

Jangmo-o looked at him with curious red eyes.

---

Good day to all of you! I hope you liked the fourth chapter.

Have a good day, and thank you so much for reading my fanfic!

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

The planet of his Heart was the weirdest thing he had heard in his life. A world with no Pokémon whatsoever seemed mad enough, but as his trainer spoke more and more about the universe he came from—I don't think I will ever get used to that part—he wondered if such a place wasn't on the verge of collapsing without Pokémon or Anointed Legendaries to care for it.

And maybe most importantly of all, Jangmo-o's own world was fiction back there. That was such an odd thing to consider, but then again, he supposed his own world was interesting enough to be fiction.

He had listened attentively through all the conversation, hanging on every word his trainer told him, drinking the information like it was water on a hot day, that despite quenching the thirst at first, immediately produced more desire for knowledge. Demanding more and more, questions pouring into his mind.

Who created such a world? How is it maintained? Tell me more about the animals in that place.

All questions that he couldn't properly ask with his voice alone. The humans' inability to understand their language was really annoying at times.

But what had bothered him the most was how he recounted his own death, his very own end. The almost blasé manner in which he talked about what most feared like it was nothing. That unnerved him.

What did such a thing feel like? Very cold, according to him. He shuddered when he thought about it, and it made him think of things rather left in the dark.

He supposed being unfazed by it was better than being left a wreck. For that, he was grateful.

That didn't stop Jangmo-o from checking where the lethal wound was supposed to be, despite his trainer's assurances that it was a new body—What a strange thing to think about—and hence had no wound. He just added a small well-being check to his morning routine. Arceus knew it was needed for people such as him.

Jangmo-o walked with the weight of the basket on his back, easily ignored by him, head lost in its own thoughts. Thinking back to that day when he listened and listened to the history of another world.

"How have you found the Ranch so far, Jangmo-o?" asked the Herdier, taking him out of his musings. "Not much trouble, I hope?"

The green grass rolled up in the hills as the smell of sand and saltwater wafted in the morning air. A nostalgic caress on his nose, bringing to mind old times against his will.

"I can't complain. The job is good, and I get fed well." He didn't need to think about that place. He didn't.

"That's good," said Herdie happily. "This Ranch is a good place to be; I'm glad you find it so, too."

Jangmo-o just nodded at that. It was a nice place, close to the lapping waves of the sea yet colder than he had imagined for that; a chill always descended at the late hours, making the night almost unpleasant. Almost.

"I hope none of the Pokémon here had given you trouble," the dog Pokémon continued. "They are mainly from battlers, so their pride is rather high in that regard. Many can be demanding in their care, but nothing we cannot manage."

The grey dragon snorted. "They don't give me much of anything, just curious looks. And they demanded nothing I have not done before." That much was true. In the Light Steel Fief, younglings were expected to take care of their elders, and be filial children to their parents, and dragons could get quite prideful. There was nothing they had demanded that his Fath- that Argentum had not asked of him. He was fine. He was.

The dog looked at him once before nodding. "I'm glad to hear it; I know how the Ranch works may be difficult to understand for some Pokémon, especially recently caught ones. The human side of things, I suppose."

Jangmo-o chuckled. "Don't discount our own kind so easily; even in the wild, serving the strong is something understandable by all."

"I suppose that is true. It may be the quantity that gives them pause. Ah, we are here."

They had reached a stable, where his Heart, his trainer, had been working for a while. The strange black Rapidash, which he had been informed was an equine called Zebstrika hailing from Unova, was staying still as he was being brushed, chatting in low tones with his Kantonian equine neighbour.

"My Heart, I am here," he said as he came close and offered the package on his back to him.

Dylan smiled at him, a small and reserved thing that brought new feelings into him. He could feel his choice was the correct one, as short and sudden as it had been.

"Thank you, Jangmo-o." He couldn't help but puff up his chest at that. "You arrived just in time." His eyes landed on the Herdier beside him. "Thanks to you too, Herdie."

"I'm just doing my job, no need to thank me."

The weight on his back left, and Jangmo-o came closer to his trainer, feeling a hand rub his head and his body in one motion. He bit back a purr; it wasn't very draconic of him to do that.

His trainer took out several more brushes and a small pot of cream, spreading the latter on the former and brushing once again with hands that Jangmo-o thought were a little fumbled in their movements, but well-meaning nevertheless.

Time passed so, in that lull where Jangmo-o felt the minutes walk by and his mind wander to other things, and his own will yanking it back when it came close to that island.

His main worry was what to do after the Ranch. He could feel that something was bubbling underneath Dylan's skin, a lost purpose or a buried want that just yearned to get out in the open. And if he was right, it would be the same as his, the same need to be more that started his journey. He just needed to find a way to make it get out in the sun.

Maybe a walk and a battle in the wilds? No, that would be too much. That idiot would probably dive headfirst into a Pokémon discussion as he did to his.

Maybe we could fight with Bodie and the others. No. He felt ashamed just for thinking that. It was likely that the Bidoofs would just run away, and he didn't fancy the chances of the monkey either.

He watched as his trainer hummed a cheery tune while he worked, and Jangmo-o felt himself lazily yawn. He could decide it later; he had time, after all.

Maybe he could take a small nap.

"Hello, friends and pals!"

"Oh shit!"

Maybe not.

His now alert eyes stared at the floating ghost merrily bobbing in front of his downed trainer, who had jumped away when the Duskull had appeared centimetres from his face and now was on the floor.

The two equines' eyes were laced with suspicion, and Jangmo-o could feel a static filling the air, making his skin tingle.

For his part, Jangmo-o growled. "Fuck, not you again."

"Easy there, pals. I am just here to check on my friend here."

Jangmo-o wanted to bite him. Hard.

His trainer, kind idiot that he was, had obviously different ideas.

"Oh, you are the one from before, right?" He stood up and patted the horse Pokémon, retiring the hand when the sound of crashing electricity shot from his hand. "There is no need to be wary; Duskull helped me get here. It's fine."

The Zebstrika didn't look convinced. Neither was Jangmo-o.

"I was finished with you two anyway. You can go, really."

Both horses looked at him. "I will take care of him. Rest assured."

With a last look directed at him, both Pokémon went out of the stable, leaving them alone with the Ghost-type.

"It is good to see you again. Thank you for helping me back then," Dylan said. "I know Archibald didn't mention you, but you helped me, right? Jangmo-o told me so."

And he was now regretting that choice. Especially on how difficult miming all of that was. Humans could get quite dense sometimes.

"That's right, my friend!" He used a nub to rub his Heart's head, prompting a growl from him.

"No need to be so angry, pal," that stupid Pokémon said mockingly. "We are friends, see?" He hugged Dylan's head, rubbing his mask on him.

And then Dylan staggered back, heaving and shivering.

Jangmo-o was on him the next instant, biting and expelling flames on him, ripping him off his trainer viciously.

"You fucking bastard!"

"Jangmo-o, stop!"

Stop!? He wanted him to stop!? Didn't he know what he had tried to do?

The not-quite-flesh he was biting had an odd texture, a mix of wet clay with a strange bounciness, and it was cold to the touch. He managed to hold on to it for a while before his fangs met each other.

That damnable ghost had escaped.

He snarled at it, furious at what it had done as it floated upwards.

"Why so aggressive, pal?"

"I know what a Ghost sucking lifeforce looks like, you bastard!"

The thing ignored him. "I am pleased to announce that my friend here is one hundred per cent alive and well!"

He would maul that thing.

"Stop! Jangmo-o, stop! I don't think he had any evil intentions." He really needed Jangmo-o to take care of him. Who knows what would have taken advantage of him if he didn't step in to guide him.

"That's true, pal! Nothing but good intentions here!"

"You—"

They were interrupted when a large purple shape entered the stable, followed by a small one.

In the space in which he turned to look at Scolipede, the Ghost had disappeared to parts unknown, leaving him with fire in his heart that yearned to burn.

The Bug-type planted himself in a corner and motioned for Dylan to come, which seemed to shake him out a bit from his previous state. He rubbed his neck before attending to the Bug.

"Sorry, Jangmo-o," he said apologetically. "Let's get to work, ok?"

Jangmo-o gave an annoyed huff at that, now dedicating himself to the protection of his stupid Heart.

Bodie was jumping on the large Bug's back, a rhythmic pattern that made the bigger Pokémon chirp pleasantly, and that also made Jangmo-o wonder how a Pokémon with so little self-respect could exist. Really, it was like he wanted to be a slave in a Fief, waiting for orders from on high.

Meanwhile, Dylan had taken the job of using a flat brush on the Bug-type, cleaning the carapace from any dirt that it may have.

"That's it, little one, continue doing that. You really have a talent for that," said the centipede Pokémon. "You will do great as my personal masseuse."

Jangmo-o rolled his eyes. Being near them was surely making his brain lose neurons just by proximity. He wondered how they had managed to survive in the wild if any Pokémon could just turn them into servants without much effort.

"Oh, thank you, sir Bug. My jumps laugh gravitationally!"

Scolipede frowned, giving off a tired sigh. "What did I tell you last time we met?"

Bodie paused for a second. "'Health is not the fever dream of poison. Did you eat any weird berries?'" His entire diet must be berries gone bad; that was the only explanation Jangmo-o could think of.

"The other thing."

"'A quiet Bidoof is a cute Bidoof?'"

The Bug smiled. "Exactly. It is good for my servants to learn and remember such things."

"But how will you know I am cute if my words don't let you see my metaphorical heart?" The fact that such a question was delivered with complete innocence was not lost on Jangmo-o.

Scolipede grunted. "Just finish the massage, you weirdo."

"Yes, boss!"

Jangmo-o sighed. He was truly surrounded by idiots.

He still didn't know how to go about his trainer's secret desires.

And there was something about what that Duskull had said that was bothering him.

---

"Doesn't she look gorgeous in that dress?" gushed Carrie over the phone in her hand, showing him a picture of a dark-haired woman with blue eyes wearing a magnificent black and gold kimono, seated behind a green and white humanoid wearing a similar vestiture, both kneeling amidst a crowd in a palace. The caption read 'Champion Diantha and Gardevoir shine in Love Song in Kazahi Castle'. "She is so amazing!"

Dylan found himself nodding along with the woman, as she gushed over her favorite movie star during lunch hour, pausing between eating the rice in front of her and checking the brilliant screen with animated fingers, showing him and Tom all that she was watching.

They were eating together at a table overlooking the grazing hills of the Pokémon, eating their lunch while Jangmo-o and Herdie, who had finished rather fast, were chasing each other in the grass, Jangmo-o very intensely chasing the happy dog, their play bringing a smile to his face.

Carrie had taken to showing him her favorite movie stars, the top human one in her head being Diantha, the Champion of Kalos, and her Gardevoir occupying her first spot in Pokémon actors. 'A team of stardom,' she called them.

"I didn't know Diantha's Gardevoir was an actress too," said Dylan.

"Oh yes, they entered the world of spectacle together when she was just a Kirlia!" said Carrie excitedly. "Since then, they have been inseparable from one another in the acting community and often star together in many movies and shows."

"As allies, I suppose."

"Not quite! They have been bitter rivals in dramas or even mortal enemies in some movies. Though they are friends in Love Song in Kazahi Castle, and they are so great there!"

Dylan remembered that show. "That's the one the Pokémon are watching in the TV area, right?"

"Carrie was the one that introduced the show to them," explained Tom. "They've been hooked ever since. They usually claim the TV when the show is running and don't let others take the remote away."

"You always tell it like I got some nefarious purpose to do it," protested the woman. "I will have you know I only introduced it to them to show them the pinnacle of dramas."

Dylan hummed. "Is it that good? I am searching for recommendations to watch…"

Carrie's eyes shone. "It is one of the best dramas I have ever seen," she animatedly said. "I strongly recommend it. I can recommend more if you want. Which ones have you seen already?"

Dylan paused at that. He had seen a grand total of zero, given the fact that the world didn't have him in it enough time to learn what was popular. "I don't think I have seen any," he chose to say, "I usually just see documentaries." Technically the truth, he hoped it would hold the scrutiny and stop more questions from coming. While he had told Archibald and Ambrose about his circumstances, he considered it safer that only those two knew about it. He didn't want any weird looks thrown at him. After all, he had no guarantee others would believe him, and being labeled a delusional liar was not something he wanted.

"Oh," said Carrie. "Well, at least you have seen Pecha Garden, right?" When Dylan shook his head, Carrie's eyes widened. "Really? I thought everyone had seen that one."

Tom sighed. "Not everyone likes dramas as much as you do, Carrie."

"You are supposed to say, 'Not everyone has the same impeccable taste as you'," admonished the worker. "But I will let it go. Regarding what you said, Pecha Garden and Galarian Sunrise are good places to start; they are a bit old, but very good. You can also watch Love Song in Kazahi Castle; it's a modern classic."

Dylan nodded. "Thank you, Carrie. I hope Jangmo-o likes it too."

"Don't worry, as I said, my taste is impeccable."

He laughed. "I just worry he may get bored; he spends a lot of time with me, after all."

Carrie's eyes brightened at that. "Hey, why not have a battle with me, then? Dragons like those!"

