CHAPTER 8: THE TRIALS OF PEACE AND TRUTH

Eleanor and Puck were guided to a part of the forest they'd never explored. Creatures of all sizes bustled about, clearing debris from the flood. A short, elegant creature with a soft voice and a large fluffy head like a dandelion gone to seed directed the efforts, her movements graceful despite the chaos.

"That's Bellanotta," Brimson whispered before floating away.

Eleanor had been told that one of the elder Eldegoss' descendants would act as guide for the first leg of their journey, which was a relief. She felt daunted by the idea of starting this journey alone. The creature turned, revealing a face that reminded Eleanor of her mother's favorite orchid.

"Welcome, little ones. I heard about your rescue during the storm."

"Thank you for having us." Eleanor shifted her weight. "I'm Eleanor, and this is Puck."

"I am called Bellanotta by some. A pleasure." Bellanotta floated on an invisible breeze, bringing herself closer to Eleanor's height. "My father speaks highly of your courage."

"Your father?" Puck chimed in, his glow brightening with curiosity.

"Brimson, the Elder who invited you to our glade." Pride tinged her melodic voice. "He's taught me everything I know about healing."

Around them, smaller creatures carried broken branches while larger ones cleared fallen trees. The air smelled of wet earth and crushed herbs, mingling with the sweet scent of healing berries.

"Are you all... Pokemon?" Eleanor tested the unfamiliar word she'd heard the creatures use earlier.

"Ah, that name." Bellanotta's laugh reminded Eleanor of the hoot of an owl, soft and musical, something meant for moonlit gardens and warm cups of tea. "Humans gave us that title long ago. We have our own names for ourselves, but Pokemon has become... a convenient word to use when speaking with others. Particularly humans."

She gestured at Eleanor, but unlike the derisive tone Albstat had used, 'humans' didn't seem to be a slur when Bellanotta said it. She noted it as simple fact, like one might note the color of Eleanor's hair or the wings on Puck's back.

A group of mushroom-like creatures shuffled past, carrying armfuls of medicinal looking plants. Water dripped from leaves overhead, creating a gentle percussion that mixed with the sounds of rebuilding.

"Would you like to learn about some of our healing plants while we walk?" Bellanotta gestured toward a winding path. "Many were damaged in the flood, but that makes it the perfect time to learn about some of them."

Eleanor nodded eagerly, thinking immediately of many walks with her mother over the years. Puck settled on her shoulder, his wings creating a soft hum of excitement.

Bellanotta drifted between patches of crushed plants, her cottony crown swaying. As she spoke about the plants, pointing them out, she often told Eleanor the types of creatures that were nearby at the same time. For the first time since her arrival she had names for the creatures, like Gossifleur (the baby that Eleanor had rescued) or Eldegoss (Bellanotta herself).

Bellanotta's gait was a curious mixture of floating on an invisible wind, and swaying on her small, willowy legs.

"These purple flowers? Wonderful for fever. The roots store well through winter."

"But how do you tell which plants are good?" Puck zoomed closer to inspect a cluster of the broken stems, his glow shifting to a curious pink. "They all look the same to me."

"Patience, little Puck. See these leaf patterns? Nature marks her gifts clearly, if you know where to look."

Eleanor crouched beside a patch of mint-like plants.

"These smell like the tea my mom made."

"Ah, you have a healer's instinct." Bellanotta nodded approvingly. "Those leaves—"

A black-and-white blur shot through the underbrush, scattering the remnants of the plants they were inspecting.

"Bella! Bella! Did you see what I found? Didya?"

"Snubb." Bellanotta's tone carried fond exasperation. "What have we discussed about rushing through the healing gardens?"

The young Zigzagoon skidded to a stop, prancing in place with barely contained excitement.

"Sorry! But look — flood brought these downstream!" He dropped several smooth river stones at their feet. "Perfect for grinding!"

Puck darted down to examine the stones.

"They're so smooth! How did the water do that?"

"Time and patience," Bellanotta began, but Snubb was already bouncing between Eleanor and Puck.

"I'll show you! There's this whole bend in the river where they collect. The Palpitoad family uses them for their dens. Oh! Oh! Better yet, lets go pick some food for your travels! C'mon! Hurry! Hurry!"

"Snubb helps locate materials," Bellanotta explained as the Zigzagoon bounced around them. "Though his methods are... enthusiastic."

"That's putting it mildly," chuckled a passing Shroomish, balancing a bundle of bark on its fungal cap. "He found my whole mushroom farm by literally crashing into it."

"Best accident ever!" Snubb declared proudly. "Now we have medicine and crushed mushroom treats!"

