CHAPTER 13: A HOLLOW KINGDOM

It was the first morning Eleanor had woken to grass that was dry, the morning dew being too weak to withstand the brilliant sunshine. Spring in the Valley was slowly shifting, a hint of the hot Summer to come.

Eleanor reveled in it.

She hadn't woken up to warmth since she'd been living in the wilds. The morning sun felt strong, and she wore a lighter dress than she'd dared in some time. She started humming softly as she knelt in the grass, preparing breakfast.

Eleanor arranged their meal of berries on broad leaves that often served as plates (and in Atlas' case, also served as an after meal snack). She sorted berries by size and color, a habit she'd picked up since arriving in the Valley. Her fingers traced idle patterns in the condensation on each fruit while she gathered her thoughts.

Atlas lounged nearby, mandibles working lazily on a particularly juicy berry. Sticky juice dripped down his chin as he hummed with contentment.

Puck dozed on a branch overhead, his soft snores mixing with birdsong.

Eleanor cleared her throat.

"Atlas?"

"Mmm?" He rolled onto his side, somehow managing to look completely at ease while still maintaining eye contact.

"I've been thinking." She adjusted a berry that had rolled out of place. "About bonds."

"Heavy thoughts for breakfast." Atlas's tone remained light, though his tiny stubs for legs twitched with interest.

"Well, if we were to form one..." Eleanor traced the edge of a leaf. "What would you need from me?"

"Need?" Atlas chewed thoughtfully on another berry. "The universe provides what it will. Expectations on others just lead to disappointment."

"But you must want something from it." Eleanor pressed, keeping her voice gentle. "Or else why would you have tricked me?"

It had been a few mornings since the gathering where Lyrii had shared the legends surrounding bonds. Plenty of time for Eleanor and Puck to be around Atlas and get to know him better. One thing was abundantly clear: He didn't do anything that required effort without meaning to.

Imposing on Eleanor by leading her into naming him hadn't been an accident. He had outright refused to be called anything except 'Atlas' ever since. His actions proved his sincerity, but she still couldn't figure out what was motivating him.

"Want and need are different things entirely." Atlas stretched, his movements slow and deliberate. "Though I suppose if we're speaking of wants..."

He settled back into a comfortable position, mandibles clicking softly as he considered his words. Despite his relaxed posture, there was something old in his gaze that made Eleanor lean forward slightly.

"What I want," he said, "is exactly what I have right now: Good food, pleasant company, and the freedom to enjoy both."

"But you could have all those things without a bond." Eleanor felt a bit frustrated. Was he being obtuse on purpose?

"I didn't want them without one, though. Realized it as soon as I saw you. I saw, then I wanted."

She exchanged a worried glance with Puck, who had stirred from his branch sometime during their talk.

"But bonds are serious," Puck drifted down to hover near Eleanor's shoulder. "They change everything. Lyrii said that Arceus even made up rules about them. It doesn't seem like something casual, Atlas."

"Doesn't it?" Atlas rolled onto his back, legs curled contentedly. "Here you both are weeks after yours and the sun still rises. Berries still grow. The universe continues its dance. Doesn't seem that serious from where I'm laying."

"What about the commitment though?" Eleanor's fingers twisted in her lap. "The responsibility? Lyrii said that me and Puck would feel each other for the rest of our lives. The rest of your life would involve me, Atlas."

"Mmm." Atlas considered this, chewing thoughtfully on a bit of his leaf plate. "Tell me— did you and Puck plan your bond?"

"Well, no, but—"

"And has that made it less real? Less meaningful?"

"That was different." Puck's wings buzzed with nervous energy. "We were alone, scared—"

"And now we're here, safe and well-fed." Atlas gestured vaguely with one tiny leg. "Perhaps that's exactly when such choices matter most. When they come from peace rather than fear."

Eleanor frowned. "I don't understand."

"Think of it like..." Atlas paused, then pointed to a nearby flower. "See how that bloom faces the sun? It didn't plan to. Didn't worry about the proper way to grow. It simply followed its nature."

"We're not flowers," Puck protested.

"No," Atlas agreed, "we're much more interesting than that. But the principle remains. Some things don't need planning. They just need to be allowed to happen."

"But what if it goes wrong?" Eleanor asked.

"What if it goes right?" Atlas's eyes crinkled with gentle amusement. "What if worry is the only thing making it complicated?"

Eleanor's hands trembled as she arranged and rearranged the berries, unable to meet Atlas's steady gaze. Her throat felt tight.

"I could make you promises," Atlas said kindly, rolling onto his feet. "Any promise you need to hear. I've made up my mind, Eleanor. If it's constancy you need, I'll provide it."

Eleanor's fingers stilled on a particularly dark berry. The weight of Atlas's offer pressed against her chest, making it hard to breathe. Such simple words, yet they held such power — the power to bind, to trust, to believe.

"I..." She swallowed hard. "Someday…someday I might go back to where I came from, and it might change your idea of forever. I think before any promises, you should know my story. The whole story."

Atlas shifted, pulling himself up to sit properly. It was the first truly serious posture she'd seen from him. The casual contentment drained from his features, replaced by quiet attention.

"Not just the Sisters and how I passed the trials," Eleanor continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything. About waking up in the mansion. About the men who chased us. About..." She took a shaky breath. "About my Dad."

Puck drifted down to rest on her shoulder, his warmth a steady comfort against her neck. His presence gave her strength to look up and meet Atlas's gaze.

"It's not a happy story," she warned.

"The best ones rarely start that way." Atlas settled himself more comfortably, his usual languor replaced by an intent focus that transformed his entire bearing. "I'm listening."