Dylan's attention was captured, and he could see Jangmo-o come near when his ears caught wind of what he had planned. "A battle? I have not had one of those before…"

"Jang! Mo-mo, Jangmo-o!"

The woman's head gave an intrigued lilt, yet she continued. "Then, what better way to start that than by battling Herdie and me?"

"Are you sure? Didn't you have three medals?"

Tom shook his head. "Don't worry too much; we both won those with the starter teams of the Gym Leaders. Furthermore, Herdie is rather rusty." The dog gave an offended bark at that. "You have a good chance."

Jangmo-o jumped on his legs and stared intently at him. He didn't need to doubt, then. "Let's battle!" he said happily.

"Yeah!" Carrie stood up and pumped a fist in the air. "Let's battle right now!"

"We still have to finish our shift," Tom reminded them, deflating their smiles just a tad. "We can do it after our workday ends."

Carrie sat down. "That's what I said."

Dylan chuckled as he continued to eat his lunch.

---

"Your very first battle," said Archibald, a slightly dreaming quality to his voice. "I still remember mine. Just me and Preston against my mother's Medicham." A wide smile was on his face as he lost himself in the memories. "We were clumsy, but there was a fire in our hearts that carried us through. This, I have to see. I hope you do not mind, my boy."

Dylan shook his head. "Not at all, Archibald. I think Jangmo-o likes the idea of the public seeing him battle." He finished cutting the berries and threw them in a pot with the rest of the ingredients for the Pokémon's food.

"Jang." The Dragon-type nodded quickly, stirring the pot with his paws, the motions more intense and faster than usual.

"Then, I hope you don't mind if Preston also comes by; old chap loves to see battles. You are planning to do it after your shift is done, right?"

"Yeah, that's the plan." The pot was scooped of its contents, and the food was separated in various buckets.

"Then, can you deliver some papers to Ambrose's Lab? It's some research he has been doing in the Ranch. That way you would get out of your work early."

"Of course, Archibald. Just leave them, and I will deliver them." He paused for a moment. "Uh, where exactly is the Lab?"

"Just leave the Ranch and follow the road; you will reach Sandgem fast. It is the biggest building in town; you cannot miss it."

Dylan gave a thumbs up. "Got it." While the pot was now empty, his heart couldn't help but beat a little faster. He would soon have his first battle, something he had fantasized about as a kid, and as an adult was just around the corner, almost touching him with electricity, running all around his body.

He would have to do it well; he had to make Jangmo-o proud. Show his First Fang he had the capabilities necessary to properly command him. If only all of that didn't make him feel like ants were dancing under his skin.

A tap on his hand drew his attention, and he found Jangmo-o's claws softly pressing on his skin, red eyes looking at him questioningly but with a smidgen of assurance in them. "Jangmo-o."

He patted the small reptile's head. "Don't worry, buddy, I got this." He certainly hoped so.

The remaining workday passed in a strange mix of breathtaking speed and mind-numbing slowness, dictated by his nerves that still refused to change, no matter how many looks Jangmo-o threw in his direction, and no matter how many assurances he threw right back.

The papers he needed were divided into a brown briefcase and a stack on the table. Dylan took the former while Jangmo-o put the latter on his back, neatly balancing them on it without much effort on his part.

Both went out of the Ranch, taking the double wooden doors that marked the entrance to the compound, and he realized that would be his first time getting out since he arrived there. Something that gave him a small moment of pause. Have I really stayed cooped up for all these days? It almost seemed like a dream.

His feet soon took him up the dirt road to the main square, or more like the center of such a small town, where many people and Pokémon were walking together. The air was clean, and he could hear the chirps of bird Pokémon in the trees that lined the roads. People and Pokémon greeted him when he passed by, and he found himself shyly greeting them back. It was like the town itself sprang out of a storybook and was glued to reality. That made Dylan smile.

The town itself was a mishmash of green and concrete; flowers and trees dotted the roads, and almost all the houses had plants on their balconies, and he even spied some small variants of the berry trees there. It looked like nature had not only been respected, but wholly integrated into the community, as it had always meant to belong.

As Archibald had said, the Lab was too big to miss; he could see it from the square, a big building sequestered in a silent corner of the town. A mix of concrete and wood towering over the houses and other edifices. The words 'Rowan Laboratory' were emblazoned up the double doors that made the entrance.

He walked to them and found a doorbell at the side of the electronic doors. He rang it and waited for them to open.

A few moments passed before the doors hissed and let him see a boy standing in front of him.

And that person was the protagonist of the game.

The boy was about twelve or thirteen, he guessed. He was dressed neater than he expected from a boy his age, a strange mix of his Diamond and Platinum versions, where he wore a shirt and a blue necklace with three jutting points and a jewel in the middle, somehow managing to make that and blue-gray pants look like formal wear.

His posture was straight and even a little tense as he stared at him through gray eyes that looked so similar to Rowan's. Dylan began to rack his brain for any of the backstory of the player character in the games. He got nothing in return but just a question that made him wonder where Dawn would fit in all of that. As far as he remembered, Joanna was supposed to be the mother of Dawn in the anime, but he couldn't remember where her male counterpart came from.

Perhaps it's for the best not to think of him as that. It would be wrong to think of them as mere characters when they had lives of their own, full of things he couldn't understand. The Pokémon World was his reality now, not some pixels on the screen.

"Good afternoon, I am looking for Professor Rowan?"

There was an orange monkey next to the boy, a lit flame dancing on its tail, staring at him and Jangmo-o curiously.

The boy looked at them, eyes staying more on his Pokémon before moving and saying, "Good morning, sir. Please follow me; he is inside."

Huh, polite kid.

He walked behind the pair made of a human and a Pokémon, entering the wooden and concrete building. The inside was big and what could be described as sterile and white, both in the walls and in the floor, which was interrupted by computers and the odd Pokémon connected to them.

As the boy led him through the building, he could see researchers garbed in white come about, clicking on keyboards or directing Pokémon to certain areas. He could see a Pichu, a Pikachu, and a Raichu, all directing a brilliant line of electricity that grew with the Pokémon to a circular globe that crackled with energy, absorbing the rays and directing them to who knows where. A Stantler was standing still with cables protruding from its horns and body, all connected to a machine that occasionally beeped; a scientist stood in front of it, regarding the screen with such intensity she didn't notice when they passed past her, a common occurrence, it seemed.

Most of the staff ignored them, too engrossed in their research to pay them any mind, with the few that did lingering their eyes on Jangmo-o rather than him.

Pokémon were working with the humans too, a Drowzee writing something, a Reuniclus reading ten different floating papers at once, and even a Hitmonlee clicking away at a computer.

Could Pokémon attend college? Was the question that entered his mind after seeing that. He supposed it was possible; Pokémon in both the anime and games were able to have an emotional range and intellect equal or greater than humans. Physic-types, the most common typing of the Pokémon in the lab, were also said to be far smarter than people; perhaps there were programs to allow Pokémon to study?

At the far end of the lab lay a door that said 'Rest Room' in black lettering, which the Chimchar opened by jumping on it, much like Jangmo-o would. Inside, there was Professor Rowan and a young blue-haired man chatting animatedly between them, both of them standing near a steaming coffee machine that was finishing pouring the last bits of beverage in a white mug. Professor Rowan's Alakazam was standing near a Mienshao, both peering over the pages in a book.

"—unknown. True, there have been reports of the Tauros mixing with the Rapidash and Sawsbuck line, but nothing indicates the Pokémon that do evolve have any kind of precedence in birth over those that do not." The man's voice was soft and measured, a whisper of excitement in his words. "As far as we know, the litters birthed by those combinations have a fifty-fifty chance of being the line of either parent."

Professor Rowan nodded alongside the words; gaze fixed on the papers the man had in his hands.

"Grandfather, Father, someone here needs your attention."

Now, that's interesting data.

Both men lifted their attention from their work and looked at them.

"Oh, you must be Archibald's new hire, right?" began the man, straightening his posture. "I'm Donovan Marsh, good to meet you."

Is he his father? He looked very young to have children, definitely in his twenties if not younger. He had a handsome face, and he could see the resemblance to the boy now that he could see the man up close—Then again, it isn't my place to pry—He could also notice the hint of musculature hidden underneath the lab coat, somewhat odd for a person dedicated to the more stationary art of science.

"Mi-en," greeted the Pokémon.

"I'm Dylan Gallagher." He shook the man's hand with his free hand. "I wasn't aware I'm that well known."

Donovan gave a sheepish smile as he rubbed the back of his head. "It's a small town; news travels fast."

"Professor, where should I put this?"

"Over that table, young man. I will take care of the rest."

He put the briefcase there, proceeding to take the stacks of paper off Jangmo-o's back, depositing them close by.

"Would you like a snack, Dylan?" said the Professor, opening a grey fridge stuck in a corner, letting him see the normal sandwiches and sorted noodles stacked inside, but also revealing the rows of candy and sugary food, the most common being green squares with a Gyarados printed on the package, neatly sequestered in a corner.

"Yes, thank you."

"Jang!"

"One for Jangmo-o too, if it isn't much trouble."

The man chuckled. "None at all. Lucas?" So, it is him. "Do you want something?"

"Rage Candy Manju for Chimchar and me, thank you, Grandfather."

The man took a box out of the fridge and opened it, four buns inside. He put the box up close, Lucas picking up one before Dylan took one for himself and one for Jangmo-o, putting the sweet in his maw, the reptile eagerly chewing it, a smile on his face.

Dylan observed the bun in his hands; it was artfully done, a Gyarados spiraling from the center towards the bottom, a soft sweet scent reaching his nostrils. He bit into the candy and was surprised how good it tasted. It was sweet, but not overpoweringly so, the taste with a hint of acidity and a surprising spiciness that made his tongue and stomach tingle for more.

The Rage Candy Manju, which he once knew as Rage Candy Bar, was quickly finished. His tongue pushed the remains to his content stomach.

"They finish up too fast, do they not?" A tiny smile was on Rowan's face as he said that.

Dylan laughed back, nodding. "Thanks, Professor."

Lucas finished up his snack with such propriety he wondered if he had gone to a school for that. "Thank you for the snack, Grandfather. It was most filling." The kid was like a period drama come to life.

"Always so polite," chastised the man. "We are family, Lucas; there is no need to be so stiff around me."

The boy seemed appalled by the statement. "But Grandfather, you are so very important—" A raised hand stopped him from speaking further.

"One day I will manage to get you to call me properly, my grandson." The statement was delivered with a kindly smile, with the comfort of somebody who had tried to do it the same many times.

The boy fidgeted a bit in place at the words, cheeks reddening a bit. "Grandfather…"

The man turned to him. "I have not presented my grandson to you, Dylan." He gestured to the boy, who gave a bow in response. "This is Lucas Rowan, my grandson, as you can see."

"It is good to meet you, sir."

"Good to meet you too, Lucas. I'm Dylann Gallagher, but you can call me Dylan." He pointed at his partner. "And this is Jangmo-o."

"Jangmo-o, Jang."

"Greetings, Guardian of the Light Scales."

Dylan cocked his head at that form of address. "Guardian of the Light Scales?"

"Oh, it's a form of address native to Alola. They call the Hakommo-o line that way due to the legends that posit they are the caretakers of the island, those who safeguard the light with their bodies," he explained, an animated grin on his young face. "The address itself is quite old, with many records placing them as far as -1001 B.S, when travel to Alola was more dangerous thanks to the lack of proper means of transport, and the islands themselves were considered consecrated and only apt to short pilgrimages, which in itself were thought of as rites that would not be divulged to the public." The words were delivered fast and with energy, the boy gesticulating while he talked, a shine in his grey eyes. Dylan found himself nodding along, immersed in the history that was being shown to him. Jangmo-o, for his part, was listening with an odd look on his face, part apprehension, part pride.

Both men were smiling fondly as they watched the teen rant on and on about his topic of choice. The Pokémon were doing much the same thing, with Alakazam chuckling and shaking his head a bit. "The Kommo-o were renowned for being the oldest recorded native of the islands, and often it was they who guarded the pilgrims as they went to the distinct sites in the wilds, guiding them through the night with the light of their fire. The name surged as a result of that, conjoined with the fact that they had been known to expel evildoers and those who disrespected the rules of the land. Thus, it can be said that the term "Scales of Justice" may have originally referred to them, albeit that one is in contention with another human-centric theory that surged in Paldea that…" The boy seemed to realize how much he had ranted and went deep red in an instant, flooding his face with color at the same time an embarrassed smile crept to his lips.

Chimchar jumped on his shoulders and patted him reassuringly.

"I— I— Uh— My apologies for distracting you all with my ramblings!" He gave another deep bow, Chimchar huffing as he balanced on his shoulders. "I did not mean to do so."

Dylan gave a laugh he hoped sounded reassuring and not mocking. "Oh, don't worry on my part. I liked hearing about my dear partner here; it was really interesting. You must really like history, don't you?"

"Yes!" said Lucas. "It is one of my favorite topics in the world. It is so very interesting to learn how much history has shaped our life and how that leaves its own mark on the world."

The kid was obviously very enthused with the topic at hand, and that made Dylan smile. Part of that exuberance rubbed off on him, putting a spring on his step. "I have been watching a lot of documentaries myself lately. It's always good to learn more about history; it helps that it's also very interesting to boot."