Snubb bounded over the unrecognizable landscape, painted a uniform brown by the lingering layer of mud; mud that was already beginning to dry and crack in the heat of the sun overhead. Snubb talked almost as much as Puck, and Eleanor felt overwhelmed by the noise of it.

She hadn't had a companion other than Puck in so many weeks, and she felt unusually shy around all these new creatures. The new voices and faces mixed into a blend that overwhelmed her senses, leaving her feeling a bit dazed. The 'Pokemon' creatures were all so busy, and they conversed with each other so loudly after so much silence. Eleanor felt desperately out of place.

The novelty of being somewhere new, of having the Pokemon treat her like one of them, was slowly wearing off. Sorrow hadn't really left her soul yet, and in the quiet walk through the woods it began to creep back in.

Her grief over the flood weighed upon her mind. As the four of them traveled across the destroyed forest Eleanor fell back to walk next to Bella in silence, while Puck and Snubb chattered loudly ahead.

Snubb led them to the edges of a large bramble patch. With hardly a pause in his stride, Snubb wiggled under the prickly bushes.

Eleanor was forced to consider how she might proceed.

She slowly fell to her knees in the mud, looking for the best way to go forward. The brambles were so thick she was forced to crawl on her belly in the muck, while the thorns and branches grabbed at her hair and scraped down her back. Just when she was beginning to worry that she'd become stuck, she tumbled through to sunshine on the other side. Relieved, Eleanor stood up, brushing herself off.

Snubb had lead them to a sheltered grove where dozens of berry bushes grew in neat, orderly rows. It looked mostly undamaged by the flood waters, and many other Zigzagoons were repairing what the storm had undone.

"My family's been tending these since forever!" He puffed up with pride, skipping between the plants on all four paws. "See these blue ones? They're super good for healing cuts."

Eleanor knelt beside a bush heavy with plump berries.

"I know these ones!" she said with some surprise. "A squirrel told us about them. They look like blueberries from home."

"Oran berries," Bellanotta corrected gently. "Though perhaps related to your blueberries. Nature often echoes herself."

"Look how they grow in patterns!" Puck darted between clusters, his glow brightening.

"That's my gran's work," Snubb beamed. "She says berries grow better when you plant them in spirals. Something about energy flows."

A soft bleating drew their attention. A fluffy white Pokemon rolled toward them, balancing a bundle of fabric on its woolly body.

"The dress is ready!" Snubb bounced excitedly. "Everyone helped to make it!"

The oncoming creature resembled a lamb. Though rather than ambling on four legs like its earthly counterpart it tumbled head over heels, somersaulting closer to them with each strange motion. It stopped in front of them and carefully lowered itself, allowing Bellanotta to access the green bundle of cloth on its back. Eleanor stepped back in surprise when Bellanotta turned and held the bundle out, gesturing for her to take it.

The fabric unfurled into a simple but beautiful dress, dyed in soft greens and browns that matched the forest. Tiny flowers had been carefully stitched along the hem.

"The Wooloo herd provided the softest fibers," Bellanotta explained, gesturing to the sheep. He looked down, smiling bashfully. "The Roselia contributed dyes from their favorite flowers. Even the Caterpie helped with reinforcing the seams."

"It's beautiful." Eleanor ran her fingers over the simple, utilitarian stitching. She had no idea that Pokemon could create textiles like people could. She hadn't ever observed the forest creatures using tools or crafting things. It was so…human of them.

Feeling touched by the gift, Eleanor blinked back tears for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, and her mouth lifted in a watery smile.

"Try it on!" Puck zoomed around her head, his excitement causing his pink glow to pulse brighter.

Unconcerned about propriety around these otherworldly beings who neither wore garments nor paid attention to her nakedness, she removed her tattered top and set it down on the earth next to her.

Eleanor pulled the dress over her head and gasped. The fabric felt like wearing a warm breeze, perfectly sized to allow for climbing and running.

"Now you really look like you belong in the weald," Snubb declared, his zigzag tail wagging.

Eleanor twirled, watching the dress float around her. For the first time since arriving on the Forest World she looked the part of an adventurer.

Then her eyes landed on her ruined shirt, laying on the ground. Its torn seams, missing buttons, and stains were a roadmap of her struggles. For one inexplicable moment, Eleanor wanted to rip the gorgeous dress off her body and put the ruined shirt back on.

A light caress on her forearm drew her gaze downward. Bella was resting her graceful, emerald fingers there with a tender expression.

"Perhaps you should bring it with you. It looks very important."

Eleanor swallowed her tears, swiping her eyes and nodded firmly. She bent down and picked up the relic of home, cradling the rags carefully against her chest.

As dusk approached, they returned to the ruined healing glade. Eleanor clutched her mother's shirt close as creatures of all sizes gathered in a circle around them, emerging slowly from the shadows around the grove. Bellanotta floated to the center, her cottony crown glowing softly in the fading light.

