We materialized out in the forest near the Dreamyard, since that was where we were most familiar. Ionia pretty much instantly nestled down into my hood and began sleeping from her exertions. Something we knew was going to happen, and planned for.

  We would’ve been fools to not have asked for help from the local Psychic types, after all.

  I began walking towards where our intended meet up spot was, with a spring in my step. I had done it! I went directly against my gene donors and once I was able to get to Nacrene City, there wouldn’t be anything he could do about it!

  The only downside to this whole thing was that I wouldn’t be able to see their faces when they found out. Although being there to see it would mean he’d instantly turn everything on me…

  Yeaaaah, that’s definitely for the best.

  The forest itself was a bit dense, but was still easily navigable thanks to the lessons Ionia’s mother gave me on not getting hopelessly lost in forests back in the Blueberry Terrarium. The artificial nature of the school did have a few key differences to natural locations, such as size, but the incredible psychic abilities of the Hatterene more than made up for it.

  As I walked, I glanced off to the side to see a small wild pack of Herdier that had moved into a small cave. They and their Lillipup were all sleeping inside, their pack leader standing guard against any intruding nocturnal Pokemon. A no nonsense, but friendly Stoutland had no doubt known exactly where we were the second we teleported in thanks to her strong senses.

  As I entered the clearing I gave her a short bow.

  “Hello Mrs. Stoutland. I hope you are doing well.”

  She looked me over, noticing the sleeping Ionia in my hood, and cocked her head inquisitively as if to ask what I was doing out so late.

  “I’m getting away from my sperm donor tonight,” Mrs. Stoutland growled at the mention of them. He wasn’t popular with the wild Pokemon either, in fact I was the only one in my family remotely tolerated by them. “With him, egg donor, and Jason out of town for some business stuff, and Ionia and I being completely ready to go, I decided to just go for it tonight.”

  “Stout. Stoutland.”

  “Yeah, I probably won’t be able to come back for a while. Can you tell all the Lillipup I said hello and bye, for me?”

  Before she could respond, a distinct psychic cry swept over the forest, one of undeniable distress. Ionia and I both gave out a cry of pain as Mrs. Stoutland shot to her feet..

  Musharna?! Why was she screaming like that!?

  As I shook myself out of the slight confusion, me and Mrs. Stoutland shared a look, before she gave a quick bark to alert her pack before she rushed to me, and motioned impatiently for me to get on her back not even a moment after she slid to a stop beside me.

  “I-I know Mrs. Stoutland. I’m hurrying!”

  Once I was settled, she took off like a Woobat out of hell. The forest blurred around us as we wove between the trees, Mrs. Stoutland howling out a warning for all smaller Pokemon to stay away.

  She was clearly going as fast as she possibly could, bristling with anger at whoever was attacking her home. Quickly enough, we began to hear sounds of battle, a slurry of sounds that eventually resolved into Pokemon cries, explosions and crashes from moves, and a single voice shouting out demands.

  A human voice.

  I could feel my anger simmering.

  How dare someone attack Pokemon in their own homes! Let alone in a protected habitat!

  Leaning forward, I spoke into Mrs. Stoutland’s ear. “When we reach them, I’ll jump off your back so you can do what you need to.”

  With an affirmative bark in response, I braced myself for what was to come. Ionia was in no shape to battle. She was far too worn out from the telepathy and teleports she had made earlier. As unfortunate as it was, I would have to help on my own by going for the actual trainer. I wouldn’t dare to try and give any of the wild Pokemon orders without some sort of idea of what moves they could use. It was incredibly disrespectful, and if I gave an order they couldn’t follow through on it could easily get them hurt.

  The trees gave way to a small clearing in front of a dilapidated series of buildings. The sounds of battle were coming from inside the largest one, with flashes of light coming through holes in the walls and even up through the almost nonexistent roof.

  Not wasting time, I jumped off Mrs. Stoutland’s back just to fall to the ground with a grunt. I was spared a pitying look before the elder hound burst into the building with a howl.