Lucas nodded sagely. "It is, isn't it? I recommend watching Stories of Hisui and Old Unovan Archaeology; those are really good."

"Got it, kid." He turned to the pair of men in the room. "If that is all, Professor, I will take my leave."

"Have a good day, my boy."

Before he could answer, Jangmo-o touched his legs and looked at him intensely.

"Did we forget something?"

Jangmo-o nodded and swiped at the air.

A fight? Wait, does he want me to tell them about that? "Do you want to tell them about our fight?"

Jangmo-o nodded.

He didn't know what to think about the audience, but if his First Fang was the one who said so… "Oh, Professor, Jangmo-o and I are going to have a battle at the end of my shift today, and he wants me to tell you are invited to it. If you are willing, of course."

"Hoh, a battle you say? It would be my pleasure to attend, young man."

"Excuse me, could I…?" said Lucas, his voice almost a whisper.

"Of course, you can come if you want, kid."

He got a brilliant smile in return.

"Then I hope you don't mind if I join my son."

"Of course not, mister Marsh." He turned around. "See you on the battle ring on the Rach."

"Jangmo-o!"

He tried to ignore the nervous pit that had formed in his stomach.

---

The battle ring was hidden in the corner of the farm, a rectangle of brown earth that contrasted against the green grass. Carrie situated himself in the small box attached to the end of the geometric figure, with her Pokémon taking his place in front of her.

Dylan's heart was pounding when he and Jangmo-o did the same, his feet trembling with an excitement he hadn't felt in a while. His body, before numbed by the routine of his work, was drumming with excitement as he looked at the eager face of Jangmo-o, his First Fang almost jumping in place.

"This battle will be Dylan and Jangmo-o versus Carrie and Herdie. The battle will end when a Pokémon is no longer able to battle," said Archibald, standing in the center alongside Ambrose, Lucas, Donovan, and Tom. Their Pokémon were also watching the upcoming fight. There was an excited cadence to his voice, like somebody about to jump or see something amazing. That kinda made him even more nervous.

"Jangmo-o."

But he needed not to fear. "I will not be intimidated, for my First Fang is with me."

The dragon smiled.

The sun was shining in the blue sky.

"Begin!"

"Herdie, Tackle!" The dog became a blur and shot to Jangmo-o, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

Ah, shit. Don't freeze up now, Dylan. "Dodge it and use Screech!" At the last moment, centimetres before the attack would connect, the Dragon-type jumped out of the way and opened his mouth. A violent noise that made nails on a chalkboard sound like an opera emerged from his fanged mouth; even the air rippled a bit when the attack passed over him.

The dog Pokémon's ears flattened against the scalp, as a pained expression flashed on his face. "Bear with it, Herrdie, use Baby Doll eyes!"

"Dodge it!"

The eyes lit with a strange pinkish energy, glowing in circles directed at the running Jangmo-o, who that time didn't manage to completely avoid it; his body became a bit lax in response, the dragon growling in frustration.

"Jangmo-o, Tackle and Work Up!" That time it was the dragon who became a blur, crashing into the dog with a resounding bam, sending him flying to the side. Dylan couldn't help but wince when the dog whimpered in response to the attack. Don't worry, Pokémon are resistant; they must be.

"Herdie, Bite!"

The reptile roused himself, tendrils of red emerging from the ground, just at the same time that the dog surged forwards and clamped his mouth in Jangmo-o's abdomen, eliciting a pained yelp from it. The teeth were shut tight, with Jangmo-o struggling to dislodge himself from the maws of his opponent.

He had an idea; he just hoped it would not hurt Herdier too much. "Angle your neck and Dragon Breath!"

His First Fang did so, his neck gyrating to allow his head to target the dog's body and expelling a thick plume of green fire accompanied by heated gas that hit the other Pokémon at point-blank range. A pained hiss was produced; the dog now struggled to get out of Jangmo-o's range, but the dragon was ready, using his claws to dig into his hair, refusing to let go.

"Oh no, Herdie, get out of there with Tackle!"

The Pokémon obeyed, ripping himself out of the Dragon-type's grip and running out of range.

Blood was pounding on his ears, his heart beat madly on his chest. That was a Pokémon battle, a clash of creatures with untold power inside, a fight to see who was the strongest. A smile began to split his face in half, as his emotions soared into the sky in a rapturous crescendo.

"Jangmo-o, don't let him escape! Flamethrower!

Eyes widened in alarm. "Herdie! Dod-"

"Tackle and grab!"

A small body latched itself to a dog as it was propelled backwards, the dragon hugging the dog with all his might, jaws brimming with flames, anticipating Dylan's next command.

He pointed with his fingers to the dog, happiness and excitement coating his every word. "Flamethrower again, point blank!"

The stream of fire impacted the Normal-type in an instant, pained yelps emitting from him as he tried in vain to wriggle free from the onslaught.

"Herdie! Get out of there!" came the slightly panicked command. Yet, the dog didn't obey; each time he tried to angle himself free, Jangmo-o squished harder and the stream got even more intense, until the dragon catapulted himself off the other Pokémon, who stood on trembling paws.

Herdier only lasted a few seconds standing upright; his chest burned, and his hair transformed into black wisps, until he collapsed on the ground, signalling their victory.

"Herdier can no longer battle! Jangmo-o is the winner!"

His smile threatened to fall when he saw the collapsed and prone form of the Pokémon, but those fears were alleviated when Carrie ran to her Pokémon and cradled him in her arms. "You did well, Herdie," she said as a tongue lapped her nose.

There was nothing to worry about. Pokémon were stupidly resistant, after all.

Holy shit. Holy shit, I won!

"Jangmo-o!" His Pokémon ran towards him, jumping into his arms, an action he gladly accepted, spinning in place as he laughed.

"Bravo, Jangmo-o! You were amazing out there," he laughed. "You are the best First Fang ever." He rubbed their cheeks together, and he could feel the purrs coming from the draconic Pokémon indicating his own happiness.

Not a completely mediocre showing, Interloper.

"Well done, my boy." Archibald had come close to them, smiling with Lucario in tow, as he heard polite applause in the distance. "You have a very strong Dragon-type in there. It is always a joy to watch Trainers battle."

He could see Lucas in the distance with a wide smile, almost vibrating in place with Chimchar jumping beside him. The polite applause came from Ambrose, who had a pleased smile on his face, a mirror of his Alakazam's, who was doing the same action with his three-fingered hands. Donovan was doing much the same, with the Mienshao imitating his movements.

"Thank you, Archibald. Jangmo-o did his best."

Tom also came closer. "Congratulations on your first victory, Dylan and Jangmo-o."

"Yeah, you showed us how rusty we had become," said Carrie, who, despite her loss, was still smiling. "We have to get our game back. That means no more honey puffs for you, Herdie."

Dylan laughed at the dismayed expression on his face.

"Fine, you still get puffs. Just do more exercise next time, ok?" A happy woof was her answer.

"Despite the decades, it always makes my heart skip a beat when I see people working together with their Pokémon," said the Professor, sporting a tiny but honest smile. "I hope your journey with Jangmo-o is one full of good memories, laughs and cheer."

Jangmo-o's thoughts were drifting in a haze of happiness. He had had his first battle with his trainer and won readily. He had proven himself to Dylan just as much as Dylan had proven himself to him.

It may have been a small informal battle against someone who had gotten used to battle, but it had been their victory, nonetheless. He couldn't keep his face from smiling.

For his childhood dream, so long buried under layers of logic and reason, had begun to blaze anew.

---

Hi again! Fifth chapter here. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I apologize if the fight was too short; due to it being the very first fight, I didn't want it to be too intense, as I want to save those for later.

It was also kind of my first time writing a battle, so I hope they will get better as I get more practice with them, getting longer and more complex.

I changed Rage Candy Bar to its original, Rage Candy Manju, because they don't look like bars at all. Hope this is not too distracting.

Thank you for reading; comments are always welcome, and I hope to see you next time.

Have a nice day!

 

[Despacitoleo]

Amazing story also haven't I read this before? A while back?

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

Amazing story also haven't I read this before? A while back?

Click to shrink...

Thank you! You may have read it before. It is on Spacebattles, Royal Road, and AO3. So, you may have read it in one of them.

 

[SpiritFoxAlf]

I noticed you got a little lost in the flowery language with somewhat random bits of idk what's the other types of language are but you've got an odd mix scattered especially in the last chapter that it felt unfinished/unpolished.

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

I noticed you got a little lost in the flowery language with somewhat random bits of idk what's the other types of language are but you've got an odd mix scattered especially in the last chapter that it felt unfinished/unpolished.

Click to shrink...

My mistake. Sorry. Hope it didn't make it too unreadable...

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

He wanted to battle again. That's what he had decided after the fight against Carrie and Herdie; that's what his heart beat for, the resounding bangs on his chest reverberating through his entire body. He wanted to fulfill the dream he gained as a child, pick it up and dust it to turn it to reality. He wanted to battle with Jangmo-o and travel the world.

It would be hard to do so; as fantastical as it is, being a Pokémon trainer must cost money and time, things he had not really amassed in the short space he had been in the world. Sure, he had the money he earned in the Ranch, but he had no idea how that translated into actual care of several Pokémon and travel costs.

It didn't even need to be a permanent deal; he just wanted to fulfill that itch that enveloped his heart. Afterwards… well, the Ranch would always be there, won't it?

But that avenue was another problem. He couldn't just leave Archibald in the dust after all he had done for him. He had clothed him, given him a home and a job, all out of the goodness of his heart. Not even expecting to be paid back. He would rather die than be ungrateful to such a person who proved that kind of kindness existed beyond books and anime.

Yet part of him was uncomfortable with the idea of simply burying his dream again, even though it had only recently resurfaced. His thoughts swirled in his head, occasionally clashing with one another, losing definition and taking on mixed colors as they did.

"Jang?" His Pokémon's voice yanked him out of his mumblings as a pair of red eyes stared expectantly at him, a clawed paw resting on his leg. The sun had already set, only the last vestiges of light filtering through the window into his room. He had spent the last few minutes ruminating on his bed after he retired from the animated ambient outside, not before receiving the well-wishes of his Archibald, and seeing Jangmo-o basically basking in the praise for his strong moveset, head held high.

"Don't worry, buddy, I am just thinking about the battle."

A raised brow was his answer. "Ang, Mo."

"You did wonderfully, my First Fang." Their first victory had been all thanks to him, after all. "I'm just thinking about traveling after a while. Are you interested in that?"

Jangmo-o's eyes shone, and a smile spread across his face, letting him see glinting teeth. "Jang."

"It won't be easy," he began, hoping to communicate everything that such a decision entailed. "It will be my first time doing anything of the sort, and the road ahead won't be a walk in the park. If we were to attempt the Gym Circuit, we would have to fight very strong opponents and reach the top where the Champion lies. We may stumble, we may fail." For all his dreams were reignited, he was always aware of the possibility of failure. He was no protagonist; there wasn't a convenient plot device that would catapult him to the top, no overpowered cheat that would see him triumph easily. He had to give everything he had to really win. "But I want to have a journey, even if the result isn't what we expected at first. Will you travel with me, Jangmo-o, my First Fang?"

Jangmo-o inclined his head and waited.

After a bit of deliberation, Dylan put his hand on the heart-shaped crest that he had and rubbed it softly.

"Jangmo-o, Jang, Ang." The head was retired, and the Dragon-type put his hand on Dylan's palm, eyes alight with determination, not breaking contact with the human's own eyes.

Dylan smiled. "Then, may we travel together as a team, Jangmo-o."

"Jang!"

His hand found the mattress and reclined backwards. "Still, it may be a while. We still had to earn some more money to fill our pockets before really going to travel."

"…Ang."

"Well then, let's work together to our goal, little buddy." He made a fist with his fingers and held it in the air.

Jangmo-o imitated the motion as close as he could with his paws.

With a fist bump, their deal, their future began, and neither Dylan nor Jangmo-o stopped smiling.

"I hope you are ready; we must train harder than ever if we want to make it. I don't have much experience, after all. You obviously have, so I will be under your care, partner."

'Fret not,' the dragon's expression seemed to say. 'I will lead you well.'

Dylan chuckled. "Thank you, buddy. With you on my side, there's nothing to fear. I already told Professor Rowan about Team Galactic; he will take care of that, leaving us with time to do our own thing. Hell, we may even be able to make some cool new moves," he laughed. "Maybe even a Gigaflare for you, Jangmo-o," he joked.

A questioning look was directed his way.

"Oh, think of something like a Hyperbeam but Dragon-type-"

Jangmo-o was on him faster than he could blink, eyes positively shining with unaltered glee.

"Oh, so you are interested in that. I mean, I don't think you would be able to learn it until your last evolution—"

Jangmo-o's smile was all teeth.

---

Perhaps predictably, Jangmo-o didn't let him go to sleep until he had explained what exactly the Flare family of spells were, and how he may use them in battle, a toothy smile on his face all the while.

When he went to sleep, he dreamt of a gigantic grey dragon spewing blue flames in the skies, and he riding on top.