"Friends of the weald," she began, her voice carrying through the clearing. "Tonight we send two brave souls toward Annwn." She gestured to Eleanor and Puck, who stood apart from the group. "Behold, the Children of the Valley."

The gathered Pokemon murmured in response, a sound that reminded Eleanor of the C'ulquim singing during ceremony.

"Children of the Valley," the Pokemon said, over and over until their voices blended into a chant that carried up into the canopy and drifted away on the wind.

Eleanor felt goosebumps erupt all over at the sound, and she rubbed her arms to chase the feeling away. Puck seemed similarly effected as he shivered next to her, his colorful glow shifting wildly through the whole rainbow before settling down into a tentative pink once more.

One by one, they approached with gifts. Bellanotta offered their names and what the creatures were called, until Eleanor's head felt like it was swimming with too much information.

A Caterpie offered a silk pouch woven with intricate patterns. A family of Oddish presented dried herbs wrapped in large leaves. The Wooloo who'd helped with her dress rolled forward with a blanket of impossibly soft wool.

"These gifts carry our hopes," Bellanatta continued. "But more importantly, they carry our trust."

Puck's glow shifted to a deep rose as he hovered near Eleanor's shoulder. She felt his wings brush against her cheek.

Brimson drifted forward, his weathered face serious.

"Eleanor. Puck. From this day forward you are friends of the weald. Though you may journey far, you will always have a home among us."

Eleanor's throat tightened as she remembered similar words spoken at tribal gatherings, the weight of belonging settling around her shoulders like a warm shawl.

"The path ahead is long," the elder continued, "but you do not walk alone. The weald remembers its own."

The assembled Pokemon began to hum again, a melody that seemed to rise from the earth itself. Snubb pressed against Eleanor's legs, his usual boundless energy contained in reverent stillness.

"We entrust you with our greatest treasure," Bellanatta said softly. "The location of Annwn. Guard it well, and may it guard you in return."

Eleanor felt Puck's glow intensify beside her, matching the warm light that seemed to emanate from the gathered community. In that moment, surrounded by creatures who had chosen to trust them, Eleanor felt something shift inside her.

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Bellanotta's gentle glow pierced the darkness, casting pearl-white light across Eleanor's sleeping face. The forest held its breath in these final moments before dawn, when night creatures sought their dens and day dwellers still dreamed.

Eleanor blinked awake, fighting the pull of her warm bed. She rolled up her new wool blanket with sleepy motions, tucking it into the silk pouch. Above, Puck's wings hummed quietly as he gathered their gifts of berries and roots, passing them to her to help with the packing. They'd practiced this several times the night before.

"Time to leave, little ones," Bellanotta whispered.

They broke away from the glowing camp, setting out into the dark morning forest. Bellanotta floated ahead of them, her steps measured and sure.

Eleanor walked in a sleepy trance, remnants of her dream still lingering. It took several long minutes for her to shake the last cobwebs of sleep and start paying attention to their surroundings. A flash of memory from the day before. Hadn't Brimson said something about following the Morning Star?

Eleanor tilted her head back.

Unfamiliar constellations painted the heavens in sweeping arcs of silver. Nothing matched her memories of Oregon's night sky, but the principles remained the same.

Puck floated over, watching her curiously. "What is it?" He tilted back as well, trying to spot whatever she was looking at.

"See how that bright one sits four hand-widths above the horizon?" Eleanor held her palm flat against the sky, measuring carefully. "And those three form a triangle about six hands high? We can use them to walk straight."

Puck drifted lower, his glow shifting to curious mauve.

"How do you know all this?"

"My Dad taught me. He said the stars are a map you can never lose." Eleanor's voice caught slightly. "Even if these aren't his stars, they still move the same way. I suppose we'll just have to rechart the map part."

"The elders speak of star-wisdom, at times." Bellanotta's cotton crown pulsed with soft light. "I did not expect to find it in one so young."

"Mom always said knowing where you are is the first step to knowing where you're going." Eleanor shouldered their pack, now considerably heavier with their food stores. At the very bottom of the pack was the ruined rag of her shirt from Earth. It wasn't practical to bring, but she couldn't stand to leave it behind.

"Perhaps this is why the weald called you here." Bellanotta drifted closer, her expression thoughtful.

Puck landed on Eleanor's shoulder, his wings settling into stillness. Together they watched the strange stars wheel overhead, marking their bearing as their odyssey finally began.

Pre-dawn mist clung to Eleanor's ankles as they walked. The forest floor changed beneath her feet, transitioning from soft loam to patches of stone and exposed root systems.

"So humans put Pokemon in those red and white balls?" Eleanor picked her way across a fallen log, arms spread for balance.

