Chapter 7 - Truth Disclosed

"Viv, you can stop now. It's finished," Elduran soothed Vivillon as she was still using Struggle Bug. "It’s not your fault; we all stopped attacking. Blue kept attacking because he's a knucklehead," he assured her, winking at Heracross to signal his jest.

"Viiii," Vivillon whispered as she calmed down and embraced Heracross, nearly choking him. Elduran empathized with the sensation. She felt she was the reason Heracross got a beat down.

"Wow, is it just me, or did this thing take more hits than the Feraligatr to finally go down? Jeez!" Aisha exclaimed.

"Little Light Bulb... that was a really smart move with Splash! Truly clever thinking. You've made the rest of our journey tonight far less stressful, sparing us from constantly looking over our shoulders in the dark," Elduran remarked.

"Light Bulb? What's that supposed to mean?" Aisha inquired.

"When you come up with great ideas, you remind me of cartoon characters. It's like a light bulb flashes above your head, and your eyes widen to improbable proportions," Elduran joked, laughing heartily.

"You are insufferable," Aisha remarked, though in private she bestowed her with a nickname that underscored her cleverness, a trait she admired. If only the "Little" could be removed from that nickname.

Elduran carefully approached Greninja and skillfully cut away the strings ensnaring its body with his knife. The sight that greeted him was dreadful. Vivillon had wrought terrible harm. What was left of Greninja was hardly discernible—its skin was almost non-existent, drenched from head to toe in blood, and its form was a mangled ruin. Though it lay unconscious, it still breathed; yet Elduran harbored doubts about its chances of survival. Its long tongue was splayed on the ground, nearly detached, as it had tried to protect itself from Vivillon's Struggle Bug with its tongue.

Nearby, Aisha was attending to her Pokémon, carefully applying a potion to Marill. Once finished, she recalled Hatenna in her Pokéball, sparing her the discomfort of trudging through the mud. She then approached Elduran, and upon witnessing the grave condition of Greninja, she averted her gaze as Elduran extracted the arrow lodged in its chest, cleaning the shaft with a rag before returning it to his quiver. Afterward, he gently positioned Cyndaquil on his shoulder and directed his attention to Heracross, which appeared severely battered.

Aisha didn’t necessarily pity the Greninja for the predicament it found itself in, after all, they were only defending themselves. She simply pondered over what provoked it to attack them in the first place. Typically, Greninja weren't known to be aggressive Pokémon. Still, a lost Pokémon's life felt like such a waste to her. She wasn’t some naive little girl who believed she could save every Pokémon in the world. Yet, when she felt at fault, it stirred something deep within her. She found it hard to accept her mistakes, and when she made them, she moved heaven and earth to correct them. Like with Heracross, that was a situation where she undoubtedly bore the blame.

Elduran approached Heracross, who was in dire straits—potions wouldn't suffice. It needed a good night's rest and certainly a visit to a Pokémon Center. For now, though, Elduran painstakingly sprayed Heracross's entire body, paying extra attention to the claw mark Feraligatr had left as a souvenir across his entire frontal torso. Blood flowed like a stream, particularly from a large wound beneath his right eye. How Heracross remained conscious was a mystery to Elduran, even after the timely intervention of Togetic's healing Wish during his battle with the Greninja. Despite everything, Heracross wore a broad smile, as if he'd achieved an evolution beyond his current form.

"Blue, you're bleeding quite a bit. You need to retreat into your Pokéball; it'll speed up your recovery," Elduran advised him.

"Heeeera," Heracross responded, his expression turning somber.

"I understand your strength, and trust there's no need to worry. If we encounter danger again, I know you're ready to fight. I promise to release you to unleash your power," Elduran assured, raising a fist with one hand and holding the Pokéball in the other. Once Heracross returned the fist bump, Elduran recalled him into the safety of the Pokéball.

"Viv, you won't be able to see much up there anymore, so keep low and watch our backs," Elduran instructed her. Vivillon nodded in understanding.

"It's pitch dark, Gale, help her out!" Aisha called to Togetic. "Luna, come here; I will carry you. I need your eyes, and I know this mud is terrible for you. Splash, continue what you did before—stay near the water and scout for danger. Thank you, everyone, for your hard work. A few more hours, and we'll camp on dry ground," Aisha said, lifting her Clefairy. Marill pushed ahead, hidden from view, while Togetic joined Vivillon at the rear of the group.

Elduran approached the fallen Greninja for a final time. It had stopped breathing, having succumbed to its wounds. Most of the fresh blood pooled around the arrow wound, a result of the projectile being removed from its chest. Perhaps it might have survived had the arrow remained, giving it a chance to heal and strengthen before removing it itself. However, Elduran needed the arrow; he didn't need a wild Greninja alive in the middle of a treacherous swamp. Practically speaking, if another encounter arose and he needed eighteen arrows instead of seventeen, that single arrow could make all the difference. A living Greninja miles away could not. Plain and simple.

