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aye-write · 3 years

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Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region.

However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: If you’re interested in more information, exclusive updates, character art, and teasers for this fic, please consider following its sister tumblr @kildo-pokedex!

This was another chonker chapter at 4.5k that I didn’t anticipate being this long at all! The joys of plantsing, eh? I had hoped to reveal the starters this chapter, but that’s being bumped to next update. In the meantime, please enjoy the reveal of Brootser, and the partial reveals of Weldeon, Ampster and Coastrot!

*****

Chapter Three

Despite everything, night rolled over the Whispering Pine Croft.

After hours battling insomnia, Isla stole downstairs not long after the clock in the hallway chimed midnight. Goosepimples erupted on her skin, the air chilling her to the core. Clicking on the floor lamp, she cast her gaze around the living room. A rickety bookshelf took up most of one wall, covered in dust and trinkets. It didn’t take her long to strike gold.

The Etymological Dictionary of Old Kildonian, 1981 Edition.

Sitting at the old coffee table, she spread out her books and copies of the Old Kildonian script until there wasn’t an inch of space left. Then she opened the dictionary and started to read. She read, moving between dictionary and text, until her eyes strained in the dim light of the lamp, and the words on the page turned into incomprehensible squiggles. Just keep going, she told herself, as she marked off another decoded word. Just keep going. Just keep going. Just keep—

“Isla?”

Isla slammed the book shut. The noise seemed to echo forever in the quiet of the living room. The intruder snapped on the main light and Isla blinked foolishly as everything illuminated around her. It was Blair at the door, swaddled in an enormous red dressing gown and a pinched look on his face.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, pulling his dressing gown tighter. “You’ll catch your death of cold.”

“I’m… I’m not doing anything,” Isla said, trying to collect the papers together, position her body over them, anything to hide them from sight.

“Really? You look like a student trying to panic revise a whole subject the night before an exam,” he chuckled, plopping himself in the seat opposite. “Come on. What’s up?”

Isla sighed. What was the point in lying? “I’m just trying to make some sense of these texts.”

Blair glanced at the clock above the fireplace. “At half two in the morning?”

“I couldn’t sleep. This presentation is doing my head in.” When Blair frowned, she added, “My supervisor asked me to update them with all the “progress” I’ve mad so far. Of course, I haven’t made any yet.”

“So, you’re trying to decode all these old books with…. an out-of-date Kildonian dictionary?”

“I found it in the bookcase. I thought it might help.”

“I’m pretty sure that book is older than me. Please don’t tell me you’re taking it word-by-word.”

“More or less.”

“You’ll be there months trying to sort all that lot.”

“I don’t have any other choice,” Isla’s voice cracked. “Everyone is hounding me. I can’t let this come undone. They’ll pull approval of my project and fail me if I don’t keep jumping through all their hoops.”

“Why is the legend of the Chessmen so important to you?”

Isla hesitated. It was an innocent enough question, but the thought of answering it felt like ripping her chest open and exposing the beating heart underneath. “Well...” she started, cringing at how stupid it all sounded in her head. “When I was little, I was kinda lonely. I didn’t have siblings. Or friends, really,”

Blair made a sympathetic noise.

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t that bothered by it,” Isla lied. “But because I didn’t have many friends, I naturally leant towards books instead. And I loved fiction, like adventure stories and that, but I felt so much more connected to things that were actually real.”

Blair nodded. “Understandable.”

“Anyway, one Christmas, I got this book. I think it was called Myths and Legends of the Pokemon World and it had all the origin stories of all the legendary Pokemon from like… every region in the world. God, I ate up every single story - how Arceus created the world, the theory that all Pokemon came from Mew in some way, how Groudon and Kyogre created the land and sea. I was absolutely hooked. Then, right at the end, there were a couple of small articles devoted to a place called Kildo.”

“Typical,” Blair muttered. “Always playing second fiddle to the big guns.”

“The book explained a little bit about the legend of the Chessmen. I was just… amazed at how these Pokemon brought humans these gifts of technology and arts and whatnot and how advanced the region was for its time. And then when I read what happened next, well… I just wanted to know why. Why did the Chessmen take away what they gave the humans? What happened to them after they became dormant? I was obsessed. When I was younger, I had this stupid dream that I would like… Oh, it sounds so cheesy now, but… like solve the mystery of what happened all those years ago.”