"Some do." Bellanotta's cotton crown caught the early light. "Others prefer to live apart."

"How does something as big as a Pokemon fit into a little ball like that?" Eleanor glanced carefully at Puck, who had gone a pale yellow at the first mention of the devices. She'd almost forgotten how strong his fear of them was.

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"That is a very human question." Bellanotta hummed, eyes scanning the sunrise against the horizon. "I doubt there are Pokemon in the weald who could answer that for you."

"What about the Pokemon in the valley we're heading to? Would they know things like that?"

"The Valley of Annwn has remained untouched by such things."

"But why do Humans stuff people in those tiny balls at all? Wouldn't it hurt being squished so small?" Puck darted between branches overhead, his glow shifting to a tart, bubblegum pink.

"Each chooses their own path." Bellanotta drifted around a thorny bush. "Some find purpose in partnership, others in solitude."

"Back home, my mom sometimes worked with horses." Eleanor hopped down from the log, grateful for the tight weave of her dress and the ease with which it protected her from the scratchy bark. "She said they chose to work with humans because both sides got something from it."

"A wise observation." Bellanotta paused as the trees thinned, revealing glimpses of distant peaks. "Though the relationship between humans and Pokemon runs deeper than surface transactions."

"How so?"

"Some say we share an ancient bond, dating back to when the world was young. But such tales are best saved for evening feasts, where Elders might guide the discussion."

The forest canopy opened further, patches of sky replacing the dense leaves. Streaks of brilliant oranges and pinks had hidden most of the stars from view, a prelude to the coming sunrise that was beautiful to behold. Eleanor noticed how the plant life around them had changed — shorter trees, hardier shrubs, more exposed rock.

"What about trainers?" Puck settled on Eleanor's shoulder. "The humans at the house mentioned something about 'a trained 'mon' that they'd need to watch out for. What would a Pokemon be trained to do?"

"Ah." Bellanotta's tone shifted slightly. "That is one path among many. Some humans seek to test their bonds through battle, while others prefer quieter pursuits."

"Battle?" Eleanor frowned. "You mean like war?"

"It is... complicated. Perhaps we should rest here. The climb grows steeper ahead."

The path wound higher, each step bringing them closer to the mountain's shoulders. Eleanor's legs burned from the climb, but she forgot her discomfort when they crested the ridge.

Three colossal stone spires pierced the morning sky, their weathered faces catching the sunrise in sheets of rose-gold. The tallest sister stood in the center, her crown lost in the clouds. To either side, her companions maintained their ancient vigil, their massive forms creating deep shadows across the forest below.

"The Three Sisters," Bellanotta's voice carried a hint of reverence. "They have watched over these lands since before the first human's drew breath."

Eleanor stared at the impossible structures. Wind-carved hollows in the rock faces resembled stern eyes, giving the impression of ancient beings frozen in stone. Each sister bore distinctive markings; deep grooves that spiraled up their flanks like the patterns on sacred totems.

"Did Pokemon make those marks?" Puck drifted closer to Eleanor's ear, his glow dimming to match the solemnity of the moment.

"No." Bellanotta's cotton crown swayed in the mountain breeze. "The Sisters emerged from the earth fully formed, in the time when Arceus first shaped the world."

The morning light strengthened, revealing more details. Crystalline deposits scattered across the rock faces caught the sun, transforming the Sisters into beings of living light. At their bases, ancient trees had taken root in the stone itself, their gnarled trunks wrapped around the rock like guardian serpents.

Eleanor felt small beneath their towering presence, yet somehow protected. The Sisters seemed to radiate an energy that reminded her of summer afternoons in her mother's garden — warm, alive, watching.

"The path to Annwn lies between them." Bellanotta gestured toward a narrow pass that wound between the stone giants. "Few find it without a guide, fewer still survive the crossing alone."

Bellanotta's cotton crown swayed with a steady rhythm as she repeated the instructions she'd been drilling them in all morning.

"Remember — the first Sister guards against those who would bring harm. You must approach with open palms and peaceful hearts."

Eleanor nodded, her fingers twisting in the hem of her dress.

"Open palms, peaceful hearts."

"The second Sister tests your truth. Speak only what you know to be real."

"Only what we know is real," Puck echoed, his glow shifting to a deep purple of concentration.

"And the third?" Bellanotta's gaze fixed on Eleanor.

"The third Sister demands courage, but not foolishness." Eleanor closed her eyes, reciting carefully. "We must trust our hearts to guide us through."

"Good." Bellanotta drifted closer. "Now tell me — what must you never do?"

"Never look back once we've started," Eleanor and Puck answered together.

"And?"

"Never separate, no matter what we see or hear," Eleanor added.