The morning air seemed to still around them. Even the birdsong felt distant now, muted by the weight of the moment.

Eleanor drew another steadying breath and reached for Puck's familiar presence through their bond. "It began when I woke up in an empty house..."

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Atlas's mandibles made quick work of the fallen branches. Each snap, snap, snap sounded crisp and clean in the late morning air. Eleanor gathered the pieces into neat piles, her movements falling into an easy rhythm with his work. Above them, Puck darted between sunbeams, his glow shifting to match the dappled light filtering through the leaves.

Eleanor had finished her story and expected some kind of decision to be made. Atlas seemed good at surprising her, if nothing else.

He'd been the perfect audience, quietly paying attention to every word. He'd never interrupted. When she'd pause for breath, he'd sometimes ask thoughtful questions to help the story along.

When Eleanor had finished, she'd braced herself. For what? She couldn't say, but it felt very vulnerable to have told the whole story to someone.

Her and Puck had explained their tale to Lyrii when they'd first arrived in the Valley, but they hadn't told her every horrible detail about what living in the weald had been like.

She left out nothing in her story for Atlas. She told him about nightmares, about struggles and hunger and embarrassing mistakes. Once she started confessing it all, she found the release of it necessary, like lancing a festering wound. The grim tale poured out of her in all its unflattering detail until she had no secrets left.

Still, Atlas remained watchful, listening.

Her last words died and silence stretched until Eleanor felt nervous.

Atlas finally thanked them politely and said that everyone should take the rest of the day to reflect.

Then he'd started doing the morning chores.

It was surprisingly good advice. It helped to have something to do with her hands, and Eleanor felt better already. But now that they'd all fallen into the rhythm of the chores and she had time to think, her mind began to wander.

Eleanor was worried Atlas had changed his mind after learning she was from another world. The disappointment at that idea made her pause.

Had she really started to like him that much in just a few days?

Her emotions and thoughts seemed to zip around her brain until she felt muddled and confused.

"That's perfect," Puck chimed, breaking her out of her thoughts. "Stack them by size — we can use the bigger ones for the new shelter frame."

Eleanor wiped sweat from her forehead, pleased with their progress. The meadow was slowly transforming under their combined efforts. Atlas tackled each task with surprising efficiency despite his laid-back nature, while Puck's enthusiasm kept their spirits high.

"The universe provides exactly what we need," Atlas groaned between bites of wood. "Including manual labor."

Puck giggled at Atlas's expression and Eleanor smiled, watching the two of them.

Warm sunlight bathed the clearing as they worked, carrying the sweet scent of wildflowers. Eleanor's arms had grown stronger from days of similar tasks, and she found comfort in the steady routine they'd developed. Puck's wings hummed a gentle counterpoint to Atlas's methodical breaking of branches.

A heavy set of footsteps interrupted their peaceful rhythm.

The sound echoed through the meadow, growing nearer and nearer. Eleanor froze mid-stack, her arms full of branches. Atlas stopped chewing. Puck's glow dimmed to a worried flicker.

A massive form emerged from the tree line — a snapping turtle, its shell gleaming like polished stone in the morning light. A large, bright crest grew in a prominent ridge down its face. Its lower jaw looked less like a turtle beak and more like the angry, steel jaws of a bear trap. The turtle's presence filled the clearing with an immediate tension that pressed against Eleanor's chest.

It looked around the clearing, before resting its considerable gaze upon Eleanor pointedly.

Eleanor dropped her bundle of sticks, sending them clattering across the ground. Her heart hammered against her ribs as the massive turtle fixed them with an unwavering stare.

"You're late." The turtle's voice rumbled through the clearing.

"Late?" Puck's wings stuttered mid-flight. "Late? Late for what?" He turned to Eleanor, reminding her of the White Rabbit from Alice and Wonderland. "Are we late for something, Eleanor?"

"The waterfall? Your meeting?" The turtle's head tilted. "The one you arranged with Felrin last week?"

Eleanor's face flushed hot as the memory crashed back.

A week ago they'd set out on their exploration of the Valley and stumbled upon a talking fish in the waterfall pool. It had made them promise to come back and help him. Her hands twisted in her dress.

"Oh, I completely forgot—"

"Been quite the day," Puck darted down to hover by Eleanor's shoulder. "You see, we had this whole thing with Atlas here—"

"Atlas?" Its gaze shifted to the Grubbin, who had settled comfortably in a patch of sunlight.

"That would be me." Atlas yawned, mandibles clicking lazily. "Just joined the family today. Well, technically a couple of days ago. And this morning, sort of." He waved a tiny arm stub in an almost sarcastic manner. "The universe is a complicated place."

"Ah. A new bond." The turtle's expression softened slightly. "That explains much." He turned back to Eleanor and Puck. "Still, promises must be kept."

"We're so sorry," Eleanor stepped forward, shoulders squared despite her embarrassment. "We got caught up in everything and—"

"And now we'll head straight to the pool," Puck finished, his glow shifting to match Eleanor's flushed cheeks.

"The universe will wait," Atlas called from his sunny spot. "Or won't. Either way, it all works out."

Eleanor bit her lip to hold back a nervous laugh. Trust Atlas to be completely unbothered by the tension.

Eleanor slung her woven silk pack over her shoulder, fingers automatically checking the knots that held it together. The familiar weight settled against her hip as she patted down her dress, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything important.

Atlas took his time extracting himself from his sunny patch, each movement deliberate and unhurried. His mandibles clicked together in what might have been a yawn.

