image [https://i.imgur.com/jBLRfdf.jpeg]

Chapter 8 – Work is Hard

The sun beat down as Elduran and Aisha trudged across the desert, leaving behind the soothing waters of Lake Tranquility. They moved in silence, the tension from their morning disagreement hanging like a tangible presence between them.

The desert stretched out beneath the relentless noonday sun, an expanse of rocky, dark brown earth shimmering with heat. The sky was a vast, unbroken dome of azure, clashing brilliantly against the arid land that seemed to swallow the horizon whole. Sunlight poured over the jagged landscape, highlighting the rust-colored stones and boulders that peered from the ground like sentinels of time.

Cacti stood scattered across the expanse, their towering forms casting long, jagged shadows that seemed to dance over the earth in concert with the shifting breeze. The spines of the cacti glinted fiercely, their vivid green a stark contrast against the dark soil, while hardy shrubs clung stubbornly to the rocky terrain, their leaves whispering secrets of survival.

The air was heavy with the scent of warm earth, a dry and dusty balm that filled the senses—a fragrance of endurance. In the distance, mirages played tricks on weary eyes, blurring the line between sky and land in a delicate ballet of light and illusion.

Above, the sun’s rays created a shimmering aura, painting the desert in hues of gold and brown—earthly tones that spoke of ancient stories embedded within the land's heart. Occasionally, the silence was broken by the call of distant Pokémon, the only life daring to breach the heat's oppressive grasp.

This was a place of solitude and resilience, where nature's raw beauty wove a tapestry of strength and mystery, inviting those who crossed its threshold to unravel the tales whispered by the winds.

Cyndaquil trotted confidently ahead, his flames flickering gently with each step as if marking a path through the maze of rocks and cacti. The sun above cast its warm glow on Cyndaquil's smooth, fiery back, creating an ever-shifting illumination that danced in rhythm with the breeze. Despite the harsh surroundings, it moved with purpose, its innocent curiosity leading the way forward.

Above, Vivillon and Togetic soared in graceful arcs, their wings catching the light as they navigated the open skies. Vivillon’s red and white patterns seemed to mirror the vibrant hues of the desert flowers scattered sparsely across the terrain, while Togetic’s ethereal charm added a touch of whimsy to the stark landscape.

Together, they served as vigilant guardians, their keen eyes scanning the horizon with practiced ease. They weaved through the air with agility, occasionally crossing paths as they circled over the group, ensuring the way ahead was clear of any unforeseen threats.

Their harmonious dance in the sky was a spectacle of nature’s elegance—a testament to the bond between them and their human companions below.

Elduran and Aisha followed closely behind Cyndaquil, their eyes frequently darting to the skies, reassured by Vivillon and Togetic's aerial oversight. Each step over the rocky ground resonated with a shared rhythm, a unity underscored by the presence of their Pokémon allies who heralded both protection and companionship across the sunlit expanse.

Cyndaquil shuffled across the rocky desert floor, its curious eyes tracing the unfamiliar landscape. It soon approached a formidable cactus, intrigued by its towering form and spiny silhouette against the sky. Never having encountered such a plant before, Cyndaquil's curiosity got the better of it. It leaned in, extending a cautious tongue to taste the cactus, hoping for a hint of life in this arid world.

The instant its tongue touched the cactus's green skin, Cyndaquil yelped, pulling back sharply. Needles pricked its tongue, a painful surprise that quickly turned into irritation. Fueled by discomfort and rage at this unexpected retaliation, Cyndaquil's back flared up with vibrant flames, and with a defiant puff, it unleashed a fiery Ember at the cactus.

The parched plant caught fire swiftly, with flames leaping up its length, crackling in the arid desert air. Observing the blaze spread quickly, Vivillon descended gracefully, soothing Cyndaquil with her gentle presence. She calmed him with the soft, undulating motion of her red and white wings and tranquil speech.

Meanwhile, Aisha swiftly released Marill from its Pokéball. "Splash, use Water Gun!" she instructed with urgency.

The blue Pokémon responded promptly, waddling forward before releasing a jet of water aimed directly at the blazing cactus. Marill's Water Gun splashed over the flames, extinguishing them with a sizzle and the soothing whistle of steam, leaving a few charred remains in its wake.

With the flames quenched and Cyndaquil's temper simmering down alongside the smoldering cactus, Vivillon flitted back into the air, content that tranquility had been restored. Now more composed, Cyndaquil shrugged off the remnants of its irritation, having gained a touch more understanding of the desert's ways. Aisha thanked her Pokémon. After the incident, she swiftly returned Marill. Elduran advised Cyndaquil to contemplate before taking action, a lesson it earnestly embraced, demonstrating its effort to outgrow the immaturity of tearfully reacting each time Elduran pointed out a mistake.

