Ivysaur wandered in front of Cashe, Hatenna perched happily on his head as Charmeleon walked beside him. The pokemon were caught up in a strange and disjointed conversation that moved in a cyclical fashion, with each pokemon speaking in order, one after another.

“Ivysaur.”

“Hat!”

“Char. Charmeleon.”

Mankey and Magneton were similarly out of their pokeballs, enjoying the sun of the afternoon and keeping an eye out for wild pokemon. Only Goomy, Omanyte, and Slowpoke stayed in their balls, the sun and heat difficult for their constitution.

Cashe sympathized with them. Away from the cool winds of the beach, Alola was sweltering. Route 2 stretched on forever in both directions. The route was still busy, though it was starting to thin out as trainers moved off it and into the bush to catch pokemon, or they slowed due to the heat and physical activity. Cashe and Emilia, having started their journey in the late summer from Pallet Town, were used to the stress of the journey. Lindon, however, was not.

“Why couldn’t we challenge the gym in Hau’oli City?” He whined, holding up the brim of his floppy sun hat so it would cover more of his body with shade. ‘

“You said so yourself, remember?” Emilia said, walking over to the side of the road to let Lindon rest in the shade, “We need to fill out our teams and battle other trainers.”

Cashe followed the pair out of the sun, leaning against the side of a tree in order to cool off, the pokemon setting up a loose perimeter to ward off any aggressive wild pokemon. He could see waves of heat distorting the air over the black asphalt of the road like a barbeque at a cookout. Had they really been walking over that? They would need to take more breaks in order to avoid heat stroke and exhaustion.

Cashe slumped down to the ground, the rough bark of the tree pulling on his shirt uncomfortably as he slid down it to sit at its base. He reached into his backpack and pulled out sunscreen, adding another layer before tossing it to Lindon.

“Don’t forget,” Cashe warned, reaching back into his backpack for food and drink, “The sun will hurt you faster than any pokemon.”

He let his eyes wander as Emilia and Lindon applied sunscreen. Even only a few meters off the paved road, Cashe could see pokemon wandering through the grass. The Poke Rangers were quite thorough in Alola, especially here. The long grass was not too long and the trees that lined the road were pruned and kept well away from the road itself. Pokemon had a hard time remaining hidden because of it, which kept the new trainers in the area much safer than they otherwise would be.

Even the pokemon around them were small, young, and weak. Cashe saw a few Smeargle sitting in the grass not far from them, drawing in the dirt with their tails. Cashe had half a mind to catch one as Smeargle would make an excellent supporting pokemon with its ability to learn any and every move. The only problem was that it had to learn those moves from other pokemon, and none of them had anything special for the sketch pokemon to learn. Ultimately he decided not to use any of his pokeballs now. He could always come back later.

Not far from the Smeargle, Spearow and Alolan Rattata fought casually over the scattered scraps an absent minded trainer had left behind. It didn’t look like they were even using any moves, just calling out their own names at each other and making the occasional dash towards the discarded sandwich.

As Cashe watched, a tiny Cutiefly landed on his arm.

“Anyone want a Cutiefly?” Cashe said as the little pokemon watched his water bottle carefully. It was only a few inches in size, maybe four at the most, with a tiny, yellow, fuzzy body, six spindly legs, and a pair of rapidly buzzing insect wings.

“I need slow pokemon,” Lindon said with a shake of his head.

“Maybe. It depends,” Emilia said. She took her pokedex out of her pocket, careful not to started the tiny pokemon as Cashe offered it poured it some water, “Hold still.”

Cashe paused mid-pour and Emilia’s pokedex dinged. She gave him a nod and he finished pouring water into a small cup, offering it to the Cutiefly.

“Nah,” Emilia said in disappointment, “It doesn’t have Sticky Web.”

The little Cutiefly hopped forward and began eagerly bathing in the small cup. Cashe grinned. He had expected it to drink.

“Can’t you teach it Sticky Web?” Lindon said

Emilia shook her head, “It’s an inherited move only, and it has to come from a different pokemon line, so it's rare to find in the wild.”