“It’s not cheesy, Isla. Dreams are never cheesy.”

Isla bit the inside of her cheek. “I know that. It’s just… well, this legend has been everything to me for years. I’m not bigheaded enough now to think someone like me could ever solve it. But I’d love to find something. Even if it’s just standing in the same place these Pokemon stood once, all those years ago. But now it feels like it’s slipping away from me. I won’t be able to do anything unless I get these texts translated.”

“They’re well-known texts, right? Haven’t they already been translated?”

“The only translations that exist are locked behind online paywalls,” Isla sighed. “Not exactly within my budget. The originals were family owned. I suppose you can’t blame them for wanting them kept safe.”

“Could the university not pay for you to access them?”

“Not my department. They already think the project isn’t worth the time. They’re usually into social changes, modern day life, that sort of thing. Mythology doesn’t get a look in. Even though I changed my project a bit – focusing more on how the mythology influences modern life, with the Chessmen more of like a case study – the department still don’t want much to do with it.”

“Well, that’s their loss. Your project sounds fascinating just from what I’ve seen of it.”

“This little bit you’ve seen might end up being all it ever amounts to. With Nana Morag in the hospital, my options for translations are limited, and these old texts are all I have to help me piece together where the Chessmen might be.”

Silence unfurled around them. Isla stared down at her lap, her legs shaking and her mouth dry. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d ever talked so much about herself and she found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to look Blair in the eye.

“I think I might know someone.”

Isla pricked her head up. “Really?” she said, hope throbbing in her chest.

“I have a friend who lives in Inverbrook. It’s not a huge city, but they do have a subsect of Tideburgh University there. He’s doing a Masters in Language and mentioned being involved with an elective on Old Kildonian. I can contact him for you. He might be able to help.”

Something surged through Isla like she’d just taken a shot of adrenaline. “Oh, Blair, thank you! That’s amazing!”

“No guarantees, of course!” he said, spreading his hands hastily. “He might not know enough of it to be a proper help. But he may be able to put you in touch with some other folks who can help, if that makes sense.”

“It does. A lot of sense. Thank you again.” Isla paused. “Where is Inverbrook?”

“Pretty much directly south of here. About forty odd miles or so. Following routes 29 through 26 pretty much leads you right there. Public transport is crap, though, so you’re better walking most of it. Shouldn’t take much more than a couple of days if you’re…”

He paused. Isla knew what he wanted to say. If you’re fit. Women like her weren’t supposed to be fit. And even though the thought of days of walking filled her with equal parts apprehension and dread, she forced a look of determination onto her face.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I can handle it.”

Isla shared the news that she would be leaving in the morning as they sat down at the kitchen table. Kenneth and Skye stayed quiet, barely reacting to the news, but Rhona’s face crumpled.

“Oh, chick, are you sure?”

“I think it’s probably for the best,” Isla said. “I don’t want to be a burden, especially with you guys having your hands full with the croft and Nana Morag being ill. Having a guest is too much on top of everything. I really do appreciate everything you’ve all done, but I think it’s best that I head towards Inverbrook and start my research properly.”

A strange expression passed over Rhona’s face, one that Isla couldn’t make sense of. For several terrifying moments, she thought she’d offended her.

“You wouldn’t be a burden on us, Isla,” Rhona eventually said, her eyes brimming. “We’d happily have you here for as long as you want. It’s been lovely having you.”

Isla felt something in her heart buckle.

“We do understand that your studies have to come first. But… you said you wanted to go to Inverbrook?”

“Yes. Blair is going to put me in touch with a friend of his there that might be able to help me with some translations.”

“It might not be as easy as you think, chick. I’ve just been watching the local news. There was flooding down south. The river that goes through Route 27, which connects Port Glen to Inverbrook, burst its banks. The whole route is submerged. No-one can go through. It’s completely impassable.”