"Even if it seems like the other person is in danger," Puck finished.

"This is where I must leave you." Bellanotta's light dimmed slightly. "The path ahead belongs to those who seek Annwn's embrace."

"Thank you for everything you've taught us." Eleanor's throat tightened.

"Your kindness will not be forgotten." Bellanotta's cotton crown brushed Eleanor's cheek in a feather-light caress. "May Arceus guide your steps."

Puck's glow flickered between colors — gratitude, anxiety, determination. He darted forward to hover before their guide. "We'll make you proud."

"You already have, little ones, for it was my daughter you saved from the flood." Bellanotta began to drift back down the path they'd climbed, leaving a stunned Eleanor and Puck behind. "Remember what I taught you. The Sisters do not offer second chances."

Eleanor watched until Bellanotta faded into the morning mist. Beside her, Puck's wings hummed with nervous energy. Eleanor squared her shoulders, adjusting the weight of the pack. The morning air carried hints of snow from the peaks above, mixing with the warmer breeze from the valley they'd left behind. She breathed deeply, tasting both on her tongue.

"Ready?" She held out her hand.

"As long as we'll be together." Puck landed in her palm, his glow settling into a steady rose-pink.

"Always." Eleanor lifted him to her shoulder where he could better see the path ahead. "Mom used to say that every journey starts with a single step."

"What if we take it at the same time?" Puck's wings hummed with quiet energy and he floated down to the ground beside her. He looked so impossibly small when he wasn't drifting at eye level. "Then neither of us has to be taking the first step alone. We'll take it like proper partners!"

Eleanor smiled, touched by his suggestion. "Count of three?"

"One." Puck's glow brightened.

"Two." Eleanor shifted her weight forward.

"Three."

Their synchronized step carried them across the invisible threshold. The air changed subtly, becoming charged with possibility. Behind them, the forest where they'd learned to survive felt suddenly distant, despite it only being one step further away.

The path ahead wound between ancient boulders, each worn smooth by countless seasons. Eleanor's sandals found purchase on the weathered stone as they began their ascent. With each step, the Three Sisters grew more imposing, their massive forms blocking out sections of sky.

Puck hummed a quiet melody, one they'd learned from the Eldegoss during their preparations. The simple tune helped steady their pace as the climb steepened. Eleanor joined in, her voice blending with his bell-like tones.

They moved forward together, neither rushing nor hesitating. The morning sun warmed their backs as they walked, casting their shadow ahead of them — a single shape moving with purpose toward whatever waited beyond the Sisters' ancient guard.

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Loose stones clattered down the mountainside as Eleanor tested her footing. The morning sun had burned away the mist, revealing a steep expanse of weathered granite. She paused to catch her breath, fishing a handful of dried berries from her pack.

"There's an easier path about twenty feet up," Puck called, his pink glow bright against the blue sky. He zipped down to accept a berry from Eleanor's palm. "See that ledge that looks like a sleeping Zigzagoon?"

"Good eye." Eleanor popped a berry in her mouth, savoring the tart sweetness while studying the route Puck indicated. "Think it'll hold?"

"Already checked!" Puck darted back up, trailing sparkles in his wake. "It's wide enough for your feet, and there are plenty of handholds."

Eleanor secured her pack and started climbing, her handmade sandals finding purchase on the rough stone. The viny strips around her ankles, reinforced with Puck's silk, held firm as she navigated the tricky sections.

"Little more to your right," Puck guided, his glow shifting to a deeper rose as he concentrated. "That black stone with the white stripe is loose."

The sun warmed Eleanor's back as she worked her way up, muscles burning deeply from the effort. A cool mountain breeze carried the sharp scent of pine and something sweeter — perhaps mountain flowers blooming in hidden crevices.

"Water break?" Puck suggested as Eleanor reached the ledge.

She nodded, carefully settling against the sun-warmed rock. Their water pouch was still nearly full from the forest, though they'd need to find a water source in the mountains if this journey took too long. Eleanor took a measured sip, then held up a drop for Puck on her fingertip.

"We're making good time," Puck noted, his wings humming contentedly as he perched on her knee. "Much faster than when we started."

"That's because you're getting better at spotting paths." Eleanor grinned, stretching her legs. "Remember when you thought that patch of moss was solid ground?"

"Hey," Puck mumbled, glow flickering with embarrassment, "it looked very stable from above!"

Their laughter echoed off the mountainside, mingling with the cry of a distant bird. Eleanor stood, brushing dust from her clothes and rechecking her pack straps. Puck resumed his scouting position, leading the way toward their next resting spot.

A shadow fell across the ledge.

Eleanor looked up to meet the gleaming eyes of a Sneasel, its claws glinting in the sun. The Pokémon's feathers bristled as it sized them up from its perch above.