As they regrouped, the journey continued under the watchful eyes of Cyndaquil, Vivillon, and Togetic, each more aware of the subtle challenges the desert might hold.

As Cyndaquil continued to lead the way, casting playful flickers of light over the rocky ground, a troop of Sandshrew scurried nearby, their tan bodies expertly camouflaged against the landscape. They burrowed swiftly into the sand, leaving only trailing patterns as evidence of their passage.

On a nearby ridge, a few Cubone wandered with their skeletal helmets gleaming dully in the sunlight. A lone Marowak kept a watchful eye on them, ensuring their safety as it patrolled, but Elduran and Aisha smartly chose a route to bypass its territory, avoiding any unnecessary confrontation.

Deeper into the desert, the terrain opened into a quarry ahead. As Elduran and Aisha approached, they were met with a scene that juxtaposed harmony with exhaustion—a testament to the enduring yet strained bond between humans and Pokémon.

Gravelers rolled heavily across the rocky expanse, their efforts guided by human supervisors whose voices, though firm and encouraging, carried a hint of weariness. Commands were still executed with precision, but the pace was methodical, reflecting the toll of relentless labor.

Amidst the activity, Machoke struggled slightly under the weight of boulders, their movements not as fluid as they once were. The muscular laborer, keen-eyed yet visibly fatigued, ensured safety amid the clamor, his directions met with slow, deliberate responses from Machoke and their human companions.

Copperajah, strong yet lumbered with wear, added its might to the quarry’s efforts. The experienced operator, standing at its side, guided its trunk with measured signals, directing the piled stones with care rather than vigor.

The old woman with her Hariyama trudged toward the working masses, expressions of quiet resilience marking their shared task. Hariyama effortlessly carried heavy water buckets, though its movements bore the languid signs of overuse, fueled only by the soft encouragement of its lifelong companion.

Her presence, while adding cohesion amidst the quarry’s wearied roar, also spoke to the underlying strain that linked nature's might with human ingenuity. People and Pokémon worked steadfastly, shouldering existence and endeavor, yet their efforts painted a picture of silent struggle amidst the desert’s vast expanse.

Elduran and Aisha took in the scene before them, absorbing the spirit of cooperation tinged with fatigue—a tapestry of determination against the desert's stark realism, propelling them onward into the promise of their unfolding expedition.

Elduran stepped cautiously towards the elderly woman, a solitary figure amidst the bustling quarry. Her attire, a monochrome ensemble of gray baggy trousers and a long-sleeved shirt, seemed relics of a decade past, speaking volumes of a life lived in the shadows of time. In stark contrast to the bustling workers clad in safety gear, she wore no helmet, her mane of white hair dusted with particles from the day's toil. Yet there was a serene wisdom about her—a quiet resilience mirrored in the landscape. Elduran felt drawn to her, as if she held secrets to the desert's resilient spirit.

"Interesting operation you have going here," Elduran remarked. "You look like the foreman."

The woman chuckled; a sound as dry as the desert wind. "Foreman, you say? I wish. I shouldered the burden of ownership years ago," she admitted with a resigned sigh.

"Why does ownership feel unfortunate?" Elduran probed gently.

Aisha joined the conversation with a concerned glance at their surroundings. "Do you see their conditions, Elduran? It’s evident."

Elduran turned to take in the scene: the dilapidated stone buildings, the rusted iron bones of long-abandoned machinery. The exhausted Pokémon moved sluggishly; their energy sapped by the harshness of their environment.

It was a place where the hope of thriving had been overshadowed by sheer survival. The woman’s eyes, reflecting the struggles of her workers and Pokémon alike, revealed a silent plea for change amidst the desert’s unrelenting challenge.

"The problem isn't the abundance of stone," Elduran murmured, his voice tinged with skepticism. "Perhaps it's the heat and the desert. It seems logical."

The old woman's laughter came to them, an unexpected melody amidst the solemnity. "Oh, there's no shortage of stone, and believe me, it's not the heat or the desert that concerns us. The issue that's draining the very life from this place is the absence of a promised road. It's been a decade now. Ten years since they assured us of its construction."

Aisha, her expression a mask of confusion and disbelief, intervened. "Why not build your own road if this quarry is privately owned?"

The old woman's eyes glimmered with an understanding of outsiders' naiveté. "Ah, that question right there marks you as strangers to Tenera. We can't build roads. Hell, we can't even drive trucks outside the city limits without them being illegal. Archaic laws from before our independence still govern us. I don't know your reasons for being here but take heed. Perhaps consider returning to Asven and flying out before you become entangled in this mess."

Elduran, trying to make sense of the contradictions in her story, pressed on, "Then why was the construction of a road anticipated?"

"A law was supposed to change to permit it. But the Pokémon League opposed it," The old woman exclaimed, exasperation creeping into her tone.