The next day was the same as all the others; he got up, took a shower, and began his work in the Ranch. However, he did all that with the burning drive quietly simmering in the back. He imagined Jangmo-o must have been in the same boat, as he had a direction, a drive that refused to go out and that managed to shine past the seeming normalcy he had on. All of that was supported by the way he dashed to the battle arena to train as soon as the shift ended, pacing in place as he waited for Dylan to catch up.

"I'm coming, Jangmo-o, just wait for a bit. I'm not as fast as you."

"Jang!"

The arena waited for them quietly, a dirt square surrounded by waving green in the breeze. Jangmo-o quickly put himself in the center of it, tail wagging like a dog. Dylan followed him at a more measured pace; the work on the Rach was demanding at times, and he didn't have the seemingly endless stamina of a Pokémon, even less that of a Dragon-type.

"You know we don't exactly have a plan for learning Gigaflare, do you?" he said.

The answer was a dismissive, almost petulant huff. "Jang."

Dylan shook his head, sighing. "Just don't blame me if we don't get it the first time, ok?"

"Ang."

"Don't say later I didn't warn you," Dylan said. "To begin with, I think we need to concentrate on the different Type-energy that you can produce and try to grab it, for lack of a better term."

That was what his short research on the computer and Poképedia had shown him: the distinction of the different types of energy Pokémon had access to. It was called Type-energy, or Qi in some places, albeit it was the first one that was used academically by the Professors and assorted scientists. It was the make-up of every move and what allowed Pokémon to do things that humans could not. Only in the rare cases of psychics and people like them could humans access that power, albeit at a weaker pace than their fantastical companions would.

There were many theories regarding their origin and what exactly enabled a species to safely and surely use those energies, but the leading one was that the Pokémon typing was what determined what moves could be learned, and it was largely thought that moves outside the Type the Pokémon had were products of ancestry or by being part of the seemingly 'neutral' Normal-type. That meant, in theory, that Hyperbeam could be fed Dragon Energy to become a Gigaflare. In practice, he had no idea. All his knowledge was derived from the games, anime, and the late-night Delibirdy (the search engine the Pokémon World had) that he had done lately, so his wisdom may be a little lacking in that regard.

Still, he had nothing to lose just by trying. After all, he had Jangmo-o to think about; he wanted to learn it very badly, and who was he to deny his partner such an opportunity?

"We will start with the smaller version of that attack, Flare. Try to visualize the Dragon Energy as an ocean and your moves like a tube that draws from it. Or like those ice cream machines I showed you this morning."

"Ang, mo, mo."

"Then, instead of Flamethrower being fed by the Fire Lake, it is fed by the Dragon Ocean, which should be easier for you due to your typing."

"Jang!"

"Ah, no. You just made a Dragon Breath, which I think may be the same thing, now that I look at it closely…"

"…Jang."

"Don't be discouraged, try again."

A stream of flames was expelled from the grey lizard's mouth, an orange cone filled with heat.

"No, that's just a regular Flamethrower now. Remember, feed it Dragon, not Fire."

Jangmo-o was getting frustrated, his unhappy frown seeming to say 'It's not that easy' as he switched randomly between Dragon Breath and Flamethrower. Giving kicks to the floor as his frustration mounted with each failed attempt, lifting a thin layer of dust each time.

"Try to breathe slowly and expel it much the same. We can fix the speed later."

An annoyed growl resounded in the field.

"Now you aren't expelling anything at all. I suppose that's some sort of progress?"

"Jang!"

Hours later, with the sun now setting and the wind blowing colder, Dylan called it quits, to the indignation of the Dragon-type. "I know, buddy, but it is getting late. Dinner must have grown cold by now, and we need to get inside. We still have that episode of Mysteries of the Pokémon World to watch."

"Jang, ang mo, mo, Jangmo-o, Jang, Jang." Those were certainly a lot of words he didn't understand at all.

"Come on, buddy, I know you didn't get it, but it's not like I expected you to get it on the first try."

There was an offended expression on Jangmo-o's face.

Dylan quickly backtracked. "Listen, I don't mean anything by that; you are amazing for knowing Flamethrower and Dragon Breath being just a first stage Pokémon, but even for amazing Pokémon like you, it takes time to learn new stuff, right?"

"…Ang."

"So don't worry about it, my First Fang. We will get it eventually."

The expression on his face finally mollified a bit, adopting a pensive tone for a few moments until he finally nodded once. "Jangmo-o."

Dylan kneeled in front of his partner and petted his head softly. "Don't worry, Jangmo-o, I will be with you every step of the way."

The Dragon rubbed his head on his hand for a bit, a purr escaping his lips. After that, he jumped on Dylan's shoulders, causing him to stand up and begin walking towards the Ranch house.

"Let's grab some food. I don't know about you, but I am starving for some."

"Jangmo-o."

Luckily for them, there was a hot plate of food waiting for them at the table, the blue jackal waiting for them with a slightly admonishing look on his red eyes.

"Sorry, Preston, training took more than we expected." He sat on the table with Jangmo-o hopping off his shoulders and seating himself on what had become his chair. "Ah, it looks delicious. Thank you for the food."

"Car, Cario."

"Jangmo-o."

Their food was finished in record time; he had not realized how late it had been until he started eating by the mouthful.

"Are you finished, my boy?" asked Archibald, entering the kitchen out of uniform, wearing a comfortable-looking white shirt and khaki pants and shoes. "You stayed rather late in the battle ring today."

"Yeah," Dylan nodded. "I wanted to train with Jangmo-o for a bit, and we lost track of time."

The Ranch owner gave an enigmatic little smile before nodding. "I know how that can happen. Don't worry too much about it."

"Thank you."

"Jang."

A moment of comfortable silence passed between them until Archibald spoke again. "By the way, my boy, I already readied most of the paperwork necessary, and tomorrow you can go to City Hall to receive your citizens' papers at last." He had a kind smile on his face. "Now you can use your own bank account that I once held in trust, so you can really control your own finances from now on."

Dylan paused mid-bite when he heard that. He hadn't thought of that, to be perfectly honest. "Really? Thank you for doing this for me, Archibald; I really appreciated it."

Archibald gave a wave of the hand. "Don't worry, my boy, any decent folk would have done the same."

No, they wouldn't. At least, not in my old world. He really needed to give something back to Archibald; he had already done so much for him, he had begun to feel a bit uncomfortable at not being able to give anything back. He worked, sure, but that was as much to his benefit as it was Archibald's. In his mind, that didn't count, as being a decent employee was something that he must do, rather than any form of payment on his part.

"No, really, thank you; you have no idea how much this helps me, Archibald."

"Think nothing of it, my boy."

As the conversation seemingly wasn't going anywhere in that regard, and he still had no idea how to pay Archibald back, Dylan chose to focus his attention elsewhere. "Should I get ready early to go to City Hall?"

"In the morning, eleven o'clock, in fact. With any luck, you wouldn't take much time doing it and would be back for lunch."

The fork came empty, Dylan having eaten the last of the food on his plate, with Jangmo-o giving the last gulps to his dinner too. "I will be ready then, thank you again."

"Have a nice night, Dylan."

"Same to you, Archibald."

---

It is not often I am surprised, but you have managed quite well, Interloper.

He flies in a space with no gravity, reflections in his eyes and stars dancing on his skin.

Tell me more about what you know, Interloper. Tell me everything you know.

Something pulls at his head; memories spill out without order, almost dissipating in the air.

What do you know of me?

A movie, a strange ship, and the Chosen One riding on a red and black back.

Laughter resounds, echoing endlessly and full of mirth.

It's been so long since I have been in such a mood.

He could almost see twin red stars shining in the dark.

Now then, what else do you know?

---

The City Hall was the second biggest building in Sandgem, just behind Professor Rowan's own lab, a tall stone building with white arches contrasting against the red bricks it was made of. A single Rhydon statue protected the entrance to the building, its eyes looking at him and Jangmo-o as they entered, past a single security guard lazily reading a magazine, who didn't even look at them when they passed.

The interior was hushed; an almost empty waiting room occupied by a man and a Noctowl was lined with plush chairs and the receptionist desk where a woman clicks away at a computer, a Glameow resting beside her in a plush bed.

Dylan went to her, and when he was near, the cat Pokémon gave a small meow in response, catching the attention of the human who looked at him and got a practiced smile on her face. "Good morning and welcome to Sandgem City Hall. How may I help you?"

"Good morning, I come for my scheduled appointment at eleven o'clock, miss."

The woman clicks away at the computer for a moment before nodding. "Dylan Gallagher, yes. Go on to the left until you see a white door."

"Thank you, miss. Let's go, Jangmo-o."

"Jang."

The process was rather simple: he waited until they put a stack of papers in front of him and he signed them all, his hand slightly sore after that, and then had his photo taken, which, as expected, was in that odd space between normal and ugly that official photos had. It seemed not even a different world was enough to change that part of life.

And so, he found himself outside the building with a fresh I.D in his hands. A white rectangle with the same strange symbols that he somehow was able to read, making him wonder if he would ever get used to that.

But first and foremost, he now had proof that he was a proper member of the world he had found himself in. Even when the manner in which he did that was more boring than the setting would imply.

He shook his head to clear those thoughts away; he shouldn't be too demanding. He already did what he came to do. It would be best to return to the Ranch.

As he walked, he began to think about the process in which to become a trainer, which probably involved a lot of paperwork that he didn't know about, which made him chuckle. As different as that world was, there were the oddest things in which it was similar to Earth; that was so obvious they would be the same that he asked himself why he didn't think of that.

He arrived at the Ranch a bit past twelve, joining Tom and Carrie as they finished their shifts.

"Hey there, Dylan. Finished with the bureaucracy already?"

"Yep, all done on my end." He didn't tell them exactly why he went; he thought the fact that he had to get an identity there was enough to raise suspicions, so, as far as they were concerned, he just needed to do some paperwork to stay in Sandgem and nothing else.

And so, he found himself back after his shift in the battle arena, training with Jangmo-o once more. Sadly, he was no closer to figuring out Flare than the day before; all of Jangmo-o's attempts oscillated between using the incorrect move or not using anything at all.

"Maybe we started with the bar too high, Jangmo-o," he chose to say after another try expelled nothing but air and a growl. "We should have started smaller. After all, if creating new moves were so easy, many would have done so already."

The Dragon-type didn't seem encouraged by that; rather, it just seemed to make him even angrier, maw peeling to show teeth.

They once again went back to the Ranch house after a day of no apparent progress. However, that time he found Professor Rowan waiting for him in the room, along with Archibald.

"Oh, good afternoon, Professor."

"Good afternoon, Dylan"

"Come on, my boy, sit." Archibald gestured to a chair. "We want to speak with you."

Dylan obeyed, wondering what it was all about.

"You want to travel, to go on your own Pokémon Journey, don't you?" Came the unexpected question, phrased like a statement.

Dylan paused at that, staring at the pair of men in the room. Archibald had a kind smile on his face while the Professor was looking almost excited, a spark in his grey eyes. Despite the seemingly reassuring expressions, Dylan found himself at a loss for words, his brain struggling to catch up with the current events.

"Well— well— I— Not right now, just an idea for later—"

Archibald raised a hand, stopping his ramblings in their tracks. "There's no need to lie, my boy. I have seen that same look in the eyes of many youngsters, that glint in their eyes that tells of a desire to make it big or simply know all this world has to offer. I see it in you, too."

Jangmo-o rubbed himself comfortingly on his body, and his hands found his First Fang's head on their own, caressing his head to calm his increasing nerves.

Yes, he wanted to say. That was the dream that he re-discovered under impossible circumstances, what he wanted to do. Yet, doing it like that never quite felt correct. He had duties, to the Ranch, to Archibald. It would be in very bad taste to leave them all in the dust.

"I would never leave the Ranch after everything you have done for me—"

"This is not an accusation of some sort, my boy," said the man calmly. "And I wouldn't say it to you, or go as far as to get you this if I didn't support that ideal." He pushed a manila envelope in his direction.

He looked at it for a moment before curiously opening it, revealing another plastic rectangle with the same photo that he had taken that morning but with Trainer I.D printed on it. There was also a paper in there, the writing on it quickly catching his eye.

Esteemed Dylan Gallagher:

The Sinnoh Pokémon League informs you that the present document accredits you as a Pokémon Trainer, with all the rights and responsibilities such a position confers. As of the writing of this, you are considered a Rookie Trainer within the Lab Trainer class, eligible to participate in the Gym Circuit and the Lily of the Valley Conference.

This also confirms your sponsorship by Ratell Ranch, so any talks regarding the management of the grants and other related questions should be directed to the entity in question.

It is our pleasure to welcome you to our ranks, and may the Original One shine His light to you.

—Pokémon League Committee.

A beat.

Oh. Is all that was on his mind.

Jangmo-o smiled, showing off teeth as he jumped in place, sending jolts through his body. He could feel emotions well up inside of him, happiness bubbling from the depths of his heart, as tears once again sprang to his eyes.

He was becoming quite the crybaby, it seemed.