"Battle." Its voice rasped like steel on stone. "Now."

Puck's glow shifted to sickly yellow.

"Run!" he yelled.

Eleanor scrambled backward as the Sneasel launched itself down. Claws scraped rock where she'd stood moments before. She half-climbed, half-slid down the slope they'd just conquered, loose stones cascading around her.

"You can't escape." The Sneasel's voice carried over the clatter of falling rocks. "Fight me!"

Eleanor's sandal caught on a jutting stone. She stumbled, caught herself against the cliff face. Her palms scraped raw against granite. Blood welled up, making her grip slippery.

"This way!" Puck darted toward a narrow crevice.

The Sneasel's claws raked the air inches from Eleanor's head. She dove for the gap, squeezing through. Sharp edges tore at her arms. Her pack snagged, forcing her to wrench it free.

"Cowards!" The Sneasel's fury echoed through the rocks. "Face me properly!"

Eleanor's chest burned as she ran. Puck's glow pulsed faster, dimmer, his fear bleeding through. The crevice twisted left, right, narrowing. Behind them, the scrape of claws on stone grew closer.

"Battle me!" The voice held dark promise. "Or I'll make you regret running."

The crevice dead-ended at a sheer drop. Eleanor pressed against the cold stone, heart hammering as loose pebbles skittered over the edge into empty space. Behind them, the Sneasel's claws clicked closer, echoing off narrow walls.

"Eleanor..." Puck's glow flickered, wings trembling.

She cupped her hands around him protectively, feeling his tiny form shaking. The cut on her palm left a smear of blood on his downy fuzz.

"Come out, come out." The Sneasel's voice rasped closer. "No more running. Face me like a proper trainer."

Eleanor's breath caught. Her fingers tightened slightly around Puck, then relaxed. Something in her posture shifted, spine straightening as her eyes narrowed.

"What are you thinking?" Puck whispered, noting the sudden change. "Eleanor?"

She didn't answer, but her jaw set in a determined line. The fear drained from her face, replaced by an expression Puck had never seen before — calculating, focused.

The Sneasel's shadow stretched across the ground before them.

"Last chance. Battle me, or I'll make the choice for you."

Eleanor's fingers brushed the rough stone wall, testing. Her other hand still cradled Puck close to her chest, where he could feel her heartbeat steady and slow despite their desperate position.

"Eleanor?" Puck tried again, his glow shifting to match her calm.

She squeezed his tiny form once, gentle but firm — a silent request for trust. Then she turned to face the approaching Pokémon, her stance wide and balanced on the narrow ledge.

The Sneasel emerged from the shadows, claws extended. "Finally decided to—"

"No." Eleanor's voice rang out, clear and steady.

Rage twisted the Sneasel's face into an ugly sneer.

"You dare deny me? You will fight, or you will perish."

"Then I choose death," Eleanor spoke with clear conviction, meeting the Sneasel's gaze.

"What?!" Puck squeaked, sounding about two seconds away from fainting. "Lets not do that Eleanor! Pick a better plan!"

"You heard me," Eleanor didn't break the Sneasel's stare, not even to blink. "If the options are battle or death, then we choose death."

"Oh?" The Sneasel didn't step any closer but it seemed to grow in menace where it stood, eyeing her carefully. "But you've got a perfectly good Pokemon to battle for you. Or perhaps you could grab a rock, just there at your feet?" It gestured somewhere towards the ground, but Eleanor continued to meet its gaze with defiance.

"Eleanor, what are you doing?" Puck was beginning to struggle in her hand, and she gently closed her fist around him, trapping him there. Her other hand she raised out until her empty palm was stretched towards the Sneasel.

It howled, then began to charge.

Puck's scream seemed to amplify off the stone cliffs around them, yet Eleanor didn't move. Her raised hand shook slightly, her mouth set in a tight frown.

Ten steps away. Puck began to shake violently.

Five steps away. Eleanor closed her eyes.

Right before the Sneasel overtook them in a crash that would surely carry the three of them over the cliff and to their deaths, it began to glow.

Its form wavered, like heat rising from summer pavement, then burst into a thousand points of brilliant, golden light. The radiance swirled upward, dancing through the mountain air before dissolving into sparkles that drifted away on the breeze.

"What just happened?" Puck's glow flickered rapidly between yellow and pink, his tiny form buzzing with confusion.

Eleanor slumped against the rock wall, letting out a shaky breath.

"The First Sister. Bellanotta said we'd be tested, remember? Something about proving our hearts. 'The First Sister guards against those who bring harm to the valley.' We had to prove we wouldn't fight."

"You mean that whole chase was—" Puck's glow flashed crimson. "We could have died!"