Aisha trailed behind Elduran, feeling the exhaustion begin to reclaim her as the rush of the battle ebbed. Her eyes flicked to the Greninja they passed, and the reality settled — Greninja lay lifeless. Soon, Greninja would merge with the swamp, bits of him absorbed by other Pokémon, fragments sinking into the mud, and remnants swallowed by the sea. Yet eternally, it would become a tale, a testament to the enduring might of Pokémon in the perilous depths of the swamp.

"It has passed away; it no longer breathes," Aisha remarked to Elduran.

"Yes, I am aware," he responded, not even sparing her a glance as he continued to trudge forward.

Aisha observed that Elduran's left cheek and shoulder were bleeding. He was, quite literally, bandaging himself as he walked. She couldn't determine whether he epitomized efficiency or utter madness.

"Could we pause for just five minutes so I can properly bandage you? It seems you're doing a terrible job," Aisha suggested.

"Nah, it's pointless for these two scratches. Honestly, I don't even think they need bandaging," Elduran replied.

The wounds did not seem that superficial. That was all she needed to confirm her suspicions. He clearly epitomized utter madness.

"Assuming we maintain this pace, and with Arceus' blessing we avoid any perilous encounters, how long do you estimate until we escape the swamp?" Aisha inquired.

"A few hours... provided we sustain this speed," Elduran replied, putting particular emphasis on the word speed.

"Alright, I'll manage. No need for grumpiness. Some of us have actual human legs, you know," Aisha remarked with a touch of sarcasm.

"For someone who spent a year on tour collecting badges, you do tire quite easily. Perhaps you should double-check if those legs are indeed human," Elduran replied, matching her sarcasm.

"I had the whole year to visit eight gyms, and I took my time since I was studying alongside," Aisha responded, a hint of disappointment in her voice, which Elduran noticed.

"You're a formidable trainer, Aisha. Don’t short yourself. You've demonstrated your strength twice today. If you didn’t have to study while being a trainer, you would likely already have your eight badges. Let’s focus on getting out of this swamp in one piece," Elduran encouraged.

The moon hung high and full, casting a faint silver blanket over the swamp as Elduran and Aisha pushed onwards. The night was a chorus of croaks and rustles, with Marill leading the way, scanning the path that twisted under pooled water and thick mud. Behind it, Cyndaquil rested on Elduran's shoulder, flames snuffed to a soft glow, casting gentle light that stretched and contracted with their movements.

Aisha carried Clefairy, the Pokémon’s keen eyes navigating through the inky blackness. Above, Vivillon and Togetic flitted like watchful sentinels, their wings twinkling intermittently against the moon’s light, ensuring no danger followed from behind. The air was damp and thick, like a living thing pressing down on them.

The swamp was a network of convoluted routes that seemed determined to lead its travelers in endless circles. Half the time, paths were indistinguishable under muddy water that gurgled sluggishly around them. It was a relief when they neared a sluggish Drednaw, stout and seemingly disinterested in the travelers. They made a silent detour, the large Pokémon seeing no need to chase.

As they pressed on, the deeper patches of water revealed shapes and ripples indicating life below. Among them were several Totodile, and a lone Croconaw that prowled with an air of authority. Elduran paused momentarily, considering the Croconaw with a tempered gaze. But once the pack caught scent of the humans, they dispersed into the wetlands, leaving naught but ripples. Aisha noted Elduran’s expression, a mix of contemplation followed by aversion, yet no words passed between them. Exhaustion clung to their bones like shadows, and questions were best saved for better hours.

Their movements through the swamp took them briefly past a mirthful Ludicolo, swaying by itself in a patch of reeds under the moonlight. Togetic and Vivillon, caught up in the whimsy of the moment, danced along its rhythm before following Aisha and Elduran further into the swamp's heart. Sightings of Surskit skimming the water’s surface and clusters of Tympole crooning their evening lullabies marked their passage. Amidst this were Bellosom and Gulpin, scuttling away from their path.

A piercing unease gripped Elduran as his eyes detected several Skorupi slipping between shadows. A Drapion could lurk nearby, its presence signaling unavoidable conflict. But the swamp held its dread secret, and no beast of shadow made itself known. His ears, attentive to the swamp’s whispers, caught nothing to conjure additional fear. Still, there was another potential threat in the form of a Seismitoad, a solitary kind yet potentially formidable if disturbed. Elduran advised caution, instructing Aisha to keep Marill’s frolicsome nature in check, lest an unintended bump trigger an unwanted confrontation in these treacherous waters.

Hours into their trek, the swamp gave way to diverging paths. To the right, Route 116 promised several days’ journey through a quagmire of peril, infamous throughout Tenera for its treachery. To the left, Route 113 led towards Dirthrow, their intended destination. The wind carried with it the promise of conclusion, and Elduran’s heart lightened as ahead lay the vast expanse of a lake framed by moonlit serenity. In her private thought, Aisha imagined the lake under dawn's light, a mirror reflecting an untouched sky.