"It’s a ruse to protect the natural habitat, or so they claim," Aisha noted with derision. "Isn't that just propaganda to attract trainers? For sure, part of Pokémon tourism. And yet, there already exists a road from the airport to Asven. Either this league is utterly corrupt or they indeed care about Pokémon—but these quarry conditions point to the former."

The old lady appraised her anew, a flicker of respect softening her gaze. "You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I'm Dorothy. And you are?"

"I'm Aisha, and this is Elduran," Aisha introduced, gesturing to her companion.

Dorothy smiled, a hint of warmth creeping into the barren landscape of her face. "Judging by that Vivillon and Togetic and the adorable little Cyndaquil following you, you're trainers. Are you here for the Gym challenge? They say it's the toughest there is. Since you’ve come from the west whether you trekked through the Valt swamp or escaped the Volcano, you’ve endured part of it. Not too shabby for trainers. Come inside. At the very least, I can offer you a respite and some refreshments."

Aisha accepted graciously, "We’d appreciate that."

Inside the modest building closest to them, a symphony of creaking hinges announced their entry. The air inside was cooler, subdued; the room was a sparse, no-frills refuge with a table for eight, a small kitchen, and an array of six bunk beds with a solitary, slightly larger bed—a testament to Dorothy’s lack of privacy even in her ownership.

Coffee, water, or tea? Dorothy inquired, her manner simple, her hospitality genuine, even in the midst of desolation. Aisha chose tea, Elduran, the coffee—his eyes meeting a particular challenge head-on, just as he would regard any adversary or obstacle.

Dorothy noted a tentative camaraderie between her guests, though their rapport seemed fresh from the kiln of recent disputes. To Elduran, she served a cup, saying, "It's drip coffee, pretty good if I might add."

"Stove pot coffee is the best," he acknowledged, "but I enjoy whatever's available. One must appreciate what's at hand."

Aisha turned her gaze around the stark interior, her heart aching for the plight of the weary Pokémon outside. "Dorothy, the humans have the option to move, to leave, but these Pokémon—they're akin to slaves. I apologize for being so blunt."

Dorothy smiled wryly, a tempered sort of amusement curling her lips. "Not just Pokémon, but humans too. Yet, these Pokémon aren't mine. I've only two—Hariyama and a single Machoke. The rest belong to the workers. If a worker comes with a Pokémon, I hire them. Who would hire workers without Pokémon? It’s the nature of the world. Good labor relies on good labor Pokémon. Simple economics in a harsh world. Only one laborer here has three Pokémon, a pitiful reflection of our woes."

Elduran nodded, his expression contemplative. "Tenera's government rivals the corruption globally."

"Worse," Dorothy corrected, a bitter edge hardening her words. "No government is as bad. The town you're headed to, it’s chaos personified. Tenera’s so-called cities, save Asven, are pitiful. Dendra—beautiful, maybe, but steeped in corruption. Zest, though populous, is a dilapidated relic from the past. This corruption—it defies logic. Roads could ease conditions for these Pokémon. Why does the league obstruct progress? I’m too weary for these endless battles."

"You’re right," Aisha concurred, “it’s nonsensical."

"Since you managed to survive the swamp, you must be trainers capable of handling yourselves. I have a favor to ask. I've reached out to our esteemed league for assistance, but I've been waiting for nearly a month with no response, and I can't afford to hire independent trainers," Dorothy said.

"What is the problem?" Elduran inquired, sipping his coffee.

"I have a ghost Pokémon problem, specifically a Drifblim," Dorothy replied.

"Those damn ghosts. Let me guess, it snatched a worker or a Pokémon, soared high, and then dropped them to their doom?" Elduran speculated.

"Exactly, one of my workers. I haven't been able to replace the poor soul since everyone is now terrified of this place. Some of my workers have attempted to set up an ambush, particularly those with Gravelers, because unfortunately, most of us use Fighting, Ground, or Copperajah, which are hard to conceal. Our Mudsdales, mainly responsible for transporting rocks to Dirthrow, are borderline useless too. But this Drifblim seems to be biding its time, waiting for us to lower our guard again. It's frustrating to always have to keep one Graveler out of work just to stand guard at night," Dorothy lamented.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"I will deal with this Drifblim easily, rest assured. Have everyone sleep today, let it think you've finally lowered your defenses," Elduran proposed. "But I won't do it for free; since we'll have to stay overnight, we need beds, food, and drink. Is that agreeable?" he asked.

"Yes, of course, that's the least I can offer. Do you have Pokémon that are effective against ghosts?" Dorothy inquired.

"Actually, I'll handle this personally," Elduran said.