"But we didn't." Eleanor grinned, sliding down to sit on the ledge. "And look, I'm not even bleeding anymore."

Puck zipped around her head, his color shifting between angry red and worried purple.

"You knew it was a test? This whole time?"

"Not until it called me a trainer. That's when I remembered what Bellanotta said about the markers and the Sister's tests." She reached up to gentle pat Puck's wings. "I don't think a real Pokémon would force someone to battle like that. And I've never heard them call me a trainer before."

"You..." Puck's glow stuttered between colors before settling on bright pink. A tiny laugh escaped him, like tinkling bells. "You figured it out before I did!"

"I guess I did!" Eleanor joined his laughter, the sound echoing off the canyon walls. "Though I was terrified right up until that last moment."

"Next time," Puck landed on her shoulder, his pink glow warm against her cheek, "maybe tell me when you solve the puzzle?"

"Promise." Eleanor held up her pinky finger, and Puck wrapped his tiny wing around it.

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Eleanor's sandals scraped against loose shale as she navigated another steep incline. The setting sun cast long shadows across the mountainside, turning the rocky landscape into a forest of looming shapes. Her legs trembled with each step.

"There." Puck's voice came out thin and reedy, his usual bell-like tones dulled by exhaustion. He drifted ahead, his pink glow barely visible in the dying light. "Cave entrance."

Eleanor managed a grunt of acknowledgment, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. The cave mouth gaped dark against the mountainside, but right now any shelter would do.

Inside, Eleanor slumped against the rough wall while Puck performed a sluggish patrol of the space. His glow illuminated weathered stone walls and a relatively clean floor.

"No prints." Eleanor ran her fingers over the ground. "No nests."

"Good." Puck settled on her shoulder, his wings drooping. "Can't take another confrontation today."

Eleanor gathered what little dry brush she could find near the entrance, arranging it into a makeshift bed. Her hands shook as she worked.

"Being watched." She kept her voice low. "Feel it?"

"Since lunch." Puck's glow flickered between pink and sickly yellow. "Second Sister's probably laughing at us jumping at shadows."

Eleanor curled up on the brush pile, cupping Puck close to her chest. His warmth barely penetrated the mountain chill.

"At least the First Sister was direct about it."

"Sleep." Puck's glow dimmed to barely a spark. "I'll wake you if anything happens."

"No." Eleanor tucked him deeper into her grip. "We rest together. No being a hero, Puck."

Puck's quiet chime of laughter faded into silence as exhaustion claimed them both.

Eleanor's eyes fluttered open to sunlight streaming through familiar curtains. Her bedroom — not the cave. Cave? She'd never lived in a cave. What a strange thought. The walls held their usual pale yellow warmth, family photos arranged just as she remembered.

"Good morning, my little squire." Dad's voice came from the doorway. He looked different — clean-shaven, pressed shirt, no dirt under his fingernails.

"Dad?" Her tongue felt thick, the word coming out slurred. Something tugged at the edge of her memory.

"You were having quite the dream." He sat on the edge of her bed, his weight making the mattress dip. "All this talk about mountains and magical creatures."

A flash of yellow darted past her window. Eleanor jerked upright, but her father's hand on her shoulder felt heavy, keeping her in place.

"Just the barn cat," he said. "You know how it likes to climb the walkway outside."

"But I thought..." The air shimmered with an odd pink glow. Eleanor blinked and it vanished.

Dad's smile stretched too wide. "Thought what, Ellie belly?"

Eleanor sat in her bed, unable to articulate her fear. The remnants of the dream slowly drained from her mind, and Dad reached down to wipe away a tear as it trailed down her cheek. When had she started crying?

Dad stood up, smiling warmly at her.

He usually slept in. He worked long into the early morning to observe and chart the stars. Why was he up so early?

She watched him putter around the room, getting dressed. He had the same pale skin, so much unlike her own, and the same bright grey eyes she remembered. Remembered?

She shook her head, dazed.

Slowly Eleanor rose from the bed and padded through their cabin on soft feet. Dad made his way into their small galley kitchen and she followed after him in a trance. The panoramic views of their Fire-watch Station looked out across the vast Oregon desert, painted rainbow hues in the morning sunshine.

The smell of nectar drifted through the room. Eleanor turned towards the table where a plate of blueberry pancakes waited. Her eyes went wide, her mouth started watering.

Warm food.

She scrambled over to the table, taking a seat and digging in.

"Thanks Dad. I didn't know you could cook—" Eleanor froze, bite held halfway to her mouth. Something about the blueberry on her fork was all wrong. It didn't look like a blueberry at all. "…Oran…." Eleanor stared at it, the world beginning to melt away.

The radio in the corner crackled to life, making Eleanor jump in her seat.