You wouldn’t have said the entire of Port Glen had only just recently been battered by a storm, Isla thought, as she set off down towards the harbour after a filling breakfast. The morning sky pinkened gently, like a mother’s embrace, and golden threads of sun drifted through soft, watercolour clouds. A cool wind kept the worst of the heat at bay as she walked. All in all, it was a fairly pleasant experience. Well, as pleasant an experience as walking would ever be.

It was Rhona that had suggested trying the ferry. She couldn’t be sure what passenger routes they ran from Port Glen, or if they only did international and goods shipments, but it was a better option than waiting the potential weeks for the Inverbrook route to be cleared or taking the (extremely) long way around the whole region.

Breathing heavily and sweating despite the brisk ocean breeze, Isla stopped to catch her breath as she arrived at the harbour. She cast her gaze around hopefully. It was quiet. Too quiet. Not a good sign in the least. Aside from the occasional sailor pacing the docks, and the sharp, cutting cry of seabirds, the place was still and silent.

The thought of asking someone to help sent panic crashing through her like waves in a storm, but there was no other choice. The best option rested with a nearby sailor, busily looping ropes and picking apart complicated knots. A Pokemon stood at his side. Squat, muscular, with short brown fur, flecked with white, and cut into a stout triangle pattern, it was another one that Isla didn’t recognise. Every now and again, the sailor tossed it a particularly difficult-looking knot of rope, which the Pokemon expertly shredded with sharp, curved claws.

“Brootser, the Pelting Pokemon. The evolved form of Brogue. With incredibly sharp claws and powerful jaws, Brootser are highly aggressive and territorial. Even against much stronger foes, it won’t back down easily,” her Pokedex chirruped.

Isla’s hand tightened around Soba’s Pokeball as she read more details. A Fighting type. A second evolution. Being a Furret, Soba wouldn’t stand much chance in a fair fight, much less an unfair one. While she did generally feel more comfortable approaching a fellow Pokemon owner, she probably could have stood to pick one with a less terrifying partner.

All the same, she approached the sailor, keeping herself primed like a coiled spring. “Excuse me? I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

The sailor had a strong, lined face, but he didn’t seem anywhere near as intimidating when he relaxed into a smile. “Sure,” he boomed. “What can I do for you?”

“Are there going to be any sailings from this port in the next few days? Anywhere that lands near Inverbrook?”

The Brootser, distracted from its work with the knots, pressed its wet nose against Isla’s hand. Isla let out an involuntary squeak.

“Brootser, stop that!” the sailor said firmly. “Sorry, miss. He’s obsessed with leather. Have you got leather in your handbag or anything? Your shoes? I swear, he can sniff it out within a mile. I have to keep him distracted at work otherwise he’d never leave people alone. Here, Brootser, go and do this for me.”

The sailor tossed a section of rope a few feet down the docks. The Brootser growled, a deep throaty rumble, before dropping to all fours and pursuing. Within moments, the rope was ripped to little more than fibres.

Isla searched for something to say. She eventually settled on, “He’s cute.”

“He’s a menace is what he is,” the sailor said, wiping his brow. “Anyway, you were asking about the ferries? Unfortunately, the passenger ferry was badly damaged in that storm two nights ago and won’t be running any routes for a while.”

“How long is a while?” Isla asked nervously.

“We’re waiting for some metal workers to come down from Hydrogate. They’re delayed because their Weldeon team were exhausted after a big job in the ironworks. Currently we’re looking at about a week.”

“A week?”

“I’m afraid so. If you go to reception and leave your details, they’ll be able to contact you as soon as we know when the sailings will be going ahead.”

“Aren’t there any other options?”

The sailor considered. “Not here. But if you’re set on sailing and you could get to Dewbrae Town, I think they’re still running sailings.”

“Where’s Dewbrae Town? Is it close?”

“It’s up past Aberdrip City, which is an hour’s drive north of here. Then you have to pass through Aberdrip Forest and that brings you out just at Dewbrae. Maybe a couple of days walking if you keep a steady pace,” he paused, and Isla felt his eyes rake her body. “Maybe a couple more. But, if you’re in a hurry, it’s better than waiting around here. Everything’s very up in the air at the moment.”