Aisha stood up, "Excuse me, Dorothy, but let me speak to Elduran privately for a minute." She motioned for him to follow her to the door. Once they were far enough from the building to ensure their conversation was private, Aisha confronted him, "Are you insane? We don't have time for this. Yes, maybe a person or two might die, but every day we delay in dealing with the Watchers, a whole city could perish. You're not thinking clearly," Aisha scolded him.

"For someone who was so broken up about saving a bleeding Heracross that delayed us by a whole day, you're remarkably unsympathetic to human lives. I'm clearly not employed by the Kanto Intelligence Agency, as you pointed out. I'm here to enjoy being a Pokémon trainer, and part of that enjoyment is dealing with ghost Pokémon. Now, if I happen across some Watchers on the way, I'll be sure to handle them too," Elduran said.

"You're insufferable!" Aisha retorted. "Even if it had been a Pokémon that Drifblim killed, I'd have said the same thing."

"Then I don't understand your standpoint. Contrary to what you may believe, I'm not heartless; I'm a pragmatist but certainly not heartless, unlike you. Let me give you some advice: help who you can, don't become a slave to your agency; be human, Aisha. Instead of being a puppet to your job, use it, use their resources to do some good in this world. We might head to Dirthrow, encounter the Watchers before we know it, and end up dead on the street by morning, but at least we could have helped these people first," Elduran reasoned.

"Look, I see your point, I really do, but I can't keep doing this. I feel like I’m drowning every second I waste not pursuing them. I'll head to Dirthrow, leave right now, and do some reconnaissance tonight and tomorrow before you arrive," Aisha said.

"Alright, actually, that sounds like a solid plan. It’s the best way to do both—help these people and make progress on finding intel about the Watchers. I like it," Elduran agreed.

"Wow, you truly think in a no-nonsense way, don't you? Anyway, let me fetch Gale, and I'll get going. We'll be staying at the sole Pokémon Center in town—hard for even you to miss. With several hours of daylight remaining, and Route 113 appearing fairly safe thus far," Aisha remarked.

"Alright, see you in the morning. And just so you know, there are no hard feelings about our argument earlier. Work is work, I won't lose sight of that, but you did strike a chord. It’s not that I'm hiding anything; I haven't yet admitted to myself what seems obvious to you. You might be right about everything, but it's something I can't accept yet, at least not openly. It's not embarrassment—I don't even think I know that feeling—it's more like..." Elduran began, but Aisha interrupted.

"It's fear. the fear that all these years have slipped by without pursuing the desires of your heart, chasing the Watchers on your terms—the trainer's way. You're simply scared that you may have chosen the wrong path," Aisha said.

"You might be right, but I still need to work it all out in my mind. I'm just not ready yet to fully embrace your theory. There's something that tells me to hold back on fully committing to the non-combat aspects of Pokémon. Perhaps I've already embraced them, and I'm just deceiving myself," Elduran admitted.

"Alright, I won't push you. I'll let you figure it out for yourself," Aisha said as she walked back toward the building to retrieve her Togetic.

True to her word, Aisha picked up Togetic and left the quarry, while Elduran reminded Dorothy that tonight there would be no Pokémon or humans keeping watch. He instructed them to heed her command, knowing he wouldn't waste another night trying to help. He needed Drifblim to take the bait—the bait being himself. Initially, he considered using Cyndaquil, but Drifblim seldom lifted Pokémon only to drop them. On the other hand, watching humans fall to their demise was a thrill for them.

Elduran released Heracross from its Pokéball to assess its condition and was pleasantly surprised at the improvement, although it was clear that none of his three Pokémon fared well against ghost types. With Heracross still injured, Elduran's prediction that he'd be the reason for Drifblim's end wasn't an empty boast.

From his bag, he extracted a special black cassette containing 16 vials filled with Pokémon type essences. How these were extracted remained a mystery to him, though he marveled at how immune humans were to them. There were no normal or fighting essences. The absence of the normal type made sense, and while fighting seemed almost logical, given that it's essentially normal moves with a martial arts slant, still, some Pokémon with fighting moves demolished others that resisted normal attacks. Nevertheless, he didn't consider it crucial since no Pokémon was solely weak against fighting moves.

Each vial cost 20,000 Pokédollars—or Crimson Cetis in Tenera. He presumed the price would be comparable and could check in Dirthrow the following day. A single vial could likely coat his entire quiver, requiring just a few drops and some rubbing to spread over the arrowheads, lasting easily for twenty to thirty hours.

He coated two aluminum arrows with the dark vial, applying two drops on each and spreading the liquid with his finger, since humans remained unaffected by these essences. Carbon arrows were reserved for special long-range shots, but this would be a straightforward, short-range task if planned correctly. He estimated two arrows would suffice after stabbing with his knife, which he also coated only at the tip, requiring merely two drops.

