CHAPTER 12: THE NATURAL ORDER

Twilight painted Skystone Meadow in deepening shades of purple and blue. Illuminated Pokemon dotted the gathering space like living stars. Beetle-like Pokemon with shining carapaces and glowing faces danced intricate patterns through the air while Shroomish clusters pulsed gentle white light from their caps. The effect transformed the familiar meadow into something otherworldly.

Eleanor sat cross-legged on a woven grass mat, fidgeting with the hem of her dress. The feast spread before them on broad leaves looked like something from a fairy tale. Gleaming berries arranged in spirals, flower petals floating in crystal bowls of spring water, mushrooms that sparkled when touched. Further along the spread were stones that bore gently steaming food. Eleanor had been surprised that there were Pokemon in the Valley who cooked, but it made more sense when she noticed a pack of those striped fire-breathing dogs near the stream.

Puck hovered near her shoulder, his own glow shifting between excited pink and nervous yellow. He kept darting quick glances at Atlas, who had somehow managed to position himself directly across from them despite his slow movements. The Grubbin lounged on a cushion of moss, appearing completely at ease yet somehow radiating attentiveness through his half-lidded eyes.

All around them Pokemon gathered in small clusters, their quiet conversations creating a gentle murmur that mixed with the evening songs. The air felt charged with anticipation, though Eleanor couldn't say why. Even the Skystone seemed to hum with energy, its weathered surface catching and reflecting the bioluminescent light in strange ways.

"Try the golden berries," Atlas drawled, pushing a leaf-plate toward Eleanor with his mandible. "They taste like sunlight feels."

Eleanor's fingers twitched but she hesitated.

Atlas hadn't moved far from her all day. She'd learned that he was lazy, almost to a fault, and that his thought patterns were strange and hard to follow. But…

She slowly took a berry and popped in into her mouth, enjoying the way it seemed to melt on her tongue into tangy bits of sugary light. Atlas gave her a smile and returned to his food.

Despite how alarming it was thinking he'd tricked her, he was very kind. Puck hadn't made it easy for him, either. All afternoon Puck had buzzed angrily between them, flashing various shades of crimson and peppering Atlas with the rudest remarks.

Atlas had demonstrated a profound serenity, and Eleanor felt more confused by him the longer he stayed. Puck just seemed frustrated that Atlas wasn't rising to the bait. It'd made the meadow a tense and uncomfortable place until the community had started arriving.

Eleanor admired the feast and how it had transformed the meadow into something out of a story book. The floating lights, the strange foods, the way the evening mist caught the glow and turned it into shifting curtains of color — it all seemed too magical to be real.

A warm breeze carried the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers across the gathering. Somewhere in the darkness, a Pokemon began to sing a melody that made Eleanor's skin prickle with goosebumps. The sound wove through the quiet conversations, binding the moment together like invisible threads.

The scattered conversations died away as Lyrii bounded onto the Skystone. Her usual rapid movements slowed to something more deliberate, each step placed with care. Eleanor straightened her spine instinctively, remembering summer evenings at the powwow when the drums would quiet and an elder would step forward to speak.

Puck settled on Eleanor's shoulder, his glow dimming to match the hushed atmosphere. Even Atlas's perpetual drowsiness seemed to sharpen into alertness.

"We tell these tales," Lyrii began, her voice carrying a weight Eleanor had never heard before, "so that those who come after understand what came before."

The gathered Pokemon shifted closer, forming a tight circle around the Skystone. Eleanor noticed how the younger ones were guided to the front, just as she had been at tribal gatherings. Her mother's voice echoed in her memory. Stories are how we remember who we are.

Lyrii's tail swished once, twice, then stilled. The bioluminescent Pokemon dimmed their lights until only a soft glow remained, creating an intimate space within the darkness. Eleanor felt herself leaning forward, drawn in by the familiar rhythm of a story about to unfold.

"In the time before time," Lyrii's voice took on a musical quality as her gaze swept over her audience, "when the world was new as morning mist…"

The words settled into Eleanor's bones like an old song. She'd never heard this story before, but she knew this feeling— the sacred silence, the circle of listeners, the way even the wind seemed to pause to hear what came next. Her fingers found Puck's tiny body and she stroked him gently, wanting to feel the warmth of him with her own hands.

