Taking the Long Way Home (T)

Chapter 1:
A Wet and Miserable Beginning

The first thing Caleb noticed was that his bed was not very comfortable. It could only be described as “rocky”. His room also felt 20 degrees colder than when he had dozed off under his nice warm blanket, after coming home from yet another long and unproductive day behind the register. Blanket...wait...he didn’t feel it on him. Cursing, he sat up and opened his eyes. For a moment he was frozen, not quite believing what he was seeing. Grumbling he raised his hands to his eyes, palming out the sleepy heaviness. Then he opened them again, and nothing had changed.

There was no blanket, instead of a bed he had been laying on what looked like a game trail, and the reason it felt 20 degrees colder was because it probably was 20 degrees colder; he was on a mountainside in the middle of nowhere. He also had nothing but a pair of PJ pants on.

“What. The. Fuck.” There was a slight mist with every word, billowing up in front of his face.

Wearily, Caleb dragged himself to his feet. It felt like he hadn’t slept any more than a couple of hours, but there was definitely no fixing that now. The trail appeared to be exactly what his first impression had been: A rough, disused trail like the one he and his brother had occasionally trekked down while hunting back home. Where even was home now? Caleb slapped himself in the face sharply. His cheek stung after the blow. Definitely not a dream then. With the chill starting to seep through his skin, he began making his slow way down the trail, wincing as his bare feet trod on the rough ground.

In stories, being out in the wilderness is a romantic journey. The hero is well prepared, and uncannily knowledgeable about all things involved in getting food and making shelter. Said hero also usually has a shirt. Stories, Caleb decided, were full of shit. Not even 10 minutes had passed since he started making his way down towards the treeline below, and he was miserable already. He was cold, tired, and his feet were hurting already. And then, just as if the heavens decided he wasn’t suffering enough, it started to rain.

It was a wet, miserable man that trudged past the first trees, the thin canopy hardly doing anything to stop the downpour. He stopped, cupping his hands under a thin stream of water running off of some leaf high above. A few seconds later the water was overflowing. Water, he decided, would not be an issue. Food would be though, as he was reminded by the rumble welling up from his stomach. With a pang, he remembered glaring at the pantry full of food that had been just too much effort to cook after work. The Caleb of last night was an idiot.

With a sigh, he raised his hands to his lips and drank, the cold water not doing anything to help his overall chill. It did however, slake a thirst he hadn’t known he’d had. Head somewhat clearer, Caleb started on his way again.

This time, it was about an hour before he stopped again. The trail had wound back and forth among the trees, seeming to care little for whatever path would have actually been quickest. It trended downwards however, and it seemed he was nearing the valley floor. From the sound of rushing water ahead, it seemed a river cut through the middle. Maybe, Caleb thought, there will be fish in that river. Not that he had the slightest clue how he was supposed to catch those fish, but maybe one would be particularly slow and he would be able to snatch it from the water like that fellow he’d seen on TV a few months back. That would be something to tell Tyler about.

Within a few minutes the “river” came into view. It was more of a stream really, hardly thirty feet from bank to bank, and not appearing more than knee deep around the middle. The game trail also ended with it, and that brought Caleb to a halt yet again. The banks of the stream were sharp muddy drop offs, showing that it would occasionally flood and rise a few feet higher. Along the ridge the brush was thick, a mixture of roots and leafy plants that he couldn’t recognize. Without a trail, and without shoes, his feet would be cut to pieces by whatever thorny nonsense might be lurking beneath the leaves. Peering through the rain and mist across the water, however, Caleb could make out the far bank, and the foliage looked a lot less dense over there. He was going to have to cross the stream.

Groaning, he bent down to start rolling up his PJ pants. Caleb was sure he cut a pathetic figure, plaid pants soaked with rain, no shoes, not even a shirt. Again however, there was nothing to be done about any of that. If this adventure, as he started halfheartedly referring to it as, was like the stories, he’d soon kill a deer with his bare hands, or maybe a wolf. Then he could wear it as a coat. The thought of that made him laugh, and he started trudging forward.

The water was freezing cold, and a few steps in his legs were numb from the shins down. Gritting his teeth Caleb pushed forwards. At least this way he couldn’t feel the aches and pains from his bare feet. A few more steps later he noticed something drifting in the water. It looked like a lily pad, which was ridiculous. Lily pads didn’t float in streams did they? In books and fairy tales it was always the perch of some frog in a pond or a swamp. Then the lily pad made a sharp turn and shot towards him. With a shout he lept back, and tripped over a dip in the stream bed, tumbling down into the water.

