Shattered Selves (M)

Well, I see what the title is referring to, here. :V

I know you're bringing this over from elsewhere. It's new enough that it's got Gen VII, but I'm guessing this is still a bit outdated and imagine you've improved the farther you've gotten into this story. So, not really going to have too much to say in the way of criticisms. All in all, I thought it was a solid start. And one that's rather interesting, since you go through the trouble of introducing us to Glace and teaching us about her daily routine, only to send all of tha crashing down and tell us that her whole life is basically one gigantic lie. Geez, way to break your main chracter right off the bat there. I could argue that maybe Glace bounced back from this revelation a bit too quickly. But this is a world of magical creatures that can shoot elements from their faces, so I'm totally okay overlooking it. ^^

Even though I'm pretty sure that it's classic to start off a story with a "normal day," and then have things go wrong, I really do like your take on it. Sure, the revelation from Sonata that the multiverse is collapsing makes it blatantly obvious what the story is about as opposed to, say, leaving it a mystery for me to try and guess. But I do like the sort of Majora's Mask vibe that it gives off. And, again, I think it was interesting that "things going wrong" didn't translate into some sort of crazy action scene, but rather an existential crisis for Glace. I wonder if that's going to be a bit of a thing for this story? I thought the vision that was used to present the shole "shattered souls" thing was sufficiently trippy and mindscrewy. And I liked the teases that it provided as to some of the characters we'll be running into later. Though, the only one I think I could pick out was a Ditto, but that's just because I'm not good with foreshadowing or anything.

As far as characters go, I don't have much of an opinion on Glace and Sonata yet. Sonata seemed quite put together for someone who went through the same bit of mental turmoil we saw Glace go through. I think you had a bit of a missed opportunity with Sonata's memories, toward the end. I think it would have helped as far as getting a sense of her character to watch the memories play out as an actual scene rather than just get a bit of a play-by-play summary from Glace's POV. Though, for all I know, that might happen later, and this was just a bit of a teaser, so to speak. Glace is a bit better illustrated. She's a withdrawn loner. Someone who's constantly on her guard. You illustrated that well through her pretty terse dialogue and her cautious body language. Of course, in order for her to become whole, she's going to have to get over that. So, I see where the character development will be coming into play.

Only other thing is a bit nitpickety. I just thought it kind of strange just how much the first scene is littered with "the dojo." I know, there really aren't any good alternatives, there. But it felt like you were using "the dojo" in practically every sentence, and it threw me a bit off, so I thought I'd point out.

This definitely looks like it'll be fun, though. I'm always up for hopping dimensions and all the shenanigans that come with it. ^^

---

The first rays of the morning sun peered over the horizon and flooded into Lilac City. It was the dawn of a new day. A new day meant a fresh start to forget anything that had happened the day before and to start anew. It was a brand new day of untapped potential and adventure for everyone slumbering within the city.

Almost everyone, that was.

A Tranquill awoke the moment the light settled over his eyes. No one was there with him. Only he lived in his room, or a hutch as he always preferred to call it. It certainly reminded him of the coops that the farmers of the city kept their uncivilized Pidgey with how there was not a single window in the room. Steel wire replaced where any glass panes should be. The wire also replaced half the walls, specifically the walls that faced east so that the sunlight would hit him without fail every morning. To his right, there lay a large, wooden box for him to wander into at any time that had no steel to replace the walls. It made a decent shelter during the stormy nights when the wind howled louder than the Mightyena packs in the midst of a hunt and when the rain left you shuddering whenever it pelted you.

Yes, this place was most certainly a hutch.

But he didn't fret. He took comfort in the fact that unlike those Pidgey, he could actually leave the coop on his own. There was not a single lock to be found on it.

The Tranquill stretched out his wings before he stood up from his nest-like bed. He picked off the straws of hay that stuck to his plumage, meticulously pulling out every last fiber, until he was completely spotless. Once he had done that, the Tranquill stepped out of his nest and walked to the little door built into the wire mesh near his bed. He pushed it all the way open with his head and then stepped into the doorway.

He looked out to see that he stood high over a great forest of evergreens that covered the land for miles and miles. In the distance, he could see a river weaving its way through the thick foliage, as well as a few mountains' hazy outlines looming in the distance. He even saw other flying-types soaring through the air, some of which he felt were also Tranquill. The body shape and the feathers' sheen in the morning light certainly reminded him of his own.

It didn't really matter, however. They wouldn't be much of a bother. The Tranquill spread his wings and then leapt forward. He swiftly flapped his wings just as he began to plummet, and caught the wind under his feathers. He barely dropped a few inches before he swooped back up and returned to his parallel position with his hutch. He looked back at it and admired how it still managed to stay latched onto that towering tree's trunk even after so many years. He really thought that the nails keeping the hutch attached to the tree would have rusted by now and sent the hutch tumbling down into the forest below. Perhaps the nails were useless now and only the branch resting beneath the hutch kept it in its place. The Tranquill didn't know.

But just like with those flying-types he had seen earlier, it really didn't matter if he knew. It didn't make much of a difference.

The Tranquil kept his gaze on his home for just a moment longer, and then flew away.

---

Many minutes later, the Tranquill found himself in the midst of Lilac City. Since the sun had just barely risen, not many Pokémon were roaming about its cobblestone streets. There were a few dozen from what he could tell, but they were mostly merchants leaving their homes and setting up shop for the day. But other than that, the town was quiet and in a state of lull.

The only real activity of Lilac City was from the tower mills. There were five mills in the entire city, each one standing atop one of the small, isolated hills throughout the vicinity. Four of them rested on hills that landmarked the corners of the town. The fifth one, the largest of them all with twice the mass of the others, stood in the very center of the town. Each and every one of the mill's set of sails spun as a soft breeze pushed through the city. They moved so slowly that the Tranquill knew that he could probably sit on one of the sails for a full minute before he would be forced to fly away lest he plummet to the ground.

Of course, it wasn't the season for strong gales to blow through the city right now. That would be in another couple of months, and then the city would surely have more than enough energy to make all the paper they wanted with all the wood pulp they surely had gathered in storage. The Tranquill was sure that the mills had other uses, but he had never cared to wonder what they were. To him, the mills were more tourist attractions or landmarks for the city than to actually gather power from the wind.

He turned his attention away from the mills and continued on with his flight until he found himself at his destination; a brick building with a single tower protruding out of the roof. A red flag raveled limply in the breeze from the tower. He saw the words "Lilac City Guard Guild" printed on the one side of the fabric that would occasionally unfurl completely in moments of a strong, momentary gust.

The Tranquill settled himself on the ground by the entryway before tucking his wings into his body the moment both of his feet firmly planted on the ground. Then, after taking a moment to catch his breath, he made his way into the building.

When the Tranquill entered the building, he found that just like the city, it was mostly vacant. No voices bounded off the walls of the building, nor did any footsteps. However, the Tranquill knew that the building wasn't totally vacant. Someone was always here at the crack of dawn, specifically waiting for Pokémon like him.

And after a moment of wandering through the winding hallways and passing by several rooms, the Tranquill found that very Pokémon. There, behind a large counter of a spacious room filled with shelves of papers and books, stood a Haxorus. He didn't seem to notice that the Tranquill had just walked in. He instead continued to glance through a number of pages resting before him with a bored, vacant expression.

The Tranquill made his way over the front of the counter, but stayed back far enough so that the Haxorus could actually see him the moment he stopped reading those papers. The counter towered over a good many of guild members that were taller than even the Tranquill, much to everyone's chagrin, but no one had ever bothered to get a shorter counter. It supposedly was too much trouble.

"Sir, I'm here to report for my shift today," the Tranquill stated.

The Haxorus lifted his head and quickly caught the Tranquill's eye. The moment the two locked eyes, the Haxorus cracked a smile.

"Ah, right on time as always," the Haxorus noted. "Thanks for checking in."

"It's not an issue, sir. Is there anything I should know about before I head to the tower?"

"Oh Patience, you know the answer to that already. Do you really need to ask that?"

Patience had to resist sighing. Yes, he did know the answer to his question. It had been the same answer for a very long time now. He didn't know why he had even asked.

"Alright. Thank you. I'll see you in the evening," Patience then said.

"See you. Don't fall asleep up there," the Haxorus replied.

The Haxorus went back to leafing through his papers. Patience turned away soon after and walked toward the door at the other side of the room. Once he reached it, he exited out of the guild and found himself back outside once again. The sun shined much brighter now, making Patience's entire vision fill with an irritating glare. He quickly squinted his eyes and forced himself to stare at the ground.

When the light no longer suffocated his vision and there were no fuzzy lights to be seen dancing before him, he pushed off against the ground with his legs. He flapped his wings down as he shot into the sky, pushing him higher into the sky. Then, he flapped his wings up, spreading apart his feathers so that the wind couldn't push him back down to the ground.

Flap up in a forward motion, and then flap down with feathers split apart. Repeat over and over again while using your tail to help with sharp turns.

Such simple directions done so swiftly. It was all subconscious really, something so simple to do that you didn't even need to think about it once you practiced enough.

So many Pokémon envied the flying-types wings and their ability to soar with the wind. They looked at the flying-types' wings and they wished that they too could be as free as the flying-types. After all, what could possibly make you feel more free than the thought that you could go anywhere you wanted to be? No one could hold you down, no matter how hard they tried. Once you were in the sky and had the wind beneath your wings, you were invincible and the pilot of your own destiny.

But Patience knew the truth, and the truth was, no one could ever be absolutely free. Deep down, everyone was shackled to something, whether it be an obligation or a perpetual routine forged after many years of monotonous activities. The flying-types were no exception with their wings only being a means of slightly faster transportation than running on multiple legs. They were not the embodiment of freedom.

Especially not Patience.

---

It wasn't long before Patience found himself near the forest he had left behind earlier that morning. Except this time, he was by the side of the forest that faced directly toward the city's entrance. A large trail weaved its way through that side of the forest, stretching from far past the horizon to the very gate that lead to the city.

And there, standing at the border between the Lilac City and the forest, stood the watchtower Patience sought. It was a metal structure that stood high over the forest and city, looming over them almost as high as the mills of the city. The very top of it was nothing more than a box, and to access it, one had to climb up a ladder that lead up to it in a corkscrew pattern.

Of course, Patience didn't have to use that ladder. With a few flaps and a change in angling, he propelled himself up to the very top of the watchtower. When he found himself right above the edge of the box, he pulled his wings toward his back and gripped the thin metal with his talons. He lurched forward for just a moment, but didn't fall from his perch. He only waited for the momentum finish its toll on him, and then turned around and faced the forest that sprawled past Lilac City for miles and miles.

It was time to begin his shift.

For the next twelve hours, he needed to watch that forest. He needed to see what Pokémon were coming through it and had intentions of entering Lilac City.

It wasn't a job for everyone. Not everyone could identify every known Pokémon species within seconds. With the species count surpassing nine hundred, it was easy to mix up a few Pokémon. Mistaking Pidgey for Pidove was quite a common mistake for instance, along with thinking that Emolga were Pikachu. Patience had heard of the other sentry Pokémon before him making a number of clumsy mistakes with their duty. One of them, an Electabuzz, identified so many Pokémon incorrectly on one bad day that the guild forced him to spend an entire night correcting all the inaccurate paperwork they had filed regarding who had visited the city.

Everyone expected that Patience would be the same when he first joined the guard guild those many years ago. After all, he was only a fledgling of ten years who had just left his home behind. How could a Tranquill who had no life experience prior do any better than far older Pokémon?

