Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Altered Bonds

  Chapter 26 — Homes So Far Away

  Brownish-yellow grass swayed to an invisible breeze in the savanna-like biome that Mismagius had conjured up. In one specific patch of that grass, Jolteon cackled, rolling about and getting straw all over her fur, a surprise invader to the dreamscape. Dumbstruck, Eira watched her as she flopped onto her side, limbs jittery with manic, pent-up energy. Physical limbs, belonging to a physical body.

  “Oh, hey Eira!” Jolteon twisted her head to wave at her. “I know we don’t talk much, but I’m letting you know now that I have no beef with you doing stupid things like fighting Weavile even though I kinda wish you didn’t, sorry! Sweet dream by the way! I can blab like a Toedscruel spitting out an entire castle made out of Bullet Seeds and Espeon can’t stop me! Hi to you too, Mismagius, this is the coolest thing you’ve ever done and I love you to the moon for it!”

  Just hearing Jolteon talk made Eira feel like what little extroversion she had was being leeched away by her. She slowly turned to Mismagius, words failing her.

  The witch’s smile stretched across her entire face. “I thought Eevee and his kin would appreciate the wonders of dream magic,” she said.

  “I’m so appreciating it right now! I’ve been cooped up in big brother’s head for too long and it’s boring me to death!” Jolteon smushed her face into the grass. “Oh, solid earth, how my paws miss you!”

  She immediately got up and ran with a whoop, moving back into the forest. Eira winced as she tripped yet again on a root and flopped out of sight. A set of tsks sounded from behind.

  “Heedless child,” came Espeon’s voice.

  “She should’ve relearned to walk first,” Umbreon stated.

  “Hey! I can hear you thinking those words that I know you just spoke, you know!”

  Espeon and Umbreon too had their bodies restored to their fleshy, furred forms, Eira found, the stoic pair rolling their eyes. Vaporeon stood a short distance behind them, a serene smile forming as she dipped her head toward Eira. Her body was scaly, she realized, not furred — it was a detail her ghost form wouldn’t have revealed. Close to her, Eevee wore a grin that could illuminate the savanna field by itself, his crystals seemingly a little duller in color than usual. The faint tethering lines that would appear when his siblings came out in ghost form were absent.

  Eira’s hands crept up to her mouth, the girl left in awe. “Y-you have bodies!”

  “What else does it look like to you?” Glaceon said, Eira jumping as she found the Ice-type Eeveelution had snuck up on her. She had a silly smile, her body lightly furred and lithe. “Not that we get to keep them outside of dreamland, though, and it’s kinda annoying that I still hear everyone blabbing in my head. But hey, I won’t complain about a fun little illusion like this! Been too long since I could feel things, or not be constantly tired and stuff.”

  A sternness entered Eevee’s voice. “Don’t grow too used to it,” he warned, “our patron’s not always around to manipulate our dreams and it wouldn’t be healthy in the long run anyway. Though we do owe you for this, Mismagius.”

  Eira thought she heard Jolteon let out a loud, moaning cry in the forest, as if Eevee had spoiled all her fun. Vaporeon shook her head, she and Eevee sharing a humored smile.

  Goodness, just the ability to see the expressions their mouths made, it added so much life to Eevee’s siblings. Eira marveled as they enjoyed the blessing of having real bodies again, if only for a short while. Had Mismagius really done this? What for?

  The witch cleared her throat, sensing her general thoughts and waving toward Glaceon. This confused Eira for a moment, until Glaceon gave a little chuckle and tapped the human girl.

  “I did say I’d help you with your Ice abilities, didn’t I?” she said.

  “Both for your human and Pokemon side,” Mismagius clarified, Eira growing wide-eyed at once. “Seeing that you share your type affinities, it is only appropriate to have her assist with my tutelage. Sylveon too may help with your Fairy side, which you’ll likely develop in time.”

  Of course, Sylveon’s voice echoed from Espeon’s telepathy. Eira had the strange sensation he was deep in the forest, perhaps where Flareon and Leafeon also were. It’d be my honor.

  It went unsaid that Mismagius would remain the Ghost-type expert for their training. “Beats being a shade with nothing better to do. How about it?” Glaceon said as she slunk up to Eira. “Wanna learn Ice energy stuff from a professional?”

  On top of the Eeveelutions having temporary bodies, the whole situation felt like a rather literal fever dream. It overwhelmed Eira, the girl managing a bright smile at the sheer wonder of it all.

  “Do you even have to ask?” she questioned.

  At Glaceon’s behest, they started out with move training, Eira switching into her Alolan Vulpix form and raising her head toward the now-taller Glaceon. “I’ve got Mismagius’s permission to do whatever as long as it’s useful for both your forms, so we can take as long as you need,” she said. “Like I said before, Icy Wind’s a good start. It’s like Powder Snow, but with no snow and just a ton of wind. Mind if I show you?”

  Eager to try, Eira urged her on, and so Glaceon showed off her own Powder Snow. She breathed out with a strong exhale, letting out a gust of air that carried a flurry of pellets. Then she transitioned, letting out less and less snow over time, and huffing out more of the frigid wind that had propelled the snow. Soon, all she blew out was wind, its chill sucking out the warmth in the air.

  It was ridiculously easy to repeat. Eira had already toyed with wind when training as a human, and it took little effort adapting it into a Vulpix’s Icy Wind. In only a few minutes, she had herself huffing out freezing gales and chilling blades of long grass and tree bark. She even had a decent grasp on controlling its speed, force, and spread.

  Eira let out one last gust that snatched leaves off the trees and left a thin layer of frost on them. “That good?” she said, maybe with a little more cheer than necessary.

  Glaceon took one look at the results of her Icy Wind and pretended to sneer. “Real quick on the draw, aren’t you?” she said. “But yeah, that’ll set us up for what I really want to show you.”

  “Oh?”

  The temperature abruptly dropped around Glaceon, snowy particles and diamond dust forming around her. “Just a natural trick of my kind,” she explained to Eira, who grew captivated by the snow and sparkling mist. “We can form snow around us at will, though it’s more of a party trick than a proper attack like Powder Snow. You fond of that move by any chance?”

  Eira gave the question some serious thought. The move had been a decent and reliable ranged attack from the very start, though it wasn’t exactly powerful. “A little?”

  “Just a little, huh? Cause I got something that’ll make you appreciate it a little more.”

  Glaceon’s snow and ice particles continued to grow, swirling around her, and Eira blinked as her visage suddenly seemed blurry. As if it blended — melded, even? — into the mini snowstorm. The snow swept past them, veiling her vision—

  And Eira startled at how Glaceon seemed to teleport, suddenly appearing several feet away in the blink of an eye. Before she could even exclaim at this, the snow buffeted her vixen form, and Eira swore she felt herself become one with the mini-storm, for just a fleeting moment.

  Then it passed by, leaving her with a smirking Glaceon. “Snow Cloak,” she said. “First time getting to feel your Ability in action? Coat yourself in even a little bit of snow, and you’re basically untouchable.”

  To Eira’s eyes, that was possibly the second coolest power she’d ever been told she could learn to use, only beaten by illusions. “Woah,” she breathed.

