SPENCER’S POV

I woke to the sound of a fire crackling on the hearth, and I smiled. No matter how I’d ended up here, no matter where I was going, there’s something deeply reassuring about that sound. It meant security and comfort, even if the weather was positively frightful outside.

And then I opened my eyes further and remembered where I was.

There’s nothing to be afraid of. Frala and Calvin have been taking excellent care of you for the last few days. You can trust them.

I also smelled something pretty good on the stove. My nostrils’ senses seemed more acute than usual, and I felt certain that it was one of my favorite comfort foods from home. This further added to the sense of security, just like my mom was making it for me.

Mom.

She didn’t know where I was. By now it would have been almost a week since my disappearance from human society, and yet I’d barely given any thought to what she must be going through. In my mind’s eye, I could picture all sorts of interviews by the news media, followed by police questioning my fellow skiers surrounding my whereabouts. Hell would be raised.

In all probability, my mother thought I was dead. Even if she didn’t want to admit it, the fact that I’d vanished from the ski resort and that there’d been an avalanche nearby made it easy to connect the dots. The picture revealed wasn’t pretty.

That realization made my throat sore.

“Spencer?” I heard Calvin announce. “It’s time for breakfast.”

“I don’t wanna get up,” I moaned. It was true; last night I may have been restless, but right now I just wanted to stay in the cocoon of blankets for as long as possible, listening to the crackling fire. I wanted to delude myself that I was home.

“Too bad, kid” Frala’s voice snapped. “You have to face the day eventually. Besides, you made a promise to my son. And promises made should be promises kept.”

Reluctantly, I wormed my way out of the blankets and off the couch. I then made my way over to the absorbent pads on which a platter had been set.

A moment later, Frala placed a stack of pancakes at least a foot wide atop said platter. I mean it, they were wider even than her head! They were also covered with several types of berries in a veritable rainbow of colors.

“Eat up,” she ordered.

I leaned over and bit off a piece of pancake. It was thinner than I'd expected and relatively flaky; in other words, just the way I liked my pancakes. With each bite, however, my heart grew heavier. Tears filled my eyes as the taste of fresh maple syrup caressed my tongue.

I would not cry, though - I owed this to myself. I would make the best of this meal. Say what you will about Frala, but she was an amazing cook.

“Thank you” I mumbled when I was about halfway done with my stack. “These are excellent pancakes, Frala.”

The lioness grunted. Perhaps she thought I was trying to butter her up before I tried to do something that would anger her. This was not the case; I merely wanted to express my gratitude without any ulterior motive.

Once we’d finished eating, I remembered exactly why sleep had been so elusive last night.

“We’re going to join the guild!” I exclaimed.

“Yay!” Calvin concurred. “I can’t wait to get a badge and scarf!”

“Well, whatever happens once you join the guild, you’re still going to need to do the dishes” Frala stated sternly. “And that includes you too, Spencer.”

I sighed. You see, when I’m excited about something, it’s difficult for me to focus on anything else. That includes doing the dishes, but discipline is important. Sometimes you have to pause a preferred activity for something you need to do, but don’t want to do.

Frala showed me how to scrub the dishes as a quadruped, which required standing on my hind legs and leaning against the sink. I felt insulted that she felt I was ready to do chores in this form, yet merely eating at the table would be too much for me to handle.

“So have you come up with a team name yet, Calvin?” the lioness asked her son.

“Uh…I’m not sure,” Calvin admitted.

“That’s probably something you should think of on the way there,” Frala replied, shaking her head. “It’s better not to keep anyone waiting at the guild.”

“Mom, it’s a small town,” my fellow Litleo protested. “Do you really think there’ll be a long line to register a new team?”

“You never know.”

‘ “Well, we’d better get a quick start,” Calvin said. “Come on, Spencer - let me show you the way to the guild!”

Once the dishes were all done, we bade Frala farewell. I then followed Calvin out the door and into the freezing morning.

The village was covered in a thick layer of the white stuff. It wasn’t nearly as deep as it had been on the mountain, but it was still more than enough to make walking tiring. I found myself shivering despite my abundant fur coat.

“You’ll get used to it,” Calvin promised. “It’s probably odd to be in public without any clothes on - your fur covers everything that needs to be covered.”

That’s not what I meant, I thought bitterly. It’s pretty damn cold out here!

Anyway, the village was fairly quiet at this hour. The weak winter sun had just risen, so the snow was gleaming the mildest shade of orange. A few Litleo were running through town, bounding forward at an impressive pace.

“What are they running so fast for?” I wondered aloud. “This place isn’t that big, is it?”

“They’re probably training for the next sled race,” Calvin muttered. “It’s a pretty big deal in Whitehall.”

“Sled race?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. One of the Pyroar serves as the musher, and a bunch of the Litleo are strapped together and race around the designated course through the forest. Like I said, it’s an important event and lots of prestige is attached. The winners are basically household names for a solid week.”

“Well, being a household name is…” I trailed off. “It’s okay, I guess. When is the race?”

“April seventeenth, to celebrate the coming of spring. No matter what day of the week it is, everyone gets the day off of their regular endeavors to cheer the participants on.”