He spent a couple of hours working on the plan with Cyndaquil, Vivillon, and Heracross. Vivillon was crucial here; although Cyndaquil would've been ideal, Elduran doubted ember would affect Drifblim significantly. Vivillon's role was to ensure his second shot was a clear one and to resolve the Drifblim issue definitively.

As sunset descended, casting the desert and quarry in gray, Elduran knew it was time to rest until awakening around eleven. His sleep, split into two phases, would envelop him before and after the encounter. As he re-entered the building, he noticed the workers leaving, except for Dorothy. When he inquired, she explained she'd given them Saturday off since it was Friday, ensuring no interference with his mission. They wouldn't return from Dirthrow until Monday, which worked perfectly for Elduran.

Thanking her, he settled on the bottom bunk. Cyndaquil, by his waist, exuded blissful contentment. Heracross and Vivillon claimed the top bunk, their wings offering ample lift. There was no need to keep watch; Dorothy told him she etired around midnight, well past his set alarm. Thanks to his army days and missions, Elduran had mastered the art of falling asleep swiftly and efficiently; within ten seconds of laying his head down, he was enveloped by slumber.

Hours later, his watch vibrated, it was time. Heracross had already awakened, pacing, testing its injury. Elduran roused Vivillon and Cyndaquil, while Dorothy quietly sipped tea at the table writing a note. With a finger to his lips, he signaled for silence. He zipped up his jacket and, moving deliberately and quietly, stepped outside, ten feet from the building’s door. Surrounded by emptiness, he was exposed—easy prey. He undid his bow and nocked one of the arrows soaked in dark essence, holding it in his left hand. With his right hand, he unsheathed his dark-essence-coated knife from his back. Then, he sat down, crossing his legs, head tilted forward, feigning sleep. All of his Pokémon were concealed, waiting patiently by the door.

For at least an hour, he must have remained in that position, growing increasingly uncomfortable. Perhaps today, the Drifblim would not launch an attack. Dorothy wouldn't be pleased. Yet, all hope was not lost. He assured her that tonight he would exert his utmost effort, even if it meant enduring the entire night like this. At least he would know he had done all he could. Maybe a slight movement was needed, in case it hovered nearby, and his stillness prevented even the Drifblim from detecting him. He stretched a bit, shifting gently left and right to ease the tension in his hips, then settled back into waiting.

A noise descended from above, the faint hiss of air. Elduran, still excessively calm, listened intently. It was indeed moving slowly—but was it coming toward him? Perhaps it was a different Pokémon, preoccupied with its own affairs. Yet, there it was, inching closer with certainty. Elduran's heart began to race, adrenaline coursing through him, but his training and resolve rendered that invisible. Anyone observing him at that moment might have thought he was lifeless—not moving, not panicking, not sweating. In fact, doing nothing at all.

Elduran felt something tap his shoulder. Without a glance, he twisted, driving his knife into the largest Drifblim he had ever seen. The Drifblim let out a piercing shriek as a black spot spread from the wound. As Elduran tried to raise his left arm to draw his bow, a powerful gust erupted, sending both him and Drifblim soaring through the air at tremendous speed. The Drifblim had used Tailwind, an advanced maneuver that allowed it to harness the winds to its advantage. Elduran tumbled across the ground before coming to a halt. When he raised his head, his team was already rushing to his aid. He knew he needed to act quickly; this creature was far stronger than any of his Pokémon.

He still held the bow firmly, though the arrow had disappeared. With any luck, a single arrow would be enough. Arrows were still powerful, though they didn't quite compare to bullets; bullets could often get lodged within a Pokémon, depending on the creature, whereas arrows, again contingent on the Pokémon, provided more opportunities for removal. Drawing another arrow infused with darkness, he took aim. Drifblim moved too hastily; the shot seemed improbable regardless. His skill was unquestionable, yet the gusting wind and turbulence from Tailwind made the attempt fruitless. Patience was crucial; he needed to wait for the perfect moment to strike from point-blank range. He re-attached his bow and returned the arrow to his quiver.

Drifblim spun rapidly, conjuring a tornado-like wind that surged toward Elduran. It had used Gust, prompting Elduran to dash to his right. "Blue! To me!" he called out, and Heracross swiftly flew over, snatching Elduran and whisking him a few feet to safety as the Gust swept past them. "Forge, use Ember!" he commanded Cyndaquil, who immediately unleashed flames from its mouth, striking Drifblim squarely. Yet, Drifblim remained motionless, absorbing the assault as if welcoming it. What was wrong? Elduran pondered, knowing Drifblim could easily evade within the tailwind. Then realization struck him. "Damn, Forge, stop! Stop quickly!" he urgently instructed, and Cyndaquil obeyed. It was then that Elduran noticed Drifblim was aflame, its eyes now three times their normal size. Too late, Elduran understood that this Drifblim possessed Flare Boost, an ability enhancing its power when engulfed in flames.