  Mismagius pulled over with a smile. “I did have plans this session for what to teach you regarding control over your Ice,” she said, “but Glaceon’s idea proved to be better than anything I alone could come up with. Faaaaar more interesting as an exercise in control, for both your forms.”

  “Yep!” said Glaceon. “You want to do that on your own? You gotta learn to combine your snow and wind together first. Do it well enough and you’ll be set to create some Blizzards and even your own Sn*wscape, which will go perfectly with your Ability.”

  Snowscape? Like snowy weather or something? Eira pondered over the concept, and felt a small explosion go off in her head. She wanted this so, so badly.

  It was tricky to figure this out, however. No longer was she trying to use wind to propel her Powder Snow forward, but instead, she had to make it move and twist around her form. The task perplexed her as she tried to exhale the snow particles and make her wind shift around, only achieving slight curves in her trajectory. Then she tried huffing out Icy Winds and manipulating them, with little improvement.

  Glaceon chuckled at her initial attempts, before stepping in. “You know most Pokemon don’t try to form Blizzards with their mouth, right?” she said. “I find it’s easier to start by forming snow and ice particles around your body.”

  That wasn’t exactly a fair comparison, Glaceon had made it clear she could innately do that. But come to think of it, wasn’t it true that Alolan Vulpix often cooled themselves by creating ice particles in their tails, which they then sprayed over themselves? And besides, hadn’t she been creating ice particles around her as a human?

  Eira couldn’t perfectly mimic a human’s magic as a Pokemon, but the concept was more than simple enough that she had no trouble adapting. Recalling what Glaceon did, she let the inner cold of her Vulpix form seep out, chilling the air, and made diamond dust particles form around. They drifted there, slowly falling to the yellow grass. “Huh,” she said.

  “Try moving them if you can,” Glaceon told her.

  How she was meant to do that, Eira wasn’t sure. Surely not by creating a full-blown Icy Wind, right? She stared intently at the floating particles of ice, then shook her head.

  She shifted to human form, Mismagius and Glaceon raising brows at her transformation. “One moment,” said Eira, forming a few particles of snow and ice with her magic. By now she’d gotten rather adept and efficient with doing this, feeling only a tiny amount of soulburn for her efforts. Conjuring cold wind and building a blueprint for making the itty-bitty particles swirl around her was more taxing, but definitely more manageable than it would’ve been on her first day of training.

  A slight flick of her hand, and a breeze manifested, making the particles briefly fly about in a circle around her. Another flick, another breeze, the wind following the movements of her hand. Maybe she could reverse-engineer this into something her Vulpix form could do? The gesture seemed to help as a conduit for creating and directing her wind, maybe her Alolan Vulpix self could do something similar?

  No, she definitely could do something similar. The concept was forming in her head now. Switching back into her Vulpix form, Eira raised her six tails and called on her Icy Wind, first trying to get the hang of forming the move outside her body. A swish of her tails and a gust flew in its wake, curving through the air as it chilled the surroundings. Eira noted the trajectory, before her brows shot up.

  Normally her move created heavy, large amounts of wind. Too much, in fact, for fine control. She called up another Icy Wind, but a small, gentle one this time, and made her tails flick. A tiny breeze flew in its wake, not a fierce one that promised to batter down all in its path, but the impish kind that brushed against one’s nape and whispered chilling taunts into the ears. She shifted her tails further, bending them around, and the wind followed.

  Right there, that was it! She had control over her Icy Wind for some time after launching it — and small gusts were far easier to manipulate. Eira couldn’t help but grin as she formed a few particles of ice and snow, then conjured a slight breeze with her tails, gleeful as she managed to direct the wind to capture her particles. With slight gestures, the snow flew around her in a half-circle, before inadvertently scattering as it escaped her wind. It was far from perfect, but she had herself a starting point!

  Clapping sounded from her left side, and Eira broke out of her fugue, finding Mismagius tittering to herself as she applauded the girl. “Such a natural, isn’t she?” she boasted.

  Glaceon had a brow raised, genuinely impressed. “You do learn pretty fast,” she agreed. “I didn’t even have to give any big hints, you’re quick to figure stuff out on your own! Hey, Vaporeon, I think I got you a perfect sparring partner in the making!”

  Eevee chuckled beside Vaporeon, while Umbreon and Espeon snorted, the latter allowing herself a smirk as she eyed the Water-type — Eira had all but forgotten they were there. A gleam shone in Vaporeon’s eyes as she gave a dignified toss of her head, her gaze laser-focused on her.

  “Is that to suggest,” she said, “that she’ll surpass your own level of trickery?”

  “Ha! Like I’d let her outclass me in the snow department!” Glaceon smacked Eira’s leg. “But yeah, you know what? I think this little mage here’s got the talent and drive to put a conniving combat jerk like you in retirement!”

  A yearning smile spread across Vaporeon’s face. “I would savor such a duel,” she said, letting out a ladylike chuckle as she hid her mouth behind her tail. “There will be a day when a single use of any of your skills, dear Eira, will unnerve your foes. This I am certain of.”

  The lofty words melted Eira’s core. She pawed the ground, blushing at the approval the others had given her.

  “It’s just a little wind,” she mumbled.

  Glaceon let out a titter. “When I’m done with you, it’ll be more than just a little wind.”

  Eira was having a good time in her dreams, Lucario could tell. His aurasense active, he sensed the fluctuations in her spirit, revealing little nuggets of joy and wonder — not far from the pleasant feelings he sensed from Eevee and his siblings. Mismagius had made some kind of training regimen for Eira with Eevee and Glaceon involved, if he understood correctly, and the emotions in their subconsciousness suggested they were enjoying themselves.

  Eira and Eevee were also smiling in their sleep, so that also gave it away.

  Mismagius had sat out in the open for once, leaning against a tree with shut eyes, and she too radiated with feelings of enjoyment. Unnervingly though, her smile faced Lucario despite the kink it must’ve put on her neck. A Dream Eater didn’t need to actually sleep in order to be part of its victim’s dream, after all. Lucario avoided giving her any attention, focusing on Togetic’s work.

  A little sphere of pink hovered over her glowing nubs, wobbling and churning as she tried to enlarge it. It reached a size barely larger than a baseball before popping, Togetic huffing at her repeated failures. “You’re doing well,” Lucario reassured her. “That should be enough for today, you shouldn’t burn yourself out.”

  Togetic dipped her head in acknowledgement, though Lucario sensed the self-disappointment hidden in the gesture too. She sat herself down, letting only a little ember of pink energy flare up on her arm. Through it, she took in the purity of those around her, and the underlying strands of aura that tugged at their souls.

  Lucario could almost hear the thoughts bouncing around in her head, waiting to be said as words. “Few Pokemon get the hang of Aura Sphere before they’ve fully evolved, you’re making solid progress despite that,” he added.

  “I’m not sure if I see it that way.”

  The jackal caught her eyes darting toward a sleeping Eira. “You’re comparing yourself to her.”

  “I—” Togetic flinched. “Yes.”