Honestly, that community aspect sounds nice. Say what you will about “traditional values” - that one’s worthwhile.

“Have you ever entered?” I asked Calvin.

He shook his head. “I’ve thought about it before, but I’m a bit worried. You see, I’m not like the other Litleo…”.

Conventional wisdom in the social realm is that if someone trails off like that, it isn’t wise to press them on what they were going to say. But “conventional wisdom” is often something I forget to adhere to.

“How so?”

Calvin glared at me. “I’m eighteen. Most of my species have evolved by now - I’m just a late bloomer, or so they say.”

The humans said that about me too.

The wooden buildings on either side of the main thoroughfare grew more numerous. Before long, the village truly felt like a town rather than a random assortment of houses - this was the most populated place I’d seen in nearly a week.

“There’s someone I think you should meet, by the way” Calvin stated, gesturing at one of the larger buildings. This building had a giant horseshoe bolted above its door.

I followed Calvin inside, grateful to have shelter from the elements once more. I saw that we’d entered a store containing what looked like horseshoes, belts, irons, and a few other things made of stone or leather. In other words, it was a blacksmith’s shop.

“Good morning, Calvin!” a sunny, yet deep voice exclaimed.

I turned in its direction to find a burly white Pyroar who for all the world resembled a breakfast cereal mascot. Much like that mascot, he was smiling from ear to ear; it’s hard not to when you’re wearing a crown on your head.

“Spencer, I would like you to meet Lord Lucas.”

“ Lord Lucas? Are you royalty or something?”

With a short, barking laugh, the blacksmith shook his head. “I wish. That is in fact what my parents named me. I don’t know what they were going for, but I’m hardly going to complain either.”

“Me neither.”

“Spencer, after you were found in the woods, Lord Lucas here brought up a sled to carry you down. He’s the reason you’re alive right now.”

I owe this lion my life.

The blacksmith snorted. “Hey, Calvin, don’t sell yourself short. You dug him out after all.”

“Yeah, but I’m not strong enough to drag him down alone. I required your help for it.”

“But there wouldn’t be a living Litleo to bring down if you hadn’t revived him right there!”

My face was rapidly warming; it was somewhat jarring and awkward to hear two lions arguing about who was more responsible for saving your life. And I wasn’t sure I liked it.

I guess both of the other lions picked up on my emotions, because Lord Lucas chuckled a bit awkwardly. “Sorry…did I weird you out there?”

“A little bit” I admitted.

“Well then, my apologies” the blacksmith continued. “That being said, there’s something I would like to ask you. An idea I’d like to run by you and Calvin if that’s okay.”

I fidgeted a bit. “Well, we really should be on our way. We’re about to register at the guild as a team -”.

“Oh wow, congratulations! That’s a pretty big step to take, isn’t it?”

“Indeed it is!” Calvin exclaimed. “Spencer and I decided on that last night before we went to bed.”

I felt my tail start wagging, which was an involuntary act on my part. Then…

“I think we should head over there. Except…”.

“Right!” Lord Lucas barked, clapping his paws together. “I was wondering if you two wanted to join the sled race this spring!”

“Oh, that,” I said. “Well…if our schedule allows. I don’t really know what being in a team entails, but I’m sure we’ll find time for some fun.”

“All work and no play will make you two boys dull. And nobody likes dull boys!”

After we bade the blacksmith farewell, we returned to the frigid outdoor air. I asked Calvin what connection Lord Lucas had to the sled race.

“He’s involved with constructing the sleds and harnesses. In fact, it’s pretty much all his doing. Lord Lucas has a pretty insane gift for all of it, like a sixth sense.”

“I can tell,” I sighed. “I wish I had that passion for anything at all.”

“Well, pretty soon we’ll be passionate adventurers,” Calvin promised.

The guild hall was a building roughly the size of a small-town Church of Arceus location. Although it wasn’t enormous as churches went, there was still no mistaking the fact that it was one of the most important buildings in Whitehall.

“Here we are,” Calvin stated unnecessarily.

We negotiated the steps cautiously; they were covered in a thin layer of ice like glazed donuts. Needless to say, for someone unaccustomed to being a quadruped, slipping was absolutely a hazard.

“Don’t slip, Spencer” Calvin stated. “Would be a shame to break your back right before you’re a guild member.”

“Don’t remind me” I stated through gritted teeth.

Once inside the guild hall, I couldn’t help but notice how dingy it was. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but there were no stained-glass windows to be found in this church, nor were there even any pews. The dark, dank building had so many cobwebs and so much dust that I entered a sneezing fit within seconds.

The biggest sneeze, at the end of the sequence, angered somebody.

“Halt! Who goes there!”

I could not tell where the voice was coming from, startled as I was by the barking tone that had been used. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s being yelled at.

“Uh…it’s us,” Calvin mumbled.

“Well, you should bring a box of tissues next time. That’s the proper etiquette if you think you’re going to sneeze or otherwise have allergies to the dust. Because it’s damn expensive to clean this place up each day!”

“I’m sorry!” I all but yelled. Seconds later, I started making those annoying snarking sounds that were a product of my throat itching like crazy. I could tell they were pissing the Torchic off.