"I— I don't know what to say," he choked out. "I am really thankful, but… Why?" That question had been rummaging in his head for a while. He just had so much luck; he was saved by Jangmo-o, he had work and a place to stay, and now he had the means to start his own journey and be supported by a professional Ranch. It was just too good; it made him fear when the other shoe was to drop, when something would ruin it. "You barely know me, yet you do all those things for me that I can't possibly pay back, that I have no way of returning, so I…" His voice trailed off, becoming a whisper and then silence as he expressed the fears he had hidden deep in his heart.

Jangmo-o patted his sides. "Jang, Jangmo-o." Easing his heart and grounded him before more catastrophic scenarios played in his mind.

Archibald smiled, coming near him and landing a hand on his shoulder, slowly patting it like it was something fragile. "I simply gave a young man who had lost so much a way to reach his own potential. Nothing more, nothing less." His tone adopted a melancholic edge, a wistful voice that dreamed of things that never were. "I can see that flame I had long ago burning in you; it would be a shame to see it extinguished." He chuckled once. "If you need any more reasons, just think of me as a single old man with no family left. Allow me my eccentricities."

Jangmo-o hopped off his legs and tugged at them.

Dylan stood up and tearfully went for a hug, which Archibald welcomed easily and softly. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means for me."

A hand patted his back in a comforting rhythm. "You will do great things, my boy; I can feel it."

He ended the hug and looked at the kind eyes of one of his saviors. "Just you wait, I will advertise this Ranch so hard you won't be able to fit all the Pokémon in there."

Archibald laughed. "I will be waiting for it, Dylan. Just don't push yourself too hard for my sake. I know how to take care of myself."

Dylan felt his heart do a complete musical number in his drumming chest.

"I will still do my best."

"Jang, ang, mo!"

A kind smile was offered in return. "And I will be grateful for it, my boy."

A moment of silence passed between them.

Then, Professor Rowan spoke. "And here's when I come in, young man." He came near Dylan, posture straight and formal. "I would like to propose that you and Lucas travel together, if you are willing, of course."

Dylan blinked at that, surprised by the offer. "That's… Well, I am honored you would trust me with your grandson, but are you sure?"

Ambrose nodded. "Yes, I am quite sure. Archibald trusts you, so I do too. Furthermore, no self-respecting Jangmo-o would go with an evil or untrustworthy person. I have faith in your character."

Warm and fuzzy feelings swam in his chest alongside a bit of embarrassment. "I will try to live up to that standard, Professor." He paused for a moment. "I will be honored to go with him. But will he be amenable to that? An adult traveling with him may dampen his mood, after all."

"Leave that to me, Dylan. I will explain it to him as best as I can."

"Then, it's a deal, Professor." He paused for a moment- "By the way, those papers identified me as a 'Lab Trainer'; does that mean something special?

The Pokémon Professor nodded. "Yes, quite, it simply accredits you as a member of my Lab, with all the powers and responsibilities it carries with it." Dylan must have made a nervous expression, for Ambrose chuckled and waved his concerns away. "It merely entitles you to act as support to law enforcement whenever you go and gives certain credence to your person.

"As Archibald is the one sponsoring you, you will only get a token grant for me. Lucas, my other Lab Trainer, will get the full amount. That is also one of the reasons I want you two traveling together."

Dylan nodded with zeal. "I will take my duties as seriously as I can."

"That is all I can ask," smiled Ambrose.

A blue jackal interrupted their talk, entering with a larger-than-normal tray with its own appropriate dinner standing on top.

Archibald beamed at him. "Now that's out of the way, let's enjoy our celebratory dinner!"

"Jangmo-o!"

Dylan couldn't help it; he burst out laughing.

---

For his grand adventure, for the dream he had since childhood, for all his future now represented, he needed a surprisingly large number of mundane materials. And that's why he found himself in Sandgem Gear, the only shop of its kind in the small town that was his home. Examining rows of clothes, among other things, to pick the one he would use in his travels.

He had clothes in the Ranch, but as he mainly used his uniform most of the days, his repertoire of casual clothes was lacking, and given the fact he had not splurged at all in the time he had spent in the Pokémon World, his cache of personal things had remained practically nonexistent as the days passed.

To be honest with himself, Dylan hadn't even noticed; each day a wonder that he spent with Jangmo-o and the other Pokémon, barely making him notice that he had already spent three months in his new world. While those months had been truly wonderful, it still left him with what Archibald described as 'shocking lack of personal items', which he didn't think deserved that sad look in his eyes when he said it. Still, he decided to do something about it, even if it's only the part regarding his travel items.

The rows of colorful clothes in the store were examined by him and Jangmo-o, fingers trailing over the material as he tried to choose one.

"What about this one, Jangmo-o?" he said, showing him a dark green shirt with an equally green jacket. "Think it'd be a good fit?"

Jangmo-o shook his head. "Jang."

"Well, what about this one?"

"…Ang."

"This one?"

"Mo."

"Why don't you like anything I choose?"

You have bad taste, his eyes seemed to say.

"I resent that remark," Dylan said. "You are just picky."

Jangmo-o snorted and jumped off his shoulders, landing in the clothes rack and quickly disappearing inside. After a few moments of rustled clothes, the grey lizard reappeared with a dark blue shirt and hoodie and red pants held firmly in his jaws.

"This one at last?"

"Jang, jang"

The colors were to his liking—it now matched his technicolor body—so he put it in his basket and directed himself to the other part of the store, the one with the camping tents sequestered in the corner.

Jangmo-o immediately went to the biggest he could find, one that boasted it could fit a Snorlax and then some. Its price was a very round 25,000 Pokécredits, which, according to the fact that the money in that world was more in line with the yen, was about one hundred and fifty bucks, which he thought was pretty steep for a camping tent.

"…Let's try one of the smaller ones for now. I don't have that many Pokémon to justify the space."

The dragon pointed at himself and then at the tent again. "Jang! Jang, ang!"

"For you? Isn't it a little too big even for a dragon your size?"

"Mo, Ang!"

"Ah, for when you evolve, eh?" That was a valid concern of his part, and something he would be attentive to in the future, as many Pokémon increased in size when they evolved; it would be logical to upgrade their accommodations as they grew. Albeit he still thought it was too early to think about that. Pokéballs were always an option, after all. "Let's just buy a midrange for now, Jangmo-o. We can upgrade later if we need it."

"…Mo."

Next in his shopping spree were the line of Pokéballs presented in the store; the basic ones were priced reasonably at five hundred credits, but then he saw a single Luxury Ball in a case proudly displaying its monumental fifty thousand price tag that made him balk. Apparently, it came with a very resistant finish, and the insides were specialized to provide the most comfortable rest it was capable of; at the same time, it had a very minor healing effect on the Pokémon that was inside, not too dissimilar to the Omni-trauma units the Joys used in the Pokémon Centers.

He still thought that price tag was ridiculous and only stocked the base Pokéballs, and a single Great Ball, just in case.

The last item on his list was a bag that somehow was bigger on the inside; he tried to read how it worked but didn't even understand the abstract, so any attempt at learning how it worked was discarded. Dylan (Jangmo-o) chose a gold one with blue accents complementing his whole look, at a surprisingly steep price of 12,000 Pokécredits; it was the most expensive thing he ended up buying that day.

In front of him at the checkout was a Machamp with a purse hanging from his arm; when it was his turn, he paid with a card and left. Scenes like that had become commonplace with him, something he hadn't thought possible three months ago.

He paid with a card, a necessity since physical money had completely disappeared eighty years ago with the advent of the first banks and the electronic revolution, leaving the bank monopolizing currency in its incorporeal state, with their databases guarded zealously by an army of Porygon and other Psychic-type Pokémon, protecting it from any attempts at theft. Convenient, he supposed.

Ha thanked the cashier before heading out to the brisk afternoon air of Sandgem, the wind carrying the smell of the sea to his nose.

After leaving his things in his room, he found himself, once again, training with Jangmo-o on the battle ring, the exhalations resulting in a purple, not blue, gust that Dragon Breath was known for, no sign of the blue Flare in the horizon. Only the occasional torrent of orange flames breaking through the air.

"Maybe we shouldn't have started with something so similar to Dragon Breath, buddy…"

"Ja, An, Mo!"

"I know, I know. You want to learn it, but I wonder if they are too similar to work…"

"An, mo."

"Maybe we could try something else."

A frustrated growl resounded before Jangmo-o breathed in hard enough it could be heard and exhaled. At first, nothing happened; literally nothing was expelled from his mouth except air. But at the last minute, a ball made of light blue fire jumped out of his jaws and bounced several times on the floor before it dissipated.

"Holy shit!" Dylan said. "You did it, you made that fire. You are a Bahamut in the making!"

"Jang! Mo!" The dragon jumped on his arms and was showered in affection by the Pokémon trainer, hands rubbing what they could find with glee, as a head was rubbed back in his chest.

Dylan had an idea when he saw that ball on the floor. "Let's try making those spheres as an attack on its own. We can try doing the stream of fire version later." He looked at red eyes. "Okay, my First Fang?"

Jangmo-o nodded his assent.

"What was that?" came a voice from behind them.

Jangmo-o righted himself on Dylan's shoulders as the man turned to look at the source of the sound behind them.

Lucas was there, accompanied by his Chimchar, who was also on the shoulders of its trainer, a curious stare being directed at them.

"Oh, hey Lucas! Just training with Jangmo-o to make a new move. Still pretty green, but we are making progress!"

"Jang!"

That piqued the boy's interest. "Really? That's very interesting, Mister Gallagher. Move making is very complicated at the best of times; most trainers don't bother with it, preferring to stay with known moves and TMs when needed. Do you plan on selling the move when you finish it?"

"You can call me Dylan, Lucas. I don't mind," he said. "And what do you mean by selling it?"

Lucas cocked his head. "I mean selling it to Silph or Devon so they could make it to a TM. You can make money that way, you know."

Well, that's certainly something worthy of consideration. "I didn't know that. I will think about it. I don't even have the move yet, so it may take a while."

"Jang."

The teen shifted a bit in position before raising his right hand, a brown bag in it. "Grandfather told me I would be traveling with you, so I made you some Poffins. I hope you like them…" It was delivered shyly and with a red face.

Dylan smiled reassuringly. "Geez, kid, thank you. You didn't have to."

"It's just being polite," the boy insisted. "Nothing special about it."

"Thank you, anyway. You really are as kind as your grandfather."

The boy offered him a small smile. "It is of no issue. I thank you for going with me; I thought I would have to go with Ba— alone."

Dylan arched an eyebrow at that slip but otherwise chose not to comment.

"I may not focus on battles as much as other trainers, but I hope I will be a good traveling partner to you, Mi— Dylan."

That brought pause to his mind. The protagonist? Not that interested in battles? "Really? You seemed excited enough watching Jangmo-o and me."

"I prefer watching rather than battling," he said. "Though I do battle on occasion, mostly against my Grandfather or Father."

"I see, well, you will have no objections from me about that." What else could he say, really... "Oh, by the way. I am not from Sinnoh, so I was wondering if the naming conventions here are different from back home. Since, you know, you are Lucas Rowan and not Lucas Marsh?"

The boy adopted a downcast expression. "Well, that's…" he said, trailing off and not continuing to speak.

Realizing he had stepped on a landmine, he changed the topic quickly to a matter that had been bothering him in the back of his mind for a while.

"Since you are interested in battle, you must keep in touch with related things, right?" At Lucas' nod, he continued. "You don't know anything about a mysterious trainer blitzing Gyms with a Latios and a Darkrai, do you?"

He had eventually discovered that the Lily of the Valley was entirely optional, as it was a way to challenge the Champion without having to go through the Elite Four or by a direct challenge from the top trainer themselves; it was mostly recognized that the winner generally didn't have a chance against the Champion, but it was a good way to gain sponsorships and experience. Though many still challenged the Elite Four first and then official channels once they got the eight medals.

Still, he didn't fancy his chances against a cheat character like Tobias, even when he was sure Jangmo-o would relish in that adversity.

"You believe in Darkrai?" was the answer he got instead.

"Huh?"

"Do you really believe Darkrai exists?" he asked again.

"Well, I mean, yes?" He believed every Legendary existed. After all, he had already traversed between worlds; that pretty much made the thought of a particularly strong Pokémon being real very palatable to him. Furthermore, if the games were to be taken into account, of course the Pokémon starring in them would exist. Perhaps not in the same manner as they do in the games, but being real, nonetheless.

"Why?" There was now a note of incredulous wonder in the otherwise very polite tone. "I mean, I can understand Cresselia; after all, she has starred in several paintings, Winter Moon and Dreams of a Half-moon come to mind, and many supposed feathers were found, not to mention the many eyewitnesses through the centuries…" He took a deep breath. "But Darkrai? That's, at best, a tale told to children to get them to behave. 'If you are naughty, Darkrai will come and give you nightmares', and things like that. It's simply too unscientific."

He looked at Jangmo-o, who was watching Lucas with an arched eyebrow, curiosity in his red eyes.

Well, what can I say to that? "Ah, well, then I suppose such a trainer doesn't exist, then?"

The boy shook his head. "Not that I know of. Capturing a Latios would certainly make it to the news, or to my Grandfather at the very least."

Dylan smiled. "Good for me, then I won't need to worry about such a character crushing me in battle if I compete in the Lily of the Valley Conference."