Isla thanked the sailor, trying to ignore the heavy feeling that came over her. Why was this so difficult? She’d encountered disaster at every turn so far and, in her darkest moments, she couldn’t deny wondering if it was even worth it to keep going. Nana Morag ill, no passage to Inverbrook through Route 27, no ferry from the Port Glen docks, now she had to go all the way to Dewbrae – wherever that was – on nothing more than a possibility?

But what could she do? What other options did she have?

Rhona would know what to do, Isla decided. She had a way of sorting things out, an uncanny level-headedness her own mother didn’t have. That’s what she’d do. She’d head back to the croft and take stock of the situation. She started walking, thoughts whirling through her head like the flapping of birds’ wings. Maybe there was another way to Inverbrook. They knew the region better than she ever would. Maybe they could—

“WIIIIING!”

Isla gasped and swore as her foot trod on something soft. With a gust of cold air, the offending thing burst upwards and pain erupted at the top of her head. Sharp, pointed talons dug into her scalp and she yelped in pain.

“Gull! Gull!” her assailant screeched; each squawk accompanied by a swift peck to the head.

Isla’s hands closed around her attacker’s soft wriggling body. With all her might, she tore it from her head and tossed it as far as she could manage. But the Pokemon swooped back into the air, seemingly unharmed, fixing Isla with a glare that sent a tremble down her spine.

“Gull! Wingull!” it shrieked.

Recognition dropped into Isla’s belly like a stone. It was a Kildonian Wingull. The same Kildonian Wingull that had attacked Rhona the day Isla got off the ferry. At least, it certainly looked like the same one – she could hardly call herself an expert on them – but it was roughly the same size and had the same high-pitched squawk. And didn’t the Pokedex say that Kildonian Wingull only attacked people who had food? Isla didn’t have a single crumb on her. So what other motive could it possibly have for attacking her?

Isla reached for the Pokeball at her waist, panicked fingers scrabbling for the catch. But the Wingull screeched again, diving into a tackle. The impact came low in her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs and leaving her doubled over. The second blow sent her off-balance and stumbling, eventually crashing to the ground where the pain came in sharp spikes. With a fury of feathers, the Pokemon ripped Isla’s bag away from her.

“Hey!” She wheezed. “There’s nothing in there for you!”

Her protests were rewarded with a face full of frigid water.

By the time Isla had sluiced the water from her face, the Wingull had unhooked the bag’s clasp and was digging around in her things. Hairbrush and deodorant were both ignored, the coin purse in the shape of a Quagsire got an inquisitive gnaw but ultimately left in favour of a pen, which lasted a whole thirty seconds until it splintered and was promptly spat back out.

Every inhale felt like she was being stabbed underneath the ribs, but she still forced herself to move. “Leave my things alone! There’s no food in there!”

Wingull had wriggled itself right into the bottom of the bag and had pulled out an old emergency kit that Isla had nearly forgotten about. Most of the items had already been used or dumped over the years she’d had it, leaving only a couple of travel sized Potions, a Repel Kit, and a Poke Doll, wrapped up in a worn-out bag. The Wingull squawked indignantly and decapitated the doll in one fell swoop. Then it turned back on the travel bag, scraping around and tearing at it with its beak.

Something dropped out. Isla’s heart plummeted to somewhere near her feet.

It was a Pokeball. An old Pokeball scratched and grimy with age. A Pokeball that Isla had all but forgotten about ever since she made the decision to train just Soba all those years ago. A Pokeball that was now right in the Kildonian Wingull’s line of sight.

She saw it happening before it actually did. The hungry Wingull viewed the Pokeball as nothing more than a shiny, tasty snack. It darted forward, opened its beak wide, and engulfed the old capsule. Isla prayed that the ten year old ball would turn out to be too old to work anymore, and the worst thing to happen would be the Wingull hacking it back up again. But the Pokeball made a shrill shiiing noise as it made contact with Wingull’s beak, and the Pokemon disappeared in a flash of blue light.

The Pokeball shook. Once. Twice. Three times. Then it was still.

And Isla had caught a Kildonian Wingull.

Isla told the story of her accidental Wingull capture to an appreciative audience when she got back from the docks. And then again over sandwiches at lunchtime. While Soba curled up in the corner next to the radiator, oblivious to this new teammate, Isla released Wingull for the nerve-wracking job of introductions and feeding time. Rhona’s eyebrows rose so high that they practically disappeared into her hairline, but she didn’t protest.