Cashe nodded. He knew of Egg Moves from the pokemon games. It turned out there were many more moves pokemon could inherit from their parents that were not ever present as Egg Moves in the games, though most were moves they could learn in other ways. His Mankey was a prime example of this, having a large movepool thanks to the breeding efforts of whichever trainer was responsible for her parents.

“Does anyone want to search the grass around here for pokemon?” Cashe said, taking out his own pokedex and looking up the known pokemon of Route 2, “It says here that there are Growlithe on this route, and Hawlucha.”

“Hawlucha won’t be here until way later in the season,” Emilia said, shaking her head, “They only show up when the Poke Rangers get too busy with other things and let them slip past their notice. And if you find a Growlithe out here you might just be the luckiest man alive.”

“Are they rare?”

“Wild Growlithe basically legendaries,” Lindon answered, “They’re like Chansey.”

Cashe nodded. Caught and bred en masse because of how useful they were for humans. “All right then.”

Cashe stood, packing away his things. The little Cutiefly made a chirp of protest as its bath went away, but didn’t do much else, zipping away at startling speeds.

They returned to the road and the hot sun, marching along in relative silence to conserve energy, the only conversation the ongoing one between their pokemon. The journey was uneventful, the route straight and well maintained. The afternoon turned to evening and a small motel appeared on the horizon.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Oh thank Arceus,” Lindon sighed at the sight, “I need air conditioning.”

Cashe grunted in agreement. It was certainly good business for the motel, sitting exactly one day’s march from Hau’oli City. No doubt many trainers would head straight there on sight. Just having a shower would be worth it, even if they charge an exorbitant amount of credits.

“We’re not going to a motel our first night out of the city,” Emilia said, an amused look on her face.

“What? I want to feel cool again!: Lindon complained.

“I could use a shower,” Cashe said, “We all could, really.”

“We have water type pokemon for that,” Emilia shook her head, “Besides, there is a good reason to camp out tonight.”

“What’s that?” Cashe grumbled.

“That.” Emilia pointed at a glowing sign that was just possible to read at their current distance. Cashe squinted.

“No vacancy.” He sighed, “We may as well set up camp now, then.” He could already see several spots along the road that were flat and bare, likely the camp sites of many trainers from years past who had similar realizations upon seeing the distant motel.

“No, I’ve got a much better idea,” Emilia grinned, moving her hand to point at a small, stone road that ran perpendicular to the main route and curved up a small hill. Cashe frowned. It was poorly maintained and narrow, with grass growing between the stones used for the road. Even from a distance and in the dim light of the evening, it looked sketchy.

“Where does that lead?” Cashe said.

Emilia’s grin widened, “The old Hau'oli Cemetery.”

***

“Why did we agree to this,” Cashe said, eyes scanning the area surrounding their small campsite. Ghost pokemon were notorious for their interference with humans, even the young and weak ones. A cemetery like this was bound to have a few.

“You are brave adventurers,” Emilia said with a strained smile. The atmosphere was getting even to her, “You look forward to a challenge.”

“I didn’t agree to this!” Lindon complained. He was already in his sleeping bag, cover pulled right up to his eyes. He had hopped in only seconds after Slowpoke sprayed off the day’s grime from him, taking the minimum amount of time to dry off before retreating into the perceived safety of his sleeping bag.

Cashe wasn’t sure he blamed him. The cemetery was creepy.

Entering it had been difficult. Mentally at least. The cemetery was closed off and unmaintained. A rusty gate stretched across the width of the road, barring any visitors from accessing it. The stone road was uneven and covered in grass from years of lackluster maintenance and the fields on either side of it were wild and unkempt.

A low, stone wall surrounded the cemetery, crumbling and dilapidated. Loose stones and caved in sections of the wall made the gate obsolete. Moss grew in every crack the wall had and creeping vines layered every inch, digging into the stone and damaging it further.

On the other side of the wall, things were just as bad. The paths between gravestones were covered in long, tough grass that scratched at Cashe’s legs and managed to poke under his clothes. The gravestones themselves were hidden by the growth, popping up almost out of nowhere to be tripped over and bruise his shins. One stone, belonging to Dr C. Westphal, managed to collide with him multiple times as they searched for a proper campsite.

The visual of the cemetery, however, was not what caused Cashe his unease. It was the sound.