As they pressed on, the foliage thinned beneath the blue-black sky, and their steps grew more assured as the ground firmed beneath them. Yet tranquility proved evasive as echoes of skirmish broke through the night. Elduran signaled a halt, and they moved with stealth, their eyes scanning the partially lit clearing ahead. There, amidst sparse cover, a Croagunk, bearing a long scar across its back, faced off against a Toxicroak. Their contest was fierce, poised delicately upon the edge of skill and determination.

With Cyndaquil’s light extinguished, Elduran remained silent, observing the raw display of territorial aggression. When the Toxicroak emerged victorious yet departed without further malice, Elduran and Aisha remained unnoticed. The Croagunk, though wounded, summoned the strength to rise, pursuing the Toxicroak with a subdued resolve. Perhaps this had been a challenge—not the first, and certainly not the last. A silent tale of survival and hierarchy woven into the wilderness.

Elduran allowed a fleeting smile, acknowledging the poignant irony of survival in wild places where human presence was but a superficial veneer. Yet he clung to his silent reflection, with exhaustion preventing any further interaction beyond measured pacing. The final hour brought them to the fringes where the swamp's grip loosened, giving way to a landscape brushed in sandy browns and an expanse of open sky.

Elduran surveyed the terrain, unshielded as it was, he thought camp demanded the shelter of stone and proximity to the lake. They veered southwards, bearing towards the towering silhouette of a rock formation that reared into the starlit sky. It was immense and sheer, anchoring their campsite against rising winds that softened against taut tent fabric. The craggy shelter presented a visual spectacle, a natural bulwark from which to watch the shifting theater of dawn.

Once the tent was set up, Elduran entrusted Cyndaquil with the first watch. The dependable Pokémon, despite the evening’s weariness, was the most refreshed of Elduran's group, having spent the majority of the trek tucked away in its Pokéball. Taking on the duty with eyes alight with pride and readiness, Cyndaquil listened as Elduran adjusted his instructions—Aisha's Clefairy was to relieve Cyndaquil halfway through the night. Aisha concurred and briefed Clefairy about the arrangement before she cozied herself into the embrace of sleep. She instructed Cyndaquil to wake Clefairy once fatigue set in.

Silence claimed the camp as deep slumber descended upon both humans. Elduran surrendered willingly, hoping their Pokémon to keep vigil through the night. The night sang its ancient lullaby around them, and as the moon fell below the horizon, the celestial tapestry unveiled a prelude to dawn—a new adventure on the brink of beginning.

As Elduran's eyes fluttered open to embrace the dawn, his first sight was Cyndaquil, vigilant and ever-awake, faithfully holding its post through the starlit hours, having chosen not to awaken Clefairy for relief. Such loyalty was commendable, yet the demands of the morning called for renewed energy—the final leg of their journey still relied on untapped reserves. Now Elduran faced the day with an injured Heracross and a weary Cyndaquil for today's trek. It would be up to him and Vivillon once more.

As the first light of morning unfurled its gentle touch over the landscape, the vast lake ahead shimmered under the pale embrace of the dawn. Mist danced lazily atop its glassy surface, creating a gauzy veil of mystery, while the water echoed hues of soft pinks and golds, painting a tranquil portrait of serenity.

Behind them, the towering mesa stood as a colossal sentinel, its rugged face adorned by the play of light and shadow. The mesa's sheer cliffs rose mightily, their rocky visage weathered by time but unyielding, casting long shadows that stretched across the terrain like protective arms cradling the camp.

To the north, a rocky dark brown dirt desert stretched out, its surface illuminated by the morning sun, casting a fiery glow that stood in stark contrast to the lake's gentle allure. Instead of dunes, the landscape was dotted with clusters of towering cacti and sparse vegetation, resilient lifeforms that eked out an existence in the barren lands. The desert extended into the horizon, a sea of rust-colored earth and rugged stones, whispering secrets from its ancient past to any who dared to listen.

The harmony of these three elements—the serene lake, the steadfast mesa, and the expansive desert—crafted a breathtaking theater of nature.

Elduran rose to greet Cyndaquil, offering quiet gratitude to his companion, knowing full well the weight each shared for the journey ahead. Vivillon hovered nearby, ready to assume her protective duty with renewed earnestness. In these moments of transition, Elduran felt the rhythm of nature, the unending cycle of challenge and rebirth—a living tableau where another story awaited just beyond the horizon.

"Cyndaquil, you must follow my instructions next time. I appreciate you keeping watch, but by choosing not to wake Luna, you'll be exhausted for today's journey and less able to assist Viv if we face an attack," Elduran admonished.

"Cyyyyn," Cyndaquil whimpered, struggling to hold back tears welling up in its eyes.

"Cyndaquil, another thing you must work on is crying less. My words are part of your training. I often tell these things to Blue too. Do you see him crying?" Elduran queried.

"Cyyyyn," Cyndaquil replied with a steadier tone, wiping away its tears.

Vivillon approached Cyndaquil, enveloping him within her wings, offering comfort in a gentle embrace.

"Viv, I'm quite certain if you don't release him in about two seconds, you might either crush all his bones or completely suffocate him," Elduran remarked with a sigh.