Patience noticed a flash of movement amongst the green in the forest. He straightened himself up as he peered down and waited for the Pokémon to show itself. Within the moments, the Pokémon emerged from the thick forest. It appeared to be a bipedal, brown Pokémon with a green hood over its head. Patience couldn't see its face from beneath its hood, but he didn't have to see its face to know what the Pokémon was. It was an easy one; a Decidueye. Only Decidueye had that green hood and that feather sticking out of the top of it, not to mention they were the only Pokémon with unnaturally long, white legs to hurry through the night with.

"Decidueye," Patience called. "Where are you from and what is your purpose for coming to Lilac City?"

The Decidueye stopped in its tracks. It peered up at Patience with a misty look in its eyes and for a moment said nothing.

"Oh. Oh right, this city has a sentry monitoring who goes in," the Decidueye realized. "Friend of mine told me that, but I didn't remember until just now."

"Where are you from and what is your purpose for coming to Lilac City?" Patience said again in a bland tone.

"I'm passing through so I can reach Jasmine Town. I'll probably be here for the night since I've been travelling for quite a while. And I came from Daffodil Town."

"Very well. You can go."

The Decidueye gave Patience a nod, and then made his way toward the city's entrance. Patience leapt off his perch and settled himself inside the tower's box. He then grabbed a blank piece of parchment from a pile resting near his feet, along with a pad of ink. After he dragged the both of them over to his side, he opened up the pad and then pressed the tip of his beak into the pad. He ignored the strong scent running into his nostrils as he scribbled a simple message onto the paper. Within seconds, the words "Decidueye from Daffodil Town- Passing through" were inscribed at the very top of paper.

The Tranquill lifted his beak from the paper and then flew back to his perch before he resumed his watch over the forest.

How large was the forest? Patience had never known for certain. Despite all his years of watching over this spacious, empty forest, he had never asked anyone how many trees it was. Perhaps it was a two hundred tree forest? No, that was most certainly too small. It had to be at least a five hundred tree forest with how much space lay between the watchtower and the mountains. Maybe it had been a three hundred tree forest when he first started his job, but it had grown over the years.

How many years had he been watching this forest again? He had become a sentry at age ten, he knew that. Ten was the age Pokémon were deemed capable of providing meaningful service to society. The very day he turned ten he became a sentry.

But how long had he been a sentry? Could it have been ten years? He wouldn't have been surprised if it had been that long. He certainly felt he had been watching the forest for the same amount of years he had been a hatchling. Or maybe it had been even longer. Maybe he had been a sentry for twenty years.

Patience didn't know.

There was another movement in the sea of green. Patience eyed the opening of the forest and saw a Pokémon once again. This one had black and blue fur with streaks of yellow and walked upon four legs. Obviously this was an electric-type. Only electric-types held that color scheme for the most part. Now what electric-types walked on all fours with those colors?

"Luxray," Patience called out. "Where are you from and what is your purpose for entering Lilac City?"

The aforementioned Pokémon stopped and looked up at the Tranquill. His stern expression didn't break.

"I have a friend who lives here that I came to visit," the Luxray answered. "Her name is Ivy and she's a baker here. I came from Sage Village."

"Very well. You can go."

The Luxray brought his gaze back to the city entrance and carried on his way. Patience swooped back down into the box and once again dipped his beak into the ink pad. Then, he wrote "Luxray from Sage Village- Visiting" on the paper right below the line stating the Decidueye's information. He barely even remembered writing the words by the time he landed back on his perch and resumed his watch over the forest.

Patience could still see the river that resided near his home. It had shrunk down quite considerably in size from his current distance and had become barely anything more than a miniscule creek, but he could still see the glistening of the water's surface. He wondered what sorts of Pokémon lived in that water. Perhaps a small family of Squirtle or Poliwag? Maybe there were even some Magikarp in that river. Perhaps Patience could swoop down to that river after his shift and catch a Magikarp. He always did find their flavor quite rich and salty.

Why did the Magikarp taste so good anyway? They were the most common water-types to be found. Every single flying-type that was also an active hunter loved to eat them. Surely, if they were so plentiful, they shouldn't taste as wonderful as they actually were. Everyone would have caught them if that was the case and fished them out of extinction. And yet, they remained so numerous in so many of the rivers and seas of the world. Could it be because they all had the potential to become those ferocious Gyarados that could ravage entire villages? Was that capability to become those fearsome beasts deep within their bodies what made their meat so tasteful?

Patience saw the blur of movement near the opening of the forest again. This time there were two upstanding Pokémon emerging from the forest. One appeared to be a black-furred Pokémon with a large, red mane tied together with what seemed to be a black rag. The other was a brown, scaly Pokémon with a skull helmet covering a majority of its head, preventing Patience from being able to read its facial expression.

The brown one most definitely was a Marowak. Only Marowak wore skulls on their heads. The other one was a Zoroark, as it held the bushy mane Zoroark were known for, as well as having red claws on its paws and feet.

And yet, even though Patience knew what species these two were, he could not fight off a nagging feeling that something about them was not right. Nothing about their appearance was unnatural, and no malicious intent seemed to glimmer in their eyes, but his innards continued to crawl.

"Marowak and Zoroark," Patience called out, forcing himself to ignore the feeling. "Where are you from and what is your purpose for entering Lilac City?"

The two of them stopped and looked up at him. For a moment, they said nothing and only stared up at him with puzzled frowns. At least, the Zoroark did. Patience still couldn't see the Marowak's expression behind his helmet.

"Huh?" the Zoroark asked.

"Where are you from and what is your purpose for entering Lilac City?" Patience stated again.

"Why do you want to know?" the Zoroark asked in return.

"Because I am the sentry of Lilac City and I'm required to ask every visitor that wants to enter why they want to do so," Patience stated in a dull tone. "It is so we can keep track of how many Pokémon are in the city and who they might be. It is a safety precaution."

"So you guys like, monitor everyone coming in, in case someone does something bad and you kind of have an idea of who they were and who they came from so you can track them down later."

"Essentially."

"Huh, that's actually kind of cool. Nobody ever did that where I was from as far as I can remember. They ever do that where you were from, Dimitri?"

"No, there wasn't any need," the Marowak answered with a shake of his head. "We had more efficient ways of keeping track of who was where."

"You mean with those weird things you guys wore on your wrists?"

"Yes, we used those. They connected to everything in the city and if you ever-"

"Where are you two from and what is your purpose for entering Lilac City?" Patience cut in, barely able to suppress a sigh.

"Oh. Oh right," the Zoroark said as she turned back to the Tranquill with a nervous laugh. "Sorry about that. We wanted to come here because we wanted to try living here. It seems like a nice place. Nice and quiet and everything."

"And where you're from?" Patience asked.

"Uh… We're from Amethyst City."

Patience slowly shook his head. These two Pokémon really were something. He wondered how much time he had wasted on these two just to get to this point.

"There's no such city as Amethyst City. Turn around and go back to wherever you came from," Patience ordered.

"What? How do you know that Amethyst City isn't a real place?" the Zoroark babbled. "You can't possibly know all of the cities in the entire region!"

"No, but I can know the names of all of the neighboring cities," Patience droned on. "Besides, there is not a single city in this entire region that is named after a rock."

"So then what do you guys all name your cities after then? Is it flowers? What, do you just name your cities after whatever flowers you have in the area? You could be a little more creative."

"Please turn around and go back to wherever you came from. I'm not letting you into the city and if you resist any further, I'll call someone to come take you away."

"You can't just turn us away just because you don't know what city we were in last! We're new around here and we really don't know anything about-"

"We should go," the Marowak then said, silencing the Zoroark's outbursts. "Come on, it's not worth it if we have to keep arguing with him and whoever is going to try and make us leave. Let's try finding somewhere else to go. There are plenty of other places we can stay in, I'm sure."

Patience could see how much the Zoroark struggled to say something to the Marowak, but was unable to find the words to offer a rebuttal. So after a few seconds of staring at him, she finally sighed and turned her back to Patience.

"Fine, let's try somewhere else," she said glumly. "I really thought this would be a nice place, though. Everything seems so peaceful… it would have been a nice change for me after everything."

"I know. I know…" the Marowak said with a deep sigh. "We'll find somewhere, though. I promise."

The two then disappeared back into the forest and out of Patience's view. The Tranquill exhaled loudly as he ruffled his feathers. It had been a while since he had dealt with Pokémon like those two. Why did the Zoroark say she was from a city named after a gem? Weren't Zoroark supposed to be sly and crafty, not to mention usually disguised as other Pokémon? Surely she could have come up with a legitimate city name to pretend she was from, as well as pretend to be something inconspicuous like a Mareep.

Maybe she was crazy. That had to be it. That was the only way to explain why she had been acting that way. Of course, that didn't explain the Marowak. Was he supposed to be her friend? Or was he her mate? He certainly seemed to care about her, but that was all Patience could infer from their interactions. Their relationship was ambiguous at best, and it still didn't explain why he put up with the Zoroark's odd behavior. Of course, if they were mates, perhaps that did explain some things. Maybe.

Patience couldn't remember the last time he had pondered this much over Pokémon he had seen on sentry duty. How long had it been since he last turned someone away? Was it ten years? And who was it, exactly? Why did he turn them away?

He saw another flash of color near the forest edge. He immediately stopped thinking about those strange Pokémon.

The new Pokémon barely emerged from the forest and Patience already knew what it was.

"Umbreon," he called out. "Where are you from and what is your purpose for entering Lilac City?"

The Umbreon didn't stop. He only kept walking as he glanced up at Patience.

"I'm from Daffodil Town," the Umbreon replied. "I'm here to buy some supplies before heading back."

"Very well, you can go."

Just as with all of the other Pokémon permitted to enter the city, the Umbreon continued on his way. And just as always, Patience wrote down his name, city of origin, and reason for coming. Just as always, he barely processed the movement.

And then just as always, once he finished, he stood back on the edge of the box and looked back at the forest. Then he waited for more Pokémon.

Just as always.

---

After allowing fifty Pokémon into Lilac City, the sun finally began its descent and dyed the sky with warm, pleasant shades of purple and orange.

The moment Patience saw it, he grabbed the paper he had been writing on all day and held it tight in his beak. Once he clamped down hard on it, he then swooped off the watchtower and made his way back to the guild. As he flew past the many buildings and streets of the city, he noticed that not many Pokémon were out and about in the fading light of the sunset. Just as with the early morning of that day, everyone seemed to be inside their homes. However, instead of still sleeping, they were now resting after a long day's work. At least, that was how it was before Patience was on sentry duty all those years ago. He couldn't imagine that the daily routine of the city had changed all that much in those years.

Patience didn't really have a reason to talk to them anyway. It was getting late and though he hadn't done much movement besides flutter back and forth in his watchtower, his body still felt heavy and flapping his wings was slowly becoming more and more draining. He needed to get back to his hutch and recharge as soon as possible.

Patience hastened his flight and within minutes, found himself back at the guild's entrance. He quickly settled himself onto the ground, and then made his way inside. When he entered the building, he found that unlike in the streets, the guild did have some Pokémon gathered in its vicinity. Specifically, it had seven Pokémon at the counter where the Haxorus usually was; a Scyther, Raichu, Ampharos, Lucario, Pyroar, Heracross, and a Butterfree. They were all gathered around the counter, talking amongst themselves about something that Patience couldn't quite discern from his distance. All he knew was that he recognized all of the Pokémon at that counter.

They were all guild members. A few of them worked together in teams, such as the Lucario, Butterfree, and Pyroar with wandering around the city and keeping an eye out for any sort of trouble. Some of the others though, such as the Ampharos, worked solo and mostly stayed out at night to help any Pokémon that might be lost in the night's thick darkness and help them find their way back home. But at the end of the day, they were all a part of the guild and had been so for many years, just like Patience.

Patience had only stared at them for a couple moments when they all seemed to notice him in the corner of their eyes. Each of them turned toward the Tranquill and shot him beaming gazes.