And yes, the Torchic was the owner of the harsh voice I’d heard less than a minute ago. For such a diminutive creature, his tone sure packed a punch.

“Calvin Litleo!” the Torchic exclaimed. “What business do you have at this guild?”

“I wish to sign up for the guild with my friend Spencer Litleo.”

The Torchic frowned. “We have no records of a Litleo named Spencer residing in Whitehall at present. As far as I know, there has never been anyone with that name in this village.”

I was about to open my mouth, but Calvin glared at me. The message was clear: Don’t speak unless absolutely necessary.

“How did Spencer Litleo get here, Calvin Litleo?”

“He was wandering in the woods and I brought him here” my buddy stated. This much was true. Of course, the answer was as much about what Calvin didn’t say as what he did say.

“Huh” the Torchic stated, scribbling a few notes on a piece of paper. “So you rescued him from the wilderness?”

“Yes,” Calvin replied. “From…poachers.”

The Torchic raised an eyebrow. Clearly, he didn’t buy the story he was being sold, but was trying to strike the balance between his skepticism and his desire to remain polite. He didn’t want to shoot me down just in case I actually needed help.

“Well then,” the Torchic stated. Turning to me, he said, “My name is Agarth. I’m the leader of the Whitehall Adventure Society Prime, also known as the WASP nest.”

I chuckled. “Wasp nest.”

Calvin and Agarth both glared at me, and I realized too late that I’d slipped up. I sighed. “Never mind. It’s no laughing matter.”

“You are correct,” Agarth replied. “It is not. Spencer Litleo, Calvin Litleo, you are to form a team?”

“Yes,” Calvin replied.

“What will your team name be?”

“Uh…” my buddy began, trailing off within a split second. “Let’s talk about it privately.”

Agarth frowned. “Take as much time as you need, within reason.”

Calvin and I went off to the side, where we could talk at a fairly low volume without being heard.

“I was thinking we could call ourselves Team Earthlink,” he suggested.

I frowned. “Team Earthlink?”

Calvin narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that what I just said, Spencer?”

“Well, yes. But that name sounds kinda cheesy, like the name of a snake. And yeah, I know snakes don’t eat cheese…or do they?”

“That’s not important,” Calvin snapped. ”What matters is that we Pokémon are in tune with nature. That’s what differentiates us from humans.”

“How so?”

“Because,” the other Litleo replied testily, “humans see nature as a force that must be resisted at all costs, even conquered if the situation warrants it. That is not how Pokémon view nature. We were not plucked from the heavens and placed on this planet. Rather, we all came from the Earth, and to Earth we will all return one day.”

“So that’s the Earth part,” I muttered, still thinking Calvin’s words sounded like some pseudoscientific magical mumbo-jumbo. “But what about the link part?”

“Well,” Calvin began, “do you know about the link between humans, Pokémon, and the natural environment?”

“Uh…” I mouthed. Truth be told, there were so many links I’d heard of that I didn’t even know where to begin.

“Holy hell, Spencer, what did they teach you at Sunday School? Were you even paying attention?”

No, I wasn’t. I was always the kid swinging his legs under the table in the corner, hoping I didn’t get called on.

“In any case,” Calvin continued, “they say that our powers come from the Earth. It’s the planet’s blessing, they say, but it’s also the planet’s curse. We have to use them sustainably, just like any other natural resource. That’s what the Earth has given us.”

“That’s cool” I stated blankly. “But what does this have to do with our team name again?”

“We’re linked to the Earth”.

“Right.”

Just then, Agarth flapped his wings, sending a small wave of blistering heat in our direction. “I said you two could talk as long as you needed to, within reason. And you’re pushing the boundaries of ‘within reason’ at this point.”

“That was barely a minute!” I protested, but Agarth wasn’t having it.

“I don’t care! This is my guild, so you two need to operate by my rules! What name did you two decide on?”

“Team Earthlink” Calvin announced, nodding approvingly at me.

Agarth nodded, lowering his eyebrows. “I’ll register you two. You should receive your badges in the mail within the next few days.”

I frowned. “What are the badges for?”

“Why do we bother doing anything, Spencer?” Agarth replied rhetorically. “Because if you’re going to do something, you might as well do it right. Just like a wise man once said, give a damn.”

“Yeah, stupid question,” I admitted.

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“In any case,” the Torchic continued, “you two will have the opportunity to customize the team badges. Each badge will enable you to summon the other team member at a moment’s notice. And, should you ever add another member to your team, they will receive an identical badge.

“There’s more”.

Calvin raised his front left paw. “Continue.”

“You will receive your scarves along with your badges. What color would you desire?”

“Green” Calvin and I responded in unison.

“Fitting, considering the name of your team. And you’ll also get a third item in the mail - your adventure satchels. Yes, a pack full of toys may be a sack full of joys, but not for your enemies.”

“Great,” I replied with a smile. At this point I was envisioning myself as the most famous adventurer in all of Sinnoh, sitting in a throne room full of riches, not rags. That could all be mine if I proved myself in the dungeons.

“Yes, it is great” Agarth responded in a measured tone. “You two are now Team Earthlink. In all my years of being a guildmaster, the most important lesson I’ve gleaned is that rescue teams should choose their missions wisely. The last thing we want is to add another team to the rescue - that does nobody any good.”