Vivillon soared through the sky as Drifblim vanished into thin air. It had used Phantom Force and would soon reemerge beneath one of them with fierce intensity. Since it seemed more aggravated with him, Elduran anticipated it would target him. Without hesitation, he thrust his knife into the ground. Half a heartbeat later, a shadow loomed around him. Indeed, it had chosen him, and Elduran permitted a faint smile to play upon his lips. As the darkness lunged toward him, his knife, infused with shadow, sliced through it like a thin veil. Drifblim let out a screech as Elduran wrenched the blade from its form, then swiftly turned, rolling backward just as Drifblim erupted angrily from the earth. As he retreated from the dust-laden crater, Elduran commanded Cyndaquil to use Leer and Heracross to launch an assault with Pin Missile. With some luck, Drifblim would continue its pursuit, as the knife proved to be the most effective against it.

Cyndaquil flashed his eyes on him and Drifblim defences did falter as Heracross bombarded it with thin missiles forming and expaulding from his body. It was definitely affecting it, but the best in this situation was Vivillon. She had all tools to make Drifblim a sitting duck for him, but he needed to focus on Heracross now in order for plan B to spring into action, since plan A was clearly to just finish it himself with a stab and an arrow or two in face. That clearly had not worked. Drifblim took the bait and just instructed hours before, his Pokémon did as commanded. Cyndaquil used a weak form of quick attack, since it had not mastered the move yet, to move fast towards Heracross, when it arrived it used Smoke Screen to hide them both. Drifblim was almost upon them, Elduran was sure that it would use either Shadow Ball or Gust to clear the smoke. The smart move would be Shadow Ball, stronger and a big Pokémon like it was, Elduran was sure it could probably hit both of them without having to see them, the obvious move would be to use Gust to help tailwind clear the smoke even faster, but the move was weaker and slower. Drifblim started twisting, it decided to use gust and Elduran was very proud of Vivillon right now, as it was already over his head.

“Commence with Stun Spore as planned,” Elduran instructed. Though not rapidly executed, Drifblim, consumed by its own fury, failed to notice the spores enveloping it, rendering the creature momentarily paralyzed just after it unleashed a Gust at Cyndaquil and Heracross. The duo had already vacated their position, allowing Heracross to continue its onslaught with a volley of pin missiles. This is the opportunity, Elduran mused, as he unhooked his bow with precision. He deftly extracted the dark-infused arrow from his quiver, and within seconds, it was in flight. Simultaneously, Elduran commanded Vivillon to release a Psybeam to further bewilder Drifblim, extending the effect of the Stun Spore, preventing its motion temporarily before commencing with Poison Powder. Vivillon was unparalleled in manipulating adversaries. When the arrow and Psybeam struck in unison, Drifblim emitted a piercing wail. Elduran felt certain it would be defeated, yet he remained vigilant until victory was unmistakable. With Vivillon dispersing poison particles over Drifblim, Elduran fixed his gaze on his objective. Swiftly advancing, he spotted the misplaced arrow roughly ten feet away. Sliding to reclaim it, he swiftly nocked it and took aim once more. Although Drifblim had succumbed, he prudently kept his bow trained on it as he approached, its tailwind entirely subdued.

Elduran stood over the Drifblim. It wasn't breathing—a trait shared by most Ghost-type Pokémon. Yet, it was still alive. Ghost Pokémon only perished when they vanished entirely. Dorothy approached them, emerging from her dwelling.

"A tragedy," she lamented, sadness welling in her eyes.

"You know I must end this," Elduran responded curtly.

"Yes, I understand. But that doesn't lessen the waste, ghost or not, it is still a life" Dorothy replied.

Cyndaquil appeared crestfallen, sensing what Elduran was about to do. Vivillon flitted closer, striving to lift its spirits. Heracross looked worn out. Elduran contemplated recalling him to his Pokéball for some much-needed respite after the grueling past three days. Yet, one final task awaited. He clutched his knife firmly with both hands, plunging it deep into Drifblim's form. So faint was it that it didn't stir as it dissipated into mist, then vanished entirely.

Elduran reattached his bow, retrieved the arrow from the spot where Drifblim had lingered moments before, and returned it to his quiver. Kneeling beside Cyndaquil, he spoke, "Remember, Forge, you can't show mercy to those who aim to harm you. It may sadden you now, but imagine the grief if it had awoken and harmed me, Viv, or Blue."

"Cyyyyn," Cyndaquil murmured, its expression a blend of sadness and comprehension.

Dorothy approached Elduran and extended her hand. He rose to accept the handshake. "Thank you for everything. I've never witnessed anyone fight alongside their Pokémon as you have," she admitted.