"Oh hey, it's Patience!" the Lucario said. "We were just wondering if you had finished up your shift yet or not."

"You were?" Patience asked as he placed the paper in his beak down by his feet. "I wonder why that was."

"Because the seven of us were going to go down to The Miltank Café for a little while," the Lucario explained. "Today they've got a special on those delicious Lum shakes they always sell. We were going to invite you over."

"Hmmm, tempting," Patience said with a slow nod. "I do enjoy those Lum shakes. They're always quite pricy and I never have enough money to purchase them. But I am quite tired after standing on that watchtower for the entire day… not to mention I have to be awake by dawn tomorrow."

"We won't be gone too long," the Butterfree then assured. "We were all just going to order some shakes and then talk for a little while. We have jobs to do in the morning too, you know."

"I know, Bree," Patience replied. "Hmm. Well I suppose I can stay for a little while. It has been quite a while since I've spent time with any of you."

"Alright! Then let's get going!" Bree cheered with a flutter of his wings. "We'll meet you there since we know you need to give the chief your report and everything. So see you there!"

The rest of the Pokémon gave a cheer and a remark of their own, and then made their way toward the exit. Patience watched them all pass by for a moment, and then picked up his paper and went up to the counter. And even though the Haxorus was nowhere to be found, he knew that he didn't need to wait for him to return. Nothing of note had happened during his shift. Other that strange Marowak and Zoroark Patience had to reject, all of the Pokémon that had come by peacefully came into the city with no problems whatsoever.

With this thought in mind, the Tranquill neatly placed his piece of parchment on the counter and put an inkpad on the top of its corner. Then he turned around and hurried after the others.

---

By the time that Patience caught up with the other guild members, they were already inside The Miltank Café. It should have been surprising to him, but given that the café was right across the street from the guild, there was no reason to be surprised at all. Besides, they were all fast walkers, or fliers in Bree's case. They had to be with their specific line of work. The thought of slurping up delicious Lum shakes probably helped.

The café was a cozy little place, a perfect place to visit after a long day of sentry duty. The moment Patience entered inside, he saw the soft glow of the illumination orbs spread throughout the café. Some clung to the ceiling while others sat in little orb holders latched onto the walls. But despite the large amount of them, they did not fill the café with blinding light. They only cast a soft hue upon the interior, bringing about a calming vibe that Patience only really felt when he stood next to rivers on quiet mornings in his youth. It made it difficult to tell what color the café really was with the dim amount of light, but Patience found he didn't mind.

He could smell the rich scents of various aromas in the air. The Miltank Café was special in that it was one of the few places in the city that remained open after the sun set. With most of the businesses, they closed their doors the moment the first stars of the night appeared in the sky so that they could have the rest of the night to themselves. And after providing service for an entire day, Patience could understand why. If he was in their position, he would want to close up the shop and rest for the remainder of the night as well. Dealing with so many Pokémon, all demanding different goods or services and being especially picky about how they wanted things their way, surely had to be exhausting.

About a dozen wooden tables were set up inside the café with little cushions to sink into near each of the tables. Quite a number of Pokémon sat at those tables, sometimes alone and sipping their drinks in peace, or with others and chatting the night away. And for those that didn't want to sit at the tables, there were many cushions lined up behind the counter so that you were right next to the employees and could watch them make your drink.

That was exactly where the guild members sat. They had each seated themselves in one of those cushions, all the while waiting for either the barista or Patience himself to join them.

Patience wasted no time and strolled over to an empty seat between the Lucario and Pyroar. He would have flown over to them, considering it was a much faster alternative than walking on his skinny legs, but no one would be fond of that. Flying-types could fly all they wanted when outside, but once they were inside, they had to behave just like the land Pokémon. They couldn't flaunt their wings in such crammed places and make such a ruckus for everyone.

When Patience settled himself between the two Pokémon, it didn't take long for the guild members to notice him.

"There you are," the Lucario said with a smile. "Everything go okay?"

"The chief wasn't there, so I left the paper for him on the counter," Patience stated. "But he won't mind. I've done that before multiple times and he never minded."

"Well it's because you're such a great sentry," the Lucario laughed. "Nobody has been able to identify all those Pokémon as well as you. He knows you don't make any mistakes."

"And because we never have any suspicious Pokémon ever trying to enter the city," Patience stated blandly.

"Well yes, there's that too. Really says something about the city and the Pokémon that want to come in, doesn't it?"

That it was peaceful. That it was a wonderful place to live and that there was no real reason to be afraid of anything. There wasn't even any reason to stay inside at night. Anyone could walk out at night and not have to worry about shady Pokémon hanging out in the dark corners of alleys or feral Pokémon roaming about the streets at night. Everyone could live content and happy lives in Lilac City, never having to worry about anything.

They truly lived in a wonderful place as beautiful as the very lilac flowers the city was named after.

"I wonder how you never get bored of being up there on that watchtower," the Lucario then said. "Because you know, I used to be on that tower once when I first came here."

"You were the sentry they had before I took your place," Patience said with a nod.

"Oh, you remember that! Well yeah, I was. I'd been up there for I think two years at the time? I keep forgetting how long it was. That shift ruined my perception of time. Entire weeks seemed to go by and I wouldn't even realize it… but anyway. I remember really hating to be up there. Just watching that forest every day… that same forest… it wore on me. I'd just stand there all day and couldn't even take a nap. I'd have to keep my eyes on that forest all the time in case someone went by. I don't know how many times I'd miss someone and the chief would grill me when I turned in my report for the day."

It was then that a Miltank came over to Patience and the Lucario and gave the both of them a warm smile.

"Hello there, what can I get you two?" she asked.

"Lum shakes for both of us," the Lucario said with a grin. "The special is still good right now, isn't it?"

"Sure is, all the way until closing," the Miltank replied. "I'll get that for the both of you in just a few moments."

"Alright, thank you."

The Miltank kept her smile on them for a moment longer, and then turned away and went to retrieve the orders of the rest of the guild members. The Lucario set one of his elbows on the counter and held his head with his paw before turning to face Patience completely.

"But you're a natural at being a sentry," the Lucario went on. "It was like you were hatched to be one. You always knew when someone was coming and you never once made a mistake with identifying anyone. Hah, we're so lucky to have you, Patience. I really don't know what we'd do without you. We'd probably never be able to find a sentry as good as you, or someone who's even willing to stay as long as you."

An uncomfortable feeling passed over Patience that made his heart sink into his chest. He had to resist opening his wings and flying out of the café.

"What did you do that made you so good at being a sentry, anyway?" the Lucario then asked. "Was there anything you did as a Pidove that made you like this?"

"… I used to fly around during the day and explore the areas around here," Patience answered. "Whenever I did that, I would see many species of Pokémon. I would remember what they would look like, and then when I went home at the end of the day, I would ask my caretakers what they were. Usually they knew, but sometimes I would need to look it up in books because it was something exotic like a Banette. But it came naturally to me. I saw those Pokémon and once I knew their names, they stuck with me, like they were only other names for myself."

"Oh, so you were a little explorer huh?"

"Yes. I liked to see new things. I liked to see how different the sunset was in each place. I liked how the trees were different in some forests. It was exciting really, seeing all of those new sights and new Pokémon. "

"I see. It sounds like you really loved to explore."

"I did, yes."

"But now you're a sentry and you sit on top of a watchtower all day."

"Yes. My caretakers suggested that I did that when I became a Tranquill that so that I could do something useful for the city."

"Huh. Sounds like you really changed then. But I guess that happens to everyone. We all change our priorities and interests in life when we get older, especially when we try to find out place in life. There's just some things we have to leave behind in our hatchling days. It's the only way we can ever really grow. We can't really become better Pokémon if we want to keep doing the same thing forever."

"… Yes, Rale."

"It kind of reminds me of something I went through when I was younger. Back when I was still a little Riolu, I really used to love collecting all of these skulls of dead Pokémon I found out in the forest. I don't even remember why now; I found them fascinating for some reason. Something about the way it felt and how the eye sockets looked, I think. So I would go out hunting for them every single day and keep them in my room in these little piles. Well as you can imagine, when I came to the Guard Guild, I couldn't exactly do that anymore. Because it really doesn't look good for you to abandon your shift to find these skulls or-"

Patience's caretakers had both been good Pokémon. They were both Talonflame who claimed to have found him wandering about a forest as a hatchling so young that he could only make chirping noises to communicate. For ten years, they raised him on their own, as if he truly were their son. They nurtured him and taught him everything they could to make him the best Tranquill he could possibly be. That was why they told him to join the guild. They had wanted him to grow more so he could later potentially pursue a dream of becoming an adventurer in the future. After all, he could only learn so much from flying through the skies each and every day. He had to learn to interact with Pokémon and develop useful skills if he wanted to be a successful individual.

And he had just done that. He was a very successful individual now. He was an esteemed sentry that everyone admired. He had a home of his own and had become completely self-sufficient. He truly was the best Tranquill he could possibly be.

And yet… he didn't know what to think of the Tranquill he had become. He knew he made many Pokémon in his life very happy but… was he happy? Did he enjoy being a sentry that watched the same, unchanging forest every single day? Did the fact that he could no longer remember how old he was indicate that he was finally content and happy to settle into a routine, or that he no longer cared to find meaning in his days?

Or what about the fact that he couldn't even taste the drink that had just arrived in front of him? What was he supposed to think of that? He knew Lum shakes were delicious with how they were an explosion of just about every flavor imaginable. And he knew that the recipe hadn't been watered down over time, as Rale's ears perked up the second he slurped up his own shake. So why did it taste like water? Why did sipping up the shake feel very similar to forcing down a bitter medication?

"Hey, what's that outside?"

Patience lifted his beak from the inside of the class. He looked over to see all of the Pokémon in the cafe abandon their seats and congregate to the windows. Patience glanced over at Rale to find that he still sat nearby, though now eying the windows as well.

"What's going on?" Patience asked.

"I don't know, but there's only one real way to find out, isn't there?" he asked in return.

The Lucario and Tranquill got up from their seats and made their way over to the growing crowd. They forced their way through the crammed place, squeezing themselves into any space they could, until they made it to the very front of the crowd right by the windows. Patience didn't even need to follow everyone's gazes to see what all the fuss was about.

A hole had appeared in the sky. A great rip tore through the black sky, and within that tear, lay a vast amount of interchanging colors. And though it seemed small from where Patience stood, he knew that an entire city could fit inside it. Perhaps even two.

Patience kept his eyes glued to that tear, watching it carefully as everyone around him muttered amongst themselves, wondering what it could possibly be.

"Well, that's certainly something you don't see every day," Rale noted.

Patience didn't respond. He could barely hear Rale anyway. His words sounded muffled, as if he were talking underwater. The same could be said about all of the other Pokémon surrounding him. Everyone seemed to be growing further and further away from him the longer he stared at that hole.

What was that thing in the sky? What were all of those colors within it, swirling and streaming past one another like rivers? And why did he feel the need to ruffle his feathers the more he stared at it?

"… and I'm pretty sure you're going to have to keep any eye on it."

Patience blinked, and all of the voices came rushing back to him with full clarity. He almost flinched from how sudden it was. He puffed himself up and fluttered his wings for a moment, and then looked back at Rale.

"What did you say?" Patience asked.

"I said, it looks like everyone at the guild has got something to keep an eye on, since I'm pretty sure whatever that is can't be a good sign," Rale explained. "And I'm pretty sure the chief is going to make you the one who is going to be keeping an eye on it the most."

It took Patience a moment to process what Rale just said. However, even after he did, he still couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"Why do you think that?" he asked.