We have to be responsible.

“Along with the badges, scarves, and adventure satchels, you will also receive a plaque certifying that you are indeed a rescue team. Until you have received that certificate, you will not be permitted to take on a rescue mission.”

“What happens if we do?” I blurted out.

Right away I knew this had been a faux pas at best, a potentially career-ending blunder at worst. Both Calvin and Agarth glared irately at me, and for a moment, I thought I might need to make a run for it.

But then the Torchic, who’d looked fit to burst into flames, cooled himself down (at least, metaphorically). And he sighed.

“I mean, I can’t stop anyone from exploring if they’re dead-set on it. Just know that you’ll be doing it without the support of the WASPs, so it would be incredibly irresponsible to take that course of action. Besides, you don’t have your equipment yet.”

Calvin was still staring, however, and if looks could kill, I would have been a bloody mess on the floor of the guild hall.

“Spencer, you realize that to join an expedition when you’re not ready would be suicidal. You’ve got to…I dunno, practice more.”

“How do you practice…what was it, again? A mystery dungeon?”

“You don't,” Agarth snapped. “As soon as you enter a mystery dungeon, it’s the real deal. You won’t be able to exit without an Escape Orb. So you’ll have to keep that in mind before you accept a job.”

“And where are the jobs?” I enquired.

Agarth grimaced, as though he were explaining to a 5-year-old why they weren’t allowed to bounce on the bed.

“There’s a board in the next room” he stated. “You can look at it now if you’d like, but I wouldn’t advise it if you don’t want to drive yourself insane. You cannot adventure if you do not have the necessary equipment, and you won’t have the necessary equipment for a few days.”

Eventually, the conversation was over, and I must admit: I felt like I’d been carrying along a 500-pound weight and was only now allowed to put it down. I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding once we left the guild hall.

“We need to talk, Spencer,” Calvin snapped. He used a tone that my father had once used when I was in trouble as a kid.

“What about?” I enquired cautiously.

“The talk,” the other Litleo stated far too casually. “Your behavior during it was extremely inappropriate.”

I flinched.

“What was so wrong about it?” I asked defensively. “It’s not like I insulted him to his face.”

“No, you didn’t. What you didn’t wasn’t as bad as that -”.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“It was far worse. You betrayed a complete lack of understanding about mystery dungeons and whatnot.”

I shrugged. “What was I supposed to do? Lie, play along? Conceal the fact that I’m clueless about this shit?”

“On the contrary,” Calvin replied, “that is precisely what you ought to have done. At least then you wouldn’t raise Agarth’s suspicions that something’s amiss here.”

“Well…” I trailed off.

“Don’t you understand what’s going on?” the other Litleo responded in a furious whisper. “If you can’t mask the fact that you’re not an ordinary Pokémon, the others are going to ask questions. They’re going to ask a lot of questions, and I’d rather not deal with that.”

“What’s so wrong about me? I’m just me.”

Calvin turned his nose up at the sky and began prancing away. I practically had to sprint to keep up, leaving me no breath to speak. But I didn’t need it, for once we were out of earshot from any other villagers, Calvin did all the talking.

“Don’t you realize what’s at stake here?” he snapped. “Don’t you realize what they want to do to you? It’s like, Arceus, you just put yourself in danger!”

I had another mile or two to ponder this, but it took most of my energy just to stay within earshot of Calvin. Say what you will about his temper, but that little lion man could run.

Eventually, Calvin stopped right in his tracks and stared ahead. In front of us, the air shimmered as though it were some kind of force field. Somehow I knew it wasn’t just a trick of the light.

“Do you know what that is, Spencer?”

“Uh…a portal to another world?”

Calvin snorted dryly. “You’re not entirely wrong. That’s the entrance to a mystery dungeon. They occur both naturally and as a result of our activity.’

“Right.”

“Each mystery dungeon’s layout is randomized each time you enter, and it can have any number of floors. When someone’s trapped in its clutches, it’s almost impossible for them to get out on their own without an Escape Orb.”

“Right.”

“And they can be extremely dangerous, filled with creatures and wild Pokémon that can bite your head off if you’re not careful.”

“Right.”

“But even the most frightening monsters in a Mystery Dungeon are small potatoes compared to the true monsters - those creatures who are not Pokémon.”

“Right.”

Calvin did a pirouette in midair and narrowed his eyes at me. “Stop humoring me, Spencer. I know you weren’t really paying attention - do you want to know how I know this?”

“Sure” I admitted, mentally kicking myself. Had I just said something beyond ridiculous?

“I’m talking about humans, Spencer.”

“But I am a human,” I protested. “Or at least, I used to be.”

“I know, and that’s the problem. You see, most of the villagers don’t take too kindly to humans. My mother is one of those villagers.”

I recalled just how icy Frala had acted toward me even as she’d aided my recuperation, and it made me wonder: Was it her general distaste toward the human race her motive for this?

That’s not fair, though. It isn’t right to judge an individual by their species’ reputation. It would be just as wrong if I called Frala a savage.

“I don’t get it,” I asserted. “Why would they lump me in with all humans? Do they really think that I’m like most humans?”