“I can’t believe it’s the same one,” Rhona said, eyeing her half-eaten sandwich she was planning on saving for later. “Most try their luck once and then move on.”

“I think it’s young,” Blair said, lifting its wing to get a better look. “Perhaps separated from its mum too early. Maybe it doesn’t know any better.”

“I didn’t mean to catch it,” Isla sighed. “I’d forgotten all about that old Pokeball. We were always told to carry an extra one or two, even if we never intended to catch Pokemon, like for emergencies and that.”

“It must have been starving if it thought a Pokeball was food. Or maybe just exceptionally stupid.”

“Jury’s out on that one,” Isla said, as the Wingull pecked at a Tauros shaped pepper shaker.

“Kildonian Wingull are incredibly food oriented,” Blair lifted his plate to avoid the Pokemon’s frantically flapping wings. “Most of the bird Pokemon around here are.”

“Why is that?”

“Competition. Because there’s so many, they all compete for the same natural resources. That’s part of why people think Wingull adapted for Kildo the way they did. They couldn’t compete for most of the natural food, so they evolved to take food from humans instead. Problem is, they end up thinking all food is fair game. Hey, watch it! No! That’s mine!”

Isla suppressed a chuckle as Wingull lunged for the crusts on Blair’s sandwiches. In the kerfuffle of squawking and feathers, Isla looked over at Skye, who hadn’t said a word through the entire of lunch. Her face was screwed up.

“Skye? Are you alright?” Isla asked.

Skye made an odd strangling noise, pushed herself back from the chair, and ran for the stairs, each one thudding under her feet. A moment later, a door slammed.

“Did I say something wrong?” Isla said, horrified.

“No, not at all,” Rhona said, rescuing a glass of juice that had been upended when Skye left the table. “She’s just a bit upset. We were supposed to be going up to meet Professor Spruce tomorrow to get her trainer’s license and first Pokemon. But because Nana Morag is in hospital, I have to be here in case something comes up on short notice, and I just can’t spare the time to take Skye up to Aberdrip City. She’ll only be delayed for a few days, but the poor lass was so looking forward to it. Especially when she’s had to wait so much longer than everyone else.”

“Why’s that?”

It was only after she asked the question that she considered it might have been rude. Or none of her business. Too late to save herself now, though. Rhona’s face tightened, her mouth puckering like she was sucking on a sour lemon.

“Sorry,” Isla looked down at the table. “I shouldn’t be nosy.”

The kitchen fell quiet. Rhona let out a deep, juddering exhale and sat back down, folding her hands into her lap, the kitchen suddenly feeling about ten degrees colder. Isla took a sip of water, her mouth and throat turning to chalk.

“Skye had childhood cancer.” The words didn’t even get a chance to settle before they were tumbling out again, like Rhona was trying to get them all out at once. Like they couldn’t hurt her as much that way. “She spent most of her childhood in hospital with leukaemia.”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” Once again Isla found herself cursing both her mother and herself for not bothering to find any of this information out beforehand.

Rhona shook her head. “It’s alright, chick. We don’t talk about it much. Besides, she’s been in remission for a year now. But she’s missed out on so much school and she gets tired so easily.”

There was nothing Isla could say that would be enough. She had to settle for, “I’m sorry to hear that…” and hope Rhona could somehow understand just how much she meant it.

“There was a time when she was being treated that she became very low and very depressed. It was frightening. I’ve never been so worried in all my life. We were scared she was just… giving up. Then, one day, they had some Pokemon trainers visit the hospital. A lot of children there would never be able to go out training. Some wouldn’t even… you know, live to see their next birthday.”

Rhona’s voice wavered. Blair put his hand over hers and squeezed. “Easy, Mum. Don’t go upsetting yourself now.”

“One of the trainers was assigned to Skye,” Rhona continued. “But she was so quiet and so withdrawn that we didn’t think the trainer could get through to her. The trainer had this Pokemon with her – Ampster, I think it was – and it was like a light turned on behind Skye’s eyes when she saw it. I saw glimpses of my daughter again. This trainer stayed with her for hours. Just talking. She’s wanted to be a Pokemon trainer ever since. And I hate that so many things keep getting in her way.”