"Because you're at the watchtower all the time and have the best view of it," Rale explained. You'll always have it in your sight when you're up that high. And you're good at noticing anyway. So you'd be the first one to pick up on if it begins to change and if we need to tell everyone we need to evacuate the city or something like that."

So that was it. Now not only would he be watching the forest for visitors, he would be watching the sky to note any changes with that tear. He could see the chief giving him that order. It was most certainly a strong possibility.

The thought of that should have made Patience's heartbeat quicken or entice him to chirp merrily. Something new, after all these years. Something different to look at other than the canopy of that forest. Potential danger up in the sky, staring right back at him.

But this thought didn't do anything. He felt nothing at the thought of watching that hole in the sky. Because even if he was watching that hole in the sky, waiting for it to possibly spell out disaster for the Pokémon in the land below, it didn't change the fact that he was still stuck on that tower observing it.

In reality, his job would become no different. He would still on that watchtower every day of his life, watching something. But now instead of just the forest down below, it would be the sky above as well.

Patience turned away from the window and forced his way through a space between a Pikachu and Ivysaur too dumbfounded by the anomaly in the sky to even notice the Tranquill.

"Hey, where are you going?" Rale asked.

"I'm feeling tired, so I'm going to go home and sleep," Patience answered. "Can you pay for my shake and I'll pay you back tomorrow? I don't have any money on me at the moment."

"Oh, sure, I can do that. Have a good night, Patience."

Patience forced his way through the rest of the crowd. When he managed to make it through the mass of squirming bodies, he headed out the door. The moment he felt the cool, night air hit his face, he opened up his wings and shot into the sky. He soared over the city, quickly leaving it behind as he entered the great forest bordering it.

It was not long before he found himself at the foot of his hutch. Without wasting a moment, he opened up the door before closing it shut and settled himself in his bed.

He hadn't been lying. He did feel tired. His eyes felt droopy and he lacked the strength to flap his wings anymore.

So after he adjusted his posture and moved around some of the bedding so that it did not dig into his skin, Patience closed his eyes and immediately fell asleep.

Tomorrow would be the same as today, he knew that. It had been like that since he first joined the guild and became its sentry. He would wake up, receive his assignment, and then watch the forest all day. And then he would go back to the chief and report that nothing of note had truly happened. All was peaceful, just as they wanted it to be. Then he would return home and sleep, so long as no one invited him to spend part of the night with them.

And then the cycle would start anew once again.

Again and again.

Never to end.

And a new tear in the sky was not going to change that.

This is an interesting one. You've got a cool premise with a lot of potential here; Jax touched on ways the fragments might interact in future, but I think there's already some neat stuff going on there, with Glace's reluctance and the way Sonata manipulates her into signing up with her by literally forcing her own viewpoint into her head. It's kind of vicious, really, and if that's the kind of character interaction you have planned for the fragments then I'm definitely intrigued to see what more there is in store. Sonata is definitely at least as sketchy as Glace is, and that's saying something.

However, I think at times your language lets you down. You have a tendency to describe every single step of an action, sometimes even multiple times, and the result is it kinda slows your writing down. When Patience is taking off from his house, for instance, he spreads his wings, then jumps out, then flaps as he begins to fall, then catches the wind, and finally rises back up. Or when the snover gets knocked down right at the start, he falls backwards, breathes in sharply (I think, the language is a bit confusing because I don't think you can 'let out' an inhale), clutches his stomach with thick paws, then rolls onto his side. Much of this detail just isn't necessary – like, you can rely on your reader to fill in any small gaps; they know what it should look like for a bipedal creature to fall over after being kicked in the stomach, for instance. Particularly for short, sharp motions like someone falling after being kicked down, a shorter, more energetic sentence will do a more effective job than something more detailed.

Sometimes trying to describe everything means you end up contradicting yourself, too. When Patience lands in Lilac City, you say he “settled himself on the ground by the entryway before tucking his wings into his body the moment both of his feet firmly planted on the ground.” First he tucks his wings in after landing, and then he does it the moment it happens, which technically makes sense but reads really weirdly. Or, when he follows his colleague to the Miltank Café, you say he should be surprised, but then “there was no reason to be surprised at all” – so he both should and should not be surprised, which is kind of odd.

Both of these flaws are the kind of thing that could be helped by reading through what you write aloud and seeing if it sounds okay in your ears – that's a really good way of finding odd bits and pieces like this that don't read quite right. Your prose aside, though, your characters are fascinating – Glace is a great example of a particular type, sure, but Sonata is, like I said, really interesting; I can't quite decide if she's viciously manipulative or just plain thoughtless, but either way, she's the kind of person who could cause some … interesting situations, especially when she has to share headspace with someone like Glace. Patience, too, is cool; I like your characterisation of his blandness, and the way it seems to have affected even his own worry about his blandness. He's a great example of someone who can see a problem with himself, but is almost too pinioned by the problem to face up to it properly. If all the fragments are going to be like this, I'm really looking forward to seeing their interactions when their paths finally cross!

Some interesting hints dropped here about Glace and Sonata's respective pasts, huh. I'm still not convinced that Sonata is trustworthy; when someone who manipulated Glace as easily as she did says that they're not plotting anything sinister, that doesn't quite ring true. Maybe I'm just reading too much into it – or maybe it's a deliberate misdirection, given that it gives Glace's suspicious mind something to lock onto. Anyway, the dynamic between these two is definitely still really interesting, and I'm glad that seeing right the way into one another as they're doing now hasn't had the effect of making the tension between them dissipate.

Those flying-types were certainly very obliging; I honestly didn't really think Glace's investigation at the tower was going to go that smoothly, especially after her rather obvious lies. If I'd been one of the tranquill in question, I can't imagine I'd have come down to be inspected by the suspicious weavile. Possibly people are just nice in Lilac City.

… you know, it explains so much about Sonata to hear that she came from one of the PMD worlds represented by the games. She's got exactly that kind of bubbly, energetic personality that seems so prevalent in those worlds, with their unnecessarily elaborately decorated buildings. I like that that's referenced; it's simultaneously a neat character detail and a cool worldbuilding touch.



You're missing the word 'of' between 'some' and 'her'.

Ending two sentences in a row with 'to her' reads a bit weirdly – maybe reword one of them.

You don't need that apostrophe – it's a plural, not a possessive.

Also, every so often, you've got two blank lines between paragraphs instead of one – it's quite noticeable when you're scrolling through the page. Here are all the ones I noticed:







There might be others that I've missed, though I've tried to be thorough.

Anyway! It looks like Patience is, predictably, not going to be an easy one to win around. Definitely looking forward to seeing how the world's least diplomatic weavile intends to resolve this situation.

Well, it looks like the world's (worlds'?) least diplomatic weavile turned things around, huh. Although of course this change of heart has much more to do with Patience himself than it does with Glace. Good to see that Glace is learning something from all this to make the next time go smoother, though – I'll be interested to see exactly how she's planning to apply it, given that she only ever seems to be a few seconds away from assaulting whoever it is she's talking to. Possibly having Sonata and Patience in her head will help; Patience at least seems like the kind of influence who might make her more measured, even if Sonata might pull her in a bit more of an unpredictable direction.

That said, I do feel like some of Patience's logic is slightly weird – like, I don't see why being a fragment would make him incurious about his origins; it seems to me that what makes people who don't know where they come from curious to find it out is the fact that they don't know the core things about themselves that other people do, rather than some innate natural urge. His lack of interest seems to me to be more symptomatic of his apathy and depression, rather than anything else.

Also, I'm not sure you need a long section describing how people come to brood on things; I feel like the basic behaviour of the mind is something that you can assume your readers will be familiar with. Glace could get to the point she's trying to make there in far fewer words. Which is I think something you could apply to a few other places in the chapter, too; that tendency I noticed in earlier chapters to over-narrate things is still there – though it does feel less marked than before, which is cool to note.



Well, that's an intriguing bit of worldbuilding. Is it an excess of whatever vital essence an oran berry contains that does this, I wonder? Or is it that they have a very small amount of something psychotropic in that only has an effect on you when you eat a lot of them?



Is the implication that that's the only time someone can change their name? Because that seems weird and unenforceable. There doesn't seem to be a central registry or other authority that would try to enforce it, either, and without any kind of identification papers like passports or anything, it doesn't strike me as hard to just … say hey, this is my name now.



Ending two sentences in a row with “in this dimension” is a bit much, I think.



I think you're missing the word “what” here, in between “was” and “the”.



You repeat “her words had been” twice in as many sentences here; it might read better if you rewrote one instance.



That sentence isn't quite grammatically correct – “the concept of using” is the phrase you're after, I think, rather than “the concept to use”.



Missing “he” in between “once” and “had”.



This bit isn't italicised.

So! Nice to see the resolution of this particular episode, so to speak; I'll be interested to see who and what the next fragment is – because given that Patience came first, I suspect he's going to be the easiest one of all for Glace to recruit. It will also be cool to see where they are; Lilac City seems like a very similar dimension to Glace's and indeed to Sonata's, but obviously there's a lot of scope for more varied and interesting dimensions too, and I'm sure we'll get to those in time. I'm looking forward to it!

---

An elderly Octillery silently slinked through the cold, dark depths of the ocean.

She drew in as much ocean water as she could into her mantle, and then quickly expelled it out. The sudden burst then propelled her through the water a few feet, where she would then come to stop and she would need to repeat the process again to keep moving forward. It seemed like a tiring process, having to constantly withdraw water before dispelling it to flow through the ocean, but not to the Octillery. Her three hearts sustained her plenty, making sure she didn't feel the least bit faint as she swam through the sea.

With every propulsion a tingling sensation washed over her entire body. She could feel how much her suckers wanted to twist and tighten around the nearest Clamperl. Now would be a good time to catch one after all. They all slumbered down below on the ocean floor, hiding away in between the coral.

But she couldn't. She was on a much different type of hunt now and had to stay focused and vigilant.

She adjusted her angle so that she faced toward the light illuminating above her, and then shot herself toward it. Seconds later, her head emerged from the murky water and entered the surface world.

Moonlight poured down from high above, casting a soft blue light onto the water surrounding her. She could see it dimly reflecting off her pale red skin, a consequence of having not seen the sun for many years. She had long forgotten the warm rays of the great ball of fire that ruled the day. She only knew the cool, otherworldly light of the night and its dim, glimmering companions that pierced through the eternal sky of black. And though the moon was no substitute for the guiding beacon known as the sun, the blue light still allowed her everything she needed. Particularly, it allowed her to see her destination with perfect clarity.

There, within close swimming distance, lay Wayward Island.

It was the only island around for miles and miles around. Most of the islands in the world lived in clusters of perhaps five or six small islands only able to house a few dozen Pokémon each. Due to this, the island dwellers usually connected each of their islands with wooden docks to establish a trade system depending on which island had what goods. But not Wayward Island. This island stood all alone in the vast ocean, as if to defy cooperation and unity. If it had been as small as the other islands the Octillery had visited, then surely none of its civilians would have lasted long.

However, that wasn't an issue. Wayward Island was perhaps one of the largest islands on the planet, housing at least a few hundred Pokémon. Enough fruit and wild life flourished in the thick foliage of the deeper parts of island to sustain everyone who lived there.

The Octillery dipped back into the ocean and hurried toward the island. She spurted through the water with increased vigor until her tentacles brushed against soft, powdery sand. Once so, she ceased her bursts and lowered herself to the seafloor. Then, she crawled her way to the surface using her nimble tentacles. It was only a matter of time before she emerged from the shoreline and settled onto the dry, grainy land.

She could see the palm trees that filled the beach now. She could see how a few grew separated from the others, bending toward the ocean at a slightly slanted angle, while others remained in clusters farther inland. The great gathering of these palm trees reminded the Octillery of a wall due to how closely they grew together and how all of the leaves seemed to intertwine with one another.

