“Where do we start our search?” With my hands pressed to my sides, I try to avoid a strained gasp.

The hotel is already behind us and Route 4 is getting closer and closer. The harbour city won’t be enclosing us with its buildings and offers for much longer and I wonder if Lillie and Conia have already left or are still waiting by the airship.

“Paniola Town and Royal Avenue will house information if Rayquaza has turned up there,” Amethio replies. “It will also have left traces on the mountain.” The Rotom Phone in his hands makes clear he has a map of this island in front of him.

“Does that mean we’re going to search the entire island?” I raise my eyebrows. “Just to make sure we don’t miss any traces of Rayquaza?”

“Is that a problem?” His tone isn’t sharp, but it carries something that makes me instantly raise my hands.

“No. I’m just amazed you’re being so thorough.”

It’s no secret that many adventurers explore something and miss half of it because they were too lazy to look in every corner. That’s why discoveries are always made in places you already know. The fact the Explorers are prepared to go to such lengths just to find a clue shows they are serious. They care about finding Rayquaza. I could be a perfect fit for this team.

Meanwhile, Amethio no longer answers me. My statement has been noted and tucked away somewhere in the back of his mind, where it no longer plays a role. What remains is the path through the town, the end of which is dotted with a large building emblazoned with “D.R.I.” in huge letters. If I were alone, this would be an interesting stop. As it is, however, it is just one of many buildings that we leave behind.

The fresh, warm air doesn’t make the walk strenuous, but it saps the energy with which I started the day. We don’t use any means of transport and the sun is the only companion I have apart from Amethio for an eternity. It is only when an ungracious ascent begins that a sigh escapes me and Amethio’s gaze settles briefly on me. Most of the time, his mind seems to be elsewhere. The heat doesn’t cause him to break out in a sweat.

“You’re probably used to warm weather,” I try to start a conversation again, endeavouring to ignore my surroundings.

“It’s often warmer in some regions. Paldea, for example.”

At least he answers me, so I can actually concentrate on something else. “Paldea... I wonder what Pokémon are there. Is your ... knight from there?”

He raises his eyebrows briefly before realising my question. “Ceruledge? Yes.”

I nod, half in thought. Watching the Pokémon of other regions and recognising the differences sounds like a lot of fascination. In the end, I’ve already been surprised by a Grimer here that I hadn’t identified in this way before. There must be more of these different Pokémon of the same basic type.

It’s only the thought that gets me through the walk, so that the full two hours of walking ultimately only seem like thirty minutes. The sun is now at its highest point and Amethio dares to shield his eyes and take a look at the sky.

“We’ll rest here.” His statement makes me purse my lips. A quick glance at the Rotom Phone supports my expectation.

“Why? It’s only two o’clock. We could keep looking around.”

Amethio’s eyelids lower before he nods his head and points to the small farm in front of us. “That’s Paniola. We’ll ask questions here and see.”

I have to look at the farm again. Sure enough, the place is big. There are six houses and a Pokémon Center here, but it just doesn’t give the impression of a community that should have its own name. It’s reminiscent of a tiny settlement where people only stay for a short time before moving on, not a village.

Fences clarify that this area belongs to someone and as the trampled earth beneath my feet becomes a little more even, I even believe for a moment that something like a small village surrounded by tall grasses indeed exists here.

The first house turns out to be Amethio’s destination and while he tells me curtly that he will book us rooms, I turn my attention to my own interests. As long as Amethio is busy, my little Pokémon research takes centre stage. If I want to become a professor, then I should get to know as many Pokémon as possible. After all, there are probably a dozen that I don’t know yet.

So it drags me back to the high meadows in front of the fence that marks Paniola’s entrance. It’s easy to spot Pokémon in such good light. I just have to be careful. Still, the stems of grass are waist-high in places and as I venture in, I think I hear it rustling on the other side.

With one hand on Raya’s ball, I sneak ahead – assuming I can ignore the noticeable whispering of the meadow. I hold each breath for a moment before exhaling. Goosebumps spread.

And just as I think the Pokémon must have fled, a brown head appears in front of me. Its snout full of grass, the thing in front of me chews for a moment before narrowing its eyes into slits and snorting. My movements freeze on the spot.

It’s not big, but it reaches up to my chest. Brown fur and light-coloured patches make it barely noticeable. Somehow, it just blends in with the brown trunks of the banyan trees in the background. Only the black mane and the far too long, upright ears give it away.