"Arceus walked alone through the void." Lyrii's voice resonated across the gathered circle. "Where His hooves touched nothing, something bloomed. Where His breath stirred emptiness, possibility sparked. With each step, He wove reality from dreams."

The assembled Pokemon leaned forward, their eyes reflecting the dim glow of the meadow lights. Even the stream at the edge of the meadow seemed to hush, as the world narrowed down to the story Lyrii told.

"First came the stars, scattered like seeds across the dark. Then the sun, burning bright and proud. Last came our world, cradled in Arceus's light." Lyrii's tail swished in time with her words. "But the world was empty, and Arceus's footsteps echoed in the silence. And He looked upon creation's emptiness, knowing the world was unfinished without life. So He began the final great work of reality."

Eleanor felt Puck trembling against her palm. Around them, younger Pokemon pressed closer to their elders.

"Arceus gathered the light of stars and the warmth of the sun. He breathed His own essence into the world, and this essence became Energy." Lyrii's fur crackled with tiny sparks. "The Energy danced and swirled, taking shapes both beautiful and strange. These were the first Pokemon."

A collective sigh rippled through the audience. Several of the glowing Pokemon brightened unconsciously, their light pulsing in time with the story.

"The first Pokemon held the power of creation itself. Each one of them could shape mountains, command storms, or pierce the veil between worlds. No difference existed between the smallest Caterpie and the most ancient dragon."

Atlas's eyes opened fully for the first time that evening. His usual languor seemed forgotten as he focused intently on Lyrii's words.

"These Pokemon were made in the likeness of Arceus, with the ability to shape energy in the same fashion. But they were newborns, and so, ignorant of the world around them. Power without wisdom breeds destruction. The first Pokemon reshaped lands on whims, carved new oceans for spite, and tore holes in reality itself. The world trembled under the weight of unchecked might."

Atlas shifted in the grass, his lazy demeanor replaced by an unsettling stillness.

"Mountains rose and fell like waves on water. Forests sprouted and withered in heartbeats. Day and night danced at the call of any who wished it. The world could not bear such chaos."

Lyrii's tail swished once, deliberately.

"Arceus watched as creation threatened to tear itself apart. Pokemon fought without consequence, knowing their powers would heal any wound, restore any loss. But each battle, each careless use of power, stressed the fabric of existence itself."

Eleanor wrapped her arms around herself, the warm night suddenly feeling colder. Puck pressed closer to her side.

"And so," Lyrii's voice dropped lower, "Arceus made the hardest choice any parent must make. To save creation, power had to be limited. No longer would Pokemon hold the keys to reality. Each would keep only what they needed, only what they could wisely use.

"He stripped them of their shape shifting ways, locking them forever in their current forms. In this way, it came to pass that Pokemon would only look like their forefathers and would no longer take on whichever body fit their whims.

"Then Arceus turned to the swirling Energy inside the Pokemon and He bound that too. He divided the raw potential, until it split upon many different paths. Some of those energies followed the elements of the world, and still other energies seized upon the forces of nature until each energy was different from all the others and held only a fraction of its former might.

"From this moment on Pokemon were not full of all possibilities, but contained only the potential of one, or sometimes two energies. In this way Energy Types were born.

"Many of the first Pokemon raged against these new limits. They had grown drunk on power, believing it their right to reshape reality as they pleased. But Arceus's decision was final. Pokemon forever more would be stuck in one body, and would only contain one or two energies. This decree came to be called the Withering."

The gathered Pokemon shifted uneasily. Several of the older ones looked solemn, while many of the younger ones whispered questions to their elders.

"But Arceus's heart grew heavy watching His children struggle with their diminished forms," Lyrii continued, her voice lifting. "Where once they had shaped mountains, now they could barely move stones. Where once they had commanded storms, now they could only call small rains."

Eleanor noticed several of the older Pokemon nodding, their eyes clouded with distant thoughts.