The Octillery ignored the gritty feeling of sand in her suckers as she crawled toward the mass of trees. Despite lacking any semblance of bones in her body, she was able to scurry across the land at an adequate pace. Surely not as quickly as a majority of the Pokémon that lived on this island, but much faster than any other aquatic Pokémon.

Within moments, she exited the forest and found herself peering into a small town. All of the buildings within her sight were short, one-story huts with thatched roofs. All of them stood a couple of feet off the sand with a ramp that connected each hut's door with the ground. A few burning torches several times her height protruded out of the sand throughout the area, casting an orange glow against the walls of some of the huts.

However, there didn't seem to be a single soul in sight. All of the huts' doors were covered with bundles of fresh palm tree leaves. No shadows scurried in and out of the fires' light. All was quiet and peaceful on this part of the island. The only sounds to be heard were the crackling of the torches' flames and the distant ocean waves crashing onto the shoreline.

This was most definitely a residential area. All of the huts were too similar to one another to be an area for consumption and bartering. It seemed a bit smaller than some of the other neighborhoods she had visited in the past on this island, but it didn't matter. This particular part of the island housed a number of families and all of them surely slumbered the night away.

She had found exactly what she wanted.

The Octillery left behind her foliage shelter and pulled herself into the town with her tentacles. She made sure to keep herself within the shadows as she moved along. Though she couldn't hear or see anyone, it was no guarantee that she was alone. Someone might be patrolling about in an area nearby, or someone might awaken from their slumber and wander out of their home. She couldn't afford to be seen. If someone saw her, then she would be forced to retreat and would not be able to come back to this town for many days.

She kept in the shadows until she found herself within tentacle's reach of an especially worn hut with coconuts piled up near the door. She checked both ways for any signs of wandering Pokémon, and then hurried over to the makeshift window on the side of the hut. She grabbed at its edges with three tentacles, holding on tight with her suckers, and then pulled herself into the hut.

It was much smaller inside the hut than the Octillery expected. The entire hut was mostly one room, with the beds pushed against the back wall and tables lined with plants and Remoraid towards the door. A cabinet stood against the wall just opposite of her, filled with many pots, pans, and baskets. Everything felt so cramped together. The Octillery could barely lower herself to the floor without her tentacles brushing up against any of the furniture. She had to curl her tentacles around her body, something that felt mildly awkward.

She couldn't remember the last time she had visited a home this small. Though many huts had just one room, they had more space than this. She could only imagine how difficult it was for the residents to navigate through the cramped space.

With that thought in mind, the Octillery brought her gaze to where the beds lay. They weren't so much beds as they were brown mats made out of straw. They didn't look very comfortable, but one wouldn't know that after noticing the Pokémon resting on top of them. Befitting of the small hut, a group of three Pokémon slept soundly before the Octillery. Specifically, two adult Golduck and one hatchling Psyduck. They slept on their own separate mats, but stayed in close proximity to one another. This was especially true for the Psyduck, who at the moment cuddled close to who the Octillery presumed was the mother of the group. She noticed how pleasantly and calmly the Psyduck slumbered, as if in the midst of a happy dream.

The Octillery watched the Psyduck for a moment longer before she crawled back out the window. She didn't need that Psyduck. He was perfectly fine where he was. She still felt the hut was a tad bit too small for the family's needs and fretted over the implications of it, but that Psyduck didn't need to be saved. His life situation might not have been ideal, but he seemed content. He would grow up just fine.

She settled herself onto the sand before retreating back into the shadows. She crept around the neighborhood, avoiding the torchlight like her life depended on it, until she found herself before a much larger hut. This one stood much higher than all the other huts and had more width and length than the Golduck home. The Octillery crawled around the hut until she found a window just large enough for her to squeeze through. She peered into the window, making sure that only darkness stared back at her, and then crawled inside.

As she had suspected, this hut was much nicer than the previous one. The ceiling towered high above her head, at least twenty times her own height, and had a number of rafters holding items of all sorts. There were many furs from various land Pokémon, meats hung up to dry, and articles of clothing to be fetched with ease. Multiple basins and baskets sat upon the flooring, holding fresh water and plants gathered from the deeper parts of the island. But perhaps most noticeable of all, this household didn't sleep on dirty mats. Here, they slept in hammocks tied to nails embedded deep within the hut's mainframe. There were five of them in all, hanging a few feet above the Octillery, each holding a Pokémon within its soft confines. She could hear them all breathing softly from where she stood. However, she couldn't actually see any of the Pokémon. The hammocks were more like cocoons than actual hammocks with the way they almost completely enveloped the Pokémon with their thick fabric. However, she knew there was a way to fix that. She knew she could still see who slept in this hut if she tried hard enough.

The Octillery crept over to the hammocks, careful to move slowly so that her suckers wouldn't make a sound. When she made it to the wall closest to the hammocks, she carefully climbed her way up. It took a bit of effort and she had to carefully weave her tentacles through the hut's framework, but she ascended toward the slumbering Pokémon all the same. Within moments, she had climbed so high up that her head brushed against the very ceiling. Satisfied with this vantage point, the Octillery then set her sights down below.

As she had suspected, the tops of the hammocks remained exposed to the air. She could clearly see each of them slumbering below her. And as it turned out, all of the Pokémon were Grovyle. They all seemed to be young adults, perhaps having recently left behind their childhood homes. Why there were five of them living together, she didn't know. Perhaps they were all friends or siblings who found living together was easier than being separate. Or maybe there was another reason. The Octillery knew there was no way to find out. What she did know, however, was that she didn't need to stay any longer.

The Octillery crawled back down the walls and then plopped back onto the flooring. The moment her tentacles thumped against the ground, one of the hammocks shifted and creaked.

The Octillery threw herself at the wall as a jolt coursed through all three of her hearts. She plastered as many of her tentacles against the wood, taking in its rough, scratchy texture and color. She waited a second, and then changed the tone of her skin to match the wall completely. She even made her body copy the appearance of the texture so that it seemed she had splinters protruding out of her body.

Now seemingly a part of the wall, the Octillery gazed up at the source of the noisy hammock. A green, scaly arm reached out from the edge of the hammock, as if to grasp at something. But just as the Octillery worried that the Grovyle would climb out of the hammock, the arm fell limp. No more movement stirred from the hammock, or any of the other hammocks. Only quiet breathing resonated throughout the hut.

The Octillery waited in the darkness for another minute, eying the hammocks the entire time, and then silently retreated back outside.

She had about five more huts she could venture into in the area. Based on what she could tell, the sun wouldn't rise for another few hours anyway. She could easily search each of the houses and go to the next residential area long before the first ray of dawn lit the sky. Maybe she could investigate three neighborhoods if she was quick enough.

And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn't find someone in need saving.

The Octillery continued her diligent search through the huts. She made sure to keep as quiet as possible as she slinked into each and every home, careful not to knock over anything that might get in her way. A confrontation would be quite unneeded.

She checked every single hut in the vicinity and found that not a single one held a child in need of saving. Some were like that Psyduck in that they could have been living in better conditions, but nothing in their lives could be considered harmful. Everyone in the neighborhood would live healthy lives and become well-adjusted adults.

When the Octillery realized this, she left the homes behind and made her way toward the next neighborhood. She hoped that it wouldn't be very far.

As it turned out, it wasn't. All she had to do was cross through a thick gathering of foliage for a few minutes, and then she found herself in a new neighborhood. It seemed almost identical to the previous residential area with all of the homes being thatched huts. However, she did notice that there did appear to be a few more huts here and they seemed somewhat bigger as well. Not only that, many of the homes had coconut, banana, and palm trees growing right beside them, offering small amounts of shade. She imagined this was the slightly more luxurious neighborhood. Certainly not the richest part of the island, she imagined the huts would be far more extravagant than what she saw now, but an improvement over the other neighborhood.

Of course, looks could be deceiving.

The Octillery checked both ways, and then crawled toward the homes. She didn't bother trying to hide in the shadows this time. With so many trees in the area, she knew she could easily blend into their bark the second someone spotted her. So long as she kept close to a tree as she searched about, she would be just fine.

The Octillery had barely emerged from the foliage when she heard something scurrying across the sand. She shirked back into the trees and changed her skin into a deep green before peering at the source of the sound.

Much to her surprise, she saw a young Scraggy sprinting across the sand not far from where she hid. He was a skinny thing with his ribs being quite pronounced and the majority of his body lacking any semblance of muscle tone. He could barely hold up the loose skin around his feet as he made his way to the nearest banana tree in the area. He nearly tripped several times in the process. The mere sight of that made the Octillery's tentacles curl in on themselves in tight, uncomfortable knots.

Within a few moments, the Scraggy neared the tree. However, rather than stopping, he only increased his speed with a desperate, almost crazed glimmer in his eyes. Seconds later, he rammed his skull directly into the tree's trunk.

The entire tree shook violently. A few of its leaves tumbled to the ground around the Scraggy, but not the bright yellow bunch of bananas the Scraggy so fervently eyed. Not even a single banana moved an inch from the bunch.

The Scraggy muttered something under his breath as he took a few steps back before he struck the tree once again. As before, the tree trembled and even more leaves plummeted to the sand, but the bananas would not budge.

The Octillery watched as the Scraggy let out an almost feral cry before repeatedly attacking the tree, kicking, punching, and bashing his head into it with all his might. She could see the blood leaking out of his knuckles as he repeated the tree, making no progress whatsoever.

All three of her hearts broke at the sight.

"Stop, please stop," she spoke as she emerged from her hiding spot and neared the Scraggy. "Stop hurting yourself."

The little Pokémon swiveled his head toward the Octillery before flinching back. He let out a low whimper as he pulled his loose skin over his head, hiding himself from the Octillery's view. His knees shook so much that she worried that they would collapse on him.

"Little boy, it's alright," she said to him in a calm, soft voice as she stopped a few feet away from him. "I'm not going to hurt you."

The Scraggy wouldn't respond. He only continued to shield himself from her, too frightened to move an inch. The Octillery looked up at the bananas still hanging from the tree for just a second before bringing her gaze back to the boy.

"Here, let me help you," she told him. "Give me one moment."

The Octillery crawled over to the base of the tree before wrapping her tentacles around the trunk. Once her suckers latched on tight to the dry, smooth wood, she pulled herself up. She carefully climbed up the tree, tying her tentacles around the thick leaves and using them to hoist herself up until she was right beside the lowest banana bunch. She took one of her tentacles and wrapped it around the branch that connected them to the tree. Once she securely latched onto it with the one tendril, she released her hold on the main tree and plummeted toward the sand.

There was a snap, and the banana bunch separated itself from the tree and followed after the Octillery. She swiftly released her hold on the bananas, and then gracefully landed on all eight of her tentacles. The banana bunch collapsed in the sand right beside her, missing a couple of her arms by a few inches.

The Octillery gingerly wrapped one of her tentacles around a single banana and pried it free from the bunch with an effortless pull. She then presented it to the Scraggy before her, who still had his loose skin over his face. He probably hadn't even noticed what she had done.

"Here, take this," she said.

The Scraggy lowered his skin just a tiny bit, allowing the Octillery to see the tops of his eyes. They were both bloodshot and his pupils were dilated to the extremes.

The Scraggy eyed the banana, remaining as still as a statue. Then, in a flash, he snatched the banana out of the Octillery's tentacle and wolfed it right down. He didn't even bother to peel it; he only shoved as much as he could into his mouth, swallowed it down after a couple of bites, and then proceeded to repeat the process. Within seconds, the entire banana was gone. The Octillery wasted no time in ripping another banana off the bunch and giving it to the Scraggy. He ate this one just as ravenously.