"Jang!" Yep, he definitely would be eager to fight a Latios head-on.

Lucas cocked his head in confusion when he heard that, but Dylan just waved it off. It would be so complicated to explain that he thought it better not speak too much of it.

"Well, anyway, thank you again for the Poffins, Lucas. I'm sure Jangmo-o would love them."

"Mo."

Lucas gave a small bow. "I hope we get to have splendid travels together, Dylan."

The money on his shoulders mimicked his trainer's movements. "Char."

"I will take my leave, then."

"Chim, char."

"Have a good night, Lucas."

"Ang, mo."

As he watched them leave the battle arena, his mind wandered towards the fact that he wasn't that much of a fan of participating in battles and wondered how the plot of the games would have advanced if the protagonist didn't battle.

Don't worry about it; you already warned the Professor against Team Galactic; it will solve itself. No need to worry. None at all.

"Let's keep training, Jangmo-o. We have to make those flames and attack for our journey."

"Jangmo-o!"

It was later, when he was on his bed after an afternoon where he and Jangmo-o managed to do a grand total of three mini-Flares, that an idea sprang to his mind.

"Hey, Jangmo-o." The Pokémon turned to look at him from his spot on a pillow. "Since we will be traveling and all of that, how about we commemorate by giving you a name?"

An interested glint was in his First Fang eyes.

---

Good day to you all! Sisth chapter here! I hope you enjoyed this new chapter. I apologize if it is too sappy or slow for the plot.

Regarding the character of Tobias, I will say now that he won't appear, at least in the same way as he did in the anime, since I have plans for the Legendaries that would clash with humans capturing them in Pokéballs.

I hope that decision doesn't come up as pretentious or something.

As always, all comments mean a lot to me, so comment away.

Have a nice day!

 

[Peacemaren]

TFTC! Looking forward to more. Any ideas for the MC's team comp? I realize it's ridiculously early and quite possibly a spoiler, so feel free to not get into it, but I do always enjoy building Pokémon teams.

Regarding the character of Tobias, I will say now that he won't appear, at least in the same way as he did in the anime, since I have plans for the Legendaries that would clash with humans capturing them in Pokéballs.

Click to shrink...

So in that case, will Legendary Pokémon be more akin to forces of nature, concepts, or divinities, as opposed to fully physical creatures? I always did enjoy that more arcane take on Pokémon, where there are multiple of each type of Legendary, and while some are young and still growing into their full power, their are much older Legendary Pokémon that are much closer to a primordial force than anything else. Admittedly, it is cool when those forces still choose to ally with humans and Pokémon; it speaks to the noblebright nature of the Pokémon world.

Honestly, I kind of like that approach to Pokémon in general; there is no species of Pokémon that is more or less powerful than others (to an extent), and if they grow old enough and train hard enough, they can become forces of nature in their own right.

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

TFTC! Looking forward to more. Any ideas for the MC's team comp? I realize it's ridiculously early and quite possibly a spoiler, so feel free to not get into it, but I do always enjoy building Pokémon teams.


So in that case, will Legendary Pokémon be more akin to forces of nature, concepts, or divinities, as opposed to fully physical creatures? I always did enjoy that more arcane take on Pokémon, where there are multiple of each type of Legendary, and while some are young and still growing into their full power, their are much older Legendary Pokémon that are much closer to a primordial force than anything else. Admittedly, it is cool when those forces still choose to ally with humans and Pokémon; it speaks to the noblebright nature of the Pokémon world.

Honestly, I kind of like that approach to Pokémon in general; there is no species of Pokémon that is more or less powerful than others (to an extent), and if they grow old enough and train hard enough, they can become forces of nature in their own right.

Click to shrink...

Yup! I envisioned the Legendaries, at least the older and more powerful of them, as concepts and forces made manifest, rather than just a 'strong Pokémon'. As such, those forces may object to being used for entertainment or in sports battles. That said, normal Pokémon can earn the respect of Legendaries in many ways, though the details themselves won't come for a while and are kind of a spoiler.

Thank you for commenting; it makes me really happy.

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

"Shenlong."

Jangmo-o shook his head.

"Razikale."

"Jang."

"Smaug? He was a villain, but also a very powerful dragon."

A severe frown told him what Jangmo-o thought about being named after a villain.

"You really need to pick one already; we have been on this for an hour." And it was the truth; they had been trying to pick up names for the Pokémon for that amount of time, but every one of them had been rejected by the dragon. And the bad part was that he couldn't ask for his reasoning.

"Shinryu."

"…Ang."

"You never settle on one, do you? I tried the famous names from back on Earth-" Wait, not all of them. There was one, quite obvious in retrospect, but given what family of spells he hoped to adapt in the moves of Pokémon, the idea was obvious.

"Bahamut," he said, smiling when Jangmo-o perked up when he heard the name. "It's technically the name of a fish, but in my old culture it was synonymous with draconic might. It is also the creature which has the Flare family of spells, so it kind of fits. What do you say?"

After a moment of silence, Jangmo-o smiled and nodded, satisfied. "Jang."

Dylan patted the dragon's head. "Well, Bahamut, I hope you are a good example of that name."

A feral smile was directed at him.

---

What a prideful name, Interloper.

Will you wear it well?

---

The day had finally come. The moment when he would start his own Pokémon Journey was there; his chance to accomplish his dreams had arrived.

Ironically, the day started without much fanfare; he woke up with the newly-named Bahamut curled up on his chest and took a shower with his watchful eyes observing him from the other side of the curtain, as always. After that, he dressed and went to the kitchen when Archibald and Preston were finishing up a big breakfast.

"Good morning, my boy. Ambrose, the others are on their way," he said.

Moments after that, the bell rang.

"That must be them. Could you go and open the door, please?"

"Of course, Ambrose."

The Professor, his assistant, and Lucas were waiting at the door; the latter had his strange mix of Diamond and Platinum clothes on, a nervous smile on his face. Alakazam, Mienshao, and Chimchar were with them; the monkey was smiling wildly and almost bouncing in place.

"Good morning, Dylan. I hope we are not too early?"

"Not at all, you are just in time. Come on in."

Ambrose entered with a nod and a swish of his cape, followed closely by the other two humans and the Pokémon.

When he was about to close the door, he heard someone screaming.

"HEY! PROFESSOR!"

He arched an eyebrow and went outside to check what it was when he felt something crash into his side, sending him off balance and bowling him into the floor.

"Jangmo-o!" Bahamut didn't have the same issue, jumping just in time to avoid the hit and landing on the floor with a growl, jaws snapping at the boy that had just slammed into his side with surprising force.

He recognized him too. Blonde hair with an orange and white striped shirt, blue pants, and a green scarf wrapped around his neck.

A blue penguin was walking near him, likely his Pokémon.

"Hey!" said Barry. "Watch where you are going; I could fine you for this!"

Bahamut retaliated with a powerful growl, getting close to his legs and snapping at them, prompting the Piplup to stand against the dragon head held high and an almost dismissive air surrounding it.

"Lup, plup!"

Whatever it was, it just incensed the dragon more, to the point it seemed he was ready to attack the other Pokémon.

"No, Bahamut. Stay." He rather wouldn't have an impromptu fight if he could help it.

"Dylan!" Lucas was at his side, offering him a hand. "Are you okay?"

Dylan nodded and took the offered hand to stand up, dusting himself as he did. "I'm fine, just a bit tussled, that's all."

Lucas pointed angrily at the other boy. "Apologize, Barry!"

Said boy scoffed in response. "Why? He was the one that got in the way. He should be the one apologizing."

The blue penguin huffed with pride and ballooned his small chest, a smarmy expression on his face. "Piplup."

Bahamut bristled even further, the tips of flames spewing past his mouth; Dylan could almost feel the heat brewing in his gut.

"Bahamut, no. It was just an accident." The dragon snorted, but relaxed his posture, though he still had a snarl on his face and irritation in his eyes; they were lesser that they had been moments ago.

"You are always like this; can't you be more careful?" Lucas said. "You have to be at least a little bit aware of your position—"

The boy huffed dismissively. "The only position I know is of the future Champion! Right, Piplup?"

Dylan was surprised by how much a penguin could look prideful. It would make dragons blush. "Pip, Lup, lup!"

"Champions do not bowl people over!"

"I don't bowl people over. They just get in the way. I could fine them for that, you know."

"Barry!"

"Lucas." A hand was put on his shoulder; the Professor was looking at him kindly. "Calm down, my grandson." He put his eyes on Barry. "I believe you were looking for me, Barry?"

The boy just seemed to realize that as his eyes shone. "Oh right! I forgot to pick up my Pokédex, Professor, so I have come to pick it up."

Ambrose cocked his head to the side. "I left it in the Lab in case you came back, young one. Did they not tell you so? I imagine you asked for me there."

Barry's cocky face immediately after hearing that, souring into a frown. His Pokémon mimicked the expression. "N—no, they didn't. It's there, then?"

"Yes, my boy."

"Darn it."

"You didn't listen to them, did you?" came Lucas' deadpan voice.

"Lucas," gently said Ambrose.

"Of course, I listened. They just didn't tell me."

When Lucas' face soured further, and it seemed he was going to say a lot more unkind things, Dylan intervened. "Good morning, Barry. I have not presented myself. I am Dylan Gallagher, and this is Bahamut, my First Fang."

"…Mo."

"Oh, good morning. I'm Barry, as you know." A cocky smile was plastered on his face. "The future Champion of Sinnoh."

Bahamut snorted.

"It's good to meet you, Barry. Maybe Lucas and I will meet you later on the road."

Barry arched an eyebrow. "You will be traveling with Lucas?" He scoffed a bit. "I doubt we will meet; I travel fast and hard, Lucas will probably stop in every museum there is."

Red flooded the young trainer's face. "And what's wrong with that!? I am just respecting history!"

"Respecting boredom more like."

Lucas went even redder, but before he could speak, Barry turned around and began to run in the other direction.

"Thank you, Professor, see you!" After a small pause, he added. "Good luck to you, Lucas!"

"May you have safe travels, young man."

"Don't crash into people, Barry!" screamed Lucas at the retreating boy. "And good luck to you, too!"

They watched until he and Piplup became a dot on the horizon, before turning around and entering the Ranch house.

Well, that was something. He certainly hadn't known what to expect from the rival in the games. Though Bahamut's frown told him exactly what kind of impression the boy had left in the lizard.

"Breakfast must be ready now; let's not keep Archibald waiting, shall we?" said Ambrose, directing them to the waiting man and jackal in the room.

Once they all sat at the table and began to eat, Ambrose spoke.

"You must forgive young Barry for his rashness. He is a good kid and means well; he just can be brash in his dealings with others." That statement garnered a dismissive snort from the Jangmo-o.

"He's always been like that," sulked Lucas. "Ever since we were kids."

Dylan smiled. "Don't worry about it. I understand, he certainly seems to have a lot of spirit in him."

"He sure does," said Archibald. "Takes after his father in many ways."

Palmer, the Tower Tycoon of the Battle Frontier of Sinnoh. Another place he was sure Bahamut would want to explore. It was almost like a mini-Gym circuit, with the Sinnoh Frontier only having five members. But what it lacked in numbers it more than made up for in the quality of its trainers. Its leader, Palmer, was able to give Cynthia more than a close fight. It was considered a ground for elite battling, with only the ones that had won the eight Badges feeling confident enough to challenge it.

Despite all of that, it was considered 'optional' by virtue of not being necessary to ascend the stairs to Championhood, being more like a retreat for those that wished to test their wits against the best Sinnoh had to offer. It still had a devoted fanbase from what he had seen online.

Taking after his father must be a big compliment, given how famous the man was. Barry did seem rash, but Dyland didn't think he was in a position to judge him. After all, he barely knew him; he could be different than he expected.

"I don't mind, Professor," he chose to say. "I know that kids can be exuberant and all that. It's okay, I wasn't hurt, anyway."

"It makes me glad to hear that," said the man. "He is a good kid once you know him. We had known him and Palmer since he was a baby, so I can say that from experience."

"I see. I will have that in mind, Ambrose."

After a minute of eating in silence, Lucas broke it, shyly looking at him. "Hey, Dylan, about what Barry said…" He took a deep breath. "You don't really mind if we stop at the museums, do you?" The orange monkey stopped eating and, at the same time, kindly patted his back while murmuring encouragement in his ear.

"Not at all, Lucas," Dylan was quick to reassure the boy. "I was interested in them anyway. Learning history is fascinating."

A wide smile bloomed on his face when he said that, quickly spreading to the Chimchar, who gave him a nod in return. "Really? Then, we can go together to the Jubilife Museum; it is one of the best there is. Well, not as historical as Celestic Society, but still pretty good."

"Sure, Lucas. I will go with you."

The smile got wider.

"Thank you for that, Dylan."

"No problem, Professor."

The rest of the food was finished without issue, leading them to the moment he had been waiting all morning.

They were in the entrance of the town; the sun was shining in the sky, and white clouds lazily floated past.

"Well, this is the moment we have been waiting for," said Donovan. "I'm so happy for you, Lucas. You will finally begin your travels." The man went in for a hug, holding the boy in his arms as the gesture was reciprocated. "May the Original One bless you in your travels, my son."