"It was then that Arceus turned His gaze to the quiet corners of the universe, seeking another answer. There, in the shadows of great works, He found humans." Lyrii's tail swished thoughtfully. "Small creatures, with no great powers of their own. Yet they did not despair at their limitations. Instead, they dreamed. They built. They imagined ways around their weaknesses."

The gathered Pokemon leaned forward, many of them exchanging meaningful glances in her direction. Eleanor shifted uncomfortably under the sudden attention and tried to focus on Lyrii. At her side, Puck's glow shifted to a curious lavender.

"Arceus watched as humans crafted tools to lift what they could not carry. He saw them build shelters against weather they could not control. Where the first Pokemon had once commanded fire, humans learned to tend it, respect it, use it wisely."

Atlas's eyes reflected the soft light of the evening as Lyrii spoke.

"And most importantly," Lyrii's voice softened, "humans understood the value of working together. They knew their own limits and sought help from others. This wisdom, this humility, this restraint, was absent from the first Pokemon in their age of power."

Eleanor felt something stir in her chest, a warmth that seemed to pulse in time with Puck's gentle glow. Around them, the night air grew thick with anticipation.

"Arceus saw in humans the very qualities His children needed to learn. And in Pokemon, He saw the power that could help humans flourish. Two halves of a greater whole, each possessing what the other lacked."

The Skystone seemed to hum beneath her, its ancient surface catching starlight in new ways. Eleanor's hand found Puck's tiny form, and she felt their bond pulse between them like a second heartbeat.

"And so it was," Lyrii continued, her voice taking on a rhythmic quality, "that Arceus forged a path forward, one for the weak Humans and His naive children. He wove the first bonds between them, like weaving two different threads to make stronger rope. From that moment forward, their fates would be intertwined."

Eleanor felt Puck's warmth against her palm as Lyrii explained.

"The bond itself," Lyrii's tail swished thoughtfully, "became a bridge between two different kinds of strength. Where Pokemon had raw power, humans had precision. Where humans had innovation, Pokemon had instinct. Together, they could achieve what neither could alone."

Eleanor's hand drifted to her chest, where she could feel her bond with Puck thrumming softly. A God had created this? She looked down at Puck by her side, considering him in a new light.

She thought about how his ability to fly had saved her from drowning, while her problem-solving had helped them build their fishing system. Neither could have succeeded alone.

"But the greatest gift of the bond," Lyrii's eyes met Eleanor's, "was how it stopped the Withering. Arceus saw how these first Pokemon indulged in sinful pride. He knew that many would not trust the weaker humans without reason, and so He gave them a reason. Arceus made His decree: 'No Pokemon shall understand the boundaries of their might, except through this connection'."

Atlas nodded slowly, his usually sleepy eyes now fully open and alert.

"These bonds are not chains," Lyrii's voice grew firm. "They are choices, made freely by both sides. Like two streams choosing to flow together, becoming a mighty river. And so it has been, from the dawn of creation, and so it will be until the world is born anew; Pokemon may only reach their full potential through the True Bond."

Lyrii's final words hung in the night air. The gathered Pokemon remained still, as if afraid to break the spell her tale had woven. Even the luminescent Pokemon held their glow steady, creating a tableau of frozen light and shadow.

Eleanor's fingers traced absent patterns in the grass as she processed the weight of what she'd learned. The bond that pulsed between her and Puck wasn't just friendship or circumstance. It was divine design. She thought of how naturally they'd complemented each other from the start, how their different strengths had kept them alive.

"Is that why—" she whispered to Puck, but stopped. Around them, other Pokemon were beginning similar quiet conversations, their voices barely rising above breath.

Atlas shifted in his spot, mandibles working thoughtfully.

"The universe provides what we need," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "Even limits are gifts, when viewed with the right eyes."

The older Pokemon began to move first, gathering their young ones with gentle nudges and whispered words. They departed in small groups, their movements careful and deliberate, as if carrying something precious they feared might spill.

Puck's glow shifted through several colors before settling on a deep purple Eleanor had never seen before. His tiny weight pressed against her palm, somehow feeling more significant than ever.

The night breeze stirred the grass, carrying away the last echoes of Lyrii's voice. One by one, the bioluminescent Pokemon dimmed their lights, returning the meadow to its natural state of starlit darkness. The Skystone's surface caught the starlight differently now, or perhaps Eleanor was simply seeing it with new understanding.