  Zealous young human. Eira’s appetite for moves and magic was insatiable at times, and she was swift to pick up on new tricks. “She doesn’t get where she is by overexerting herself, though,” Lucario reminded her. “Practice hard, but don’t waste yourself. I’ve seen my old teammates do that, and it only ruined their progress and made them extra bitter inside.”

  Togetic took in the logic and nodded. Her gaze continued to linger on Eira, a half-smile gracing her face. The pink wisp on her arm flickered.

  “Must be a wonderful dream she’s having,” she said. “Her spirit, it’s like it’s filled to the brim with giddiness.”

  It had surprised Lucario that Togetic learned to trace emotions so quickly. But in hindsight, she had already been keen enough to detect Eira’s transformation backlash in its earlier stages — the angelic was much more talented than she allowed herself to realize. “The kid’s happy,” Lucario said, taking in Eira’s feelings too.

  “She needs more happiness in her life.”

  “She does.”

  Eira was tuckered out. Mentally speaking.

  She lay sprawled on the ground in human form. Her hand moved over her chest in lazy motions, making little gusts of wind and tracing clumsy shapes with it. A wind-down from her exercises today.

  Lying next to her, Glaceon chuckled at her self-indulgence. “You know you can stop, right?”

  A silly smile formed on Eira’s face. Her soul ached, but she couldn’t help herself. “I’m having too much fun.”

  “You tell me you’re exhausted and yet you’re still messing with your magic, because you’re having too much fun?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mismagius, sitting a short distance away with her dress draped over the yellow grass, let out a chortle at her addiction. “You Leafeon-level geek,” teased Glaceon.

  “I’m right here, you know,” came Leafeon’s voice.

  “That was the point!” Glaceon said back. “I’m such a kind and considerate twin sister like that! If I’m gonna slander your name for being a nerd on history, Legendaries, and myths, you better be there to defend yourself!”

  Glaceon had been putting Eira through her paces, training her to finely control her wind and snow as an Alolan Vulpix. Mismagius too, once she decided to give a few pointers for her human side. She learned how to capture snow and ice particles in her wind and direct them without accidentally scattering any flakes, and how to group them together and make little snowstorms out of it. It was exhausting, and she wasn’t quite adept enough to use it with her Snow Cloak, but she had a solid base to work with.

  More than anything, it was something else she could practice freely in her Pokemon form. And she could do a lot more fun things with this compared to Confuse Ray. She had been a little reluctant to use that on others, even for training purposes.

  Eevee and his siblings had quietly talked, joked, and messed with each other while she’d been working with her Ice abilities, enjoying their temporary physical forms. At some Leafeon, Flareon, and Sylveon had emerged from the trees, all looking rather scuffed up and with various scratches and cuts on their bodies — apparently they’d taken advantage of the dreamscape to wrestle with each other in a three-way fight. Jolteon joined too once she’d gotten over the thrill of running like a maniac again, taking a mild interest in Eira’s training.

  “I will instruct you to make correlations between what you’ve learned here and how it may serve your illusions in the future,” Mismagius said, and Eira tilted her head to face her tutor. “A trickster should know all the ways they can outsmart their opponents in a fight.”

  Eira nodded in understanding. “You progress finely,” continued Mismagius. “Better than I originally imagined, indeed. I think it will be prudent to hone your Psychic and Ghost energies during our next sessions, if we wish to give you some basic control over illusions. Otherwise, you are free to work with your native Ice energies while you are awake in your Vulpix form.”

  “Yep! And if you want a little assistance, I’ll be there in spirit!” Glaceon winked at her. “Liked the dream scenery, by the way? If you can’t tell, this is good old Blitzfield Island, our former home. Neat place, isn’t it?”

  “Rad place, she means!” Jolteon butted in. “We’re talking large yellow plains and hilly plateaus, and moody skies ready to send down torrents of rain and lightning! It’s got personality!”

  “It’s nostalgic,” Espeon said. Jolteon stuck her tongue at her, then yelped a little too loudly as Espeon levitated a fallen branch and made it bonk her head.

  Eira took in her surroundings with a little extra appreciation. This was Blitzfield Island? She supposed it did have a bit of a personality to it. “This forest,” she said, “was it near your village?”

  Frowns and crooked expressions formed as the Eeveelutions reminisced over the old days. “A bit of a distance away, I think,” Eevee replied. “We used to play here as little children. Bittersweet memories.”

  Eira flushed, realizing she must’ve struck a nerve. “Don’t worry about it,” Eevee added as he caught her discomfort. “What happened ‘round these parts had nothing to do with you.”

  “It’ll never be home again,” muttered Umbreon.

  Espeon turned to send him a stern look, then reconsidered, a sigh leaving her instead. “We asked Mismagius to let us see this place one last time, that we might leave with fonder memories of it,” she said. “Even if we were cured, we feel our old neighbors will never see us the same again.”

  The bleak words stung Eira, the girl sympathizing at once. Giving up your home because you’d never be welcome again, that had to hurt. What could you do, really, when the residents couldn’t see you as anything other than a monster? And even if they could, how would things remain the same, after all that had happened?

  Oh, Mother.

  “Not that we’ll let you end up unable to go home yourself,” Glaceon said, trying to bring back a little cheer into the conversation. “Say, about your hometown — what was its name, Malie City? What’s it like there in a real human city?” A sly grin spread across her face. “Any chance we can see it?”

  Eira felt her mind whir as she re-examined the dreamy landscape around her, as did Glaceon’s siblings, their eyes blinking all at once. Leafeon heaved as if his twin had said the most profound words of her entire life.

  “Oh my gosh, could we?” he exclaimed.

  Everyone turned upon Mismagius, who wore a wide smile. One that masked the voracious hunger for human knowledge within. “I have been meaning to request such a thing myself,” she told Eira. “It is easiest to project your memories of home with your permission, mind you. What you wish for, it shall manifest. What manifests, I can steer.”

  So it was. All too easily did Eira recall the familiar streets and buildings that made Malie City, its appearance etched in her head. “Sure?” she said, standing up. “It looks something like—”

  She turned and gaped at the paved gray roads and the human buildings, reminiscent of Kantonian and Johntonian-style homes. Patterned tiles decorated their sloped, layered roofs, lattice shutters framed their windows, and wooden paneling gave detail to their walls. They stood on a rather hilly section of the suburbs, the roads curving and zigzagging as they went down the rugged terrain. Sidewalks and stony stairs allowed for easy foot traffic up and down the area, Eira finding that they looked rather lonely at the lack of pedestrians using them.

  As if responding to Eira’s thoughts, a few humans poofed into existence, their faces blurred and hazy. An Oddish was held in the arms of one, and a Growlithe trotted behind another. A car passed by as it descended the hills, followed closely by a rider on a Rapidash, vehicle and Pokemon sharing the roads with each other. Near the foot of the hills, Eira spotted the more urban areas of Malie City popping into view, containing various plazas and lanterns hung between the roofs of businesses and apartments. A little smile touched her face as she recognized Midori Plaza, named after the distinctive green roof tiling of its buildings and home to the infamous Sushi High Roller restaurant, along with the local malasada store. Even further out, one could see the sea, sprawling out past the docks at the edge of the horizon.

  “Like that,” she finished. “It looks like that.”