Mienshao hugged him too when Donovan was done, purring all the while he did it.

Alakazam ruffled his hair; Lucas gave a small whine as he did so, yet he didn't fight it, nor did he seem displeased by the motion.

Ambrose hugged him after that. "Remember to call us, Lucas. We want to hear all about your adventures on the road."

Dylan felt a little awkward watching such a private moment, so he endeavored to be a good companion and not stare too much.

"My boy," said Archibald. "You are about to go on a very special journey. Full of moments that will last forever in your memory, that will light your dark days and lead to growth that you hadn't experienced before. I hope that you will grow past your loss and be a better person once your travels have ended."

He turned to the dragon on the floor, smiling kindly at him. "You, too, shall know many things as you travel with your human partner and grow with him." He patted the head of the dragon, who gave a single purr in return. "May the Original One grant you a fortuitous journey, lads."

Dylan initiated a hug that was quickly reciprocated. "Thank you so much for everything, Archibald. You have no idea how much it means for me."

The embrace ended with a big smile on Dylan's face, and a pat on the back by the blue jackal.

Ambrose, surprisingly, approached him with steady steps, holding a small box in his hands.- "This is for you, my boy," he said, offering him the object with a sly smile. "I hope you enjoy it."

Dylan arched an eyebrow but didn't comment further, tearing up the protective case and finding what had stared at him from the other side of the screen for years and years of dedicated fandom; a Pokédex.

Incredulity flooded through him; for many days, he had thought the Pokédex was only for the protagonists, or perhaps, barring that, for the ones specifically selected by the Regional Professors by an unknown criterion he was sure he was bound to fail.

Yet, an inexorable part of his childhood dreams was staring at him in the face, with a cheery red color and a dual screen happily proclaiming 'Welcome'. A small stack of paper, likely an instruction manual, also rested on his hands. The mundanity of it made him chuckle.

"I— Thank you." The words to express thanks to the world for all the blessings it had conferred him seemed to run short, never quite reaching the levels he wished to achieve with his intent and actions. "But— I thought these were exclusive?"

Ambrose shook his head. "Hardly, my boy. Professor Oak made them so all could benefit from their functions and knowledge." When he said it like that, it made perfect sense to his ears. He had to begin considering all of those things in his travels. He had to stop thinking of the world like a game; things didn't exist in a vacuum, completely detached from each other. "It would not do to make them so only a few would use it. The reason this one took so long is that it's specially made for Lab Trainers, so it took a little more to get the permits and necessary paperwork for it. I hope it serves you well."

Dylan held the item close to his heart, feeling the smooth texture in his hand. "I will take care of it, I promise, Professor."

"I am sure you will, my boy." He offered a hand, which Dylan eagerly shook.

He turned and saw Tom, Carrie, and Herdie coming running from the distance, followed by four small shapes.

"Dylan!" said Carrie, giving a relieved sigh. "We made it. Sorry for being late."

"Someone overslept today," added Tom.

"Woof!" said Herdie.

"Pom, Aimpom."

"Dof!"

"Bido!"

"Dus."

Dylan laughed. "It's no problem. I'm just happy you came to send me off."

Herdie gave Bahamut a small nuzzle and a lick, with the Jangmo-o returning the former.

"Good luck out there, Dylan. When you make it big, don't forget about us, little people." Carrie gave him a quick hug and an animated pat on the back.

"Enjoy your journey, Dylan. Don't forget to be careful." In contrast, Tom gave him a polite handshake.

The Aipom and the two Bidoofs crowded around Bahamut, patting and nuzzling him, which the dragon returned with a fond roll of the eyes and a mildly questioning look towards the floating skull, who just grinned with its eye in response.

The Pokémon turned to him and waved at him at the same time they spoke, making Dylan want to be able to understand them.

After all was said, he came closer to Lucas and asked, "You ready, kid?"

There was a shine in his eyes that wasn't there before. "Yes, I'm all ready."

"Let's go, then."

They began to walk towards the edge of town, where the grass began to grow, and trees became commonplace.

"Goodbye, lads!"

"Have a good time out there!"

"Take care!"

May blessings shine upon your starlit journey, my dear Interloper.

The people and Pokémon behind continued to wave until they became dots in the distance.

---

He seemed to underestimate a little how much his legs could begin to protest after hours of uninterrupted walking, even when the views awed him. Route 202 was a beautiful collection of winding paths and trees, creating plenty of shade for them as the sun moved in the sky. The smell of the salty breeze was slowly replaced by the smell of grass and leaves, as flocks of Starly passed above them and the occasional Pokémon passed behind the foliage.

To him, it seemed like a magical place, and he carried a smile indicating it in the way he walked. Albeit to Lucas, that was surely a common view, as he and Chimchar kept focused straight ahead, walking side by side.

Bahamut had been on his shoulders for the first part of the walk, jumping off after a while and dutifully following behind. His eyes, like Dylan's own, wandered all around the beautiful views, his head occasionally directing itself towards noises or smells he sensed.

Despite the view having him wanting to explore more, his legs were already engaging in a protest, and his stomach just came to support them. So, Dylan decided to make his companions the offer to rest for the moment. Even when, shamefully for him, he seemed the only one to want to do so.

"Hey, Lucas," he began, "What do you say we stop and make lunch?"

"Don't worry for me, I can still walk." He ignored the small jab his pride received at that.

"I know, but the sun is beginning to burn, and I want to take a bite to eat. If that's ok with you."

The boy nodded, with the monkey mimicking his gesture. "Very well, Dylan. We shall stop to rest, then."

"I will take out the cooking utensils first."

He and Lucas went a bit off the road until they arrived at a small clearing where they started to take out their things when he noticed Bahamut staring at him with an arched eyebrow.

"What?"

"Jang, mo, ang?"

Dylan scoffed. "Not everyone has to have a dragon's stamina, buddy."

The reptile snorted, but otherwise just went to Chimchar and spoke to him, making the monkey pat Lucas in the leg and point to the Jangmo-o, before going near the shade of a tree and starting a conversation of their own.

I sure hope you aren't badmouthing in there, buddy.

He took out the folding table from his backpack, amazed how it just kept going out despite logic dictating that it shouldn't fit at all in the limited space it had at hand. When the table was set, he began to cook their lunch; he was especially careful with what would be Lucas and Chimchar's own portion. He didn't want his culinary abilities to be found lacking by his new traveling partner nor his Pokémon.

After a few moments, he heard Lucas call to him. "Mister Dylan, sir, do you want any help with lunch? I know how to cook."

"Thank you, Lucas. You can help me by cutting the carrots and berries."

"On it."

What a kind kid.

After their lunch was done and served, Bahamut and Chimchar came of their own volition, walking to the table and sitting on the grass behind it, as bowls were lowered to them.

"Hope you don't mind eating there, buddy."

"Jang."

"Thanks for the food," said Lucas, and began to eat,

"Thanks for the food," repeated Dylan.

"So," he spoke, deciding to get to know his new traveling companion better, "you had known Barry since you were kids?"

"Yes," said Lucas. "We have known each other since we were infants. My Grandfather was the one who gave Mister Palmer his very first Pokémon, so when we were born so close to one another, I suppose things just ended up being that way."

Lucas always told him the most interesting things. "So is Palmer a family friend?"

The younger trainer nodded. "He comes occasionally to eat with us or visit Barry. He is usually very busy at the Frontier, so Miss Alice is the one who takes care of the family." There was an odd inflection there, hiding an emotion Dylan couldn't quite place. "She also took care of me a few times when I was younger. Twinleaf isn't that far away from Sandgem, after all."

"I see." He debated with himself about proceeding with a question for him before his mouth formed the words on its own. "Say, Lucas, do you and Barry not get along?" At the questioning look directed his way, he quickly added, "There's no need to tell me if you don't want to. I was just curious."

Lucas swallowed a bite of his food. "It's not that I don't like him. It's just…" He let those words hang in the air a few moments. "He can be rash at times; he never waits for me nor likes my hobbies. And he is always running from one point to the other; I still remember all the times we played hide and seek and that he got distracted and let me wait like a fool in there. I know he isn't bad; he just… Can be a lot sometimes."

He had a feeling he had stepped into something bigger than that, so he said. "I understand. Thank you for telling me."

The plates were finished and cleaned soon afterwards, and Dylan took the chance to direct the next conversation in a way that Lucas would like.

"So, if we continued walking for the rest of the day and woke up early, we should reach Jubilife City in the morning from two days from here. If you want, we could go to the museum you mentioned before."

That brought a smile to the boy's face. "Really? Thank you so much for that! There is a showing for the Diamond and Pearl Clans going on, you know?"

"Huh, I didn't know that. What exactly is it all about?"

"It is a showing of the long history of the Clans," the boy began to speak animatedly, "Many artifacts and logs will be displayed in the West Wing, the one used to host periodic showings, all on loan from the archives of the Clans and even private collections that the leaders have in their homes. They do it occasionally to show the world their long history and connection to Sinnoh," finished the boy, almost bouncing in place.

"I knew they were important, but this makes me feel they are more elite than I imagined."

Lucas nodded. "The Clans are made up of the most important families of Sinnoh. They have everything in there: movie and rock stars, scientists, Elite Trainers, and more." He kept silent for a moment and added almost like an afterthought, "Palmer is part of the Pearl Clan, so Barry is kind of the heir of a branch of the family. Not that he seems aware of that last part."

It seemed that the games were far more connected than he thought. "Really? That's interesting, the Clans must be quite well connected."

"They marry that way, to important people, I mean. Many unions are arranged." He sounded very bitter when he said that, animosity bubbling beneath what usually was a polite and measured voice. "Palmer married for love, though. He is a good man for that." A wistful tone was behind that statement, a small sad smile appearing on his face.

"I see." He will not comment on that; he didn't know Lucas well enough, and it was in bad taste to pry. "Well, then. We will go see all that after we get rooms in the Pokémon center. Is that okay with you?"

"Of course, thank you again, Dylan." The polite tone was back.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, and then it was time to pack up their things and continue walking. While doing that, Dylan was musing on what the possible dynamics of the Clans would be, and how exactly they related to the games he had played back on Earth.

His train of thought was interrupted when Bahamut became alert and stood at the edges of their camp with Chimchar in tow, slightly growling in front of him.

"Bahamut?"

The cause of their growling became clear when a green and white being walked off some bushes, a pinkish spike protruding from its head.

"Oh, it's a Ralts!" said Lucas.

"But I thought they were shy?" At least, that was what the internet had told him. That they were reserved Pokémon who rarely showed themselves to humans, and when they did so, one must respond with a calm manner as to not drive them away.

It looked small and innocent, looking straight at Bahamut as it slowly came closer. Then, it opened its mouth.

"Raltz, la, latz, Ra, ra!"

Bahamut's mouth was now hanging open in surprise, as Chimchar's expression became scandalized.

"Ra, la, la Ra!" Chimchar's hands covered his ears as he backed away from the not-so-innocent-looking Pokémon.

The dual-type Pokémon gestured to itself and then to Bahamut in a clear challenge, before looking at Dylan, smirking and somehow making the foulest symbols with his hands.

Dylan arched an eyebrow and surmised what he had been saying was not polite in the slightest.

Bahamut's mouth clicked close, and a growl raced up until he was in front of the Psychic-type, purple flames spewing from his mouth. The Ralts appeared unaffected by the sign of aggression, and just when Dylan was about to ask the Pokémon what he wanted, the Feeling Pokémon punched the dragon in the face.

The retaliation was made apparent when Bahamut screeched and gave the attacker a Dragon Breath point-blank, which, given the secondary Type of the Ralts, did absolutely nothing. The attacked Pokémon laughed.

The Jangmo-o's face shifted to surprise before quickly changing to frustrated anger, and he looked at him at the same time a pressing "Jangmo-o!" was directed at him.

"Right! Bahamut, Screech!"

The horrible sound emerged from the Dragon-type's mouth, hitting the Ralts head on, making it cover the sides of its head with its arms.

"Tackle!"

The two bodies crashed as the other Pokémon was catapulted away from their position, rolling on the floor when it fell. It quickly regained its momentum and opened its mouth; a strange pinkish aura seemed to expel from it at the same time, and what seemed like a deep opera scream emerged from it.

Bahamut cringed at the noise, closing one eye as he shook his head as if trying to dispel cobwebs surrounding it.

"That must be Disarming Voice! Bahamut, get away from it!"

The dragon did so, jumping out of range as the sound diminished and the rings of Confusion appeared just in the place where Bahamut had been moments ago.

"Work-Up!" Red shone around the dragon as energy accumulated and its attack increased. "Tackle again!"

The Ralts didn't move as the dragon ran closer, and Dylan realized his mistakes as, at the very last second, a purple beam shot from the Ralts, impacting Bahamut and sending him flying past his head.

"Bahamut! You can still win this, buddy!"

"Jangmo-o!"

"Work-Up again!" The tendrils of red that time were more intense than before, as the dragon's face contorted in concentration and anger. "Be ready for another Psybeam! Tackle again!"

Bahamut raced towards the opposing Pokémon; in response, more beams were directed at him as he got closer. "Dodge them!" In an impressive display of acrobatics, the dragon jumped out of the way of the incoming attacks; at the same time, he kept approaching the other Pokémon.