Eleanor sat quietly, letting the implications settle into her bones like the evening dew gathering on the grass around her. Each breath felt weighted with new meaning, each pulse of her bond with Puck resonating with deeper significance.

Slowly the meadow emptied until only Lyrii and a few elders remained, conversing quietly near the Skystone. Lyrii caught Eleanor's eye and beckoned her over. Eleanor rose and began to walk slowly, carrying Puck in front of her like a torch. Behind her she heard the shuffling sounds of Atlas following.

Eleanor felt the weight of the collective gaze of the elders and tried not to fidget. It felt like she was being summoned to the principal's office. When they arrived, Lyrii smiled widely at Eleanor.

"Well? What did you think? No, I mean feel. No! I mean think after all!" The chatterbox of a squirrel seemed like her normal self again, now that the ceremony was over. It made Eleanor relax ever so slightly.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The old Noctowl who'd taken Eleanor's oath stepped forward.

"You have questions." His eyes seemed to look right through her.

Eleanor nodded, but it was Puck who spoke first.

"So humans were like... teachers?" Puck's bell-like voice wavered with uncertainty.

"More like mirrors," a blue bird that looked like a pelican answered. "Arceus saw in humans the potential Pokemon had lost in their abundance of power. And so came the greatest irony of all — those with the least power possessed the greatest wisdom in how to wield it."

Eleanor felt the weight of everyone's eyes upon her, their gazes carrying thoughts she was only beginning to grasp. She thought of her father's careful astronomical calculations, her mother's patient lessons about plant identification. About the things each parent loved, the things each parent chose to devote their lives to. Simple things, really.

Human things.

Puck's glow shifted between pink and yellow, his confusion evident.

"But then why—"

"Because," Lyrii raised a paw, "wisdom without power is as dangerous as power without wisdom. Balance was needed."

Puck twitched against Eleanor.

"The river…"

Eleanor looked over at him, but he seemed frozen in deep thought.

"Eleanor fell in a river once and I was so desperate to help her that I created silk for the very first time. I'd never done anything like that before. I didn't even know I could until she needed help and I just…did it."

"Precisely." Lyrii's whiskers twitched. "Each bond is unique, shaped by what both beings bring to it. Some are formed through battles, others through friendship, and the rarest—" she glanced at Eleanor and Puck, "—through pure spirit."

Eleanor touched the spot in her chest where she could feel her connection to Puck.

"That's what happened in the forest, isn't it? When I promised to take Puck with me? We were lost and alone, then all of the sudden there was a golden light all around us. Ever since I've been able to feel—" Her thought went unfinished, as she touched her chest where the bond thrummed.

"A promise made from the heart, witnessed by powers older than time itself." The Noctowl said somberly. "Such bonds outstrip any bonds forged by the metal balls men carry now."

"How do you form Bonds, though? I'm not really even sure what we did to make it happen, it just…happened," Eleanor confessed.

"There are several ways that a True Bond can manifest, but they all start the same. To Bond with one another, a Pokemon and a Human have to form a lasting connection. The easiest and most common way to do this is by adopting a new name or title that will be used within the Bond." A tall Toxtricity answered in a deep baritone.

"When my Dad and my Mom got married, she took his last name." Everyone turned to listen as Eleanor spoke. All this talk of names had her thinking of Earthly traditions. The 'naming' part of bonding actually sounded familiar, in some ways. "In some of the tribes in my country, when you turned into a grown up you stopped using the name you used as a child, and you get a new name. Most people called this new name a 'Deed Name'. Having a Deed Name showed the rest of the tribe you were an adult."

Lyrii looked intrigued, the way she always did when Eleanor shared facts about Earth.

"So you're familiar with the concept, then? The first step in forming a True Bond," the pelican explained, her words tumbling out like water over stones, "often begins when either a human or a Pokemon name each other. The name acts like a seed planted in fertile soil, taking root in both hearts. For the Pokemon, it's largely ceremonial. But Bonds require human will to be formed. It cannot become a True Bond without the human willing it to be so. It was discovered a long time ago that this 'naming' ritual often helped the human's focus, making the Bond solidify much faster than it did without one."