For the next few moments, all the Octillery did was give the Scraggy fruit and let him scarf it down. She would keep giving him a banana every single time he finished his current one, saying nothing as he ate. By the time he finally stopped eating, nearly the entire bunch had been devoured.

The now full Scraggy released a relieved sigh before slumping to the ground. His entire face was caked with white mush, but he didn't bother wiping it off of him. He only laid there in the sand, gazing up at the stars with a lulled, lethargic stare.

The Octillery cautiously neared him. He didn't shirk away and only continued to watch the sky above. Before long, she found herself by the little child's side. Now that she had a much better view of the Scraggy, she could see how small he was. He was quite a few inches shorter than Scraggy ought to be at his age. His scrawny form didn't help much.

"Are you feeling better?" the Octillery asked.

The Scraggy nodded slowly. She could see him practically nodding off to sleep.

Now she needed to know if this Scraggy was in need of saving. It could be tricky obtaining the answers she sought from him. He was still a child after all. However, she had gained enough trust from this child for it to be decidedly less problematic than it could potentially be. He wouldn't let her this near if he didn't feel some semblance of safety in her company.

"Why were you trying to get bananas from this tree?" the Octillery asked.

"I was hungry," the Scraggy said in a scratchy, quiet voice without looking at her. "I don't have any food."

"There's no food in your home?"

"No… but my tummy hurt. I couldn't sleep. My tummy kept talking when I closed my eyes. So I tried to get some of the bananananas. They taste yummy and make my tummy stop talking."

"If you were so hungry, why didn't you ask your parents for something to eat?"

"Mommy and daddy aren't home."

"Where are mommy and daddy?"

"I don't know. Mommy and daddy like to go away sometimes."

The Octillery glared at the Scraggy's home in the near distance. She noticed that the entrance wasn't covered up by anything unlike the other huts, exposing it to the cool night wind. She couldn't see any semblance of slumbering Pokémon within the hut. Only an unkempt hut flooding with useless junk stared back at her in the light of the pale moon. It was hardly sanitary.

"How long have mommy and daddy been gone?" she asked, hiding her growing bitterness the best she could.

"Three days," the Scraggy said as he held up his paws and counted each of his claws.

"Three days? And what have you been doing this entire time?"

"Staying inside like they tell me to. I watch the wall and I wait for them to come home. I try to not listen to my tummy when it talks to me. But sometimes it hurts too much when it talks and I go outside so it can stop talking."

"And how often are you left at home by yourself like this?"

"A lot. Mommy and daddy like to go places a lot. They won't take me with them even though I keep asking them to. They tell me to stay home. I try not to cry when they leave, but sometimes I do. I don't like being all alone. There's nobody to talk to."

The Octillery could see now that this Scraggy clearly did need help. He could speak his thoughts clearly enough, but he would cease to develop further if he stayed in that house. He already showed signs with his lack of eye contact and flat affect.

The fact that he now lay slumbering before the Octillery further worried her. Eating all of those bananas and attacking the tree for as long as he had shouldn't have tired him out that quickly.

The Octillery briefly checked around her. Not a single Pokémon roamed about. All that surrounded her was the darkness of the night with the sounds of the distant ocean tide to accompany it.

She did one last visual scan of the vicinity, and then swiftly picked up the snoozing Scraggy in two of her tentacles. This didn't rouse him in the slightest. He moved slightly, stretching his skeletal arms, but he didn't struggle or open his eyes.

"Don't worry, you won't need to suffer any longer," she told him. "You're safe now."

She secured her grip around the Scraggy, making sure she didn't hold him too tightly, and then crawled back into the foliage. She weaved her way through it with the utmost care, doing her best not to let any of the leaves or branches brush up against the little boy. It took quite a bit of time, far longer than she was comfortable with, but she couldn't rush with the Scraggy in tow. She had to treat all of her children with all the gentleness her species could offer. This would have been much easier if she had been hatched a creature with hands, but she knew there was nothing she could do about that.

She should have been thankfully that she had prehensile limbs of any sort after being a finned creature of the water for a couple of decades.

After some time of diligently and carefully weaving her way through the island's vegetation, the Octillery finally found herself back at the beach. The cold waves rolled onto the soft sand before receding back into the ocean, as if beckoning the Octillery to follow them.

She looked down at the Scraggy in her tentacles to find that he still slept. She hoped it would stay that way. It was always much easier to carry passengers through the water when they weren't actively fighting with her. She sometimes had to put them to sleep to help lessen the burden, but it was never easy. It always stung her heart no matter how many times she had to do it. Fighting with younglings was perhaps her least favorite activity in the entire world.

With the Scraggy asleep, she wouldn't need to worry about any of that. All she had to think about now was how exactly she would carry him through the water. If he was a water-type, then there would be absolutely no concerns. The second any water-type submerges regardless of if they are conscious or not, they automatically use their gills and their lungs adapt accordingly.

Of course, this was impossible if the Pokémon wasn't a water Pokémon to begin with. If she tried to swim through the ocean with him now, he would most certainly drown in a matter of minutes.

But she didn't fret because as it turned out, there actually was a way to dive into the ocean without the child suffocating.

The Octillery crawled to the shoreline until the waves brushed up against her tentacles. She took in the salty smell of the ocean for just a moment as it passed under the rest of her body, letting it wash out the sand sticking to her suckers and moisten her tentacles.

Then, just as the water slowly receded back into the ocean, she absorbed a small amount into her body through her suckers. She sucked it all in and felt it pumping through her body. She focused as it flowed through her, energizing it with a special power that rested within her soul. She could feel a tingling feeling sweep through her body as the water made its way toward her long mouth.

She lowered her head so that her mouth hovered right above the sleeping Scraggy. She let all of the water gather at the back of her mouth, holding it back as all of the water slowly centralized in that particular area.

Then, once every bit of water was exactly where she wanted it to be, she released it all from her mouth and dumped it onto the Scraggy.

The water washed over the little child, but it didn't drip down into the waves. Instead, it seeped directly into the Scraggy's body. The Octillery watched as light blue spots appeared on his skin and slowly encroached the rest of his body. As this happened, three vertical cuts carved themselves into each side of his face. They ran parallel to each other as they etched themselves deep into his flesh and carefully intertwined with his respiratory system. The Scraggy shifted in his sleep as his body underwent the metamorphosis, but the Octillery only had to softly caress the top of his head to soothe him.

Within a matter of moments, the transformation finished. No longer did a scrawny little child of the land rest in her tentacles; he was a creature of the ocean now. Besides being a bright aqua color now, he now had the very gills every water-type possessed. They fluttered on his cheeks as they waited for water to rush through them, as if they had always been a part of his anatomy since his hatching day. Of course, despite how real they seemed at the moment, the Octillery knew they weren't permanent. They would disappear in a few hours, and when that happened, he would become a land Pokémon once again.

This was all the incentive the Octillery needed to hurry back home.

She tightened her grip on the sleeping child and then hurried into the water. She let the receding waves take her deeper into the ocean until most of her body fell beneath the surface. Then, she swam far into the ocean with the Scraggy in tow.

The child continued to sleep soundly as he sunk into the cold waters. His gills activated upon touching the water, instantly filtering out all of the oxygen from the water he needed and sending it into his body. He didn't even cough as water flooded into his mouth and gushed down his throat. He only slept peacefully, as if he truly were a water-type.

The Octillery would have smiled if she still could as she swam further out into the ocean. It wasn't long before the massive island became nothing more than an insignificant speck amongst the night. Then, it melted into the pale moonlight and became nothing. All that surrounded the Octillery and the child was the seemingly endless black sea, stretching for miles and miles.

She didn't fret, however. The hardest part of her hunt was over with. This night's hunt could actually be considered one of her most simple, straight-forward hunts in a long while. She hadn't run into any adults wandering about the neighborhoods at all that night. Normally, there were a few adults out and about, usually because they were unable to sleep and felt a nightly stroll might soothe them. Then also, some Pokémon enjoyed sleeping on the beach, particularly the adolescents and young adults. Something about being so close to the water, lying in the cool sand, and basking in the moonlight captivated them. Of course, it was never difficult to sneak past these Pokémon, but the Octillery never did like to entertain the thought that one of them might open their eyes when she crawled out of the ocean. She imagined in their drowsy state they would see her as a sea monster ready to devour them on the spot or perhaps drag them into the dark depths of the ocean. She could only imagine the panicked reactions that would ensue.

However, that was nothing compared to actually taking the helpless children out of their doomed homes. Most of the time, the parents were home. They weren't usually anywhere near the children, but they would still be close enough that the Octillery could hear them breathing. Or even worse, the parents would be awake by the time she arrived and wouldn't sleep until nearly dawn. Retrieving the children out of their homes when the adults remained so close was always the most dangerous part of the hunt. If the child made one sound or if the adults saw even a glimpse of her in the moonlight, utter chaos would ensue.

She remembered the worst incident of this happening was with an Azurill she found five years ago. His parents held a toxic relationship with one another. The mother was a dominating figure who constantly belittled the father for his failures in life, such as being unable to hold a job and for being unable to stand up for himself. The father was just as vitriolic in return, accusing the mother of being a complete dictator who felt she had to rule over everyone else in order to feel better about herself. It was a terrible sort of relationship, one that poisoned both partners, but the Octillery knew that they would never go their separate ways. Because underneath that contempt they held for each other, they needed each other on a deep and disturbing level. They needed the other to boost their self-esteem, to constantly remind themselves that they weren't as flawed as the Pokémon before them.

So naturally, it was only right to take their child away before their detrimental relationship tainted him. So when the two finally went off to sleep after yelling at each other for many hours, the Octillery made her move. She approached the Azurill's bed and then wrapped her tentacles around his body. After making sure that he didn't stir from her cold touch, she then hoisted him out of the bed and slinked toward the nearest window.

She was just about to slip back out into the night when the father spotted her. She really shouldn't have been surprised, given that Azumarill had excellent hearing, but it did. Especially when she saw the father turn from bemused to practically exploding with rage.

That had been the fastest she had ever hurried back to the water. She could still hear the vicious curses the father threw at her, all the while waking up every single Pokémon in the neighborhood. She was sure they all saw her in the light of the torches before she threw herself into the black sea.

She had never gone back to that particular island after that incident. Even after all those years, she wasn't sure that any of the residents forgot about her. Seeing an Octillery forcefully taking a child out of someone's home and never seeing that child again surely must have left an impact. But maybe she could go back sometime soon. There might be more children on that island in need of saving. She couldn't stay away forever just because one hunt had gone horribly wrong. Maybe during her next hunt she would go back to that island after so long.

But for now, she would be content with the success of her current hunt. She had her child safely curled up in her tentacles and the ocean felt particularly pleasant, as if personally congratulating her. There was no need to fret about anything now. She only needed to keep swimming close to the surface until she reached her home. She only hoped that the others would accept the little Scraggy.

Of course, she needed to come up with an explanation as to how she found this Scraggy. Not only that, but she needed to talk to the child and help him understand why she would now be living with him. He needed to see why he could no longer stay in that empty home and why he could never speak of what had happened that night. At least, not completely and honestly.

She would need to find a good time to speak to him about that. Hopefully she could do so before the others found her and questioned the boy. She couldn't expect them to only trust her words. It didn't matter that they had known her for many decades; they would still wonder why the Scraggy had to live with them. They would want to know why he needed to be cared for and what happened to his parents.

That's how adults were. They wanted to know why. They wanted to know why anything happened. They couldn't accept anything at face value. No, they had to ask why this was happening and why that was happening and why someone would let it happen. They had to bombard everything with their questions and dissect what lay before them until it was nothing but a hollow shell of its former self.