The look Calvin gave me exemplified the saying “a picture is worth a thousand words.” It told me everything I needed to know.

“Well, that’s not fair,” I mumbled.

“Life’s not fair, Spencer” the other Litleo snapped. “Deal with it.”

We were about to turn around and return to the village when I heard a sound high above me. (My sense of sound seemed far more acute than it had been as a human).

“What’s that up there?” I enquired.

“Wings!” Calvin exclaimed.

Sure enough, a Flying-type was descending gradually from the sky toward us. It didn’t take long for me to identify the species.

“An Emolga!” I exclaimed. And that was notable because…why was it important, again?

“That species occurs around here in…some numbers” Calvin muttered. In other words: Nothing funny is going on, so shut up.

Well, the Emolga retracted its wings and turned to us. We were about five feet apart now, staring one another down in the snowy landscape.

“It’s you!” I realized with a gasp.

Indeed, there could be no doubt: It was the same Emolga who’d refused to rescue me from a tree well the other day. I knew it, but did the Emolga recognize me in return?

The Flying-type glared at me. With venom evident in its voice, it all but shrieked; “What do you mean? Why would you recognize me?”

“You’re the Emolga who found me in that tree well!” I exclaimed with ample ferocity. “And you decided not to free me!”

The Emolga’s expression shifted from angry to dumbfounded. “How?”

“What do you mean, how?”

“How did you turn from a human into a Pokémon? That isn’t supposed to be possible! It’s never been recorded in the history of the world!”

Calvin gave me an odd stare. “Get this over with soon, okay, Spencer? You don’t need to settle a score.”

“Well, no,” I muttered. “I’m not out for revenge.”

“So you’re not like other humans?” the Emolga replied, lifting its eyes upward in a gesture of hope.

“I’m not,” I insisted. “Emolga, I know you don’t have a very high view of my former kind, but I can assure you that I mean no harm.”

The Emolga grimaced. “It’s easy for you to say that…”.

“...when my life’s the one on the line” I finished. “Yes, Emolga, I know.”

“Well, my life isn’t on the line today” the Flying-type responded. “At least, not technically.”

“What do you mean?” Calvin muttered. He kept casting me glances as though I were weirding him out somehow.

The Flying-type sniffed. At first I wondered if that was a function of winter allergies, but this was clearly not the case, as evidenced by what it said next.

“My satchel’s in the middle of that mystery dungeon” the Emolga stated through tears. “One of the beasts from there just took it and ran inside!”

“We can’t help you,” Calvin told the Emolga. “I wish we could, but we just got approved to be a team. That means we’re not allowed to enter a dungeon until we get our badges and whatnot.”

“But I’ll never get to enter a dungeon again if I don’t get my satchel back!” the Emolga cried.

“Calvin, we should help this guy” I said, suddenly feeling in my heart that this was the right thing to do.

“Yes, I am a guy,” the Emolga responded. “Enfield Emolga. I use he/him pronouns.”

Calvin shook his head as though that didn’t matter. Then he turned toward me. While his eyes were red, they betrayed ice-cold bewilderment.

“Are you crazy, Spencer? Or are you a little unwell?”

“Neither” I promised him.

“But he threw you to the wolves when you were fighting for your life” Calvin pointed out. “And you still want to help him?”

I can’t let revenge be the motivating factor behind all my decisions. I have to prove that I’m not like those other humans.

“Look, Spencer, I might agree with you if this was risk-free. But exploring is never risk-free, especially when you don’t have the proper gear. This could be a suicide mission, so don’t be so impulsive!”

By this time Enfield was standing ten meters to the side, bawling his eyes out. This made the decision even easier for me.

“We’re going to do it, Calvin,” I asserted. “I’m going into the Piplup Playground, and you’re going to come with me.”

“But we’ll get in trouble - “.

“Are you kidding? We’ll get lots of glory for this! Just think, how many rescue teams have taken on a job on their first day? We’ll be world-famous!”

“Fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be” Calvin mumbled. “Besides, there are other types of trouble beyond Agarth’s punishment.”

“I know,” I sighed angrily.

“You are insane, Spencer. You know that, right? Does your brain work differently from most ‘mon?”

“No! If someone around you needs help, you’re going to help them! Isn’t that why you saved me?”

Is this manipulation? Am I manipulating Calvin without even meaning to? That’s no way to treat your teammate!

Calvin huffed loudly, then dragged a foot through the snow like a Tauros about to charge. To my surprise, he didn’t knock me to the ground.

Instead he capitulated. “Fine,” he sighed. “I’ll go with you. The dungeon’s right here, and it’s probably an easier one.”

It had better be an easier one. We’re still new to this whole “adventuring” business. At least, I am.

“Thank you so much!” Enfield exclaimed. His tears of worry had vanished, to be replaced by tears of joy.

“Save the thanks for when we get back,” Calvin muttered. He gave me another dirty look.

“If you bring my satchel back, I’ll join your team!” Enfield promised. “I’ll be in your debt!”

“Really?” Calvin asked.

“Yes, really!”

“Don’t make a decision you’ll regret later. And don’t count your Torchic before they’ve hatched. We’ve got to get back first.”