Puck darted between them, his pink glow brightening as he helped gather Eleanor's scattered tools. He tucked a fallen rock she often used as a hammer into her belt, adjusted the strap of her pack, and buzzed around Atlas with encouraging sounds.

The scattered branches from their interrupted work lay across the meadow grass like abandoned pickup sticks. Eleanor's hands itched to finish organizing them, but the turtle's presence made it clear their morning plans had changed.

"Ready?" His gravelly voice carried across the clearing.

Eleanor nodded, falling into step beside the massive Pokemon. Puck settled on her shoulder, while Atlas brought up the rear at his own measured pace. The morning sun warmed their backs as they left Skystone Meadow behind, their unfinished work a reminder that life in the Valley moved at its own pace.

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Mist clung to Eleanor's ankles as they approached the waterfall pool, each step bringing them closer to the ethereal glow that pulsed beneath the cascade's surface. The water's endless roar filled the air, drowning out the forest sounds behind them.

"Quite the gathering ahead." Atlas paused to shake droplets from his face.

Through the trees ahead Eleanor began to catch glimpses of the crystalline depths, its shoreline dotted with dozens of shapes. The closer she walked the more she saw that a teeming mass of Pokemon had gathered there, not just on shore but beneath the surface as well; sleek bodies twisting through underwater currents, fins catching light like stained glass. Near the center, larger forms hovered in formation around a central figure she recognized.

The large blue fish with the glowing antennae sprouting from its forehead. She hadn't learned his name a week ago, but the turtle had called him Felrin.

Puck's pink glow shifted to a deeper rose as they drew closer to the pool's edge. His wings hummed in time with the falling water.

"There are so many," Eleanor whispered.

Water Pokémon lined the rocky shore. Some balanced on smooth stones while others floated at the surface. Fish she couldn't name with fins that rippled like silk banners in the depths. Closer to shore, a group of Wooper watched with dark, curious eyes. Eleanor spotted several long, eel like fish, their scales catching fragments of light despite their dull coloring. Still more, with frog like, amphibious bodies crowded the underbrush.

The gathering parted as Eleanor approached, creating a path to where Felrin waited. The large fish's scales gleamed with an inner light that seemed to pulse in time with the pool's own glow.

Eleanor's feet found purchase on a flat stone at the water's edge. The mist settled around her like a veil, beading in her hair and on her dress. She felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon her.

"I'm sorry I was late," she began, voice steady despite her racing heart. "I didn't mean to be rude. I..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I'm still not quite sure what you want me to do."

Puck's glow deepened to purple, reflecting Eleanor's uncertainty. Atlas remained characteristically still, watching the proceedings with hooded eyes.

The assembled Pokémon stayed silent, their attention fixed on Eleanor as the waterfall's song filled the space in the forest clearing. Felrin drifted closer to the shore, his antennae casting dancing shadows across the gathered faces.

"Been watchin' the depths die, bit by bit." His voice carried the weight of decades. "Started with the little things — reefs not growin' right, fish getting sick. Now it's spreadin'."

Ripples of unease moved through the assembled Pokémon. A Wooper near Eleanor's feet shuffled closer to its companions.

"We call it the Withering." Felrin's antennae dimmed slightly. "Like something's drainin' the life right outta everything it touches. Started in the deep parts of the pool, where the old ruins sleep. Now it's creepin' up, slow but sure."

The waterfall's roar seemed to fade, as she began to understood the gravity of what he was saying. Eleanor felt Puck's wings brush against her cheek as he landed on her shoulder.

"That glow you see?" Felrin gestured with his fin toward the depths. "Used to be twice as bright. The ruins down there? They keep this place alive. Now they're fadin', and everything's fadin' with 'em."

"But…" Eleanor felt helplessly lost, gazing around at the expectant crowd. "But I thought the Withering happened a long time ago? The other night the Elders came to Skystone Meadow and they shared the story with us." Eleanor gestured to herself and Puck. "How am I supposed to change something that happened at the very beginning of time?"

A hush fell over the crowd and Eleanor's eyes grew wide, shifting anxiously between the frightened faces.

"The Withering wasn't a thing that happened in one day," Felrin looked at her, gaze unreadable. "Its a curse. As in, it's still Witherin' us all."

A cold breeze stirred the surface of the pool, sending concentric rings across its mirror-like surface. The gathered water Pokémon murmured among themselves, their voices a chorus of worried whispers.

"What?" Eleanor felt her body go numb with shock.

"But you—" Felrin's antennae brightened as he faced Eleanor. "You got something different about you. Something that might—"

A harsh laugh cut through the air like a blade.

"Different? She's a human. That's what's different."

The assembled Pokémon scattered as a dark shape descended from the canopy. A massive black bird landed on a branch overlooking the pool, his feathers gleaming like polished obsidian in the fading light. His red eyes fixed on Eleanor with undisguised contempt.

The gathered Pokémon shifted away from Eleanor. A Wooper that had pressed close to her feet moments ago now retreated into deeper water. Ripples spread across the pool's surface as water-types ducked beneath, their curious eyes now wary.

"Humans are takers. They are greedy, and won't stop until they own everything they touch." His voice dripped venom from above. "And now you want to trust one with our most sacred places?"

Felrin's antennae dimmed. "The ruins—"

"The ruins are ours." The bird's wings spread wide, casting a deeper shadow. "They were here long before this human even existed. Long before humans made their machines and their capturing devices."

A fish broke the surface tension with a violent splash, fleeing deeper into the pool. Others followed, the shoreline was slowly clearing.