  I pulled myself to my feet, and Ionia hopped onto my shoulder, still clearly fighting sleep.

  “Ionia, I’m returning you.” I said holding up her blue and pink painted Canvas Ball. “You’re still too tired from earlier.”

  I left the part unsaid that if a Psychic type as strong as the Dreamyard’s Musharna was struggling, Ionia wouldn’t stand a chance right now. She had been the overseer of the area for decades, even having had a run-in with Plasma back in the day, at least, according to the rumors.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  She reluctantly nodded, and was soon pulled into a swirl of light entering her ball. I immediately crept towards the nearest hole, and looked inside. The interior was trashed a lot more than it was the last time I was here, with debris crushing large swaths of plant growth that had taken over the abandoned building over the years.

  Musharna and Mrs. Stoutland were both facing off against a menacing Obstagoon and Thievul. I wasn’t remotely surprised by the attacker’s type of choice, but the use of two Pokemon almost never seen outside of Galar had me scratching my head.

  “You may have gotten yourself a friend sweet cheeks, but that won’t stop us! Now come quietly or I’ll be forced to hurt this little fighter here!”

  That accent was decidedly not Galarian. I knew it sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Shoving the currently unimportant thought from my head, I searched for the source of the voice and soon found it.

  If the situation wasn't so serious, I would’ve busted out giggling.

  The poacher was wearing some sort of silvery armor with black scarves trailing from his collar, a cylindrical case strapped to his back. A helmet with a black eye guard covered his entire head, except for his mouth and chin. importantly however, was the struggling Emolga gripped tightly in his hand.

  “Mush! Musharn!”

  The pair of wild Pokemon were both tensed and ready to attack again, only held back by the explicit threat.

  “I came here to get some powerful Pokemon, and that’s what I’m damn well gonna get!”

  The guy reminded of my sperm donor more than anything, demanding his every whim be catered to after he barged in and ruined everything. I could practically hear him saying what this guy was saying word for word, and it was making my blood boil even further.

  Sneaking away from the standoff, I crept to a closer entrance while picking up a club-like branch. Peeking through the hole closest to him, the guy was spouting off about how generous he was for ‘not burning the entire area to the ground’. I rolled my eyes and crossed over, carefully sneaking closer and closer. The Thievul’s ears twitched for a moment, and he began to turn only for Mrs. Stoutland to take a step forward and snarl.

  Her timely distraction pulled the attention completely back to her, both Dark types matching the growling right back.

  The idiot pointed at my friends, a smirk rising on his face. “Hah! You think you’ll send us packing like that? You don’t look so-huh?”

  Finally close enough, I tapped him on the shoulder. Turning around, the man discovered first hand why humans didn’t usually fight themselves. A clang almost like a bell echoed through the alleyway, followed by a frozen moment of silence.

  He crumpled to the ground instantly, releasing the Emolga who flew away in fear. Both his Pokemon had turned around to glare at me. I froze, both in confusion and horror.

  They felt wrong on some level.

  For my entire life, I could hear a sort of unique song from any Pokemon close to me, one that I eventually learned to slightly read after a while. The melody carried their thoughts, emotions, each one a tumult of sound that was hard to parse without spending a lot of time with them yet beautiful all the same. I had barely managed to learn Ionia’s song, and she was easily the Pokemon I had spent the most time with.

  The idiot’s Pokemon felt… blocked off somehow?

  To explain, it is laughably easy to tell wild Pokemon from ones being raised by a trainer since the song shifted dramatically when they were caught. The arrangement became both far more organized and somewhat restrained the second they entered a pokeball. Like how using a mute on a trumpet changed the volume and sound of its noise.

  This was different, like a smothering curtain that blocked nearly all sound from escaping from them. It was incredibly unnerving, an anomaly I had never seen before. They were like a void standing there in front of me, blank spaces where something should be that just… wasn’t.