Vivillon let go, and Cyndaquil began to take deep breaths immediately.

Aisha yawned from within the tent, got up, and joined them, gazing at the scene before her.

"Wow, what a vista! Here we stand in a spot where towering rocks rise behind us, and ahead stretches a vast lake with no discernible end. To the northwest, the swamp remains visible, while due north lies a stark rocky desert. Damn, if this isn’t a sight, what is?" Aisha exclaimed in amazement.

"It sure is something," Elduran remarked, as he absorbed the scenery.

"You know, you need to give him a name. You can't keep calling him Cyndaquil," Aisha remarked.

"Oh right, I completely forgot. Your name is Forge," Elduran declared.

"Cyyyn," Cyndaquil chirped with excitement, the flames on his back flaring up.

"Forge? Seriously? That's the best you could come up with? I mean, I get it—he’s a fire Pokémon, but if fire’s the theme, why not Ember, Blaze, or even Inferno? Flame’s a solid choice too. But Forge?" Aisha questioned.

Cyndaquil's excitement diminished, unable to grasp the meaning of Forge, but sensing from Aisha’s tone that his trainer might have given him a foolish name. He glanced at Elduran, hoping for reassurance.

"Forge suits him perfectly. That Cyndaquil over there forged this partnership through sheer determination and hard work. Just like a forge—hot, stubborn, and always creating through heat and labor," Elduran explained.

Cyndaquil turned to Aisha, hoping she would come around and not consider the name ridiculous.

"Oh wow, that’s surprisingly well thought-out from you. How could someone who named his Heracross Blue come up with such a fitting name for his Cyndaquil? Are you of two minds?" Aisha teased Elduran, then turned to Cyndaquil, "Cyndaquil, you adorable thing, stop staring at me like that—your silly trainer actually gave you a wonderful name."

"Cyyyyyn!" Cyndaquil chimed with joy.

"We can take it easy today. Let's just rest this morning. To reach Dirthrow, we only need about seven or eight hours," Elduran remarked, glancing at the map. "Let's depart around eleven. Have some breakfast, brew some coffee, definitely bathe in the lake to wash this mud off our skin, and then we can have a conversation. I have a few questions I need to ask," Elduran added, checking his watch and noting it was only seven in the morning.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"You know what, that sounds good, but I am definitely starting with bathing. I can't wait to be somewhat clean again," Aisha said to Elduran.

"That was my plan too. Release Splash in the water, tell him to scout ahead just in case we manage to lure a Gyarados to us," he said half joking.

"I was never going in there without Splash by my side. Let's walk down there," Aisha said, glancing back at Luna, who was still asleep. She opted to let her rest. She released her Togetic from its Pokéball and instructed it to watch over Luna. Her other two Pokémon ensured her safety.

"Viv you come with us, you too Forge," Elduran said to both as he picked up his bag, put over his shoulder and started walking towards the lake Aisha right behind him with her own bag on her back.

It must have taken them five minutes to reach the lake, while Aisha initially thought it would take only a minute. The lake was so big, it looked that it was much closer than it looked.

The expansive lake unfolded before them like a painter's masterpiece, its surface capturing the gentle glow of the morning sun. True to its name, Lake Tranquility was indeed tranquil. Along the sandy shore, several Staryu lay partially buried, their five-pointed forms subtly shimmering in the day's early light. Nearby, a few Slowpoke lounged idly, their tails dipping into the cool water, as if pondering some profound mystery.

Both East Sea and West Sea Gastrodon traversed the pebbled shoreline, their contrasting colors—one vibrant pink, the other a deep green—adding a splash of diversity to the scene. Among them, Wimpod scuttled nervously, always alert and ready to dart back into the safety of the underbrush with the slightest hint of danger.

In the gentle embrace of the lake's waters, groups of Psyduck paddled aimlessly, occasionally stopping to quack at each other in apparent confusion. Chewtle bobbed along playfully, snapping at floating bits of leaves, while Ducklett glided gracefully across the surface, their blue feathers mirroring the sky.

Further out, a lone Quaxly swam with elegance, its unique presence marking it as a true gem of the lake's ecosystem. Its rarity added an air of enchantment to the scene, a reminder of the wonders hidden within the wild. The tableau of diverse Pokémon painted a living portrait of tranquility and natural balance, making the lake a true oasis in the sprawling wilderness.

"Seems like we've mostly got friendly Pokémon around here. Just make sure to steer clear of those Chewtle—they can get aggressive if you get too close. Over there on the left looks clear of Pokémon, so let's head that way and release Splash to scout for underwater Pokémon we can't see," Elduran suggested, pointing to a part of the beach to their left, mostly free of Pokémon save for a lone Staryu.

Aisha released Marill, instructing her to scout underwater for any lurking dangers. Marill was thrilled, rolling forward like a small torpedo straight into the water. Aisha and Elduran reached the beach, where they both set their bags down.

"The only issue here is the lack of big rocks or trees," Aisha remarked, contemplating how to undress and enter the water with him nearby.

"What do you need those for?" Elduran inquired.