Every place Cashe visited on the Alolan island was noisy. In the city it was the ambience of people living, going about their daily lives. On Route 2 it was the stir of wilde pokemon, on the beach it was the crash of waves.

In the cemetery it was silent.

Cashe could hear every rustle of grass and breath of wind. The area lay still, even the conversation of their pokemon dying down to nothing. The silence blanketed the cemetery, its presence muting sounds as they came up, making them hollow and dull. Even his own voice was foreign to him, almost unrecognizable to his ears as it left his throat.

There was a weight, intangible and omnipotent, exuding through the area. It was in the shift of his feet and the hunch of Emilia’s back, in the silence of their pokemon and the frightened eyes of their young companion.

They ate a cold meal, no one complaining about the lack of cooking for the evening. Creating a fire here would be wrong. Profane.They did not speak any further as they ate or when setting up the camp. Before long, Emilia and Lindon were heading to bed, the sky already darkening with the setting sun.

Lindon was already tossing around in his sleeping bag, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep. Emilia simply pulled a blanket over herself and lay down against Charmeleon, who was curled up in a ball around her.

Cashe had first watch with Ivysaur and Mankey.

The sun set and the skies darkened more, clear, but lacking even a single star, the moon nowhere to be seen. The air cooled as the sun disappeared behind the trees surrounding the cemetery, a fine mist condensing into being as the humid air cooled. It rolled around them, lazy and slow, obscuring the environment just beyond the edge of their camp.

“Ivysaur, keep an eye out,” Cashe said as the evening darkened further. His voice split the air like a gunshot in the silence, even though he spoke in a whisper. Ivysaur did not reply.

Cashe looked at his feet, watching the swirling patterns of mist pass around his legs. To his right, Lindon was covered completely in it, the young boy somehow already fast asleep.

“Seriously, keep an eye out,” Cashe muttered, glancing around the camp again. Ivysaur twitched where he sat. Cashe’s eyes narrowed. Was he asleep? How had he fallen asleep? They were on first watch.

Cashe blinked, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Why was he so tired? Wasn’t it just after dark?

He blinked again, rubbing his eyes to keep himself awake. Maybe Ivysaur had the right idea. Maybe it would be fine to shut them. Just for a minute. Just long enough to get a quick rest. It had been a long day…

Cashe shook his head, banishing the thoughts. He shivered at the sudden cold from the setting sun. Maybe it would be a good idea to start a fire. He could see his breath as air left his mouth, combining with the endlessly swirling mists.

He pulled his backpack over to him, searching through it for kindling. He found it and put it to the side. Now he would just need some dry grass or wood and-

He paused as a noise broke the silence of the night. Footsteps. Barely audible, even in the quiet, but present.

Cashe’s head snapped up. There was nothing strange about the camp. Nothing moved but the drifting mists. But the sound of footsteps was still there, coming from just out of sight.

Cashe stood to see further, but all he could see were the white clouds of mist around him. The footsteps stopped. He shivered in place, the air dropping another degree or two with the action. He should start a fire. That wouldn’t be a bad idea.

He sat, pulling his backpack over to him and searching for the kindling. It wasn’t there. It was supposed to be in his backpack. Or was it in Emilia’s? He couldn’t remember, his thoughts muddled from his exhaustion, as foggy as the world around him. He was so tired. The grass rustled at the edge of camp, but he couldn’t be bothered to check it out.

Closing his eyes just for a moment would be fine. He needed the rest. Mankey could keep watch. She was just sitting there, eyes wide open, staring at the empty spot where the fire would normally be. She didn’t look away, even when the footsteps neared.

“Mankey,” Cashe whispered, “Keep an eye out, just in case.”

Mankey didn’t respond to him, but her eyes reddened. She was angry for some reason. That was okay. Mankey were always angry.

Cashe lay down to his side, his arm scraping against a small box. What was the kindling doing out? He would need to put that away. He pushed at it, but couldn’t find the motivation to even pick it up. The mist swirled around him, the patterns of flowing in graceful arcs, almost hypnotic in their movement.

He could barely keep his eyes open, but he didn’t want to anyway. He shut them, letting his weary body drift into sleep, even with the sound of footsteps growing louder in his ears.

*****