"You don't know what you're talking about." Atlas's voice cut through the panic, steady as bedrock. He inched forward on sturdy legs, positioning himself between Eleanor and the scattered crowd. "The Valley chose her. The Sisters let her pass."

"The Sisters might have been fooled." His beak clicked in derision. "Just like you've all been fooled. Look at her! She's been here one moon and she's already bound one of our own. How many more will she take?"

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

He turned to the pool where Felrin still rested and looked at him with open pity.

"You would beg the human for aid? You will cast yourself and all your eggs upon her greedy clutches until your pond is empty. Fools."

The remaining Pokémon pressed back further, creating a widening circle around Eleanor. Puck's glow shifted from deep rose to sickly yellow.

"I didn't take anyone," Eleanor's voice shook. "They chose—"

"Of course that's what you'd say." His talons scraped against bark. "That's what all humans say, right before they take everything." The bird began to pace slowly along the branch, preening under his captive audience.

"We've all heard the story of the Withering, haven't we?" His voice was oily. Persuasive. Reasonable. "We know it happened long ago, in the time before time. The first Pokemon were the ones that Withered. We are safe in this beautiful home, which protects and provides. Humans," he threw a wing out indicating Eleanor, "will tell stories to scare young Pokemon into leaving our safe paradise. A curse that makes us Wither still? Phaw!"

He spat, and a small bird on the branch above him fluttered off in surprise.

"Humans will invent any lie to make their conquest seem reasonable. Don't any of you find it strange that a human arrives in our midst and suddenly the Valley is 'Withering' and needs to be 'saved'?"

He met Eleanor's wide eyes with a cruel sneer, and she felt frozen beneath his glare, unable to move.

"Because I do. How convenient that the only cure for this malady is a human."

"The Valley provides wisdom to those who listen," Atlas spoke, his usual lazy drawl replaced with quiet authority. "And right now, you're making too much noise to hear it, Krawth."

The gathered Pokémon stilled, caught between the bird's accusations and Atlas's calm rebuke. The gathered crowd were clearly divided, unable to decide which Pokemon to side with until Felrin cut through the tension with a yell.

"Krawth, you great bag o' wind and gas! You come take a dip in my waters 'n tell me how we're not Withering!" The force of his cries carried him onto the shoreline where he began to sizzle and spark like a downed wire. "We've begged! Begged! For you flighty buggers and you mud crawlers to listen to us! For seasons we've been sufferin'! You come down here and call me a liar to my face ya fluffed up Pidgey!"

Eleanor took a fearful step back, feeling caught in the middle of something she didn't understand. The back of her heel bounded off something warm and springy, and she looked down to see Atlas crowding her ankle. When she met his gaze he slowly shook his head and indicated for her to keep silent.

Krawth, as the bird had been called, ruffled all his feathers in affront. He opened his swordlike beak as if to yell back at Felrin, but his gaze darted around the clearing in growing alarm and he closed it with a snap.

Around the clearing Pokemon were beginning to filter back in, peeking out from the trees they'd hid behind, and surfacing slowly in the waters of the pond.

Felrin glared up at Krawth with palpable rage, quivering where his body touched the ground.

"You've had yer time to squawk. Now its my turn n' I'll not be called a liar by the likes o' you!" Felrin heaved his body around so he was almost entirely on the shore, out of the water. Once he faced Eleanor the rage seemed to drain from him, making him look older and much more tired. "Please listen to us. We've no one else ta turn to and we've had no hope for so long. You've come all this way, won't ya please just stay and help us?"

Eleanor could feel Atlas and Puck press against her in support. She nodded shakily, trembling badly when it caused the great black bird above to caw in anger.

"Fools!"

"Enough!" Felrin's voice boomed across the clearing. Far above in the clear blue sky a single bolt of lightning cracked. Thunder rocked the gathering seconds later. Birds took off from the trees in droves and the sky filled with their cries of alarm, fading quickly into the distance.

Krawth looked shaken, but he remained on his perch, talons gripping the branch beneath him so tightly the wood was beginning to splinter.

"You've said yer piece, interloper. This girl came and she's agreed to fight the Withering so that's what we're set to do. If you don't like it, take it up with the Highhoof."

Krawth let out a rude caw, and erupted from his branch into the clear sky.

Eleanor sat heavily on the ground, feeling as if she'd just dodged a danger she didn't fully comprehend.

"Who has that?" Eleanor asked, placing a shaky hand against her racing heart.

"Krawth," answered many voices in chorus.

Atlas settled gently over one of her knees.

"Krawth is a great example of too much intelligence being a weakness." He looked at Eleanor with soft eyes, and reached over with a stubby leg to pat her comfortingly. "His mind is sharp enough that it can invent new and incredible things for him to concern himself with. He should be pitied, but not feared. You're safe here, Eleanor."

"I've halfa mind to bring it up at the Foaling. This Valley has been fading long before you got here and I'm tired of not being listened to." Felrin seemed to age as Eleanor watched, his antennae casting wavering light across the now-quiet gathering. "The Keeper of the Meadows walks these lands in the summer. We'll come to him then and he'll be made ta listen."

"Highhoof," a Wooper whispered, awe in its voice.

"Ironmane," another breathed.

"Who is that?" Puck murmured. Eleanor felt Puck's wings flutter against her neck as he shifted position to be closer to her ear. "People have mentioned the Highhoof ever since we've gotten here."

"The great stallion that leads his herd through the valley each summer," Felrin's voice carried across the water. "Where he walks, the earth remembers its strength. The waters run clear. But the Witherings spreadin' faster now," he continued, his light dimming. "Down in the deep lakes 'neath the falls, where the old ruins sleep... there's places where nothing lives anymore. Just empty darkness that drinks the light right outta anything what touches it."