To Aisha's surprise, he began undressing as he walked toward the water, wearing only his black boxer briefs. His physique was more toned than she had imagined. Upon first meeting him in Asven, she thought he seemed too slender for a soldier. As the group's sniper, though, it made sense he favored speed over brute strength. But what truly captivated her were the scars covering his skin—a grim testament to his past skirmishes, each one a rugged tale etched into his flesh. His back alone was visible to her, a landscape of crevices and canyons telling stories of survival.

Then, without hesitation, he stripped completely, standing before her unashamed. Why had she expected anything different?

"Are you completely insane?" Aisha questioned him.

"What are you talking about?" Elduran replied, turning to face her.

Of course, he turned around to complete the spectacle. There he stood, utterly naked, his member exposed. Yet again, scars demanded her attention—less dense than on his back, but one massive wound traveled from his upper right shoulder to just beneath his left pectoral. It was clearly a fierce battle he had narrowly survived. Realizing she was staring, Aisha quickly averted her gaze. How was it that he was the one unclothed, yet she felt embarrassed?

"Why are you acting so weird?" Elduran asked, then realization struck him. "Oh, I get it, you've probably never seen a dick before. Get used to it, little light bulb, every guy's got one!" Elduran stated, diving into the water.

"You have absolutely no shame," Aisha shouted, her eyes blazing as Elduran turned to face her, his head barely above the water. "You're not normal. I've been in a few relationships, so I've seen a dick before, but there's definitely something wrong with you," she continued, her voice taut with anger.

"Can I ask you something? Why are you really angry right now?" Elduran questioned, his voice as calm as the ripples spreading from his movements in the lake.

Aisha paused, for a moment caught off guard by the simplicity of his question. It was as if someone had plunged cold water over her heated thoughts. Why was she really angry? The question echoed in her mind, teasing loose the threads of her reasons. Anger seemed like an old friend, always there to justify her inner turmoil. But now, in the soft morning light, challenged by Elduran’s straightforwardness, she was forced to confront the empty underpinnings of her emotions.

Elduran's shocking actions challenged her ingrained reserve, revealing that her vigilant adherence to unspoken conventions was unnecessary. She glanced sideways at Cyndaquil and Vivillon, who seemed at ease with the disregard for social mores. Pokémon, wild and free, moved unburdened by human modesty, a state she found strangely enviable at this moment.

Determined for some sanity, she pulled Hatenna from her Pokéball. The small psychic Pokémon blinked slowly in the light, her delicate hat-looking antenna rising to gauge Aisha’s emotional state. Hatenna's calming presence washed over her.

“Don’t worry, everything’s fine,” she said, offering reassurance more to herself than her Pokémon. “This idiot we’re traveling with just decided to strip naked in front of me without so much as a warning.”

Hatenna cocked her head, eyeing Aisha with bewilderment, before examining the scenario with intrigue. It conveyed a telepathic message, a gentle nudge reminding that, in the natural order, such limitations were truly unnecessary. Unclothed, unfettered—it was the essence of existence. A whisper of amusement touched Aisha’s lips as Hatenna imparted this truth, gently urging her to discard her biases and embrace acceptance.

Defeated by the logic no amount of human rationale could argue against, she let out a resigned sigh. Her own Pokémon, at ease in their nonchalance, made her objections seem petty in the grand scheme of existence. Maybe, she mused, Elduran wasn’t the fool in this regard. Ironically enlightened by his raw openness, she watched him wash himself, appreciating his pragmatism.

"Screw this!" She declared aloud to the world, standing decisively. Time to toss dignity to the winds and join the morning’s liberation. Stripping away layers of both mud-stained clothing and unnecessary self-consciousness, she discarded her shoes, jeans, jacket, and shirt, standing only in her white underwear that clung to her skin. Just then, her movements seem synchronized with Elduran’s casual turn toward her.

“Look who finally decided to join the party,” he teased, the sound of his chuckle light and warm over the morning lake.

"Here goes nothing," Aisha muttered as if summoning courage. She unclasped her bra with a decisive motion and slipped out of her panties, allowing the cool breeze to wrap her in freedom’s embrace before plunging into the lake’s calm, cold embrace. The water shocked her senses, banishing any lingering doubts with every shiver.

A part of her reclaimed its laughter at the shock of cold and the pleasure of letting go. Elduran, ever the instigator of spontaneous enlightenment, watched her with a hint of conspiratorial pride. In the water, where bodies moved like shadows beneath the mirrored surface, she found unexpected kinship.

"The water feels wonderful, a much-needed recharge," Elduran remarked, his teasing tone noticeably absent.

"It truly does. Elduran, I'm sorry for how I reacted earlier. I judged you just because you wanted a simple swim without all the ritualistic nonsense about who should look away, who should go in when, and all that. Honestly, it's liberating," Aisha admitted.

"What are you talking about? If you're shy, that's completely fine. I was only teasing," Elduran replied, smiling sincerely.