Rhona sunk her head into her hands. Her shoulders quivered.

Isla felt terrible. No wonder Skye had been quiet during the whole of lunch. How stupid had she been? Skye was being kept from her dream of being a Pokemon trainer and she’d waltzed into their kitchen showing off a Pokemon she hadn’t even meant to catch? It made Isla’s toes curl just thinking about it.

“Could Skye not make the journey on her own?” she asked.

“No,” Rhona lifted her head again, looking pale even at the thought. “She’s not fit enough. We were going to rent a car and drive her, but…”

“Could I take her?”

The offer slipped past Isla’s lips before she knew what she was doing. Rhona looked at her in mild shock, her mouth slowly gaping open.

“I mean, I’ll be passing through Aberdrip anyway!” Isla continued. “One of the sailors said I could get the ferry from Dewbrae Town which is just past Aberdrip, right?. I could take her along with me.”

“Gosh, that’s very kind of you, chick. And I’m sure Skye would love it,” Rhona said, nervously glancing at the stairs. “But I’m not comfortable with her making the trip back on her own. Or even just the amount of walking she’d have to do.”

“I could go with them,” Blair said.

Rhona looked at her son like she’d only just remembered he existed. “What’s that, honey?”

“I could go with them,” he repeated. “We could put Skye on Coastrot. That’s my partner Pokemon,” he added for Isla’s benefit. “He’s strong enough to carry her and we can keep her nicely bundled up. Then once Isla heads off to Dewbrae, I can take Skye back.”

“I don’t know,” Rhona said. “We need you here too.”

“Mum, it’s a day. Maybe two, tops, if we let Skye rest overnight. You and Dad can manage that long, right? You could ask a couple of the lads from the market to pitch in if you really need to. I’m sure they’d work for a hot pie and some cash in hand. And you don’t need to worry about us. We won’t do anything silly. We’ll just get Skye her Pokemon, check in for the night, see Isla off to Dewbrae the next morning and head back ourselves. Easy-peasy!”

Rhona still didn’t look convinced. “It’s such a long way, though. She’s not been away overnight in such a long time.”

“It’s a few hours of travelling, Mum. You said it yourself, Skye’s already missed out on so much. It might not feel like much for us, but for Skye, it’s her whole life. One delay after the other. And with everything the way it is right now, what if there’s just more delays? More reasons not to take her? You have to let her.”

Rhona went very quiet, her face pale.

“I’ll look after her, Mum,” Blair said. “She needs this.”

“I know you will. And I know she does,” Rhona heaved a sigh. “She’s not my little baby anymore. She’s growing up.”

“I’d like to go.”

Everyone jumped at the voice that came in from the doorway. Rhona wiped her eyes. “Oh, Skye, honey, sorry. I didn’t hear you come down. Are you okay?”

“I think I can do it,” Skye ignored her mother’s question. Her voice was louder this time, but still hesitant, like she was testing out its limits. “I want to go get my Pokemon and I’d like Blair and Coastrot to take me. And Isla,” she added, and Isla felt a smile curve onto her face. “If that’s okay with you?”

Silence widened like a chasm between mother and daughter and for one horrible moment, Isla half-expected Rhona to turn away, to start shouting, to deny her flat out. But then tears spilled out of Rhona’s eyes and her whole face softened.

“Yes, honey,” Rhona said, her voice little more than a whisper. “Yes, that’ll be okay with me.”

As they hugged, Isla felt a stray tear prick at the corner of her eye. The emotion surprised her. Yes, it was touching to see a mother and daughter hug and reconcile, but something told her it went deeper. As she looked out at the dying sky, strewn with deepening orange and slicks of black, something unsettled itself in her heart.

Tomorrow she would be leaving Port Glen. Tomorrow she would leave behind a family unit where she felt accepted. Tomorrow she would start her journey to Inverbrook.

She didn’t know which one felt scarier.

#checkmate #pokemon oc fiction #pokemon fanfiction #fakemon #fakemon fanfiction #long post #fanfiction

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