Eleanor shivered as she imagined vast underground caverns, their waters turned to ink.

"How can anyone stop that?"

"We need ya to name us. Do that first step, agin' and agin', till there's enough of us what can go down to the depths and bring light to the dark places," Felrin's antennae pulsed. "We begged for the Highhoof to bring us a Trained Pokemon, but the Elders have argued about it every season. Keep dragging it out, sayin' things 'bout how bringing in new 'children' shouldna be a 'hasty endeavor'. Kept saying how them 'pokeballs' are against the Laws of the Valley, and trained folk might bring in new, perverted ideas 'bout them. Funny how letting me and my kin Wither don't count as 'against the Laws', innit."

"The universe provides what we need," Atlas stirred beside Eleanor. "When we need it most."

"That's why we called ya here," Felrin turned his gleaming eyes to Eleanor. "You have the gift of namin' and strengthenin' Pokemon, seeing as you're a human and all." He waved his glow-stalk towards Puck. "We've seen how your words take root, become real. If you could name some of us, give us power over what lurks below, we'd be strong enough to fight back agin'st it."

The gathered Pokémon leaned forward, hope and fear mingling in their expressions. Eleanor felt the weight of their expectations press against her like the mist that clung to her skin.

"But…but all of you?" she whispered. "Is that dangerous?"

"She can't bond with all of you, that's too much for anybody!" Puck looked alarmed at the idea, his glow strobing a bright, yellow warning signal. "You ask too much!"

"No, no, not a full bond. By the maker's mane, you think we're all swimming in the funny juice down here? No!" Felrin seemed to take a deep breath and force himself to speak calmly and clearly through great effort. "I can see that you need a bit more information."

"Yes, please, I still feel so confused," said Eleanor.

Felrin nodded at her, gently easing himself back into the pool until only his face remained above the water. Eleanor crossed her legs, getting more comfortable.

"The Withering began long ago, as the Creator saw fit. That we can all agree on. What comes next is where people disagree. Some say the Withering ended there, but others, 'specially my kind," Felrin indicated the deep water beneath him, "know differently."

Eleanor felt mesmerized by his simple, honest speech. He might have been the most plainspoken Pokemon she'd met so far, but Felrin was oddly compelling when he talked.

"If a group of Pokemon go too long without a bond to a human like the Good Lord decreed, the Withering takes root in their bloodline. It grows worse and worse with each batch o' eggs, 'til the kin gets so weak their descendants barely resemble their ancestors anymore. Go long enough and there ain't nothin' left of the mind or the spark o' the divine. That's when ye become a Hollow."

The only sound in the entire clearing was the thunder of the waterfall, just beyond their gathering.

"A Hollow?" Puck tested the word quietly.

Felrin nodded, face grave.

"Hollows are what happens when a group of Pokemon has Withered fer so long that there ain't nothin' left that makes them Pokemon anymore. They cain't speak, cain't think, cain't act like Pokemon do. The Witherin drains all the Energy out of them until they're naught but an empty shell. Hollows are dead, they just ain't stopped breathin' yet."

Eleanor could barely begin to grasp the enormity of what Felrin was saying. It sounded like zombies, or like the darker myths the C'ulquim had of monsters that looked like people but were just malevolent spirits inside.

She looked at Puck and thought of him becoming like Felrin described, drained away until everything that made him wonderful and unique was gone.

Hollow.

She looked back at the gathering of Pokemon who had stayed, despite Krawth's fearmongering. Doubt lingered in their gazes. The large bird's words had taken root. Yet they still surrounded her despite their fear, clinging to the hope that she would help.

Courage, liquid and warm, filled her at the thought.

She slowly rose to her feet and met Felrin's eyes with all the seriousness she could muster.

"I want to help. What do you need me to do?"

"We don't need much from ya, human. Just a few o' us named and given strength. We won't let it go so far as all that Bondin' business. But a name, please, and a few days o' yer time to get us set up fer the fight down below. We could keep the Witherin' at bay, so long as we had something to fight back agin'st it."

She thought of the darkness spreading through the deep waters beneath their feet, hungry and patient. She shivered. Eleanor wouldn't let something so evil take root in this Valley. If there was even a chance this would work, she had to try.

"How do we start?"

The water Pokémon drifted like leaves caught in a gentle whirlpool, their movements graceful and purposeful. Felrin guided two fish forward to the shore, their scales catching the late afternoon light.

"Keep your mind clear," Atlas murmured from his spot near her feet. "Names have power here. Let them come to you naturally. Don't think too hard, just say what comes to your mind."

The first fish's fins rippled like silk in the water as he approached. Eleanor spoke almost as soon as she felt the name form in her mind, urgency making her bold.

"Finn," she spoke softly. The water around him shimmered with his agitated movements as he darted away.

The long, gray fish wiggled forward next, whiskers twitching with excitement.

"Dunn," Eleanor said with more confidence. A small splash marked his dive of joy.

Felrin moved last, his antennae casting dancing lights across the surface of the pool. When he took a spot in front of her, her breath caught. Did he want?…

Eleanor closed her eyes, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over her shoulders. When she opened them, she found Atlas resting patiently against her leg. She nodded at him and turned back to Felrin.

There was only one name that fit.

"Zeus," she breathed. The glow from his antennae brightened momentarily, then settled into a steady, stronger light.

The other water Pokémon drifted back respectfully as the newly named trio swam happy circles around each other. Their joy spread ripples across the pool's surface, breaking up the reflected sky into fragments of blue and gold.