If I don’t move, it might forget that I exist and just keep on eating. Without knowing what attacks this Pokémon mastered, confronting it would be like committing suicide.

“Mudbray. Donkey Pokémon. Ground-type. The mud on its feet provides enough grip to support its powerful run. If there’s no mud nearby, it eats soil to make mud and stick to its hooves.”

“Shut up!” I hiss to Rotom, but the Pokémon’s snort leaves no room for doubt.

I’m finished.

While the Pokémon jumps forwards, I turn round and take flight. Letting Raya out in this meadow is out of the question. She wouldn’t see anything and might even set fire to the grass. My only option is to run away, and while I chase off like a frightened Pidgey, Mudbray enjoys teasing me – along with my stupid Rotom.

“It may be slow, but it’s very strong. Mudbray can carry about 50 times their own weight. But if you stress them, they wallow in the mud and stop obeying commands.”

“Thanks for the unhelpful information!” I snap back as I jump over the fence within reach and race frantically through Paniola. The houses recede into the background, Amethio rushes past me, and when I finally stumble past the Pokémon Center, I almost land on my stomach in a meadow that only reaches my knees this time.

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“Someone should set up some Miltank here,” I groan, leaning on both hands and bending my upper body forwards. The ground is probably leaving brown stains on my knees.

However, I am not allowed a break as a menacing growl reaches me. I slowly lift my gaze and sweep my eyes across the grass until I spot a small Lillipup at the edge. Head bowed, it looks at me with sparkling eyes, and I can’t deny that my shitty situation has just turned into another disaster.

Before the Pokémon can attack me, I grab Raya’s ball and let her out. Her size and the guttural growl she gives the Lillipup in response make it flinch briefly. However, the desire for war is greater.

In one leap, the mutt leaps towards Raya and my snapping breath commands a hasty “Ember!”. Growlithe complies, intent on shooting down the enemy Pokémon in flight so that it hits the ground as a fireball.

Howls fill my ears and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Fire engulfs the Pokémon’s fur, spreading the charred smell of hair and hot urine. Panicked, I crash onto my bum and slide back. The flaming figure rolls, screams, begs for help, which I can’t give. I don’t know how!

My heart is racing, and the pain in my chest is numbing my senses. Voices are hitting me. Far away. Close. My name comes up. Someone is looking for something. A headache throbs behind my temple and in the next moment, Amethio chases past me and throws a can at the burning Pokémon. Steam spreads and the flames suffocate. What remains is a furless, coal-black creature with pink, fleshy patches of charred flesh peeking out. The breath catches in my throat.

“I-it attacked me and...” Then I killed it.

The image that unfolds before me is clear. The Lillipup is no longer moving.

“It’s alive,” Amethio replies curtly, and before I know it, he’s typing something into his Rotom Phone.

A few seconds later, a nurse rushes out of the nearby Pokémon Center and takes charge of the case. She will probably be able to save the Lillipup. They also helped Raya. But the uncertain heaviness inside remains and doesn’t dissipate, even when the Pokémon is carefully taken away.

“That ... shouldn’t have happened.” It’s a stupid statement. I was playing with fire and, of course, I set something ablaze that is burnable. Raya’s force shouldn’t be underestimated. Yet, it’s something I should have seen coming. Cases like this aren’t uncommon. Countless trainers kill Pokémon when they’re training their own or defending themselves against wild opponents. That was an element I factored in and was sure wouldn’t be a problem. But seeing it with my own eyes is something completely different.

Only when Amethio reaches out to me do I snap out of my mental trance and let him pull me to my feet. The soil on my trousers can be patted off.

“You don’t want to see something like this,” I say. “This world is so beautiful and Pokémon battles are so commonplace that you sometimes forget how much these creatures suffer. How deadly some attacks are and how brutal they unleash.” A groan escapes me. “And some have been devoting themselves to this spectacle since the age of eleven in proper schools.”

“The rules are different there,” Amethio replies tonelessly.

That may be true, but it makes little difference. Official fights have rules. So do unofficial ones. Pokémon are always injured, but none die. All thanks to the resources of healing and countermeasures. Pokémon are a part of society and can be found in many corners of the world. Young trainers who seek strength in the fresh air are often discouraged by their elders. Training in halls with various items is favoured, as are battles with each other. Because then there is refreshment, which avoids the worst.

You solve the problem before it can grow.

But not all young trainers find themselves in training halls, and not everyone enjoys the rules within a battle. Pokémon die. You sometimes read about it in the newspaper and sometimes on the bottom banner of the TV news. Annual statistics claim that 30,000 Pokémon were killed for fun in battles last year alone. The number of unreported cases triples that.