“There’s a few Escape Orbs in the satchel,” Enfield said. “You just have to crush it and it’ll bring you back here. But make sure you’re holding the satchel when you do it, or else it won’t teleport back with you.”

“Thanks for the tip” I told Enfield. “Don’t worry, your satchel will come back safe and sound, and so will we. Just wait for us.”

“He could be waiting a while,” Calvin pointed out. “Time goes by faster in a mystery dungeon. Once a kid from Whitehall went exploring in one for what they claimed was a few hours, but they weren’t found for five days.”

My jaw dropped. “That bad?”

The other Litleo nodded.

“Was it this dungeon?”

Calvin shrugged. “Who knows? Just in case, Enfield, I recommend you head back to the village. We’ll bring this satchel to the guild hall when we’ve got it.”

“Okay!” Enfield replied, spreading his wings. “I’ll fly back and wait for you!”

Calvin then frowned at me. “It’s time,” he said. “If there’s anything you need to do in the village, I’d advise you to head back right now and do it. It’s not so easy to leave a mystery dungeon once you’re ensnared in it.”

“I’m good,” I stated.

“You sure? Famous last words, those are.”

(Insert a horizontal line here)

In the end we entered the shimmering zone, upon which I felt my stomach lurch. For a moment, I was convinced that the pancakes I’d scarfed down for breakfast would come up again.

But then all was well. Or rather, as “well” as things could really have been.

“Here we are,” Calvin said. “This is Piplup Playground.”

“Piplup are pretty cute, though…right?” I enquired. “They’re not supposed to be dangerous. Why should we worry?”

In response, the other Litleo grimaced. My statement had been naïve at best; that much was evident.

“Just follow my lead, okay?” Calvin requested. “This isn’t the hardest dungeon - if I remember correctly, it has three floors.”

“Floors? But I don’t see any stairs.”

“They’ll come eventually. Now follow me!’

I did as I was told. If the snow had been difficult to push through in the village, the mystery dungeon’s white stuff reminded me of what I’d dealt with before finding Whitehall. I was just about to leap forward again when the path collapsed beneath me.

My heart stopped - had I encountered another tree well? But my paws hit solid ground in a split second, so I quickly relaxed.

“These are the trenches” Calvin stated. “Lots of mystery dungeons have paths like this, making it sort of a maze. At some point in the dungeon, there’ll be stairs to the next floor. And this will continue until we reach the end.”

“But we don’t have to reach the end,” I muttered. “We just have to find Enfield’s satchel.”

“Yes. I’m assuming that one of the Piplup here will carry the satchel, in which case we’ll have to get it from them.”

In a perfect world, we would have been able to negotiate with the Piplup to give us what we needed. Judging by the tone Calvin used, though, I knew that physical force would likely be involved. If we had to fight, I didn’t like our chances.

“Do not lose me,” Calvin advised. “If you do, we might not find one another again. This is a maze.”

No shit!

Calvin moved at a steady trot, much like a Rapidash at the few riding lessons I’d taken as a kid (before I’d quit that hobby in the interest of safety). It didn’t take quite as much effort to keep him in my sight, but that wasn’t the main cause for concern.

At any moment, a wild Pokémon could come out of nowhere and fight us. And again, if it comes to that, I’m in trouble.

After about ten minutes (or at least, what felt like ten minutes), we came to the first clearing in the maze. (To clarify: There were tall, solid snow walls on either side of the path. It resembled one of the attractions at the annual Snowpoint Festival, not that I’d ever attended it.)

The room resembled a ski resort’s terrain park, with slopes and jumps all over the place. What was more, tracks could be seen on the snow. Whoever inhabited this dungeon, they’d been here recently, and that didn’t exactly reassure me.

There were four branching paths out of the intersection. However, as I glanced around at each one, I realized that I’d forgotten which path we’d come from!

“This way, Spencer” Calvin commanded, gesturing at the path right in front of him.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m not sure. The paths are random each time. It’s trial and error at this point!”

We got lucky this time. After about another hundred meters down this new path, we encountered a set of stairs that looked as slippery as an ice rink, maybe even more so.

“That’s the way to 2F” the Litleo muttered unnecessarily. “Do you need to take a break?”

I shook my head. “I think it’s better to keep pressing forward. Even if I’m nursing a stitch in my side.”

“Okay then. Onward it is.”

Once at the top of the steps (which took some time, since we had to be careful), we passed through some invisible barrier. The surroundings shimmered, and my stomach dropped again. The feeling wasn’t as intense as it had been when we’d first entered, but I still closed my mouth so as not to lose my breakfast.

And then we were in a new room with four branching paths, much like we’d been in not two minutes prior.

“Okay…which way now?” I asked.

“I don’t know, pick one!”

“ Any path?”

“Look, Spencer, your guess is as good as mine. Why don’t you make the decision?”

Yes, my guess was as good as Calvin’s. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that if this decision went wrong, it would be my fault. And I didn’t want to be responsible for the two of us meeting a terrible fate.

“I guess that way” I replied after a long, loud silence.

We came to a few more forks in the path, made a few more decisions. It was almost too easy to advance onward. Things had gone so smoothly for so long, it was only a matter of time before something would go wrong.