"Thank you," Zeus's voice carried clearly across the water. "We'll rest for the night. Come back tomorrow and we'll do the next steps. Yer a good girl, Eleanor. We thank ye."

Eleanor nodded, suddenly exhausted. The birds had begun their songs again, filling the air with gentle trills. She turned toward home, Puck settling on her shoulder while Atlas trundled along beside her.

Behind them, the waterfall's roar merged with the sound of splashing as the water Pokémon resumed their normal activities. The familiar noises of the valley wrapped around Eleanor like a comfortable blanket, helping to ease the tension from her shoulders as she and her friends walked home.

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Eleanor sat cross-legged at the pool's edge, her fingertips barely grazing the water's surface. The morning sun painted the tree tops above in golden light, which seemed to magnify in the swirling mists at the waterfall's powerful base.

It had taken her less time to overcome the fear, this morning. Reaching out to touch the water had been so impossibly scary at first, but she was doing better, bit by bit. It helped enormously that an army of fish had promised to keep her afloat if she somehow managed to fall in.

"Feel the energy flowing through you," Atlas murmured from his spot beside her. "Like roots growing down into soil."

"I don't feel anything." Her brow furrowed. As always, the only connection that she could touch within her mind was Puck. He sat on her knee, fluttering each time she gripped their bond and pulled.

"That's because you're trying too hard. Stop reaching. Just be."

Eleanor relaxed her shoulders, letting her mind drift. The water lapped gently against her fingers.

"Better," Atlas nodded. "Now imagine your energy like honey dripping from your fingers into the pool."

A tingle sparked through her hand. One of the fish — she'd named him Ripple that morning — swam closer, brushing against her fingers.

"There you go," Atlas said. "That's how you focus. Not forcing, not commanding. Just communing."

The sensation grew stronger. Ripple's scales gleamed brighter, his movements more purposeful.

Later that night, Eleanor sat with Atlas in their meadow. Stars winked overhead while crickets chirped their evening songs.

"Close your eyes," Atlas instructed. "Remember how the water felt today?"

She nodded, recalling the cool touch against her skin. She'd been so scared of the water, but each time she went to the Waterfall Pool it got a little easier. A little less scary.

"That same energy flows through everything. Through you, through me, through the grass beneath us."

Eleanor breathed deeply, feeling the night air fill her lungs. The ground seemed to pulse beneath her.

"Most Pokemon get it wrong," Atlas continued. "Will isn't about power or control. It's about connection."

Each day at the pool, the fish grew stronger. Their scales sparkled with renewed vigor, movements crisp and deliberate. Eleanor no longer had to concentrate to share her energy. It flowed naturally as she dwelt, fingers trailing into the pool and eyes closed in peace, like a spring bubbling up from deep underground.

"You're learning," Atlas observed one evening, watching her work. "Not trying to force the river's course anymore."

Eleanor smiled, understanding at last.

The power wasn't hers to command. She was simply a channel for something that had always been there, waiting to be discovered.

Not everyone in the Valley seemed to appreciate their project, however.

One night Eleanor's feet dragged through the grass as she walked home from the pool. Puck dozed on her shoulder while Atlas trundled along beside them, humming contentedly.

A flutter of wings caught her attention. Three Pidove perched on a low branch ahead, chattering among themselves. Eleanor recognized them — they'd often shared her morning berries, cooing gentle greetings.

"Good afternoon," she called, raising her hand in greeting.

The Pidoves' conversation cut off. They shuffled on their branch, exchanging quick glances. One preened its wing feathers with careful precision while another became fascinated by a distant tree. The third met Eleanor's eyes for a brief moment before looking away.

Eleanor's hand dropped to her side. She walked past in silence, her chest tight.

"Oh my goodness, is that Eleanor? Eleanor! You'll never believe what happened at the elder council meeting this morning—" Lyrii's voice burst through the awkward silence like sunshine through storm clouds. The Pachirisu bounded down from a nearby tree, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Lyrii, slow down," Atlas chuckled.

"Can't slow down, too much to tell! Did you know the Highhoof's herd is coming early this year? And the berry harvest looks like it'll be the biggest in decades, and—" Lyrii paused for breath. "Oh! And I heard what you're doing at the waterfall. Brilliant work, absolutely brilliant. Some of the younger ones were telling me how the fish are already showing improvement."

"You heard about that?" Eleanor's shoulders relaxed slightly.

"Of course! News travels fast here. Though some silly birds might not understand what they're hearing." Lyrii shot a pointed look at the now-empty branch. "But those of us who know you? We see what you're really doing."

"Thanks, Lyrii." Eleanor managed a small smile.

"Now, as I was saying about the elder council—" Lyrii launched into another rapid-fire story, leading them down the path toward home.

It was a few days later when the next sign of change appeared. The afternoon sun filtered through the leaves as Eleanor approached Skystone Meadow earlier than she had been doing, as of late. Zeus felt like she might be approaching the end of her part of the work and she'd been released to go home and rest.

Several Pokemon sat in a circle, sharing berries and pleasant conversation. Their chatter died as Eleanor came into view.

"Oh." Eleanor's steps faltered. "I didn't realize there was a meeting today."

A Swablu shifted uncomfortably, tucking its cloudy wings closer. Two Budew whispered to each other, their flower buds turning away. The Pidove from earlier huddled together, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

"Eleanor, I..." Lyrii's voice cracked. "They asked me not to bring you."

"I understand." Eleanor's chest tightened, but she kept her expression neutral.