  To say the Eeveelutions were engrossed was an understatement. One look, and they were all turning into Leafeon-level geeks. “The moving metal vehicles!” Jolteon exclaimed as two more cars drove past them. “Look at them!”

  “This is the city?” Flareon yelled, gesturing around at the suburbs. “Shouldn’t that freakshow of a construction jungle down there be a city?”

  “I think both are part of the city,” Sylveon pointed out. “They just have large residential areas.”

  “What? How big are human cities?”

  “Big,” Espeon said. Flareon glared at her. She ignored him and resumed scrutinizing the vehicle roads, questioning their very nature. “The roads are rather uniform.”

  “And seamless,” Umbreon added. His stony face had broken off, revealing a more child-like expression of wonder. “The houses too, their shapes and materials follow notable patterns, yet they manage to be distinctive.”

  “Curious. Wouldn’t humans mass-produce the resources used to make them?”

  Eevee cackled as his brothers and sisters gawked at everything they could. He and Vaporeon pointed at different structures in the city, the two whispering excitedly about what they saw. Mismagius too couldn’t contain herself, moving about and taking in all the sights that she could from their hilly viewpoint. Her face was as radiant as a glowing Solgaleo, and filled with unmasked bliss.

  “This city!” she said, giggling like there was no tomorrow. “It makes me feel like a little Misdreavus again! Such an alien yet gorgeous sight — ee-hee-hee-hee! Why, I feel compelled to visit the real thing! Ooh, that tower! Does that resemble what I think it does?”

  Her cloth-arm waved in the direction of a five-story pagoda tower with black roofing, positioned in a little square of its own amidst the urban structures. It was impossible to see from here, but Eira could imagine the Darumaka lanterns and the Darmanitan statues at the front — people loved to spread rumors to tourists about how those might be actual Darmanitan, hibernating in some kind of special Zen Mode. “The Kantonian Gym?” Eira said. “Yeah, it has the same structure as the Berrypark Dojo.”

  “Kantonian? I thought your notes stated this architecture—”

  “Came from Johto? The name’s misleading, I know. I’ve never really gone there, but I think it functions like the dojo does on most days.”

  Whenever it wasn’t scheduled for gym fights with its owner Ryuki anyway. The hillside view unfortunately didn’t let them see Malie Garden from here, but she could show that later. “Mother and I liked to watch the city from this spot,” Eira said. “It’s pretty close to our house.”

  “Tall tales really don’t do a human city justice,” Leafeon muttered.

  Jolteon slid up next to Eira. “Okay, like, this is sicker than a plague from the Calamitus,” she said. “Leafeon wants a notepad by the way.”

  “I need a notepad!”

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  Eira covered her laugh, watching Glaceon slowly peel her eyes away from the urbanized parts of Malie City. “So uh, usually I leave Leafeon to obsess over human world stuff like buildings and whatever for me,” she said. “I’m fixing that mistake now.”

  More laughter. Turning around, Eira faced the houses lining the street, mixed feelings welling up in her as she spotted her home. Its roof was covered in lovely indigo tiles, and a wide set of wooden steps led up onto the front porch, a cushioned bench sitting close to the door. Unoccupied.

  A strange, melancholic desire made her want to sit there, to sink into the cushion and let all her worries drain away. “That one,” she said. “That’s where Mother and I lived.”

  Her feet moved as if under a spell. Traveling as often as she and Mother did, she was hardly one to feel attached to any one particular place — but a home was still a home. Herein lied the bulk of her memories, a dwelling where she could rest, relax, and recharge from the adventures of life. A place meant to be her hearth, shared by mother and daughter.

  It looked sullen, its purpose drained away. Walking toward her dream-conjured home, Eira could imagine it, going back to the real deal after a miraculous escape from Haven Archipelago, and finding it hollow inside. It was not truly home, after all, just a house. A home needed both mother and daughter.

  There would be no Mother in that equation.

  Oh, Mother.

  Her feet faltered right before the steps. Eira took in the lonely building, and wondered what state she would find it in if she actually returned to Malie City. If it took too long, would the owners be presumed dead and the deed left to another interested in moving in? What would she do with the house, anyway, if she were able to inherit it from her late mother? Would she really want to stay? Could she bear to?

  “Eira,” Vaporeon said, and the human spun around to find the scaly Water-type looking up at her, Glaceon next to her with an anxious expression — as if feeling a sudden guilt for pushing her to conjure her home in the first place. Eevee and his siblings had trailed her, eyeing either her or the house itself, their emotions complex. “Do you need anything?”

  She didn’t know. She really didn’t know. Eira turned to Mismagius, as if she would have some magic solution for everything. All her teacher had, however, was a look of sympathy. Genuine. Her gaze pierced through the house, seeing the sorrow it presented.

  Vaporeon too had the insight to understand Eira’s gloom. “Our mother was a sickly one,” she said, making the girl purse her lips. “Startlingly old in age when she had us. Losing her was hard on me — hard on our father too. Grief took his life not long after.” A slight sadness seeped out from her controlled tone. “Sylveon and Jolteon have never seen their faces in person. Eevee and I were effectively their parents.”

  The two young Eeveelutions made abashed faces. “Hadn’t seen much of my parents as a kit myself, truth be told,” Glaceon murmured. “Vaporeon’s got all the memories of them.”

  Eevee inhaled, reliving his own memories, and now Eira was the one feeling ashamed. This wasn’t what she wanted when she tried to show Malie City to the others. “I—” she started, before bringing herself to sit on the wooden steps of her porch. “I’m going to be alone if I return to my world. W-what happens then?”

  What do I do with the rest of my life, without Mother?

  “You’re not alone.” Vaporeon tail flicked against Eevee, who swatted it away, to her brief amusement. “You’ll be going back with your Lucario, and most likely his Banette and Lanturn companions too. They can help ground you. Use that.” She flashed her a caring smile. “It’s the people around us that keep us afloat.”

  Eira digested that piece of advice for a bit. Mulled over it. Lamented over the fact that it didn’t bring back Mother, the one person who kept her afloat her whole life. And then a tender voice made her soul do somersaults.

  “You should listen to the Vaporeon, darling. Make a few new friends while you’re at it too — God knows how either of us survived years of staving off relationships with others, and as ecstatic as I am to see you finally making some, I do believe you need human friends as well, mm?”

  Eira had her head snapped to the side, eyes the size of dinner plates and hyperfocused on the cushioned bench on the porch. Occupied. The woman sitting there could have been a lookalike for Eira herself, having the same build, shoulder-length hair, and brown eyes that she did, and with barely an inch’s difference of height between them. Only her dark skin tone set her apart, and even then, people would easily mistake her for an older sister. A modest, light blue dress with a billowing skirt covered her, a feathered sunhat on her head and a book in her lap. Her face, so similar to hers and yet more mature in appearance, stored a well of unfathomable love, beamed directly at Eira.

  Eevee jumped at the sight of her. Pretty much all the Eeveelutions did, Jolteon comically looking between the woman and Eira. Mismagius herself had her brows raised, not expecting the intrusion.

  Certainly not the person who had chosen to intrude either. “M-M-Mother?” she said in a raised voice.