Eleanor's fingers curled into a fist. She glanced at Atlas, who maintained his usual placid expression. Will? Intention? She didn't really understand. Had she had those things when she bonded with Puck?

This all sounded so complicated. Eleanor felt too embarrassed to keep interrupting with the same questions, so she stewed in silence as her confusion grew.

"The second step requires shared purpose — like two streams joining to form a river. Both Pokemon and human must choose to walk the same path, even if only for a time. This is most often done by living together, and spending time around one another." The Toxtricity crackled with stray sparks as he spoke. "This strengthens the connection that sprouted from the naming."

"And the third step?" Puck's glow shifted to an anxious yellow.

"The third step is the most important." Lyrii's voice took on a formal cadence once more. "A promise must be made and sealed with contact — hand to fur, skin to scale, or whatever forms they possess. Like lightning meeting earth, this creates the True Bond."

Eleanor felt the blood drain from her face. With growing horror she'd been following along with all the steps, mentally ticking each box with Atlas until none remained. Did that mean?…

"What if... what if someone accidentally completed these steps?"

"Accidentally?"

The whole circle seemed to collectively pause. Eleanor felt several gazes pin her with their intensity, and she wanted to crawl under a rock and hide.

"I named Atlas." Eleanor raised a finger to count along with each step. "Then we stayed at the meadow together while Puck went to go get help. And before that I touched him when I helped him get unstuck." Eleanor's voice grew smaller with each admission.

"You did trick her!" Puck's glow flared bright red.

Atlas blinked at them all lethargically.

"The universe provides," Atlas drawled. "I merely accepted its gifts."

Lyrii bounded between them.

"Peace! Peace. Both of you, remember your oaths." Lyrii looked between the two Pokemon severely, cheeks lighting up with electric blue sparks. When Puck settled, she turned to Eleanor and continued with an air of strained patience.

"True Bonds don't form that quickly. What you began with Atlas can still be undone; it's nothing like the Bond you share with Puck. As long as you live, you and Puck will continue to be linked in this way."

She gestured at Eleanor's chest.

Eleanor pressed a hand to her heart, searching for that warm spot where she felt Puck. She found it easily, bright and strong. But try as she might, she couldn't feel any connection to Atlas.

Her anxiety released its chokehold, but didn't disappear. Atlas…he'd known about these things, she was sure of it. Her emotions were a tangled mess, her thoughts and feelings churning in a bewildering storm.

"Not all Bonds manifest the same way, but they all require time to solidify. If you or Cler— Atlas decide to end this, it's not too late. You have plenty of time to talk, and decide together what to do next." The Noctowl explained.

Puck's glow shifted rapidly between crimson anger and yellow anxiety, casting strange shadows across their gathering. He darted back and forth between Eleanor and Atlas like an agitated hummingbird, his wings a blur of motion. The constant color changes made Eleanor's head swim.

Her chest felt tight, as if the air had grown too thick to breathe properly. On one side, Puck's frantic movements and fluctuating emotions pressed against her through their bond. On the other, Atlas's unblinking stare and absolute stillness created an equally overwhelming presence.

The Elders' words about bonds and promises echoed in Eleanor's mind, mixing with the pulse of Puck's distress until she could barely think straight. Her fingers curled against her palm, seeking something solid to anchor herself.

Atlas hadn't moved a muscle since the conversation began. He remained perfectly still, watching the scene unfold with half-lidded eyes that somehow managed to convey both complete disinterest and careful attention. His calm felt like a weight, heavy and immovable.

The pressure built until Eleanor's shoulders hunched forward. Puck's glow flashed between colors faster now — red-yellow-red-yellow — matching the rapid beat of her heart. His wing movements created a high-pitched whine that set her teeth on edge.

"I need..." Eleanor's voice cracked. She swallowed hard and tried again. "I need some time alone."

She turned and walked back to her small house in the dark, legs shaking slightly. No one spoke as she left.

Behind her Puck's distressed light show strobed on, and Atlas's steady gaze lingered.