My lungs fill with a deep breath. I can’t change the statistics. My only option is not to encourage it. This Lillipup is another lesson I have to accept.

A quick glance at the Pokémon Center pushes my shoulders down regardless. “I hope it pulls through and makes a good recovery.”

Amethio doesn’t make a sound. But he has the kindness to wait until I feel ready to go with him. I mustn’t let such impressions put me off. Distraction is exactly what I need right now.

“Were you able to book rooms for us?”

He nods casually. “They’re about to serve lunch.”

It’s incredible how quickly time flies. It still seems far too early for lunch and yet I can feel the emptiness in my stomach, as if I’ve skipped breakfast. So I head for the lodging, only to find myself sitting opposite Amethio at a table a little later. His glance at the menu with the various options for feasting captivates my gaze. In those seconds, he seems only half as stoic.

When I look at what’s on offer myself, my attention is ultimately caught by the baked Whiscash, combined with salad and asparagus. Amethio’s interest leads him to a classic steak.

“Have you been with the Explorers for long?” Half in thought, I try to make conversation with him again. If I’m planning on travelling with these people for a while, then it’s good to know who I’ve fallen in with. Sure, the realisation comes rather late, but the escape was more important.

“For a while now,” he replies. His willingness to communicate is fantastic. It feels like I have to pull every damn answer out of his nose.

I tighten my mouth briefly before a sigh escapes me. “And your Pokémon? You seem to have been together for quite a long time, the way you fight together.”

“A few years.”

Conversation with the nearest wall has the same appeal as with Amethio. There must be something he responds to, but all my ideas go in the same direction and everything else seems almost desperate. I have no choice but to inspect him – his even face framed by wavy hair that reaches just below his chin. The fact it is parted in a wild zigzag and the velvety black on one side contrasts sharply with the silver on the other makes me wonder whether he colours his hair or whether Mother Nature takes pleasure in the suffering of others. At the very least, it’s unusually striking and goes well with his violet gaze.

Considering we have the same eye colour, it’s incredible how different the expression behind them looks. Whenever I examine myself in the mirror, it’s a glamour that craves freedom. With Amethio, it seems as if there is a wall behind his gaze, behind which deep whirlpools of unfathomable thoughts spread out.

“What is it?”

His words jerk through my body as I realise that I’ve been staring at him a little too intently. I raise my hands in a flash. “Nothing. I was just wondering how old you are. Probably not much older than me.”

“Nineteen,” he returns and for the first time, I can raise my eyebrows at him in surprise.

When we first met, I already had the feeling that he was no older than twenty. The fact my assumption is correct is a pleasant change. Simultaneously, it only raises more questions.

How long has he been travelling? Did his parents just let him go when he told them he was going to explore the world? Or did he attend a traditional school to prepare him for the world of Pokémon before deciding to explore?

I wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out that he was a Pokémon researcher or even a professor. The trivia surrounding him could be so varied that I would love to get lost in it. Not having friends has pushed my thirst for knowledge into unhealthy territory. It’s wiser to take things step by step and get to know everyone in the troupe slowly.

So far, I at least know the key facts. This team has several headquarters, researches Pokémon, uncovers the secrets of this world and is led by a nineteen-year-old. They are also part of an organisation called Explorers. Slowly a picture emerges and so far I can’t find anything that puts me off. On the contrary, they are in my age group and taste freedom. What more is there to wish for?

In the end, I give up asking Amethio any more questions and leave it at lunch. The peace and quiet that settles on my shoulders in time erases the incident with the Lillipup. At least, the image in my head is now just a vague memory and I can believe with a clear conscience that the nurse at the Pokémon Center will make sure the dog gets back on its feet.

At three o’clock, the dishes are cleared away, and only Amethio and I remain at the table. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he pulls out a key, which he immediately holds in front of me. With one hand outstretched, I take the jingling metal. He spares me the obvious explanation behind it.

“What now? Shall we ask around?” I play with the metal in my fingers for a moment.

“Most of Paniola's citizens are not here today,” Amethio replies. “We can’t question them until tomorrow morning.”

Also means the rest of the day is in my hands. I can do whatever I want. I should probably feed my Pokémon. This place will certainly have a little something. And then it’s a case of washing off the day’s sweat, hanging out the clothes and hoping that the interviews will go well the next day.

It could be so easy.

But the strange cold on my body won’t let up.