"It's not right," Lyrii burst out, turning to face the group. "Eleanor's done nothing wrong! She's helping the Pokemon of the Waterfall, making them stronger. How can you listen to Krawth's lies when—"

"Lyrii." Eleanor held up a placating hand, edging past the group towards her humble house. "It's okay."

"No, it's not! You're my friend, and they're being horrible, and—"

"And getting angry won't change their minds." Eleanor managed a small smile. "Go enjoy your tea gathering. We can have our own picnic later."

"But..." Lyrii's tail drooped.

"Really. I'm fine." Eleanor reached down to squeeze Lyrii's paw. "Sometimes people need time to understand new things. That's not their fault."

The gathered Pokemon watched this exchange in silence, some looking ashamed, others still wary.

"You're sure?" Lyrii asked quietly.

"Absolutely." Eleanor nodded. "Have fun with your friends, Lyrii. I'll see you later."

As Eleanor walked away, she heard Lyrii's voice behind her, thick with emotion: "You know what? I don't think I'm in the mood for tea today either."

Eleanor had crawled inside her little tent home, cuddled up to Puck and Atlas, and cried until she fell asleep.

The next day Eleanor trailed her fingers through the pool's crystal waters, watching as three named fish darted between her hands. Their scales gleamed with renewed vigor, catching the morning light in flashes of silver and blue. The energy she gave them flowed effortlessly now, a gentle current passing from her core through her fingertips.

"Look how strong they're getting," Puck observed from his perch on her shoulder.

A group of Oddish wandered past the pool, their leaves swaying in the morning breeze. One paused, watching Eleanor work. Its companions hurried ahead, whispering urgently until the lingerer shuffled after them.

"The fish are doing well," Atlas noted from his spot in the shade. "Their movements are more deliberate each day."

Eleanor nodded, focusing on a particularly small fish that had been struggling. Its fins moved with new purpose as it circled her hand, scales taking on a healthier sheen.

Later that afternoon, she passed the ancient oak where the valley's flying types often gathered. Snippets of conversation drifted down.

"—but the fish are clearly stronger—"

"That doesn't mean it's right—"

"The Highhoof will know what to do when—"

The voices hushed as she walked beneath their branches. Eleanor kept her eyes forward, pretending not to notice.

At the stream crossing, a young Wooper splashed cheerfully toward her. Its parent called sharply, and the little one retreated with a confused backward glance.

"Eleanor!" Lyrii's voice cut through the awkward moment. The Pachirisu bounded over, followed by two Wooloo who had often shared berries with Eleanor before. "We were just talking about how the fish have been spawning up the Waterfall now, exploring parts of the Valley river they haven't in too many seasons to count!"

The Wooloo nodded enthusiastically, though Eleanor noticed they kept slightly more distance than they once had.

That evening, she sat at the pool's edge again. A school of fish swam confident patterns below, their movements strong and purposeful. Whatever else happened in the Valley, this work felt right. The energy flowed clean and true between them, like a stream finding its natural course.

That night Eleanor sat with her back against the Skystone, watching the sunset paint the meadow in amber hues. Her fingers absently traced the rock's smooth surface while Puck dozed in her lap.

"The fish are getting stronger every day," she mused.

Atlas shifted beside her, his usual drowsy expression thoughtful.

The past weeks had brought such changes. The water Pokémon moved with renewed vigor, their scales gleaming with health. Some had even ventured beyond their deep pools, exploring upstream with curiosity they hadn't shown in generations.

Yet for every victory at the pool, there was a turned head in the meadow, a hushed conversation that stopped when she passed. The Valley felt divided, like a stream splitting around a stone.

"You know," Eleanor said softly, "back home, Mom used to tell me that doing the right thing isn't always the easy thing."

She thought of the Oddish who'd lingered to watch her work, of the Wooloo who still came to greet her, even if they kept their distance. Of Lyrii's fierce loyalty and Atlas's steady wisdom.

"Maybe that's what growing up means. Learning that not everyone will see things the way you do, but doing what's right anyway."

The energy she shared with the fish felt pure and true, like spring water bubbling up from deep underground. Whatever doubts swirled in the Valley, that connection remained clear and strong.

"The fish are healing," she said with quiet certainty. "They're getting better. Zeus said they're going to head to the depths and fight back against the Withering today. He said that he'd have his first story about it tomorrow morning."

Puck stirred in her lap, his glow shifting to a warm pink.

"You've changed," he observed.

Eleanor smiled, remembering the scared girl who'd first arrived in the Valley. The girl who'd been so terrified of water that approaching the pool had been a trial to rival the sisters. She thought about how easy it was now, how natural it felt.

"We all have."

The meadow grass swayed in the evening breeze, crickets beginning their nightly chorus. Despite everything, Eleanor felt at peace. The path ahead might not be easy, but she knew in her heart it was right.

----------------------------------------

Eleanor's feet dragged through the wet, morning grass as she made her way to the pool. The sun hadn't quite crested the valley walls, leaving the morning air cool and gray. Her usual perch by the water's edge beckoned, where a smooth rock was being worn comfortable by weeks of visits.

Puck's wings drooped as he landed beside her. Atlas trailed behind, his usual lazy gait making him slower.

A Poliwag broke the surface with a gentle splash, spinning a lazy circle before ducking back under. Two Lotad drifted closer, their broad leaves creating ripples that spread across the previously still water. The familiar faces brought a slight curve to Eleanor's lips, though it didn't reach her eyes.

She settled into her spot, fingers trailing in the cool water. A school of the fish she'd named gathered beneath her hand, their scales catching what little light filtered down. Dunn bumped gently against her fingers in greeting.