Silence fell over the Skystone like a heavy blanket. The night had grown soft and quiet, a clear sky above lighting the gathering below. The moon hung above like a silver lamp, free from clouds to soften its luminous march across the sky. Atlas shifted his weight, causing tiny scratching sounds against the ancient ground.

Slowly the elders began leaving, until only the Noctowl and Lyrii remained with them.

"The universe has its ways of sorting these things out," Atlas mused, his voice carrying an unsettling certainty. "Eleanor understands more than she knows."

"What are you saying?" Puck's glow intensified to a dangerous crimson.

"Only that she's got hidden depths. I recognized it from the first time she spoke. She's special." Atlas's eyes remained half-closed, but something sharp lurked in their depths. "The Valley recognized something in her, too. Why else do you think the Sisters let her pass?"

Pink sparks began to dance between Puck's antennae. His wings hummed at a pitch that made Lyrii's fur stand on end.

"You don't know anything about Eleanor!"

"I know she's been burdened by a profound destiny. I know she'll need help. I know I'd like to be that help." Atlas's calm delivery made the words land like punches. "And I know you're afraid of it all, the things moving behind the veil that you can't see."

The air grew thick with an electric charge. Puck's outline began to blur, his Energy leaking out in waves of barely contained fury.

"Enough!" The Noctowl's voice boomed across the clearing, startling nesting birds from the surrounding trees, but Puck and Atlas were locked in a battle that drowned out the Elder's warning.

"She's just a lost child trying to find her way home!" Puck's voice crackled with emotion.

"Is she?" Atlas's question hung in the air. "Or is she exactly where she's meant to be?"

The pink and red Energy around Puck surged, making the Skystone hum with sympathetic vibrations. Motes of light began to swirl around Puck's form as his control slipped further.

The Noctowl looked poised to intervene.

Puck couldn't begin to care about his oath not to fight in the Valley, not now. He'd never felt anger like this before in all his memory. Eleanor meant everything to him. Who was this interloper, who meant to deceive and hurt his partner?

"You don't get to decide what she wants!" Puck roared. Puck's wings were nearly invisible now, moving so fast they created a keening sound that seemed to vibrate off the very air.

Atlas finally opened his eyes fully, revealing uncanny perception in their black depths.

"Neither do you."

The tension burst.

Slowly, in measures of waning light, Puck seemed to drain away, and shrink before everyone's eyes. The Energy he'd been gathering dissipated and the atmosphere grew light without the heavy pressure of his anger.

Puck drifted down to settle on the Skystone, every part of him drooping into a morose, navy blue puddle. The Noctowl looked uncomfortable at the emotional display, but Lyrii sprung onto the Skystone at once, creeping over towards the young fairy.

"You act like you know so much about her, but you only just met her." Puck sounded wretched, his voice a small whine.

"How long did you know her before you chose her?" Atlas seemed to gaze right through him.

Puck looked away, ashamed.

"She's mine. I had her first." Puck's voice was tiny and trembling now. Lyrii wrapped a comforting arm around his little form.

Atlas moved for the first time since he'd arrived at their gathering.

He wiggled forward, slowly and deliberately, each awkward movement sending jiggling waves across his grub-like form, until he'd heaved himself up onto the Skystone as well. With effort he squirmed the last few inches until he rested a mandible gently against Puck's foot.

"Puck, what makes you think I'm only picking Eleanor?"

Puck looked struck dumb, his little stinger of a mouth twitching up and down but producing no sounds. Lyrii and the elder both let out soft sounds of surprise.

Atlas chortled, eyes nearly closing in mirth.

"I choose you too, Puck. I choose you too."

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Soft songs carried on the wind as it blew through Skystone Meadow, a steady heartbeat in the deep night. In the distance, a nocturnal chorus of cricket song and hooting owls joined together to sing about the moon, watchful guardian of the night sky.

Dew pearled on blades of grass, catching Puck's shifting glow and scattering it across the ground in patches of worried purple. The silk structure that sheltered Eleanor sat dark and silent at the meadow's edge, its entrance sealed against the night air.

Atlas sprawled in the wet grass, his skin glossy with moisture. He hadn't moved in hours, content to let the night wash over him in waves of gentle rhythm. His eyes stayed half-lidded, focused on nothing and everything.