  The only thing that saved me from a ball of dark energy hurtling towards me was a small weight hitting me in the side and knocking me over. The Dark Pulse shot through the doorway behind me and exploded.

  Before either could react further, the pair of Dark types were instantly beset upon by Mrs. Stoutland laying into them with kicks and bites while Musharna placed Reflect screens around them to hamper their movement. Realizing they were using stalling tactics at best, I crawled to the poacher, and searched him until I found his two Pokeballs and returned them both.

  Leaning back with a sigh, I looked over to find what had crashed into me.

  It was the Emolga from earlier!

  She was covered in bruises, and passed out on the ground next to me as a result of her action. I swiftly pulled off my backpack, frantically digging through the medicine pocket for a potion. Finding the bottle full of purple ointment, I gently sprayed the poor Emolga’s injuries as quickly as I could. Ionia even released herself now that the threat was over, and tried in vain to conjure up a Life Dew.

  I gave her a small smile, brushing a hand against her tail. “Ionia, you’re still too exhausted. I know you want to help, but please let me handle this for now ok?”

  “Tenna! Hattenna Hat!”

  Her protests were only half-hearted, and she resigned herself to standing by to read the injured Pokemon’s emotions in case she woke up angry or scared. Her bruises had all been sprayed down, and were starting to fade away, so I put her in what I hoped was a comfortable position, before I moved away to investigate what the hell was going on.

  I chuckled at the somewhat absurd position he had fallen into before the case he had caught my eye. It was a bit longer than the length of my arm from hand to shoulder, and about as big around as a basketball. Eventually I found what I was looking for, and I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. The case was in fact a stolen parcel, from some guy named Krane, and addressed to Professor Juniper in Nuvema. I couldn’t tell if the thug was some sort of shady courier or not, so I pulled the case off of him.

  I looked over, stiffening when I saw Mrs. Stoutland and Musharna looking at me. I hastily began to bow, but was stopped by a psychic voice before I could.

  “At ease child, there is no need for that level of etiquette tonight. Particularly since you were instrumental in the interloper’s defeat.”

  I let myself relax, “Thank you Lady Musharna. Do you know who the thug is? Was he Plasma?”

  “No, not Plasma. That band of thugs only exists in history now. This is something new.”

  “What about the case?” I lifted it up, “It’s addressed to Professor Juniper, but was he a courier?”

  “No, he was boasting about stealing it when he entered our lands.” She paused for a moment, “You should journey south to Nuvema with your partner, Aurorea Juniper and her wife are trustworthy friends.”

  After a moment of thought, she chuckled, “They might even be able to help with the actual reason you came out here tonight.”

  I glanced at my backpack, still resting on the ground next to the injured Pokemon. “Maybe? As far as I know, she isn’t super big into the fossil side of things. That’s more the Nacrene Museum’s thing.”

  “It was just a suggestion. Although it would still be best for you to deliver the parcel yourself. You might attract attention otherwise.”

  “I guess…” I walked over and crouched down next to my backpack and strapped it to the top, right next to the pouch containing the fossil.

  “Looks like you might have to wait a bit longer,” I sighed, “I’m sorry.”

  Closing the zipper, I sat up and looked at the tired looking Stoutland.

  “Thank you for the help,Mrs. Stoutland. Even if the circumstances weren’t necessarily the best.”

  She nodded to me, and then to Musharna, before she gallantly walked out of the building.

  “Hatenna!”

  Eye going wide, I spun towards Ionia’s urgent cry.

  The Emolga was starting to wake up.

  Aliapanacea for help editing!

  Pokemon seen this chapter:

  Stoutland

  Current Team:

  Trained Abilities: Anticipation

  Moves: Teleport, Confusion, Play Nice, Life Dew, Disarming Voice

  Do you want more words written by me?

  A Spark of Sylvan Flame: A story about a trans farmgirl facing off against plant aliens, with items bought from an AI chip in her head!