The routine felt worn and comfortable, like a favorite blanket. Eleanor let her shoulders drop, trying to find that familiar flow of energy between herself and the water Pokemon. The fish circled closer, patient and trusting. They'd learned her rhythms as surely as she'd learned theirs.

The Goldeen she'd named Finn on the first day drifted up, its delicate fins waving like ribbons in the current. Usually the sight would bring a smile to her face, but today she could barely manage a nod of acknowledgment.

The energy came slower this morning, trickling instead of flowing. Eleanor shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on her rock. The fish waited, their movements calm and unhurried. They'd grown used to her daily visits, to the ebb and flow of her presence in their lives.

Atlas settled into his usual spot nearby, his manner subdued. The morning silence wrapped around them like a heavy cloak, broken only by the gentle lapping of water against stone. Puck settled quietly onto her shoulder, turning around in circles to find the perfect position for napping.

Zeus broke through the water's surface with unusual energy, sending droplets flying.

"Eleanor! The scouts 're back from the deep waters. Something amazin' happened, child!"

Puck fluttered off her shoulder in suprise, and Eleanor's stomach tightened at his enthusiasm. The other fish drew back, creating a respectful circle around Zeus.

"We discovered an entire school livin' in the depths. It must have been generations since they surfaced. In the deep, dark places they was hidin', and it's there that we finally met them."

"Were they dangerous?" Puck shifted closer.

"Nay," Zeus's fins fluttered dismissively. "Magikarps ain't hardly ever dangerous, even ones that ain't Withered. Red little, busybodies, stickin' their whiskers where they don't belong, maybe. But never dangerous."

Eleanor's fingers felt cold where they touched the water. Something nagged at the back of her mind, a half-formed thought she couldn't quite grasp.

"They speak in the old way," Zeus continued, "with sounds that echo through the depths. Their language is ancient, harder for most Pokemon to ken, even with Aura."

"The old way?" Atlas stirred from his usual lazy pose.

"Yes! Like songs that ripple through the water. But they're..." Zeus paused, searching for words. "They're diminished somehow. Their voices have been growin' fainter throughout the years. Been ages since one o' their own has taken pains to speak in the manner o' men, like the rest o' us."

Eleanor's chest tightened. The waterfall's mist suddenly felt thick, hard to breathe. Red fish. Whiskers…

"They were the first to Wither, down in the depths. Magikarp've always been harder to convince to venture forth. Jes' somethin' about their kind what makes them prone to the Witherin'," Zeus said softly. "But they're still so strong, so noble in their own way.

"We dove down deep and joined their school. We brushed 'em, scale to scale and fin to fin, 'till the color started returning and the blood started pumpin' in their veins once more. We spoke of you, Eleanor, and we brought them back the Energy what drained from 'em."

The half-formed thought crystallized into cold certainty. Eleanor's hand jerked back from the water, drops falling from her trembling fingers.

"They're…Pokemon?" Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "These Magikarp?"

"'Course! That's not the best part, Eleanor. One o' them asked how we was fightin' back 'n we told him about you! About the human in the Valley, n' guess what? He wants ta meet ya!"

Eleanor felt her limbs lock up. Everything felt numb as a wave of growing dread locked all her muscles in place. Suddenly, she knew what was about to happen, even as she watched it unfold.

"Oy, bring him up!" Zeus had turned to yell over his shoulder.

Bubbles began frothing in the pool behind him.

The water parted and a red fish emerged.

Tears gathered in her eyes.

The fish's scales glinted in the early light, yellow whiskers trailing like ribbons. It stared at her with wide, black eyes.

She'd seen those eyes before. They'd stared up at her many times, as she poised over the creatures with rocks held high, ready to end. To kill.

The tears began to fall.

All around her the Pokemon were cavorting. They kept laughing and speaking but she couldn't hear their words, couldn't speak. Puck had fallen from the sky, wings rigid with horror, shaking somewhere on her lap.

Atlas was staring at them with open concern.

She couldn't do anything but stare at the Magikarp as it slowly approached.

Its mouth opened.

"Thank you for helping my people." His voice was deep, resonant, carrying wisdom earned through ages spent in darkness.

Eleanor's throat closed. Her lungs refused to draw breath. The fish — the Magikarp — continued speaking, but the words blurred together into meaningless sound as blood rushed in her ears.

Those whiskers. Just like the ones that had brushed against her hands as she'd...as she'd...

Her stomach lurched violently. Every fish she'd killed flashed through her mind, their desperate flops growing weaker, their whiskers twitching as life drained away. Not mindless creatures, but people. People who could think, who could speak, who had families waiting in the depths.

Her muscles locked, frozen by the weight of understanding.

She'd murdered them.

The rock beneath her felt sharp, cutting into her palms where she gripped it. The morning air turned thick, suffocating.

The Magikarp's words faded to background noise as her thoughts spiraled.

How many had she killed? Ten? Twenty? More? Each one had been someone's child, someone's parent, someone's friend. They'd had hopes, dreams, fears… entire lives she'd snuffed out without a second thought.

Because surviving had been all she had cared about.

Because it hadn't spoken to her in a way she understood and she had conveniently decided that meant they couldn't speak at all.

Bile rose in her throat. The gentle lapping of water against stone became the thrashing of dying bodies. The morning mist transformed into ghostly whiskers, reaching accusingly toward her.

She'd eaten them. She'd taken their bodies and...

The horror settled into her bones like ice, spreading through her veins until she felt brittle enough to shatter. There was no undoing this. No way to make it right. The weight of it crushed against her chest until each shallow breath felt like drowning.

They had been people.

They had always been people.

And she had killed them all.