Elduran assured Heracross that he needed to rest, promising the next time he would emerge from his Pokéball, it would be at a Pokémon Center. With that, he recalled him back into his Pokéball. Turning back to Dorothy, he confessed, "Fighting alongside my Pokémon is likely to get me killed someday, but for now, it remains a necessity."

"I won't pry. It's obvious you and that girl have reasons far beyond simple joy rides, battling trainers, or collecting gym badges. Your business is your own. You should find some rest," Dorothy advised, her expression serious.

Elduran appreciated her discretion, sparing him the need for fabricated answers to uncomfortable questions. He left Vivillon and Cyndaquil outside their Pokéballs since they preferred sleeping in the open. While most Pokémon favored the ideal virtual environment provided by a Pokéball for rest, these two insisted on staying out—perhaps wary that he might make a reckless decision and put himself in danger. Vivillon and Cyndaquil had witnessed enough loss in recent times.

He walked with measured deliberation, arriving at the building once more. Without hesitation, he headed directly for the lower bunk bed as before. Vivillon fluttered to the upper bunk, while Cyndaquil nestled beside Elduran. In moments, all three were fast asleep.

Dorothy lingered outside, entranced by the night sky and the stillness surrounding her. Ensuring that Elduran had retreated indoors, she permitted the tears to fall. Drifblim was truly gone. Her error had been addressed, yet it could never be undone. It was her fault that poor Jay had perished, he was a good worker. Drifblim had claimed only one human life, but it had also led to the demise of numerous livestock. She gazed toward the distant chicken coop at the quarry's edge—only seven fowl remained. The turmoil had wrought immeasurable havoc; laborers were reluctant to venture here, leading to food shortages and a pervasive dread after sundown.

She sat down before the place where Drifblim had perished, gazing at the spot as if it could return her gaze. She hesitated, pondering her words like someone preparing a speech for an audience. "I am so sorry you had to die. I know it’s my fault, and my being here now, with you gone… wherever you are, offers no peace, I understand that," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I should never have released you; I was weak. I abandoned you, my own child. I couldn’t handle your evolution, that much was clear, but who casts their children to the winds? You must have searched for me for decades, seeking vengeance, yet when you found me you never attacked me directly. Instead, you destroyed everything around me. I would have let you end my life for closure, but what you did, Floaty, harmed innocents. I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I was a terrible trainer. I’m sorry... for everything."

She stood and began her walk away from the quarry, heading toward the shadowed stone mesas that loomed majestically against the horizon. At dawn, the view from their heights offered an unparalleled perspective, one that seemed to promise clarity and peace. Leaving now meant she would arrive just in time for the sunrise—a moment of profound significance in her heart. As she walked, a sense of finality enveloped her, as if this solitary journey required the perfect convergence of place and time.

Elduran's eyes fluttered open as he turned his head to the side; the windows were shrouded in darkness. The still of night lingered outside. Returning to sleep seemed futile. He glanced at his watch, noting the hour—4:30 a.m. Though his slumber had been fragmented, he had exceeded his usual five hours of rest. He felt refreshed. Rising carefully to avoid disturbing Cyndaquil, nestled cozily beside him, he noticed Dorothy’s bed was empty—as was the kitchen. He pondered her whereabouts briefly but dismissed the thought; his task here was complete, and he needed nothing further from her. He ambled to the kitchen, found a small pot, and embarked on his ritual—coffee was paramount, come what may. Spying some dried meat on the table with a note instructing him to take it along, he took a bite, identifying it as chicken. It tasted quite agreeable, and he packed the remainder for his journey while the coffee brewed.

Sipping the freshly brewed coffee, Elduran cleaned the pot and table before proceeding to the beds. He recalled Cyndaquil and Vivillon to their Pokéballs, then removed the used bed linens, depositing them in a laundry bin a few feet away. Gathering fresh sheets from a nearby open shelf cabinet, he made both beds anew. He polished off the dregs of his coffee, washed the mug, slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, and embarked on his march toward Dirthrow. After a short five-minute walk, he cast a backward glance toward the quarry. Realizing he had never seen a name for this place, he could still not spot one from this vantage. The Nameless Quarry, Elduran decided, was a fitting moniker to etch into his memory.

He observed that Route 113 was heavily trafficked. The paths worn by constant human passage and the trek of large Pokémon were unmistakably clear. Even in the deepest night, their presence was evident. The footprints of Copperajah, were impossible to overlook. Dorothy faced considerable challenges; she was simply doing what was necessary to sustain herself and her workers.

The horizon slowly warmed with the first whispers of sunlight, casting golden rays across the rocky desert. Shadows of towering cacti stretched long over the brown soil, their silhouettes sharp against the soft pink and orange hues that painted the sky. As the sun's gentle glow crept over the rugged terrain, each jagged rock and spine-tipped plant bathed in a light that seemed to breathe life into the desert, setting the stage for another day of stark beauty and quiet resilience.