Had Aisha overthought it? Had she imagined he had a grand plan to help her feel more at ease, to free herself from self-imposed barriers? As her mind raced, she studied him. Relaxed and at peace, she leaned towards the notion that Elduran was, indeed, just teasing. None of his antics were about making her feel better; he was merely having fun. In retrospect, not realizing this sooner turned out to be liberating. Taking that first step was most of the battle itself.

“I miss the swim. Can we venture further? I could use the exercise,” Elduran called to Marill, whose enthusiastic paddling left trails of bubbles.

"Count me in. Swimming's the one exercise I really love,” Aisha responded buoyantly, acknowledging the shared sentiment.

"Well, well," Elduran grinned, his respect plainly evident, “something in common after all. Consider me impressed.”

The serene morning led them deeper into the lake, where silence and shimmering reflections evoked unspoken introspections. Each stroke transcended words, immersing them in timeless tranquility. Embraced by the lake, Aisha felt attuned to nature, shedding embarrassment in favor of pure joy—a revelation born from water and freedom.

Emerging from their swim, Elduran and Aisha stepped out of the water, leaving Marill behind to fully enjoy his time there. Elduran felt a wave of relief knowing no dangerous Pokémon had been spotted by Marill. The tranquility of swimming always soothed him. He began sorting through his belongings, pulling out a towel and then a fresh set of clothes. Aisha mirrored his actions right beside him.

Elduran's fresh attire mirrored his previous outfit: dark green tactical pants, dark gray tactical boots, a black t-shirt, and a dark gray lightweight military jacket. Aisha, however, opted for another pair of jeans, this time pairing them with a black t-shirt. She donned a dark, well-worn leather jacket. Naturally, she wore the same tan leather boots but had an identical spare white hat.

Marill required considerable persuading to leave the water, but Aisha succeeded. A short while later, they returned to their tent, where Clefairy remarkably remained asleep. Clefairy preferred to slumber during the day and stay awake at night, though this was a rare occurrence for most when under a trainer's care. Nevertheless, their nature made them lethargic during the day despite the amount of shut-eye they had obtained during the night.

Elduran carefully gathered a modest bundle of dry wood from the scant trees, more akin to dense shrubs, littering the landscape. Cyndaquil was instructed to ignite the wood into a small, steadfast fire, the flames casting a warming glow against the morning chill. As the aroma of freshly brewed coffee began to weave through the air, Aisha joined them, her presence a quiet reassurance. Togetic settled comfortably on her lap, offering its soft warmth. Meanwhile, just beside their pitched tent, Marill, Hatenna, and Vivillon huddled in a cozy assembly, lost in their own gentle chatter.

"Little Light Bulb... it's time for you to share some insights," Elduran spoke with a calm authority.

Aisha cast a look at him, seldom seeing such gravity etched across his features. His face was serious. "What is it exactly that you wish to know?" Aisha inquired.

"The Watchers. I am utterly clueless about them. All I understand is that they are invariably sighted during legendary Pokémon assaults. Sighted in what manner?" queried Elduran.

"I trust you understand that unless directed otherwise, I'm simply unable to share any information," Aisha stated.

"I’m essentially working for you, cut the crap. By now, I could just as well be considered a field operative for your agency. I deserve more information, to understand precisely what I’m up against," Elduran demanded irritably.

"Elduran, you're not under the agency's employ; you arrived of your own free will. No one compelled you to be here," Aisha spoke with calm assurance.

"Then why seek me out? Why not dispatch a genuine field operative, someone seasoned in combat, to accompany you? Why choose me? I realize I may not be the sharpest, I understand that, but I'm not a complete fool," Elduran questioned, sensing he had touched a nerve.

"You know what, screw this! You deserve to know. To answer your earlier question, as far as I have been informed, we haven't glimpsed a single person affiliated with that organization," Aisha declared.

"Elduran inquired incredulously, 'What? You've not only failed to capture any of them, but you haven't even spotted a single one?'".

"No, unless Gemma is withholding information from me, or the higher-ups are from her, the answer to your question remains a no," Aisha replied with a sigh.

"But how the hell do you even know they're called Watchers? The media and even my commanders always refer to them as Watchers. Just how in Suicune's wet ass do we know they're behind all these past attacks?" Elduran shouted, clearly enraged, as every single one of their Pokémon halted what they were doing and stared at him.

"Elduran, take a deep breath. Let me explain, but you must promise not to tell anyone until we have evidence; otherwise, I'm as good as fired," Aisha expressed with evident concern.

"Aisha, the reason you're speaking to me right now is not because I'm angry or out of some misguided kindness, willing to keep your secrets to spare you trouble. You're speaking to me because you've read me like an open book, as you always do, and for some mysterious reason, you've calculated that whatever you tell me, I will take to my grave. So there’s no need for me to assure you—I won’t breathe a word. Please, proceed," Elduran said, irritation lacing his voice.