  Mother rolled her eyes. “Me?” she said in unnaturally fluent Vulpix-speak. “Oh no, I’m an illusion conjured by your benevolent teacher, meant to serve as an emotional nightmare that will haunt all your dreams for the rest of eternity. Don’t worry, though, I’m rapidly gaining sentience and already have several revenge plans ready, all of which involve me taking over her body and memories for our own profit.”

  Mismagius made a strange, stony face. “She’s a raw imprint of your own mind,” she corrected.

  She knew that. Eira totally knew that, it was too obvious she was dreaming her up. She slowly, heavily breathed, a hand over her beating heart as she struggled to keep eye contact. How could it ever be her? “You’re dead,” she whispered.

  “Is this the part where I say something cliche like ‘I’ll always be alive in your heart’ or something? Or do I need to start teaching you the forbidden arts of necromancy, corpse detection, and growing gills so you can find and revive my drowned body?”

  Eira snorted despite herself, latching onto the familiar snark like it was a sacred treasure. Vaporeon and Glaceon moved aside as Mother set down her book, moving from the bench to the steps. She sat herself down next to Eira, eyes roaming over the stiff Eeveelutions and arching at Mismagius.

  Her proximity made Eira fidget and drop her gaze. “Well, now you’ve gone and done it, my little fantasy lover,” Mother said. “You’ve gone so far as to do a Tapu Lele, bringing forth the dead for one last conversation. I wonder, what would my dear daughter want to say in such a situation?”

  Things. All the things. So many things that she couldn’t fit into a handful of minutes. Eira let her hand curl around the grooved edge of the wooden step, bottled emotions threatening to spill out. Dreamed up as she was, this apparition might as well be Mother. And that tore at the mending wounds in her heart.

  Mismagius coughed. “It would be healthier to dispel your dream projection—”

  “No,” Eira blurted.

  “Let her see something of the person dearest to her heart one more time, witch,” Mother added with cool, narrowed eyes. “She needs it.”

  Her hand had shifted close to Eira’s lap. She squeezed it without thinking, feeling its warmth. “Would you trade it all away, my little shapeshifting sorcerer?” said Mother. “The ice magic, the wonder, the companionship you found? Would you leave it all behind to have me back?”

  It was an age-old question Eira had always thought about. Even without the prophecy, the Abhorrents, or the danger of being exposed as a human, how worth it was her newfound abilities? Her friends and allies? Mother was irreplaceable, after all. Her belief in that was as solid as bedrock. And yet—

  “I don’t think that’s my problem,” Eira blurted. “I-I mean, I do want you back, I badly do—”

  She paused. Mother put on an understanding smile. “Go on.”

  “I-I can move on without you. I’ve been doing that, I know I’ve been. I-It’s just that bad things keep happening, and—”

  The bottled emotions found a crack in their seal, leaking out. “And I can’t stand it!” she said in Alph. “It’s ridiculous! My entire life’s some kind of tragic fantasy tale and it’s stressing me out! Even my Vulpix instincts are messing with me and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about it!”

  Mother leaned a little closer. Eira let her head droop, resting against her shoulder, and resisted the childish urge to cry. “I just wish you could at least listen,” she mumbled. “Maybe say something to cheer me up, but maybe that’s too much to ask for? I-I just want to know you’re out there, supporting me.”

  “Would I ever stop caring for my daughter, even in death?” said Mother.

  “No.” Eira sniffed. “No, you wouldn’t.”

  Mother ran her fingers through her hair, stroking her. “When you have something to tell me, consult your heart,” she said. “I will be there to answer back — I do in fact live on in your heart, after all. Hollowed a whole space for myself there, by the way, in compliance with local zoning laws. I’ll be adding some furniture in a few days, try not to do anything strenuous then or the sofa might give you a heart attack.”

  Eira blinked several times. “Oh, and your inner voice is there too, I’ve adopted her as my second daughter,” Mother added. “She has complaints about the rent.”

  She couldn’t help herself. Eira wheezed, then let out a long, strangled laugh, her burdens melting. The others, notably Glaceon, looked in askance at whatever just happened, and made Eira laugh harder. She collapsed onto Mother’s lap, giggling like a loon, tears streaming down her face.

  Mother moved her head and wiped them away. “Does that help?”

  Somewhere deep within her hurt soul, Eira found the will to be at peace. “A-a little bit.”

  A chortle. Mother brought her onto her feet, an arm slung around her. “I do believe the real me would have affectionate words for you and your siblings,” she said to Eevee. “Your wristband was a great kindness to my little one. You especially, Glaceon, Eira could use more friends like you.”

  Glaceon rubbed her bangs. “Uh, thanks?”

  “The same goes for the Togetic and Shaymin, of course, not that they’re here. Aren’t you so lucky, my little rascal, being close friends with a genuine Mythical?” teased Mother. “Convey my gratitude to the Lucario too, he’s done a fine job caring for you, even if he feels otherwise. And Mismagius—” Mother’s eyes turned slitlike and slightly mischievous “—I’m watching you.”

  Mismagius stared back with a vacant frown. The words and behavior of her conjured Mother were all in character for her, but Eira couldn’t help but mouth an apology toward her teacher anyway.

  “Now, I better not have to make a second appearance here to lift your spirits.” Mother’s expression turned solemn as she faced Eira. “You are stronger than a silly prophecy and any hooligans that get in your way, you understand me? Did Courtney let herself falter when the Fomors ransacked the Fairy Court and turned the Feywild upside-down, with her being hunted down as a priority target of interest? Did she submit to the curses flowing in her veins, corrupting her intentions and behavior?”

  Courtney of the Fairy Court, Mother’s flagship novel series. Eira had never thought of it, but Courtney’s story did have a lot of parallels to hers, didn’t it? “No,” she quietly said.

  “Are you going to buckle, young lady? Or are you going to stand firm and fight for your right to go back home?”

  Eira side-eyed Mismagius. Eevee. Glaceon. “I’m fighting.”

  “Then do that. Fight back against the horrors of fate that tell you you can’t escape your omen, and go home. For my sake, dear Eira.”

  Anything for Mother. Eira nodded, clutching on to the order like it was a lifeline.

  Mother’s lips quirked. “And then make some friends!” she added, walking to the front door of their house. “Finish your schooling or become a trainer or whatever, but you better make some good human friends you can rely on, or I will personally escape the afterlife and make one of the Giratina themselves chastise you! And then your Lucario too, for not stopping you from being lonely!”

  She opened the door and stepped in, winking at Eira. “Mother loves you, darling.”

  The door closed. Eira stared through the wood, as if she could still see the eccentric woman behind it. Jolteon cleared her throat.

  “Your mother’s ultra rad,” she declared.

  “She was.” Eira smiled, a sad yet content smile. “I needed that.”

  A gaping gateway loomed in front of Mew. The crystalline mutant stared past it, into the deep darkness beyond. His claw flicked a Treasure Pouch hung around his neck, as if it would make him more at ease.