In the stretches of open sky above, Gligar glided occasionally, their bat-like wings casting fleeting shadows on the ground. They showed mild interest in the traveler below, but a gust of wind would soon carry them further, leaving the desert's silence behind.

Nearby, a group of Makuhita practiced their sparring, their stout yellow figures rhythmically punching the air with determined gestures. The sound of their rehearsed movements mixed with the desert wind, creating a rhythmic pulse that marked the desert's hidden life.

The varied mix of Pokémon added vibrancy to the landscape, transforming the barren expanse into a tapestry of life woven into the rocks and cacti.

Elduran seeing that many Pokémon up and about already this early in the morning took out Cyndaquil and Vivillon out of their Pokéballs for safety. Cyndaquil emerged first, landing gently on the ground with a curious gleam in its eyes. Its back flickered with tiny, playful flames. Eager and full of energy, Cyndaquil sniffed the air, inquisitive about the scents and sounds of the open desert around it. Above, Vivillon unfurled with a delicate grace, its vibrant wings stretching in a flourish of red and white. The air shimmered as it took flight, gliding effortlessly in a circle around Elduran. Its aerial dance infused the environment with a sense of calm, Vivillon's gentle presence a vivid counterpoint to the rugged desert below.

Cyndaquil trotted ahead, growling at every cactus he passed, as if each thorny plant was his sworn foe. Elduran couldn't help but chuckle softly, though it was clear that Cyndaquil needed to mature quickly. Encountering yet another cactus, Cyndaquil growled and stumbled back, almost bumping into another prickly adversary. This misstep agitated him so much that in a fiery outburst, he set the cactus ablaze. Elduran sighed, preparing to instruct Vivillon to use Gust to quench the flames, but then the cactus moved. A flurry of needles erupted, embedding themselves in Cyndaquil—it was a Cacnea he had enflamed. Vivillon darted toward Cyndaquil's side, ready to help, but Elduran held Vivillon back. Cyndaquil needed to understand the repercussions of his fiery temperament.

"Forge, use Ember," Elduran instructed with calm authority.

Cyndaquil complied, unleashing a stream of fire from his mouth, which surged towards Cacnea. The opponent attempted to shield itself, arms raised futilely against the onslaught. Already singed, Cacnea bore the brunt of the full attack, visibly anguished. It began to roll frantically on the ground to quench the flames, all the while flinging sand towards Cyndaquil's face. Not a bad tactic, Elduran mused.

"Don't let it regain its footing. Use Leer, then follow up with Ember!" Elduran directed, keeping his tone even.

Cyndaquil fixed a menacing gaze upon Cacnea, his eyes flashing ominously. Cacnea flinched, if only for a heartbeat, before another torrent of flame engulfed it, this time striking its face directly. The Cacnea attempted to set up Ingrain, but the Ember was too much, causing it to faint nearly instantly.

"Viv, use a gentle Gust to snuff out the flames. We don't want that freak Aisha to glean something from my expression next time we see her," Elduran added, his smile soft. Vivillon sent delicate gusts of wind to extinguish the lingering fire. Cyndaquil glowed with joy from his swift victory.

Elduran approached Cyndaquil, kneeling to meet his gaze. "You must exercise caution, Forge. Well done on the win, but this battle was wholly unnecessary. The Cacnea meant no harm, merely tending to its own affairs."

Cyndaquil lowered his head, but this time without tears. A sign of progress, Elduran noted. Then, raising his head, he looked at Elduran with closed eyes, softly uttering a "Cyyyn," acknowledging and absorbing his advice. Though not one for words, Cyndaquil didn’t need verbal communication to convey that he had learned his lesson sincerely.

Elduran glanced at Cacnea; it was evident it would survive, provided no predator Pokémon lurked nearby, beyond his control. Dirthrow appeared in the distance, just as Dorothy had described—a dreary place. The monorail track stretched to his left, leading him onward.

Approaching the town's edge, Elduran couldn't shake the thought: this place had squandered potential. Situated by a river, facing the sea, and encircled by stunning stone mesas, it could have been remarkable. Such lost potential. Instead, he saw a cluster of dilapidated stone buildings. From his vantage point, none appeared well-maintained, and the road was no more than a dirt path, beginning—or ending—at his feet, depending on one's perspective.

This didn't trouble Elduran much; he wasn't here for the scenery, but for a mission. He checked his watch, 7:00 AM. There was no chance Aisha was up without him waking her—unless she had a reason, as on the day they met. Thus, her early arrival in Dirthrow was advantageous only if she'd accomplished something the previous night, which Elduran doubted. An idea struck him: he would handle that first before heading to the Pokémon Center. It was best not to have a young girl around for what he intended to do.