"You won't fill your belly by staring at it, my little squire. Eat up! Uncle Ben is coming over to pick you up today." Dad sat across their camp table from her, nursing a steaming cup of coffee from an oddly bright pink mug.

Eleanor began to eat dutifully, before her father's words sunk in. She almost dropped her fork in excitement.

"Uncle Ben is coming? Is it Mom?!" Eleanor knocked over her seat as she stood, face lighting up. "Did Mom get better?!"

"Eat up," Dad gestured at her plate indulgently and Eleanor righted her seat, wolfing down her breakfast without further protest. Mom was getting better! She kicked her feet happily against her chair.

Dad opened his mouth to speak when the radio abruptly caught a signal. The suddenly clear sound of a young boy's voice crackled through the room.

"Eleanor? Eleanor, its Puck! Please—"

Dad crossed the room in two quick steps and turned the radio off.

Eleanor felt horror ripple through her chest, and brought a hand up to rest against her racing heart. Why was her heart beating so fast? What was happening to her?

Dad set his mug in the sink and hummed cheerfully, donning his work coat. He walked through the door onto the wooden boardwalk around their cabin, probably getting ready to climb down the staircase and warm up the truck.

Eleanor sat paralyzed at the table, gripped by a feeling of unease that she couldn't define.

"Better hurry! Don't want to be caught dreaming the morning away!" His voice carried through the screen door.

Dreams? Yes….they were day-dreams, weren't they? Eleanor put a shaking hand to her forehead, and wiped away the sweat slowly starting to gather there.

Dad….Dad never cooked breakfast. And who was Puck? Why did the name make her heart race? Something inside of her knew instinctively that it wasn't the Puck from her favorite Shakespearean play. This was a Puck she knew.

But where had she met a Puck before?

She scanned the cabin where her dad lived, searching for reassurance in the well-known surroundings. Instead, she experienced the overwhelming sensation that everything was somehow out of place.

Dreams? No….

The radio burst to life without being touched and Eleanor stared at its glowing dial. The static grew louder and louder, until it seemed to fill the entire room.

They weren't dreams.

Were they?

The certainty slipped away like water through her fingers. Her eyes trailed down to a book that lay next to the radio, discarded in a moment of haste.

She could only make out a single word on the spine. Annwn.

The static seemed to swell before cutting off into perfect, defeaning silence.

In a trance, she walked across the room and picked up the book.

Eleanor's fingers trembled as she cracked it open, letting the pages part naturally until the blank white sheets were revealed. Inside, pressed between its pages, lay a single dried flower — impossibly delicate, impossibly familiar. The petals held a faint shimmer of pink, even after all this time.

"This is you." Her voice cracked. "Puck, this is you."

The cabin walls rippled like water. Her father's footsteps on the boardwalk outside grew distant, hollow.

"My little squire?" His voice called, growing further and further away. "We need to leave now."

Eleanor pressed the flower to her heart, memories flooding back. Puck's first attempts at making her laugh. His determined practice at speaking human words. The way his glow changed with every emotion.

The promise they'd made.

It swelled inside of her, just like that first time in the woods. She squeezed her eyes shut, focusing inward, chasing that golden feeling. It moved and Eleanor raced after it, until the feeling danced within reach and she grasped onto it tightly.

Every part of her being flooded with a liquid warmth, spreading out from her heart until it reached the tips of her toes.

Puck.

It pulsed.

Her partner, Puck.

The warmth grew.

Her best friend. He would never leave her.

She opened her eyes with a gasp and the world around her began to dissolve, revealing glimpses of stone walls beyond.

"You're not my Dad." Eleanor stood straighter, even as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Dad left me. He chose his research over me. My real Dad would never make me breakfast."

The cabin twisted, its walls bleeding into mist. A large, tapir-like creature materialized before her, floating in the air amid swirling rosy vapor. The smoke seemed to curl from its head as it regarded her with ancient eyes.

"I know this hurts." Eleanor's voice grew stronger. "But Puck is real. Our friendship is real. And I choose that over any dream you can give me."

The flower in her hands began to glow with a familiar pink light. Eleanor felt the warmth of it spread through her chest, chasing away the last wisps of illusion. She closed her eyes and clung to the warm, golden thread inside her that connected to her best friend.

"I choose Puck."

When she opened her eyes again, Puck lay in her palm, sleeping fitfully. The dark, cold walls of the cave stretched around them, barely visible in Puck's soft light.

Eleanor looked towards the entrance and saw the purple and pink tapir floating there. It stared at her, blinking slowly, before it wrapped itself in a veil of pink smoke. Then it was gone.

Eleanor closed her eyes and clung to Puck's tiny form, laying down with exhaustion. The Second Sister had deemed her worthy.

"This is real," she whispered. "This is real."

They slept.