  Cavern earth surrounded him in every direction, a hallway of polished brick-like stone behind him. It cut off here, abruptly transitioning to this large, empty room of gray. Stalactites hung above like oversized spikes, some bearing rocky lanterns with luminous Electric Gems inside. The spikes jutted out around the gateway as well, giving it a toothy appearance. Two pillars held up the sides of the room, carved with patterns that resembled a swathe of watching eyes. It was unnerving, and rather stereotypical of a Missing One’s tastes.

  Mew found it curious. The Mistress had no such tastes. Was it humor? Irony? Or was it sheer boredom that motivated her?

  The Mistress was an odd creature, ghastly and intelligent, a force that Mew feared to antagonize. And yet, more pleasant to deal with than the rest of her ilk, though perhaps there was some bias considering their cooperation with each other. Mew rubbed his forehead, before examining the large, black crystal claws he’d been gifted with as part of his mutation.

  Their shine reflected his jagged face, eyes like stained windows. A wry expression stretched across that face.

  “You chose to loiter here? Of all places?”

  Burning air settled against his armor-like body of crystal. Places deep underground were hot, but the Mistress’s little fortress had Ice Gems and ventilation installed, for the sake of comfort. The other Altered Ones in her service were quite grateful for that. “Aerodactyl is in her chambers,” Mew replied in his metallic voice.

  “He is hardly the type of company one would wait upon.”

  “No. But I have little else to do, and I am in no mood to forge more mutagen crystals, or to stake out dungeons late in the night.” Mew tilted his head toward the source of the sudden heat, unfazed to find nothing there but a disembodied voice. “With Aerodactyl back in fighting shape, we’ll be conducting a more extensive search for Lugia’s treasures. I haven’t left you cooped up in this fortress for too long, did I, little princess?”

  He almost chuckled, imagining the little frown that must’ve formed on Bitter Rainbow the Froslass’s face. “I’m not in the mood for fatherly teasing.”

  “There are names you dislike far more that I could call you.”

  “All of which you use for grave matters. Not for amusement.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  The bitter girl let out a bitter scoff. Froslass dropped her invisibility, the fiery scarlet ghost crossing her fanlike arms in front of her as a dark, almost pleading scowl took over her face. Mew’s little smirk faded away, a moment of silence creating a void between them.

  Poor cursed child.

  “I’ll be happy to leave, no doubt. This place is too stifling for me,” Froslass said. “Too little for me to do here, though at least Lumineon and Tinkaton provide decent company. I’d certainly prefer a tedious treasure hunt for Lugia’s palace over this.”

  “You never did strike me as one to eagerly pursue the Mistress’s schemes,” Mew remarked.

  “What, should I let my issues frighten me into non-action, when her schemes serve our needs? Though I do find myself curious about the advancements that her mutation powers could gain, and how useful they will prove to be.” Froslass let out an airy sigh, slowly unfolding her arms and raising them to her face, the girl observing their fiery color. “The idea of harnessing the power of evolution for oneself, it does have quite the appeal. Why else do you think I chose to accept it, flawed as it is now?”

  A taunting look entered her eyes. “Though in your case,” she added, “your mutation is quite ideal.”

  “He cheated.”

  Mew had sensed Hyper Meteor’s presence, the electric blue Lycanroc strolling down the hallway into the large cavern room. Little volts of electricity popped throughout his fur, making him sparkle. His green eyes roamed over the pillars, having a staring contest with the mass of pupils etched on them, before snapping back to Mew.

  “Factually speaking, of course,” he tacked on. “You had a potent medium for a mutation. Had I something like an Ultranecrozium-Z myself, I’d be sorely tempted to do the same.”

  The Mythical chuckled. He was at that age where he’d seen a lot of things and dealt with a lot of things, though he wouldn’t call himself old. Middle-aged at best, having gone past a century and a half’s worth of life, but certainly more active than the typical Legendary fop. He’d gone through plenty of research experience in several different fields, and plenty of wondrous encounters. Being gifted with something as unique as a Necrozma’s own Z-Crystal was one such thing — Froslass was another, of course, and the Mistress too.

  The Mistress’s mutations were wild things, but they followed a few notable rules. Notably, the medium used to contain the mutation had a degree of influence on the actual change. A Firium-Z gave Froslass her form, for example, and an Electrium-Z gave Lycanroc his. When the Mistress made her offer, Mew had been interested in experimenting with his Ultranecrozium-Z — the gamble had been more than worth it, in his personal opinion.

  He had once asked Aerodactyl about his mutation, finding it unusual that it had turned him into a shadow monster with bone armor and Yveltal-like abilities. The tight-lipped nuisance only smiled in response.

  Lycanroc seemed almost reverent as he stared down the yawning gateway into the Mistress’s chambers. “The zealot is there?” he asked.

  “And another stands close to us,” Mew jabbed.

  A toothy smirk graced Lycanroc’s face. “I would be far more qualified for the role, I admit. You know, I’d like to imagine Lady Evolu is giving the old bag of bones a little extra chiding right now.”

  For a mistake that worked in his favor? Bah. Mew had seen her mood when he had given his report a few days ago about the Silver Wings — the idea of their goals getting a significant leap in progress had overjoyed the Mistress. Mew had seen it in her eyes, shaped like spiraling galaxies of ecstasy. It easily won over her disapproval of Aerodactyl’s reckless actions.

  Still. She had disapproved of it. The abashed look Aerodactyl had worn then, after she’d spoken to him in private, it had made Mew’s day.

  His thoughts went on pause as he caught movement from within the darkness of the passageway into the Mistress’s chambers. Red eyes glowed from within, Oblivion Matter the Aerodactyl walking out as if he owned the place. Which he did, technically, but Mew would eat his own teeth first before he’d admit to that.

  His claws clutched a dark, ooze-like blob, Mew perking a brow at the strange object. “About time,” he said. “How was—”

  “The boss has awoken! He arrives!” said Aerodactyl. “To the world revolving, be afraid!”

  Mew felt his mind faceplant into the base of a mountain. To his sides, Froslass rolled her eyes, while Lycanroc sighed and took several steps back into the hallway, ears folded. “What?”

  “The skeleton appears!”

  “Can you not—”

  “Oblivion rises from the legends of shadow, to raid and plunder! Winter is coming, and so does change!”

  “If you would kindly shut up this instant—”

  “They suspect us, but within the fortnight, they will be among us! We will be legion!”

  “Quit—”

  “Feel it, my brethren! This is where the fun begins! This land may fight us with unrivaled ferocity, but they fight like a billion lions slingshotting themselves at the sun! They will starve from hunger while we devour! They—”

  Aerodactyl darted out of reach as Mew’s fist swung through empty air and missed his windpipe, the lich cackling with mirth. Said cackles turned into yelps as Mew immediately Teleported beside him, yanking his skull with irritated force.

  “A circus.” Mew shook his head and the pounding migraine that made it throb. “You enjoy this, don’t you? You’re not just some clown, but the entire circus — one packaged in a Prison Bottle that some nitwit had the gall to open.”

  “And would that nitwit be you?” said Aerodactyl.

  Mew thought about that for a moment. Then tossed the hulking skeleton to the side. “Shut up.”

  Aerodactyl laughed again, but the Mythical managed to tune him out. Aerodactyl was such a nuisance, unbearably so at times. But all the same, a Hoopa let loose from its Prison Bottle was a Hoopa of great power. A threat.