The Octillery saw something dark move through the water before she continue seething at the thought of adults and their constant questions. She slowed her momentum as she eyed the waters. She found she couldn't see anything in the white moonlight. Only emptiness filled the black sea.

She curled two more tentacles around the still slumbering Scraggy as the sound of her three hearts pounded in her head. She could feel practically feel each of her tentacles shivering. Several times she thought she felt something brush against her suckers, prompting her to recoil a few inches back. It always felt bristly and cold.

White hot pain struck the Octillery in one of her tentacles. Specifically, in one of the tentacles holding her Scraggy. She thrashed violently as she withdrew her tentacle, but found that she couldn't. Something held her tentacle with an astonishing strength, something that continued to bury deeper and deeper into her flesh. With some reluctance, the Octillery peered at her assailant.

It was a large, bulky Sharpedo almost twice her size. A number of nasty scars ran up and down its body, one in particular over its entire left eye. The Sharpedo tore deep into her tentacle with its massive jaws and clouding up the water with blue blood. Its one good eye glowed with a sinister red through the wraith-like blood, like an eerie moon in a hazy night. She saw no semblance of intelligence in the creature; only the blank ferocity of a hungry feral.

It sank its fangs further into her tentacle before yanking her with a violent tug. The Octillery flew through the water just as the predator released its hold on her and chomped down on her head seconds later. She proved just fast enough to move out of the way, causing its fangs to snap down inches away from her. Then, she shot thick, black ink out of her mouth and into the Sharpedo's eyes. It quickly filled the water with its dark, impenetrable darkness.

She wasted no time in righting herself in the water before jetting out of the growing cloud of murk. She could still feel the fiery stinging sensation in her one tentacle, but she ignored it the best she could. She didn't even look at it; she could assess the damage when she was safe. After all, her ink would only distract the Sharpedo for so long. That Sharpedo would eventually escape from the black cloud. It would smell her blood in the water and track her down with startling speed and accuracy. She could be miles and miles away and it would reach her within minutes to finish its job.

Her only hope of escape was to get home. If she could get home, she would be safe. She knew she could always dive to the ocean floor and hide in the coral, but that was too risky. She didn't know if there actually was any coral to take shelter in. Not only that, but she still had the Scraggy. He couldn't fit in between the cracks of the reef as easily as she could.

She glanced at the little child to find that he still slept. Somehow, despite all the tossing and turning, he remained fast asleep. She didn't know whether to feel thankful or deeply troubled.

Something shifted in the black ink, peeling the Octillery's eyes away from the child and back to the danger at hand. Seconds later, the Sharpedo shot out of the cloud and torpedoed straight toward her. Even with the half mile distance she had put between the two, she knew it would do little good. It would catch up in seconds. She had no time to hurry to the bottom of the ocean now. She could already see the white of its fangs and the insidious glow of its murderous eyes.

There was no escape.

When she realized this, she knew that there was only one way for her to survive. It would be tricky and she most certainly hadn't attempted it before, but she no other choice. There was only thing she could do to save herself. She couldn't die and leave the Scraggy as the Sharpedo's next meal. She couldn't die for his sake.

She couldn't die for the sakes of all the children she still had to save.

She unfurled her tense tentacles into the water, allowing all but two of them to drift freely through the air. She kept her firm hold on the Scraggy as she watched the Sharpedo zero in on her. Any second now it would clamp its monstrous jaws down on her or the Scraggy. She had only one shot at this. One wrong move and that beast might rip off one of her tentacles or tear out one of her hearts.

She tried not to shudder as the Sharpedo finally closed in on her.

She waited until the jaws were just about to snap down on her head, and then dove beneath the beast. Then, just before the Sharpedo could change its course, she wrapped her tentacles around its entire body. She ignored the bristly touch as she tightened her grip around the Sharpedo and encircled its entire body to the best of her ability. The Sharpedo struggled, thrashing and snapping its jaws about, but it couldn't break free from her grasp.

The Octillery fastened her suckers to the Sharpedo, and then immediately flipped it belly up.

The savage beast suddenly stopped struggling. All of the ferocity in its eyes vanished as it became utterly limp in the water like a wayward strand of seaweed. Not a single part of its body twitched as the Octillery held it in this flipped position.

She kept her grip tight around the Sharpedo. Even though she had pacified it and forced it into an inert state, it was still alive. She could clearly see the movements in its gills. If she let go of the Sharpedo now, it would only turn itself back over and make a meal out of her. There was no reasoning with a feral hungry for her blood. If she ever wanted to make it back home, this Sharpedo had to perish. It was her life or its.

She didn't feel a shred of reluctance as she continued to hold the paralyzed, now almost peaceful Sharpedo in this vulnerable position. She only watched its gills with a cautious eye, their fluttering slowing with each minute.

When she could no longer see the gills moving nor feel a heartbeat emitting from the Sharpedo, she released her hold on the beast. She jetted away a few feet before stopping and bringing her eye back to the Sharpedo. She waited for the slightest bit of movement, the slightest twitch of its fins.

The Sharpedo remained completely still as the ocean currently slowly pushed it away. It wasn't long before the great killer was nothing more than the darkness of the vast ocean.

The Octillery watched the dead Sharpedo drift into the black for a moment longer, and then swam away.

---

The sun had begun to peer over the horizon by the time the Octillery finally stopped. Every part of her body ached and the tentacle the Sharpedo had bitten now had a numbing ache to it. She could barely feel the water brushing past her suckers on that particular tentacle as she jetted through the ocean. However, despite this, she still refused to look at it. She needed to get the Scraggy inside her home first. His safety was her primary objective. She'd rather that all of her tentacles be cut off than have the Scraggy have even one scratch anywhere on his body. She would assess her damage when he was entirely safe and out of harm's way.

Fortunately, the destination she sought stood right before her; a shallow underwater cavern. It lay brimming with coral that held all the colors of the rainbow. Just about every wall and rock to be found on the ocean floor was covered with such delicate beauty, allowing not a single speck of dull grey to be seen. Many of them swayed in the ocean's gentle currents, waving back and forth as if to welcome the Octillery back home after her long and arduous trip.

The Octillery couldn't help but want to wave back. She basked in the quiet and serene beauty of the reef. Huntail and Gorebyss weaved in and out of the coral. Corsola glimmered with iridescent colors in the light as they slept. Horsea flittered about with their tiny fins, swimming endless circles around the particularly rocky coral. The Octillery even thought she saw another of her kind slumbering inside an empty shell that once belonged to an Omastar.

There was no danger to be found here. No Sharpedo or Mareanie ever dwelled in this cavern. They made sure to stay far away from this haven, lest they evoke the wrath of the cavern's caretakers.

The Octillery swam past all of the coral and all of its residents until she reached one of the many holes in the ceiling of the great cave. She ascended up to the water's surface, and then crawled out of the vibrant cavern.

She now found herself inside the dry part of the cavern. Grey, smooth stone surrounded her completely. Moss grew here and there, particularly where the sun shined down through the gaps in the ceiling, but it didn't cover the cave nearly as much as the coral did. Compared to the reef, the actual cave seemed bleak and lifeless. The many tunnels that lead further down into darker areas of the cave didn't help matters.

However, the Octillery didn't mind. Not every part of her home had to be lively.

"Oh, I thought I heard someone surfacing around here."

The Octillery froze on the spot. She instinctually curled her arm around the Scraggy and hid him behind her head.

"Jera, relax. It's me, Ludo."

The Octillery looked into the nearest tunnel to see a Lombre slowly emerging from its dark depths. She could see how even though he spoke cautiously, he moved at a casual, almost hurried pace.

She loosened her grip around her sleeping Scraggy and set him down beside her. She noted that his gills were slowly disappearing. His skin slowly stitched itself back together, closing up the slits at a steady pace. She imagined in another few minutes they would be gone entirely. The blue tint to his skin would surely follow shortly after.

"Oh, who have you got here?" Ludo asked as he stopped before her and eyed the child.

"A Scraggy I found," Jera answered. "His parents abandoned him on the beach."

"Oh, that's just heart-breaking. I don't understand how his parents could have done that to him. It looks like he's been out there for a few days too. Look at how bony he is. Poor fellow."

"He'll be okay now that he's here. We have room for him, don't we?"

"Yeah, of course. Here, let me see him and I'll-"

Jera twisted a tentacle around the Scraggy's body from Ludo before he could even reach out with his claws. She saw him flinch at her sudden reaction. Jera couldn't help but flinch internally as well. She hadn't intended to react that way. It had been instinct.

"Actually, I want to hold onto him until he wakes up," she said in a subdued voice. "I worry that he won't react well to being around more strangers. It was already an effort to get him to trust me and come with me. I worry what he will do around you and the others."

"Well… I guess I can see why you'd say that," Ludo said as he scratched his head. "But are you sure you don't want me to take care of him for a while you take care of your arm? What happened with that anyway? It looks really bad."

It was then that Jera finally remembered that a Sharpedo had torn apart one of her tentacles earlier. She had been so preoccupied with getting the Scraggy to the cavern that she had completely forgotten about her arm's condition. She hadn't even felt the stinging, aching sensation in it because she had been so focused on just about everything else. Without wasting another moment, Jera glanced down at her injured tentacle and gave it a long, overdue assessment.

Her tentacle turned out to be in a much better condition than she had anticipated. While it did look absolutely gruesome with rows of deep puncture wounds digging deep into her arm and bits of flesh dangling limply off the sides, her arm still remained in one piece. She could still grasp with her suckers and move her arm. Granted, it hurt when she twisted it and she couldn't move it with as much dexterity as before, but it still functioned. She imagined with proper care her arm would eventually heal and its full capabilities would return in due time. She imagined it couldn't take more than a couple of weeks.

"It was a Sharpedo attack," Jera answered plainly as she brought her gaze back to the Lombre. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

"A Sharpedo did that to you?" Ludo asked with a pained grimace. "Yeowch. I'm amazed that's all it did to you. Hardly anyone escapes from those vicious things without missing claws or body parts. Or bleeding everywhere."

"Regardless of the attack and what it did to me, I have seven other tentacles that function just fine. There's no need to be bothered by one that doesn't work as well as it could."

"Are you sure about that? It's really no issue. Maybe Serenity can watch over him. You know how she has a way with children."

"I'm sure. I will look after this Scraggy for now."

"Alright… if you say so. I'll go tell the others that we've got another child here. We'll find a place to put him in. You sure you don't want me to get you anything for your arm while I'm doing that?"

"No. A good night's rest will provide me all I need."

"And you're sure you don't want us to watch that Scraggy while you're sleeping? What if he wakes up while you're trying to sleep?"

Jera could already feel herself losing patience with Ludo. He didn't know when to stop pestering her. He couldn't seem to understand that she had everything under control.

"Everything will be fine," Jera said, forcing herself to remain composed. "The child will be safe with me even though I am injured. He will be able to integrate with the others after we both rest for a time."

"Alright alright, I'll stop bothering you," the Lombre said with a sigh. "Go on and get some rest."

"I will."

Jera picked up the Scraggy off the ground and then carried him into one of the tunnels near her. She crawled through the darkness for a few moments, and then found herself in one of the cavern's many sleeping chambers. About a dozen kelp beds lay on the stone floor, all of them holding young Pokémon ranging from a Squirtle no older than eight months to a Staryu at the end of his adolescence. Jera could clearly see all of them sitting up in their beds, yawning, stretching, rubbing their eyes, and all forms of morning rituals depending on their anatomy. She imagined that they had all woken up only minutes ago.

She had only crawled for a short moment through the chamber when one of the children, a Pichu, pointed a tiny finger at her.

"Everyone, look!" she shouted in a chirpy voice. "It's Mama Jera! Mama Jera is here!"