Puck drifted between Atlas and Eleanor's shelter, unable to settle. His light cast long shadows that danced across the meadow with each pass. The distance to Eleanor's door seemed to stretch wider with each circuit, though he knew it hadn't moved.

"The crickets never sang like this in the weald," Puck muttered, more to himself than Atlas. His glow deepened to a darker purple, reflecting his unease.

"Mmm." Atlas didn't shift his position. "Valley crickets. Different song entirely."

Puck's wings hummed faster, sending ripples through the dewy grass below.

"I should check on her."

"She's trying to sleep." Atlas's voice carried the same dreamy contentment it always seemed to. "Like you should be."

The cricket song grew looser, the words lost until only the melody remained. It swelled between them, filling the space where Puck's restless movement paused. His glow cast strange patterns across Atlas's body as he hovered, caught between staying and going.

"What if she needs me?"

"She'll call." Atlas's eyes drifted fully closed. "The bond works both ways, remember?"

Puck's light flickered between purple and blue, uncertainty bleeding into sadness. The fabric shelter remained dark and still, separated from them by what felt like miles of moonlit grass.

Puck's glow shifted to a deep blue as a wave of emotion washed through the bond.

"She's crying again."

"Mmhmm." Atlas rolled onto his back, dewdrops sliding off his sides. He stretched in a way that thrust his considerable belly towards the night sky. "Processing big emotions. Important work, that."

"But she's hurting." Puck drifted lower, nearly touching the grass.

Atlas wiggled deeper into his spot, getting comfortable.

"Pain shapes us. Like water shapes stone. Smooth edges come from rough times."

"That doesn't help." Puck's color flickered between worried purple and frustrated red.

"Not meant to help." Atlas yawned, mandibles clicking. "Meant to understand. Different thing entirely."

Another surge of emotion rippled through the bond, and Puck's light dimmed to midnight blue.

"I think she misses home. She used to have nightmares those first few weeks. She woke up crying for her mother a lot." Puck sounded wretched, as if he was experiencing the pains he was describing firsthand.

"Natural as breathing." Atlas shifted his weight, tiny limbs akimbo in a decadent display of relaxation. "Missing means loving. Loving means hurting sometimes."

"I wish..." Puck's voice trailed off as his glow pulsed with uncertainty.

"Careful with wishes." Atlas's eyes cracked open, reflecting starlight. "Universe has a funny way of granting them sideways."

"You sound like you know something about that."

"Know something about everything." Atlas chuckled, a low bubbling sound. "Also nothing about anything. Depends on the day."

"That doesn't make any sense." Puck looked mildly offended by that.

"Makes perfect sense." Atlas rolled onto his side, presenting his ridged back to the cool night air. "Just not the kind you're looking for right now."

Through their bond, Eleanor's grief ebbed like a tide pulling back from shore. Puck's glow steadied to a gentle pink tinged with blue.

"There." Atlas nodded sagely, noting his change in color. "See? Waves come, waves go. Your Eleanor's strong as the ocean. Just needs time to find her rhythm."

The crickets fell silent.

Atlas's eyes snapped open, all traces of dreamy contentment vanishing. His body went still, mandibles clicking in a rapid warning pattern.

"Puck." His voice carried across the suddenly still meadow. "Come here."

Puck's glow dimmed to wan green as shapes emerged from the darkness. They drifted like petals on a nonexistent breeze, their movements too precise, too coordinated. The air grew thick with the scent of night-blooming flowers and decay.

Three Kirlia stepped out from the forest, moving in perfect synchronization. Their crystalline voices rang out in harmony, beautiful and wrong, like wind chimes in a dead calm.

"Little star-child," they sang, circling closer to the meadow. "Born of light and wishes."

Puck backed away, wings beating frantically. His terror pulsed through the bond, but Eleanor slept on, trapped in whatever dreams held her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His voice cracked.

"We've watched you since you arrived." The Kirlia tilted their heads at identical angles, their smiles too wide, too knowing. "Such an interesting little thing, falling from nowhere into somewhere."

"Stay back." Puck's glow flickered between yellow and red.