  The mutant lich was certainly a threat, no matter how one saw it. A grizzled combatant stronger than himself, in fact, and almost as clever. Never mind what his Mistress was capable of. Had it been wise, to make the pact he made with them? To help create their mutagens in exchange for their assistance in stopping the archipelago’s total collapse?

  Ah, that age-old question. I suppose we’ll know once the gamble plays out in full.

  “The Mistress recognizes we’ll be making our departure soon. She wished to stay in contact.” Aerodactyl took on a more professional tone as he rose, offering the oozing sphere of void. Mew gingerly took it, shuddering at its cold, slimy, eldritch feel. It was malformed in shape, with shadows coating it like a second transparent, intangible layer of skin. Like a goopy hairball from the abyss.

  Froslass squinted at the horrifying object. “What is that?”

  Lycanroc and Aerodactyl cleared their throats, before locking gazes with each other. Both frowned, and as if in a truce, they spoke together in low tones:

  “Her.”

  “Her?” asked Froslass.

  “Me.”

  Shadows shifted and twisted in place. From both the gateway and the blob itself, a chorus of eldritch echoes overlapped with each other, their warped speech fulminating into an eerie, melodic, and shockingly youthful voice that wormed into Mew’s ears and through his very spirit. Froslass paled at it, and Mew felt his insides recoil, his claw trembling at the horrifying piece of a Missing One that he held.

  Aerodactyl and Lycanroc were more subdued in their reactions, their heads lowering in respect. “Lucky guess?” said Aerodactyl.

  “An educated one.” Lycanroc’s gaze lingered over the oozing shadow sphere that Mew badly wanted to throw away. “It fits with Lady Evolu’s traits.”

  He was holding a sliver of the Mistress. It almost felt like he was holding the sins he’d earned from striking a deal with the devil. Though Lady Evolu was a rather decent devil.

  “You were waiting, Primal Gear. You were seeking an audience?” At the Mistress’s words, Primal Gear grimaced. “Lugia’s treasures are your focus. You have permission to pause the mutagen experiments. With their diminishing returns, their purpose is concluded for now. I have warned Oblivion Matter already to restrain himself — he knows better.”

  Aerodactyl grunted, muttering words of loyalty to his Mistress. Mew smirked. She’d known what he wanted to request of her — truly a decent devil. Perhaps too decent. She tolerated Aerodactyl too much for her own good. Perhaps without his antics, her little experiment wouldn’t seem so foul.

  Mutation was a terrible thing, able to do vile things to those subjected to it. But Aerodactyl’s rants about perfection weren’t entirely baseless. Lycanroc too saw the mutagen’s potential, as much as he bemoaned its flaws and the ethics revolving around its use.

  Of course he does. He understands better than I the idea of fighting fire with fire.

  “I heed your words, Mistress.” Mew lowered his head, and the others followed suit. “We will not fail you.”

  “And I will not fail you, Gear.”

  A friendly devil, Mew felt, was a far better ally than the deadbeat Legendaries. He looked to Aerodactyl, wanting to see if he’d share anything more about his meeting with the Mistress, but the zealot was tight-lipped. As usual. It was becoming a habit for Mew to wish he could pry open Aerodactyl’s mind, and see what exactly went on in there. What he knew about his Mistress. What the end goal was.

  Dark-types. Aurasense could get around their immunity to mind-reading, but Aerodactyl’s aura was a nightmare to read, and the lich always guarded the deeper, darker things hidden in his metaphorical heart. He could try to read the Mistress, of course, but prying into Lady Evolu’s mind was even more ill-advisable, and not just due to respect for privacy. Mew questioned if he even could read the mind of an entity like her—

  Bah, he was lingering for too long. The shadows of the place seemed elongated to Mew, the Mythical feeling the silent gaze of the Mistress crawling down his back. “Gather our Altered One forces,” he ordered Aerodactyl, Froslass, and Lycanroc. “Anyone who can scout dungeons quickly and keep safe from explorers and townsfolk. It is high time that we expand our search for the remaining two locks that hide Lugia’s palace home, and no bounty on our heads will impede us.”

  Froslass and Lycanroc nodded, the former vanishing and the latter running off. Aerodactyl stayed in place, however, his dreamy smile full of fantasies and wonders. It was almost cult-like.

  “You know,” he purred, “I did wish you could’ve seen Rocky Shores for yourself, dear Primal Gear. How the dungeon had twisted into impossibilities, filled with unspeakable sights and creatures. You would’ve been mesmerized like never before, seeing it all.”

  Mew turned back to the gateway, his crystallized lips twitching. “I am in no mood for your gloating,” he said. “You would have caused a disaster we could not control, had that Lucario, Eevee, and Vulpix child not been there to stop you from mutating Lugia.”

  “A feral Legendary can be leashed, Mew. I know I can control him.” Aerodactyl waggled a bony finger. “And for the record, it wasn’t just them.”

  “Yes, yes, the Eevee has a most unusual and tragic situation with his siblings being—”

  “Not them. You never let me share the whole story, you know? The Lucario and Vulpix were part of an explorer team of rather special Pokemon. The rarely seen Togetic, for example. A Gabite too.” Aerodactyl smiled. “And a Shaymin.”

  Mew’s head snapped back to Aerodactyl, his neck groaning at the force. For once in his life, he found himself truly startled.

  “What?” he yelled.

  One full narration later, and Mew was cursing himself, angry beyond belief that he’d been too pigheaded to listen to Aerodactyl’s recounts of his battle with Lugia. Furious that he hadn’t bothered to check any newspapers published the day after. And yet, giddy beyond measure. The widest, most hideous smile stretched across his face, the kind that put even Aerodactyl on edge.

  “Gear?” he said.

  Mew laughed a crazed laugh, one claw delicately holding the Mistress’s oozing shadow orb, and the other clutching his face. His throat and lungs burned, yet he laughed, his teeth flashing as mania burned in his eyes. “A little punk Mythical!” he said. “Why, the thought of it! It’s ridiculous, it’s—”

  He grinned, composing himself. “It’s what I always wanted.”

  A Mythical with an actual spine. Surely she’d take a stand against him, if not her entire explorer team. And here he thought nobody would bat an eye at the world’s certain ruination.

  But she would care. She would definitely care, he felt it in his bones. And she would protest at his methods to solve it.

  Perfect.

  Malie Garden. Eira sat on a bench under a pavilion with a pagoda-style roof, overlooking the beautiful lakeside greenery. Bridges connected the land, a cafe shop in the distance bustling with several Pokemon workers and the humans and Pokemon they served. Glaceon thrust her paw toward it.

  “And thus, you’re a big liar, and Pokemon do have organized civilizations in your world,” she insisted.

  Eira sighed as Jolteon, nearby, nodded to Glaceon’s statement. “In Alola, maybe?” she conceded.

  Being more than just a tourist attraction, Malie Garden served as a settlement for the local Pokemon, who served as its caretakers and had minimal human oversight. The cafe was owned by them, in fact. Leafeon had initially questioned this, leading to a whole tangent about Alolan culture and their special closeness with Pokemon. And then the nature of the Island Trials, and how the laws allowed and even fostered Pokemon-led businesses and organizations. To Glaceon, that was basically a human-like civilization. Sort of.