Everyone in the room stopped what they were doing and brought their gazes to the Octillery. Any lulling energy they might have been giving off promptly vanished as their eyes lit up. With a loud clamor of yelling, every single child sprang out of their beds and rushed toward Jera. The Octillery beamed at each of the children as they swarmed around her and playfully grabbed at her tentacles. She could smell all of the seaweed on each of their bodies.

"I missed you Mama Jera!" the Pichu said as she buried her face in the Octillery's tentacles.

"I missed you more, Mama Jera!" the Squirtle insisted. "Way more than Lya!"

"Mama Jera, we were wondering where you were!" a Totodile no older than eight said as he swung one of the Octillery's tentacles up and down. "You're usually here before we wake up!"

"Henry kept saying that something happened while you were gone!" a Froakie of three chimed in as he pointed to a Natu beside him. "He… He kept saying that some Sharkedo got you! He said that it ate you and that we wouldn't have you anymore!"

"Ah, well Henry was right. Almost," Jera said with a little laugh. "A Sharpedo did attack me while I was swimming home last night. See?"

She laid out her injured tentacle before the group. All of the children gasped as they let go out her and circled around the maimed arm. They pointed at it and dared each other to poke it with shuddering claws.

"Mama Jera's got blue coming out of her!" the Squirtle cried before he touched the blood before cringing back. "It's warm! It's sticky!"

"Why's there blue?" the Froakie asked. "Mama Jera is red and yellow. She's not blue!"

"That's her blood, Francis," the Staryu answered with a condescending scoffing sound.

"Blood isn't blue, dummy! Blood is red!" the Froakie shot back. "When Lya cut her paw with a rock, red came out of her!"

"Because Lya is a Pichu and lives on land. Octillery blood is blue because she doesn't take in oxygen like Lya. Mama Jera takes in oxygen through the water. She has something else in her blood that Lya doesn't that makes her blood blue."

"But Mama Jera can breathe on land just like us! Our blood isn't blue!"

"Octillery are special. They're not like us. She has something in her blood that we won't."

"Mama Jera, how did you escape from the Sharpedo?" the Totodile asked. "I thought they eat anyone they attack."

"I strangled it," Jera replied in a cheerful tone. "I grabbed him with my tentacles and I flipped him over. Killed him in minutes. I did it just like this!"

She wrapped three of her tentacles around the Totodile before promptly turning him upside-down. The Totodile started laughing giddily as he squirmed about. All of the other children soon laughed with him before pulling at her tentacles.

"I wanna be flipped over too!" the Pichu squealed. "I wanna know how that Sharkedo felt!"

"Me too!" the Froakie cried. "I wanna go next! Pick me, pick me!"

Jera laughed as she took as many children as she could in her available tentacles and turned them upside-down. Every single one of them laughed all the more heartily as the blood rushed to their heads and disoriented them. It only encouraged both them and their grounded friends to laugh harder.

"Are we going to die if we get flipped over?" an Eevee about five years old asked timidly, the only one not laughing in the group.

"Only if you're a Sharpedo," the Staryu answered for Jera. "They only die when you flip them over because they can't breathe anymore. Flipping them over paralyzes them. Flipping over anyone else just makes everything look weird."

"So if I ever come across a Sharpedo, I should flip it over then?" the Eevee asked with a tilt of her head.

"I think you should just swim away," the Staryu answered. "You don't exactly have anything that'll let you turn it over. You don't have tentacles like Mama Jera."

"I'll grow tentacles then! I'll evolve and become a Vaporeon, and I'll grow tentacles so I can strangle Sharpedos! Just like Mama Jera!"

"You can't grow tentacles as a Vaporeon. Vaporeon don't have tentacles."

"I'll have some! I'll get a water stone and when I evolve, I'll tell the stone to give me tentacles! And then I'll have tentacles instead of paws and I can strangle Sharpedo!"

"That's not how it… you know what, never mind. Let me know how that goes when you get yourself a water stone and become a Vaporeon, Daisy."

"Hey look everyone! Mama Jera has someone behind her back!" a Mudkip then cried.

Everyone stopped laughing and looked toward the Mudkip. He stood right next to the entangled Scraggy, who somehow managed to stay asleep despite all of the noise. Jera gently set each of the children down and allowed them to gather around the Scraggy. They all watched him with curious eyes, as though he were an entirely new species of Pokémon they had never seen before.

"Ah, I almost forgot to tell each of you something," Jera said. "This is your newest brother. I found him today and he is going to be a part of our family as soon as he wakes up."

"He looks kind of funny," the Froakie stated. "Why does his skin do that around his chest? What are those things sticking out of his chest?"

"He's very hungry," Jera explained somberly. "He hasn't had the best things to eat. He's going to look like this for a little while. But he'll look a lot better when he's had more to eat."

"We can feed him Clauncher!" the Mudkip suggested. "Clauncher fatten you up! Just look at Henry!"

"Shut up! You eat Clauncher all the time too!" the Natu hissed. "You can barely run without passing out!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Henry, Marsh, that's enough," Jera cut in with a harsh tone. "I don't want you two fighting. You'll wake up your new brother. He's very tired and needs rest."

"Okay Mama Jera…" they both said in unison as they hung their heads.

"Good," she said as she gently caressed both of their heads, bringing a smile to each of their faces. "Now then, I was going to get some sleep. I had to swim a long ways to find your brother and strangle a Sharpedo too."

"Awwwwwww!" all of the children whined at once.

"Mama Jera, can't you stay up a little bit more?" the Pichu asked.

"Please? Pretty please?" the Froakie asked as well.

"Sleeping is boring!" the Squirtle added. "We wanna play more with you!"

"I wish I could, but I really do need sleep," Jera said softly. "But I promise, when I wake up, I'll play with all of you. And so will your new brother. I'll take all of you to the coral reef in the cavern and we'll play hide and seek."

"Yay! Hide and seek!"

"I love hide and seek in the coral!"

"None of you guys are going to be able to find me!"

"I bet I can find all of you in five seconds! I'm the best!"

"I bet I can find all of you in one second!"

"I bet I can find all of you in zero seconds!"

"You can't find someone in zero seconds!"

"Can too!"

"Can not!"

"Can too!"

Jera laughed as she watched the children before her then bicker amongst one another, each one claiming to be the best of their siblings. She could still remember the horrendous conditions she had originally found each of them. Henry's family could never have a pleasant conversation, always bickering and screaming at each other over the most trivial of things. Marsh's parents refused to allow him to leave the house under the fear that he would hurt himself. They would lock him inside each and every day, never allowing anyone to see him. Daisy's parents held the most absurd expectations about their daughter, for instance always telling her to eat very specific types of food at very specific times. They had even wanted her to evolve into an Espeon the moment she turned four so that she would become the island's sole psychic and serve as its supposed seer.

Each of these children had stories that broke Jera's hearts. She could still remember how much she had to hold back tears when she found some of them battered and bruised, inches away from death.

All of the children standing before Jera had such dysfunctional families. All of these children were doomed to a life of emotional hardships and psychological damage thanks to their parents.

But thanks to Jera, their fate had changed. Once miserable Pokémon, now they laughed and smiled and developed as any normal child ought to. Not a single one held any development delays and all were quite social, playful children.

The very thought of that made each of Jera's hearts melt.

She slinked away as the children threw juvenile insults at one another and retreated to her bed on the far side of the chamber. Unlike all of the children's beds, hers was the remains of a Cloyster shell. It was an odd choice for a bed, she knew that. All the others in the cavern slept in much more roomy materials such as kelp, feathers, straw, or even furs of various land Pokémon they had caught. However, Jera found no better comfort than to be surrounded completely in hard shell. It added a sense of protection and security she could feel almost nowhere else.

The Octillery set the Scraggy down, and then crawled inside her bed. She shifted about until she found a comfortable position to settle into. Then, she pulled the Scraggy closer to her so that he was just outside of the shell, but still resting close to her head. She wrapped him up in two of her tentacles so that it almost seemed like she was cradling him.

"Welcome to your new home, my little child," she whispered softly. "You'll love it here."

The Scraggy remained asleep, but she thought she saw the smallest hint of a smile from him.

Jera watched the little Scraggy for a few more moments, and then gave in to the lethargy slowly washing over her.

III.
I had expected Glace and Sonata to have a few growing pains. But what's neat, I think, is that they're able to talk it out like the mature adults you presented them as, rather than descending into angry arguments. And there were enough spicier bits (like Glace's perceived jealousy of Sonata) to keep me interested. It's clear that, for all of Sonata's more bubbly characteristics, her past is still something she's keeping under lock and key, so to speak. In fact, that could really extend to all three fragments. As, once they finally find Patience, he's not too keen on saying much of anything. I think Sonata offering little glimpses into her past was a nice way to break up the investigation a little bit. The suspicions Glace still has are also interesting. A part of me feels like that particular character trait could play a role in preventing the fragments' attempts to merge from working properly, and that she needs to get around that. But Sonata's really not helping whe she says stuff like "Don't be suspicious," and "Trust me."

IV.
I think you really hit the nail on the head when Glace started waxing philosophical about more menial jobs/tasks and how they make your mind wander. I was practically nodding my head in agreement right along with that part. Given how heavy this idea of Glace feeling like she failed permeates in the chapter, her taking Patience's job felt less like her doing the right thing and more like some abstract, self-imposed punishment. Which I think continues to speak to her restless, distrusting nature. Even she doesn't seem to be sure exactly why she's doing it, only that it has to be done. Which, I guess, you can extrapolate to this whole quest she's on. At the same time, Patience's side of things is extraordinarily introspective. It's kind of a double-edged sword. Because while it does provide a complete and comprehensive look into his mind, it does feel like you're rehashing at a lot of things that we already knew about him from Chapter 2. I can't help but feel like this scene might've been better if he had someone to bounce his thoughts off of, kind of like Glace and Sonata at the start. In fact, I think the conversation he ends up having with Glace retreads the same subject matter but felt more engaging. But I do appreciate it for the quiet introspective piece that it is. Especially cause it does make me think about emotions and when I find myself happy.

Once again, there's a bit of a tease with Sonata's past in regards to all those ghosts. She continues to be a giant question mark. But darn it if it didn't keep me interested! Lastly, this might be a bit of a nitpick, but now that Glace has more than one resident in her head, I do feel as though you need to start properly labeleing whose thoughts are whose because I got tripped up on some of them.

V.
Boy, talk about a night and a day difference. In a whole bunch of regards. We go from Patience, utterly on his own with no really connections to speak of, to the Pokémon equivalent of Mother Teresa mixed with an extreme vigilantism take on Child Protective Services. It's all so very strange to see in a Pokémon context. But strange in a good way. This is clearly going to create a huge problem for Glace and company when they show up. I doubt Jera would be willing to part with her children. They clearly adore her and she adores them. And she's got quite the hero complex going that's a far cry from Patience's indifference and, as he put it, inability to stand up for himself. At the same time, adding in the underwater element creates something very different as far as traversal and atmosphere go. It's something Glace is clearly going to have to problem solve and I look forward to seeing how that's going to work. Some of the stuff related to that is pretty cool, too. The Sharpedo attack read less like your prototypical, anime-style Pokémon battle and more like a nature documentary showcasing sharks and octopi. I liked Jera's use of jet propulsion initially. And I agree that that was a great way to make use of Soak, one of those moves that nobody in their right mind would give the time of day to under normal circumstances.

If I had to fault anything, it's that I think you went a bit out of your way to keep Jera nameless until you found it necessary. This led to a lot of instances of "The Octillery," which got a bit tiresome to see after awhile. Not to mention, it resulted in a few cases of you starting, like, five or six consecutive paragraphs with "she."

Okay, I'm all caught up! Sorry for the delay. Though, I'm not sure you may have noticed. ^^;