And trouble found us soon enough.

Calvin seemed increasingly confident that we’d come to the stairs to 3F. We were making progress, he asserted, and we’d be out of the dungeon in no time at all. This was what both of us wanted to believe.

But as soon as we took a right turn, things got worse. An overgrown waddling creature appeared just a few feet in front of us; its wings were baby blue, whereas its beak was mustard yellow. It growled at us, foam forming in its mouth.

“A rabid Piplup!” I gasped.

In a fraction of a second, everything I knew about rabies ran through my mind. If you were infected and didn’t get a rabies shot quickly, it was invariably fatal. You’d grow increasingly afraid of water and froth at the mouth until your brain was eaten.

Needless to say, that’s not what I wanted to happen.

“Well, don’t just stand there!” Calvin screamed. “ Do something! Spit fire!”

“I…don’t know how!”

“Are you a Fire-type or not?”

I took a deep inhale and spat out pure fury. A single ember left my throat - it wasn’t much, but it was something.

“Good! But not enough!”

At Calvin’s encouragement, I inhaled even more deeply, to the point where I was almost panicking from lack of oxygen. And then, when the Piplup charged at me, I let loose in a scream; a far greater flame erupted from my mouth.

I took a step back, at which point I saw that the Piplup’s tail had caught fire. The Water-type sat down, scraping that appendage against the snow in an effort to put out the flame.

“Nice!” Calvin exclaimed. “It’ll get up in a few seconds, but you’ve got the initiative!”

Sure enough, the Piplup rose to its feet soon after. This time, however, it wobbled from side to side like someone who’s had one too many at the bar. I let out another small fireball.

The Piplup collapsed an instant later, and I rolled out of the way to avoid being crushed. I swear, the creature had to weigh several hundred pounds, so such an impact would hurt more than I wanted to imagine.

When I saw Calvin again, he was beaming. “Great work!” he exclaimed.

The pride that came from winning my first battle was substantial, but it was blunted somewhat by the realization that…

“You didn’t help me” I mouthed.

“Of course I didn’t” Calvin stated bluntly. “I wanted you to do it yourself.”

“But why wouldn’t you at least do it to save my life? It wasn’t clear that I could fight back.”

“For the same reason why kids can’t have their training wheels on their bikes their whole lives. The easiest way isn’t always the best way.”

I sighed. I wasn’t going to win this argument, not that it was even worthwhile to try. Besides, there were more important matters at hand. But first…

“It went down so easily when I burned it,” I remarked. “I wonder why that is.”

“Because it was a Fire attack, and Piplup is a Water-type. It didn’t stand a chance as soon as you got a good burn in.’

“And does it actually have rabies?” I wondered aloud. I mean, sorry, but I was a bit of a hypochondriac. Especially when it came to a disease so deadly, there was nothing you could do to save the victim's life.

“How should I know?”

“Fair point” I groaned.

“Look, Spencer, we came here to recover a satchel. It’s not here. Therefore, it’s probably on 3F. If we don’t keep going, we’ll never get out of this dungeon alive.”

“Right. I’ll stop questioning everything. Let’s keep moving.”

On the third floor, there was only one option: A pair of toboggans beside a steep downward slope.

“Where’s the satchel?” I asked.

“Probably at the bottom of the slope,” Calvin offered. “That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“But what if it’s down there…?”

“It’s not!” the other Litleo insisted. “Just get on a damn sled and ride down!”

Now, as a kid I’d loved sledding. There’s something satisfying about sitting on a board or whatnot and coasting down a hill, occasionally putting your leg on the snow to control your speed. But as I’d gotten older and had less time to play in the snow, I’d fallen out of the habit.

I must have hesitated a little too long, because Calvin stomped against the snow again, scraping his back right paw against the ground to betray his impatience.

“All right, I’ll follow you.”

“We should go at the same time,” the other Litleo stated. “Just so we can help one another if we run into any… hazards.”

“I’m sure it’ll be relatively safe. I mean, it’s just sledding! Something you do with your kids on a snow day!”

Calvin was seized by a series of guffaws. “Oh, that’s a good one, Spencer!”

“What do you mean?”

“Because if you think that anything in a mystery dungeon is going to be relatively safe, then you’ve learned nothing. There’s going to be a trap or trick on that slope, I just know it.”

“Then let’s go back down,” I suggested. “We probably missed a room or two on 2F”.

“It doesn’t work that way. It will be up here - trust me. Or rather, down that hill. But the only way to get to it is to sled down. Don’t conflate the word trap with scam - you need to do it.”

We both climbed onto our sleds. I lay on my stomach, my limbs in all directions, and grabbed the string in my teeth. And then we shoved off.

Right away, I knew Calvin was right: This was not your local sledding hill.

No matter how hard I tried to slow down, the sled only accelerated. Additionally, the toboggan lurched to the side several times, and soon I realized that it was constantly lurching to the right, forcing me to lean in the other direction.

Finally, the ride was incredibly bumpy, as though there were any number of rocks and roots beneath the snow.

“Slow down!” Calvin commanded, though I didn’t know if he was imploring me to do that or his own sled. (Even now, I still don’t know).