  Not that Braixen would ever agree, she mulled, they’re kind of mixed in with human society after all. But I guess it counts? I never thought of it in that way.

  She’d shown Mismagius and the Eeveelutions a few places around Malie City, after her encounter with Mother — she was still riding a bit of a high from that. Her entourage had taken in all the sights with wonder and amazement, even at little things like sewer manholes, power lines, fire hydrants, and the distinct, colorful logos hung at the top of various shops.

  Most of all, the dream humans and the imagined Pokemon that roamed the streets and worked in shops, side-by-side or on their ownsome. The malasada shop alone had boggled their minds, seeing their Slurpuff chef assisting the human workers with baking and serving treats, and a table with a human and his Machoke, the latter cutting a pastry in half with a knife before pushing a piece to his trainer. A scene Eira firmly recalled seeing once, as much as Flareon and Eevee wanted to question it.

  That too made Glaceon insist that Pokemon had a sense of civilization. Not because of the street ‘mons toughing it out in the alleyways of the human city, but because a single Machoke could use a knife, and the Slurpuff could cook.

  Eira noted it down to someday obliterate her mind by showing her the Chansey in Pokemon Centers.

  “And you’re telling us you barely interact with our kind!” Jolteon smacked her out of her thoughts. “Look at this place! How do you not bump into a Pokemon at least once in this city?”

  Eira glanced toward Mismagius, resting a distance away at the crest of a hill and speaking with Eevee. The others had lied down, satisfied with their night out in physical forms and chatting amongst themselves. Leafeon had a notepad, and was diligently memorizing his many notes, afraid of forgetting anything when he woke up.

  “I’m shy?” she said.

  “Shy! Girl, you gotta make human and Pokemon friends when you get back. You could even make it a job, work as a translator for both or something — I’ll bet there’s a severe lack of people who can do that in your world!”

  Very few. Mainly telepaths, but also the infamous one-hour champion of Unova and the ‘Hero of Ideals,’ N. And considering the number of people who were stir-crazy over the reclusive man and begged him to use his gift to interpret whatever their Pokemon said, maybe she’d be better off in a different profession.

  “But until then! Since you’re clearly friendless, I hereby declare that I’m now your friend!” Jolteon leapt onto the bench, grabbing a startled Eira by the shoulders. “Be honored, human adolescent, by my most generous and non-optional offer!”

  Glaceon raised a paw. “She’s already got me, Togetic, and Shaymin as friends, you—”

  “Nope! Everyone knows you can’t be both shy and have friends, they’re mutually exclusive! You’re now cured of your shyness by the way, human, rejoice!”

  Eira turned to Glaceon, seeking help from the crazy little sister. The Glaceon threw back a flat this-is-my-life expression.

  It was almost a relief when Espeon finally called them over, stating they’d talked long enough. “Mismagius is having us leave,” she said. “Maintaining this dream exhausts her.”

  Mismagius put on a slightly frazzled expression, as if to punctuate this. “We had a wonderful time, seeing your home and all,” added Vaporeon. A slight smile touched her face. “You had a good mother, Eira. She must’ve been a lovely person, someone I would’ve liked to meet in the real world if I had the chance. I hope it proved to be a soothing experience, talking with a little remnant of her.”

  It very much had been. Dreamed up as she was, it felt so nice to have some semblance of closure with Mother. It’d been a balm to Eira’s spirit, and a source of guidance for her. Hearing her one last time, it helped her relieve herself of all her worrying and anguish. Even the horrible, horrible prophecy felt like it was just an inconvenience to swat aside, its threats of either breaking the world or herself being broken losing their edge.

  Besides, now that she thought of it, she only knew so many lines of the prophecy. How much more was there to her omen? For all I know, she mused, maybe there’s something that implies I’m not the transfigured human that doesn’t belong?

  “We’ll have to interrogate you and Lucario more about human stuff, clearly,” Eevee said. He waved his tail toward the surroundings, eyes brimming with curiosity. “This city? Quite a sight to behold — you’ve gotten my whole family bouncing questions between each other, trying to make sense of everything.”

  “I too,” Mismagius added with a little chuckle. “So many facets to modern human cities, and not enough time to explore it all! You’ve given this undying spirit a delight unlike any other, hee!” She nodded toward Glaceon. “I appreciate your work with Eira today, young Glaceon, and I hope to have your assistance again as appropriate. Now, pardon me for ending this pleasant dream here, if you will.”

  She dismissed them with a wave of her arm. Flareon rushed to speak as she did so, turning toward Eira. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you by the way, sorry,” he said, before his body faded away like dissipating mist.

  All of them faded, vanishing from the dreamscape. Eira opened her mouth in reflex, then paused as she found herself alone with Mismagius. Ah.

  “It’s fine,” she whispered to herself.

  The two of them stood on their hill, the beauty of Malie Garden laid bare before them. Brilliant green fields, shimmering ponds and lakes, and gorgeous structures like bridges and mock-pagodas that Pokemon and humans frequented. Even in a lucid dream, its beauty was captured.

  Mismagius put on an explicable face. “Your mother,” she said. “You seemed closer than I thought.”

  “Uh, yeah.” Eira managed a smile. “Talking with her was nice. Even if it’s just my own memories of her.”

  “Strong memories.”

  “Mm.”

  Whatever joy Mismagius had expressed a moment ago, it evaporated in the absence of Eevee and the others. Dreariness enveloped her in its place, the witch staring at the garden like it was drained of its colors. Eira noticed, her smile dropping at the unpleasant emotions. “She reminds me a little of when I was younger,” Mismagius muttered. “When I had children.”

  “Your children?”

  “Dead.” Mismagius spoke of it as a passing fact. “Long dead.”

  A pit formed in Eira’s stomach. She looked hard at the witch, and noticed how tired she looked. Exhausted from constant use of her Dream Eater, yes, but soulless as well. Like a shade that had run past its due course, clinging to a facade of liveliness.

  It was like staring through a mask, and finding a completely different person behind it. None of Mismagius’s whimsy was present, nor her quirks or strange behaviors. Just a weary woman with scabbed-over scars and sorrows, nestled far too deep within her. Had seeing Mother made those buried feelings resurface?

  Mismagius’s eyes seemed to reflect those sorrows, as if she was staring at history itself. “I confess,” she said, “it is rare for me to so thoroughly enjoy myself. I have had scant moments like these in my long life.”

  “How—” Eira asked, hesitantly at first. “How old are you?”

  Mismagius dipped her head. “Old. Too old. Too long.”

  She gave Eira a little pat on the shoulder, the gesture startling Eira. Then nodded, and sunk into the earth, quietly departing the dream world. Eira stared at the ground for a long time, concerned and confused.

  How long she stood there, she didn’t know. Only that a prickling feeling made her snap up, finding a pavilion far in the distance. And on its roof, a strange purple creature with strange, shiny eyes, staring her down. Lurking.

  It smiled.

  She blinked.

  The dream silently dissolved. And her mind, groggy, dismissed the sight altogether.