When Dylan saw the dragon had entered the range hew called out, "Flamethrower! Don't stop running!"

The flames hit the small humanoid, eliciting a painful yelp and causing the cessation of all the attacks. Bahamut continued running towards the Ralts, never once stopping the torrent of fire that Dylan was sure would have reduced any other creature to a charred husk.

With a triumphant growl, Bahamut crashed onto the enemy, sending him flying to a nearby tree trunk, the impact shaking the small body. For a moment, the Pokémon stayed plastered onto the wood, but then it slowly began to slide down until it fell on the floor.

Dylan fumbled in his pockets for a Pokéball, sighing in relief when he found one. With his heart beating in his chest, he pressed the button in the middle, making it grow in his hand and threw it in the air.

The Pokéball flew for a few moments before stopping in the air as if held by strings, just in front of the downed Ralts.

"Huh?"

His question was answered when a Gardevoir stepped out of the canopy, so very silently that Dylan didn't notice it until it was in front of them. A telekinetic grip on the Pokéball slowly returned it to his hand, until his fingers touched the smooth surface once more.

"Jang, ang!" Bahamut was frustrated with the current events, if the frown on his face and vocalizations were anything to go by.

"Dylan, I think that its parent," said Lucas, putting the thought it had been formed on his head out in the open.

"Most likely."

The Gardevoir put its hands in the air, directed towards the Ralts, and a pink-hued glow began to emanate from them, hitting the smaller humanoid with a quiet hum. When the waves hit the Pokémon, the burns it had acquired began to heal, slowly being replaced with healthy tissue until there was only unmarred white on them.

The Ralts stirred and incorporated itself, but when it saw the Gardevoir, it began to wildly gesticulate towards itself and then to Dylan's group, hands up in protest. At the same time, a stream of words erupted angrily from its mouth.

Bahamut looked curious now; he walked closer to the protesting Pokémon and spoke to the Gardevoir. "Mo?"

"Garde, Vo, Ir."

Bahamut snorted merrily, albeit what was said was not to the liking of the Ralts, as it began to gesticulate more intensely and an even larger stream of words sprang from its mouth.

"Jang, mo."

As soon as he heard that, the white and green Pokémon jumped at Bahamut with a snarl on its face when he was suspended in midair by the larger humanoid, who gave a tired sigh in response to the action, before proceeding to make an apologetic bow in their direction.

"Oh, it isn't any trouble at all," he responded automatically. "We had a small but fun battle with Ralts."

Said Pokémon struggled in midair when it heard its name being called, trying in vain to free itself from the mental grip it had found itself on. "Ralts, ra, ra al, alts lala alts!

The Gardevoir just put a hand on its forehead in clear consternation before saying something in an admonishing way that sounded so much like a schoolteacher it brought his memories of his own childhood to his overworked and underpaid caretakers, who he could always sort of tell when a headache was coming to them by their expression that demanded a raise for their troubles. A raise that they knew was never coming to them.

Having seen that whatever it was said fell on deaf ears, the Ralts instead turned to look at him, put his hands beneath his chin, and gave him admittedly one of the best puppy-eyed expressions he had ever seen, two red eyes managing to peek past the cut of hair on his head.

"You want to come with me?"

An enthusiastic nod was his answer as hands were raised in his direction and the struggle in the air became even more frantic.

Taking that as his cue to interrupt, he walked until he was in front of the Gardevoir and its attention was directed to him. "Good day to you, kind si—ma'am," he said, quickly changing the words when the Pokémon shook his head at the first word. "I'm called Dylan, and if you would allow me to take your child into my care, I will be grateful. I promise that I will take care of his needs and see he doesn't hunger."

Critical eyes were now on him, silently analyzing him and his intentions; the struggling form held in her grip slacking just a bit and standing in what now was in rapt attention to the unfolding conversation taking place.

Then, he felt it. What could be described as a tap in the inside of his head, a soft touch asking for entrance, making Dylan gape as he understood it as an ask for permission to communicate mind to mind.

He stood quiet for a few moments, before steeling himself and nodding. When he did, a female voice began to be projected directly into his brain.

"Good day to you, human." The voice was polite and measured, proper of a lady in a period drama. "It is to my understanding you want to take my son with you. And I want to ask, why?"

"Well, I am a trainer," he found himself saying the words aloud rather than trying to do it solely in his mind. He would rather have the chance to think before speaking instead of having his unfinished thoughts communicated. "And I am going to participate in the Gym Circuit this year, so I need strong Pokémon and partners to compete and grow together as a team, battling strong opponents all the way."

The Ralts cried with joy as soon as the words 'strong opponent' went past his lips, pumping up his arms.

"And you believe my son will aid you in that endeavor," said the Pokémon.

"He seems willing." He absolutely did; he was nodding furiously in their direction, an excited smile on his face.

"And would you guarantee his safety?"

"As the name implies, the Gym Circuit is a competition with referees and such; it's not to the death or something like that, and there are medical centers available in case of injury. If he is hurt battling, we can heal him."

The Ralts was let down the floor, where he proceeded to come and tug the hem of the 'dress' the Gardevoir had. The message was clear.

After a few moments where Dylan debated if his first possible capture would be voided by a concerned parent, the tall humanoid gave a single nod in his direction before looking to her son and kneeling until she was facing him eye to eye.

He surmised a whole telepathic communication happened without him knowing how truly fast it was, until the Gardevoir rose as the Ralts cheered and jumped in place.

"Very well. I shall allow my son to accompany you."

"Yes! Thank you!"

"I must warn you, though. My son can be quite… the mouthful."

"Don't worry, I will take care of him. You have a cute kid there."

Pain blossomed in his stomach when a fist connected to it, the small form surprisingly capable of delivering quite the force when he wanted.

As soon as he almost doubled over, Bahamut was on him, snarling. He tackled it to the floor when they began another impromptu scuffle, where fist and fangs were thrown around.

He recovered quickly, clutching his aching stomach.

"As I said, he can be quite the mouthful. Do you still want him to accompany you?"

"Of course. Rather, the convincing was almost too quick and easy."

"We Pokémon gain strength by battles. There is no shame searching for strong opponents," explained Gardevoir. "Furthermore, this forest now was too small for him; it left him with too much energy. I think traveling will do him well."

Bahamut's jaws were clamped on the chest of the small humanoid, with the latter punching with wild abandon the snout of the reptile, a snarl plastered on both of their faces.

"I will do my best to help him burn that energy."

A small nod was offered in response.

"Bahamut, that's enough. Let's stop." With a last bite, the dragon obeyed and separated from the other Pokémon, who surely said a lot of cuss words at the same time it made obscene signs with his hands.

"Ral, alts, ral, al al, Ralts!"

"That's enough for you too. It's time to catch you up." His fingers curved over the smooth surface of the Pokéball.

The Ralts straightened and stared at him with anticipation.

The ball flew in the air, red and black, impacting against a body that quickly dissolved into a stream of light, coalescing into a swirling mass of energy before shooting to the Pokéball, which then impacted the floor with a soft thud.

Thrice it wiggled before settling down and giving the small ping that told him the Pokémon had been caught.

He walked to the Pokéball and took it. He had captured a Ralts; the Feeling Pokémon was now his companion in his new journey.

"Yes! I captured a new Pokémon!" He couldn't help but say.

"Jangmo-o!"

"Congratulations, Dylan!"

"Char!"

He pressed the release button, letting the Ralts materialize on the floor. "Welcome to the team, Ralts. My First Fang and I are happy to have you on board. I hope we can be good friends together."

The Pokémon had a cocky smile on his face. "Ral, al." He outstretched a fist that Dylan met with his own. Jangmo-o did the same, albeit with a slight tone of reluctance.

"My son is now in your hands. Take good care of him." She reclined her head and caressed the head of her son one last time before her whole body shined, and she disappeared before his eyes, the Teleport taking her to parts unknown.

Well, thought Dylan. This is a good start.

---

Well, thought Bahamut. This is a horrible start.

That damnable Ralts had his legs interlocked beneath that strange fold that looked a lot like human clothes, reclined on the bark of the tree while his Heart and the boy prepared dinner.

They had walked more after capturing the new team member, occasionally resting beneath the shade of the trees. They had done so until the sun had begun to set, and they decided to rest for the day, setting up camp before starting to cook their food.

The green and white Pokémon had refused to go into the Pokéball again, choosing instead to walk alongside them, managing to keep the pace despite looking frail. Not that he was; his attack hit like a ton of rocks despite his size. But that wasn't the part that annoyed him; it was that he never stopped speaking like he owned their team.

"Hey, Dragon, is dinner ready? I'm hungry."

He wanted to punch him. Why did the annoying Pokémon come to him and his team? Was there something that attracted their attention? It must have been. Otherwise, they wouldn't be so annoying.

"It will be ready when it's ready. Stop asking." Better assert his authority now, rather than wait and let that Pokémon have… ideas. "And remember, I am the First Fang."

"This thing isn't big enough to need one, you fuck." Calm, Bahamut, calm. Dylan already told him to stop; he won't disappoint his Heart. "This shit isn't a Fief either." No matter how tempting it is to wipe that stupid smirk from its fucking face.

"No matter. I am still his First Fang, his second in command."

"The boss is the boss, but you are as much of a lackey as I am, asshole."

Bahamut's eye twitched, and he wondered if plastering the Pokémon on the floor would make Dylan angry. He was currently stirring the soup that was to be their lunch in the pot, while the younger human put the dishes in place. Both were speaking about the museum visit tomorrow and where to go afterwards. He better not interrupt them.

"I am the First Fang," he insisted. "I rank higher than you." He came closer to the Pokémon, until red eyes managed to look at a very similar pair hidden by green. "Don't forget that."

The Ralts snorted. "The First Fang of a group that has only two Pokémon. How impressive," he said, thick with sarcasm.

Bahamut's desire to toast him grew even further.

"It doesn't matter. I am still the First Fang, and he is our leader. There won't be any more attacks on him. Am I clear?"

"…He deserved that one."

He was closer to him, flames spewing past his maw. "Am I clear?"

"You wanna fight, you little fuck?"

"Not at all, you cute little thing." He spat that last part like bile.

The Feeling Pokémon stopped being seated, rising to meet Bahamut. "Say that again, you fucking waste of space. I dare you."

"You—"

His insult was interrupted by a pair of hands putting themselves between the warring Pokémon. "I think we should calm down a little," said Chimchar nervously. "We must be hungry and cranky; why not wait until we have had our dinner?"

Bahamut breathed through his nose once, calming himself down. He wouldn't let that smarmy little thing rile him up. He would remain calm and keep his pride as First Fang.

"Do you really need this wuss to save you, dragon? Are you that weak?"

No matter how delectable it would be to burn him to a crisp.

"Fine, let's wait for dinner then." He walked for a bit before turning and speaking again to the Ralts. "And my name is Bahamut. Remember it well."

"Humph." Ralts returned to his previous position and relaxed once again.

Bahamut decided to stay the rest of the day with Dylan, lest he lose his temper again.

Unbidden, Chimchar came close to him and spoke, "Don't be too harsh on him. He just left home; he must be quite nervous." Bahamut thought he was giving him too much credit. "I am still nervous after leaving Sandgem. It will pass."

"It better pass quickly; I won't tolerate that much sass. Especially against Dylan."

"I will speak to him; he needs a friend in these moments." Bahamut snorted. "But I get a feeling you will be a good team."

Bahamut watched him go and start speaking to their newest member, who dismissively spoke back.

It was odd to say, but he already missed when there was just Dylan and him. It was calmer and more organized, he felt. Nevertheless, this was part of the growth of their team, and he wouldn't be the one to put it in jeopardy.

Their team will grow, and he shall help Dylan direct him as his First Fang.

He watched Chimchar recoil at one of the cuss words from Ralts.

Bahamut sighed. At least that floating skull wasn't there.

---

Good day to you! Have the seventh chapter! I hope you are enjoying it, and I hope you are not too bored. I hope you liked Jangmo-o's new name; sorry if it's too cliché or something.

By the way, I recently received input that the title sounded too AI, so I have been thinking of changing it to [A Faller's Legendarium], since it encompasses the themes the work has. What do you think? Should I leave it as it is or change it?

Having said that, I hope to see you next time!

 

[Abhijithvc]

That meant, in theory, that Hyperbeam could be fed Dragon Energy to become a Gigaflare

Click to shrink...

Isn't that what the ability Dragonize does? It turns every Normal-type move into a Dragon-type move and boosts its power by 20%. There are other similar abilities that convert Normal-type moves into other types, like Pixilate (Fairy), Aerilate (Flying), and Galvanize (Electric) etc.

 

[A Cat With a Quill]

Isn't that what the ability Dragonize does? It turns every Normal-type move into a Dragon-type move and boosts its power by 20%. There are other similar abilities that convert Normal-type moves into other types, like Pixilate (Fairy), Aerilate (Flying), and Galvanize (Electric) etc.

Click to shrink...

Yup. But the Jangmo-o line doesn't have that Ability, so Dylan is thinking of converting Hyper Beam to Gigaflare.

Thank you for taking the time to comment.