Aisha stood up and began pacing back and forth, inhaling deeply as she pondered the potential repercussions if Elduran betrayed her trust. "When Moltres rampaged around 33 years ago on Cinnabar," she reflected, "it wasn't the first time a legendary Pokémon went on such a rampage, but it was the first instance where something was discovered. Among the wreckage, a peculiar Pokéball was found—one that, at first glance, resembled any other Pokéball you’d see, red and white. Yet, a league trainer’s Magnezone, while assisting in clearing metal debris after the attack, drew in this particular Pokéball with its magnetic pull," Aisha recounted.

"I may not be well-versed in physics, but I am certain that this is impossible. If memory serves, the Pokéballs are crafted from tungsten, which isn't ferromagnetic, correct?" Elduran said, his curiosity piqued.

"Indeed, they're crafted from tungsten and, as you've noted, are not ferromagnetic. However, this particular ball was fashioned from an unknown metal—a pure blue metal. While easily worn, it possesses remarkable strength, but Pokémon digital energy makes it erode. Magnets can attract it with ease. Another unusual aspect was its encoding: advanced engineering at its finest. Although all Pokéballs incorporate security measures, this one was extraordinarily complex. The red light emitted when Pokémon are digitized spilled outwards, turning the unpainted sections of the metal a vivid purple. Thus, when engineers attempted to simulate a Pokémon being inside, the area around the button—the bare metal of the ball—shimmered in shades of purple. It's akin to the Pokéball's button being likened to a purple eye. Yet, despite the damage, programmers managed to salvage some information from the limited data that remained within the Pokéball. The name 'Watchers' appeared repeatedly in files. That occurred years ago; now, nothing can be restored as the Pokéballs are typically recovered in minuscule fragments. Still, those balls persist," Aisha explained as she settled back into her seat.

"Do you mean to say they've truly succeeded in capturing legendary and mythical Pokémon?" Elduran asked in disbelief.

"Yes, but these Pokéballs cannot contain the Pokémon indefinitely. While the capture boasts a 100% success rate, Pokémon inevitably break free. Through countless fragments collected over the years, we have forged our own Pokéballs using this metal. We know that no Pokémon can resist capture. Yet, even weak Pokémon eventually liberate themselves, for a Pokéball has a finite lifespan. A mere Rattata shattered the ball after nearly a year, and as a Pokémon approaches freedom, more scratches mar the surface, as if their digital essence strains against the ball. A feeble Rattata overpowering any Pokéball is indeed pitiful. However, the most astonishing instance was the immediate capture of a formidable Tyranitar. It took 26 days for the Tyranitar to escape the Pokéball. Some may deem the Pokéball inadequate, but—" Aisha was narrating when Elduran interrupted her.

"Yet to hold a Tyranitar for a whopping twenty-six days—an extraordinary feat, considering this Pokémon’s power rivals even the most mythical of its kind—is impressive in itself. Recall that league trainer who subdued Regice with just one Tyranitar around a decade ago in Sinnoh. So, picturing myself holding down a Moltres for a mere fifteen to twenty days seems plausible enough. But Rayquaza, now that's a conundrum! How did they ever manage to capture Rayquaza? I can’t fathom holding that creature for longer than a day. The incident took place in Alola, yet Rayquaza is known to reside in Hoenn. If they indeed captured it there, and with the flight to Alola taking what, seven hours? Even on a speedy Pokémon, that journey would cut down to two or three hours, max. This leaves scant time for preparation. Surely, they don’t just waltz into a town and casually toss a Poké Ball into some rubbish bin," Elduran marveled at the astonishing information unfolding before him.

"Indeed, you’ve grasped the essence of it. This is why it's so difficult to track them down. They literally conceal a Pokéball somewhere, and days later, the attack unfolds. It's a daunting task to defend against that, regardless of how many Magnezones and Magnetons league trainers deploy daily, tirelessly searching for any trace of that metal," Aisha elaborated.

"Shit, but do you have any insight into why these Pokémon are attacking the cities?" Elduran inquired.

"You ask, hoping to determine if they act of their own accord, yet we believe they do not. Something in the ball's coding influences them. We have yet to decipher any of it," Aisha replied.

"Shit again, are the balls always red and white?" Elduran questioned.

"They can be painted any which way, yet they must be painted; otherwise, a Pokéball resembles a purple disco ball that doesn’t actually emit any light. It's tricky to describe, but if you take one into a dark cave, you'll see it clearly, yet it won’t illuminate your path. We think they've chosen the typical red and white to keep attention at bay, but these Pokéballs are not meant for public display. The button, however, always emits a faint purple glow. For reasons still unclear to us, that section remains unpainted, even on standard Pokéballs. Don’t get it twisted, though—the glow is subtle. Place the Pokéballs on a belt with the button facing in, and you wouldn’t see a thing. Yet, the scratches marking the Pokéballs are impossible to conceal. We saw those marks form right before our eyes with Tyranitar; just imagine the speed with Rayquaza," Aisha explained.

"Have you chosen a name for the metal yet?" Elduran inquired with gentle curiosity.

"The very first person to study it called it Galazon," Aisha told him.

"The situation is more dire than I anticipated," Elduran remarked.

"What are you implying?" Aisha asked.