"We could show you wonders." They moved closer, their steps a perfect waltz.

Behind them other figures began to emerge from the trees; figures with pink faces and ears that curved like horns. Their black hair fell in curtains that obscured their evil grins. Still more, with glowing mushroom caps and floating bodies that looked like whipped confections, until the dark cover of the woods was lit by hundreds of soft, pastel hues.

Whispers carried, and voices tittered in a twisted reflection of the meadow's earlier gathering. During the feast Puck had felt safe surrounded by the community and Elders, but these Pokemon felt all wrong. Their eyes pinned him in place until he felt like someone were running their fingers the wrong way through his fur.

Puck felt frozen, unable to move but desperate to be further away from them.

He'd seen these Pokemon before.

They'd been hiding just beyond sight, on the first day he and Eleanor had been exploring the Valley. He'd watched them in their secret spots amidst their strange trees, an audience of glowing eyes and piercing gazes. There had been something so wrong and yet so familiar about that dark and colorful forest.

It had unsettled Puck in a way he couldn't begin to describe.

He didn't know who these Pokemon were, but everything in his being screamed that they weren't safe. That day he'd begged Eleanor to leave. It had been the one and only time he'd felt in danger since arriving in the Valley.

He felt it again, looking out at the gathering crowd.

A brush against one of his dangling feet made him scream. He looked down, heart racing out of his chest, to see Atlas had crawled over to stand beside him. Puck tried to take deep breaths and calm his thundering heart, while their audience tittered with giggles.

Atlas wasn't looking at him. He seemed to be fixed upon the three Kirlia. Puck turned back to the interlopers, feeling the smallest bit better at the reminder he wasn't alone. He hovered a bit nearer to Atlas's comforting bulk.

"W-w-what do you want?" Puck had been aiming for firm, but it came out more of a squeak.

Beside him, Atlas huffed.

"To teach you truths about yourself. Truths that even the human doesn't know." The Kirlia had stopped at the edge of the grass, just under the canopy of oak trees. The moon above marked a clear boundary of safety and Puck was pathetically grateful for its light.

"The Court of Stars misses its children," they sang in eerie unison. "Won't you dance with us?"

Atlas shifted his bulk between Puck and the Kirlia.

"My friend declines your invitation."

The Kirlia's smiles never wavered.

"For now," they chimed. "But the dance calls all who belong to it."

They retreated as one, their movements liquid smooth, impossible. Their voices carried back across the meadow.

"We'll wait, star-child. The Court always claims its own."

Within seconds they were gone.

"Interesting that they waited until Eleanor slept to make their move." Atlas watched the shadows of the empty woods, his expression unreadable.

"What just happened?" Puck's glow stabilized to a worried purple.

"A test. Or an invitation." Atlas rolled onto his side, appearing casual despite his alert eyes scanning the tree line. "Hard to say with the Fair Folk. They love their riddles and games."

"You called me a 'friend.'" Puck drifted lower, hovering just above Atlas's head. "You made it sound like…like you cared."

"Words have power." Atlas stretched, mandibles clicking softly. "Better to be certain than confused when dealing with their kind."

A lone cricket chirped tentatively in the distance, testing the night's safety. After a moment, another answered.

"But what did they mean about stars and courts?"

"Questions for another time." Atlas settled deeper into the grass. "Sometimes knowing too much too fast brings attention we don't want."

The meadow's usual nighttime chorus slowly resumed, though muted compared to its earlier vibrancy. Puck's glow shifted between worried purple and confused pink.

"Should we tell Eleanor?"

"Up to you." Atlas yawned, the picture of contentment despite his watchful gaze. "Let her rest tonight, at least. Sometimes sleep is the best protection. Other times, it's ignorance."

A gentle breeze stirred the grass, carrying away the last traces of the fairies' sweet-rot perfume. Puck landed beside Atlas, his wings finally stilling.

"Thank you. For standing up for me."

"Mm." Atlas bumped against Puck's tiny form. "The universe provides what we need, when we need it. Tonight, it decided to provide a friend."

Puck shivered, eyes drifting closed. "Good night, Atlas."

"G'night, Puck."