“Easier said than done!” I exclaimed.

Eventually, despite my best efforts, I hit a wall and began spinning out. I was going around and around like a broken carnival ride, and each time I connected with the opposing wall, I was jostled back in the other direction like a ball in a pachinko machine.

“This isn’t fun!” I cried.

I thought I heard Calvin say something, but by now I was too dizzy to hear exactly what it was. The sensation was worse than the worst carsickness I’d experienced, worse than that time I’d spun too quickly in a swivel chair in an attempt to stimulate my senses.

My vision darkened within seconds, and I knew I was likely to lose consciousness. I pushed my stomach more deeply into the wood, but in this attempt I was thrown from the sled.

The next thing I remember is awakening at the bottom of the slope, a colorful lion cub gazing down at me with a smile.

“Good, you’re awake,” Calvin said. “I didn’t want to wait any longer.”

“Why is that?” I asked. “Why wake me from my beauty sleep like that?”

And then everything came back, and I knew why Calvin appeared so relieved.

“You were spinning around and around, and I had to speed up to avoid a collision. When I got to the bottom, I saw that you’d passed out after getting all banged up on the edges of the tunnel. Thankfully, nothing seems to be broken, though some of the bruises are going to hurt tomorrow.”

I tried to sit up, but the tightness in my chest stopped me from doing so.

“Uh, I think it hurts right now”.

Calvin chuckled, which is how I knew just how relieved he was to see me open my eyes. “The satchel’s right there - I already used the Escape Orb while holding onto you.”

I winked. “So that means…we’re out of the dungeon?”

My teammate nodded. “Yes. We’re out of the dungeon. We’ve completed our first job.”

In response, I allowed a weak smile to form on my face. “We did it, Cal. We did it.”

My teammate didn’t seem bothered by my use of his name’s diminutive form. Had this occurred in the presence of my mother, she’d likely have advised me that it’s always best to ask if the other person is okay with a nickname. In her absence, I was free to behave however I liked, within reason.

“So how long was I out?” I asked.

Calvin grimaced, glancing up at the sky as he did so. That’s how I knew that whatever the answer was, I wouldn’t like it.

“Well?” I continued. “How long? I can handle the truth.”

“The truth is that I don’t know,” Calvin replied. “Time is always difficult in a mystery dungeon. While the clock moves faster inside a dungeon than outside of it, it doesn’t do so at a consistent rate. In other words, it also doesn’t matter.”

“Fair enough.”

“As to how much time has passed here… well, just look at the sky.”

I had to squint, because the sun was right in my eyes. This told me all I needed to know.

“The sun’s going down!” I mouthed desperately.

“Yes, Spencer. The sun is in fact going down. Granted, we warped here a few minutes ago, but…”.

“...most of the day has passed. We have to get the satchel to the guild hall as soon as we can.”

“Wait, is that you two?” a familiar voice exclaimed.

I looked up to find an Emolga fluttering in our direction. Enfield looked jubilant, his grin so wide and toothy that it almost didn’t look real.

“Enfield!” Calvin exclaimed. “What did we tell you about waiting for us in the village? We were going to bring the satchel to the guild hall!”

Enfield smiled even more broadly, if that were possible, much like a kid who’s gotten away with stealing from the cookie jar.

“Well, I was a bit too excited, I’ll admit. The instant you came back with my satchel, I wanted to know it. I wanted to be here to thank you.”

“Thanks, I guess,” I said. “I mean, you still broke Calvin’s decree, but…”.

“I owe you one!” Enfield proclaimed. “And I’m going to repay you - I promise!”

After a brief silence, Calvin smiled.

“You don’t have to pay us back, Enfield. Pay it forward by helping us with our rescues - somebody’s going to be very grateful that you were a member of Team Earthlink.”

Enfield flapped his wings, yet still remained on the ground. “You’re going to let me join?”

“Of course!” Calvin stated. “The more the merrier! It takes more than two to have a good team, doesn’t it?”

“Right! And unlike humans, us Pokémon don’t run away from our debts! If someone scratches our backs, we scratch their backs! I think that’s how it goes…”.

After Enfield trailed off, I snorted. “Yes, that’s how it goes. Kind of.”

We were quiet for another minute or so, just enjoying one another’s company while knowing deep down that we needed to get back to the village sooner rather than later. Then Enfield asked us something else.

“Do you two have any initiation rituals?”

I frowned. “Initiation rituals?”

“Yeah. Any special handshakes or chants?”

Calvin laughed. It was a great, wholesome laugh that would have melted the surface of an ice planet within seconds.

“I mean, if you want to come up with one, be my guest.”

“I’ll work on it. And I’ll buy you two dinner in town!”

My mouth watered, though not from rabies. Although it hadn’t felt very long that we’d been in the Piplup Playground, my stomach stumbled as though it had been that long.

“There are restaurants in Whitehall?” I enquired incredulously.

“You’d be surprised!” Calvin gleefully exclaimed. “If you think my mom’s a great cook, you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

So we hiked back through the snowbound forest, laughing all the way at what we’d gotten away with and what we still had to look forward to. It was the best feeling in the world; it would have been nice to freeze the story right there, no pun intended.