"Well, I was hoping to at least discover how they engage in combat, whether they are trainers, or if they use firearms. That was essentially my inquiry, but, damn, did I end up with far more than I anticipated," Elduran said.

"You were genuinely infuriated when I mentioned our failure to capture even one, and without detailing the circumstances, your frustration would persist until Arceus deems it time to forge a new realm," Aisha remarked.

"No, that wasn't the reason you spoke to me; you simply wished to dodge answering the other question I posed. Little Light Bulb... why are you here with me?" Elduran inquired with a sly grin, confident he had caught her out.

Aisha rose once more, pacing as she weighed her choices, but ultimately, she resolved to divulge the truth and lay everything bare.

"My mission isn't sanctioned. Gemma sent me here against her superior's wishes," Aisha confessed, returning to her seat.

"That cunning weasel. Indeed, that's Gemma for you," Elduran remarked with a smile.

Aisha was incredulous. He was smiling—unchanged by anger. As usual, she wondered about the man before her: what on earth was wrong with him?

"Aren't you upset?" Aisha inquired.

"And why should I be upset?" Elduran replied.

"We don't have the backing of any government as we carry out our mission right now. There's no help beyond a modest financial contribution she'll be sending, but you can forget about any military or league support," Aisha remarked.

"I truly never expected that, even if your mission was officially endorsed. I've been entwined with the whims of these Pokémon leagues and governments for far too long, and I know securing assistance in a foreign region is sheer madness," Elduran replied with absolute certainty.

Aisha felt that this had gone far better than she had ever anticipated. She was nearly convinced he would have struck her at least once. Remarkably, he seemed more at ease than before.

"Why, by Articuno's beak, are you more at ease now than when you first discovered everything was so bleak and hopeless?" Aisha asked.

"As it turns out, I'm not the only one swimming in shit; we're all swimming in shit, clearly," he exclaimed with a hearty laugh.

"You are insufferable! Now it's my turn to ask a question that unsettles you," Aisha declared, her eyes ablaze with a fiery resolve to conquer the world. "What is your reason for being here, and why as a trainer?"

"Come on, you understand why. For years, the Watchers have played me like a pawn. I crave my vengeance, and it's clear to all that trainers wield far more power than the military. It's plain and simple," Elduran declared.

Certainly, you've managed to persuade everyone else, and I must admit, you've even convinced Gemma, which is quite the feat. She truly believes that you utterly dislike Pokémon, but that's far from the truth. This isn't some vendetta for you; it's the ideal reason to finally enjoy the Pokémon companionship you've always desired, yet never permitted yourself," Aisha remarked to him.

"I can't take this Pidgey shit seriously. Spare me the humor," Elduran replied with a dismissive tone.

"It is simply the truth. While you may not yet love Pokémon, you certainly respect their strength and admire their willingness to heed your guidance and grow. Despite your claims to the contrary, you genuinely care for them," Aisha remarked.

“I have no idea how you reached that conclusion," Elduran responded uneasily.

"The level of communication you share with Blue and Viv speaks volumes. In just three days of bonding, you've come to understand Blue almost perfectly, something rare for most trainers. Your connection with your Pokémon is extraordinary, limited only to those you truly trust, and it's clear your trust in these two knows no bounds. Such depth in understanding usually takes months for others to achieve. Trusting Blue to stand guard in the Volcano after just one day of knowing him is practically unheard of. Honestly, I never did that with any of my own Pokémon. This level of communication signifies complete trust—you genuinely care for Blue's well-being above your own. Even with Candy, who can use psychic communication with me, it took a week to reach a similar understanding, and she stayed in her ball while I slept for the first two weeks," AIsha recalled, turning to Hatenna with an apology. "People often carry the fear in the back of their minds that their Pokémon could one day rebel, break free from their Pokéballs," AIsha admitted as Elduran felt the weight of her words.

"This is utter nonsense," Elduran remarked

"No, it is not, but it is not all rosy. There's no doubt you value strength in a Pokémon, yet they also capture your heart. Forge certainly did. That Croconaw from yesterday did too, until it did something that put you off—if I were to hazard a guess, it was the moment it opted to flee rather than stand its ground against you; perhaps you saw it as cowardly, that's my theory. But that Croagunk, you took a liking to it, that much was obvious. I'm only speculating here, but perhaps you appreciated that it faced a Pokémon with no hope of victory. I suppose when pitted against legendary Pokémon, your preference for such Pokémon has its merit. Despite what I consider flawed judgment in selecting your Pokémon allies, once they become yours, you would lay down your life for each of them. You could easily come here and shooting your way through obstacles, likely lasting longer. Yet you choose the harder path, not because you think trainers become stronger over time—you keep saying that—but because you also maintain that we’re on a suicide mission, implying you don’t really believe you’ll achieve that level. You’re merely finding a reason to be with Pokémon, even if it ultimately leads to your demise," Aisha declared, finally managing to strike a chord in Elduran, leaving him slightly embarrassed—this was her retribution.

"Gather your things now, we've lingered long enough. We’re leaving!" Elduran ordered as he rose, visibly rattled.