First thing that hit him was the shock. Gasping Caleb shoved himself up, icy water dripping down his face. The lily pad bumped into his knee, and some odd shape below it struck a little lower. Still sprawled back on all fours, he shrieked and pushed himself away in a panic, kicking out at the pad and whatever was underneath it. However the water midway across the stream was too deep for the kick to carry any momentum and his foot just ended up pushing the lily pad away. It was surprisingly solid for a plant. He dragged himself to his feet and looked nervously at the thing, a fist clenched and held up as if to punch it.

Erratically the lily pad darted back and forth, bobbing oddly in the water as it went. Once, twice, it circled him, before shooting in and bumping his leg again. It wasn’t a hard bump though, and in an odd flash he remembered the way his aunt’s cat had come up to him every time they visited her, bumping its head against his leg and purring madly. Slowly, he started forward again, soon reaching the other side. With a sigh, Caleb sat on the edge top of the bank in a patch of grass. Rubbing at his numb feet, he surveyed the strange plant. It was still in the water and seemed to be playing. It would drift a dozen feet or so with the current of the stream, and then dart back up stream, zigzagging as it went, only to drift down again.

Finally, after a few minutes it turned towards him again. It leapt out of the water and landed on the bank beside him. There was a squat navy blue body perched on four legs beneath the lily pad, with big round eyes looking up at him. It opened a small mouth and let out a strange chattering noise as it moved towards him curiously.

Stunned, Caleb could only gape at it as it advanced.

“What the fuck are you?”

Man what an introduction for somebody to the Pokemon world! I really like how unprepared Caleb is for this, having literally come from bed and having a limited skillset for the situation he's in. I'm definitely interested to see more!

Whatever the creature was, it was now plopped down on the ground next to him.  Caleb wondered if it was edible.  Curiously, he poked the thing in the side; it felt dense, almost rubbery.  It probably wouldn’t taste too great.  The creature made the strange chattering noise again and leaned against his hand.  He sighed, and stroked at it, much to the damn thing’s apparent delight.

Some feeling had returned to his feet so he dragged himself up off the ground.  There was another trail running parallel to the stream on the side he had crossed to.  This time, the trail was several feet wide, clearly man made.  There were no tracks in it, but it seemed to be in decent repair despite just being hard packed dirt.  Gingerly, for the feeling had brought back all the scrapes and pains on the bottoms of his feet, he made his way over to the trail.  For a second he stood there, wondering what way to go.  

The trail sloped gently downwards as it followed the stream, and the prospect of an easy trail was enough to make the choice for him.  Mud squelched between his toes as he walked, but the lack of sharp rocks or branches eventually allowed him to pick up the pace.  Looking behind him, Caleb noticed the creature bumbling along in his wake.  A slight flash of irritation hit him; he’d never liked animals and the thing reminded him too much of a cat.  It faded away quickly though.  The odd lily pad topped thing was the first sign of animal life he had come across, and the fact that it was being friendly was a relief.  With a sigh, he turned his focus back to the trail before him.

An hour later, the rain stopped, and some sun peeked out from behind the clouds.  The chill slowly started to fade away, and he was finally starting to dry off, though the flannel pajama pants remained sodden and cold around his legs.  

With the sun came a profound exhaustion.  His sleep had been all too brief it felt, and it had been several hours of a miserable trek since then.  Caleb was starving as well, and the sight of strange berries on the edge of the trail had been tempting.  He was no fool though, and definitely not hungry enough to risk poisoning.  

The trail broke out into a wide clearing, separated now from the stream by a wall of trees and underbrush.  Finally, Caleb stopped, looking hesitantly at the long grass to either side of him.  He needed sleep.  Water would be no issue, and while the lack of food made him miserable it was far from urgent.  Vaguely he recalled that the human body could last two weeks without food; although that was not something he wanted to suffer through much.  Stepping carefully, he moved off the trail a little ways to sit down in a soft patch of grass.  He was almost comforted by the sight of his little follower waddling over to sit down next to him, again making strange chattering noises.  With a sigh, he lay on his back and stared at the sky.  Despite his wet pants and the chill of the grass against his bare back, exhaustion took him instantly.


He woke up to the feel of rain on his face.  With a start, Caleb shoved himself up, looking around wildly.  Still, the forest stretched to either side of him.  His home and his warm bed were a distant dream and he was absolutely miserable.  The sky seemed lighter though, and the rain was hardly more than a drizzle.  A chattering cry startled him out of his reverie and he looked over to see the creature peering quizzically at him.  

It had trampled down a small area around itself a couple feet away from him, and in front of it was a pile of leaves and berries that it must have foraged while he was asleep.  He could see what appeared to be juice stains around the things lips.  Hesitantly, he reached forward and picked up one of the berries, watching the thing for any reaction.  All he got was a happy chirrup in response, as if the creature wanted him to take it.  Hunger won out, and minutes later he’d devoured the small pile of berries.  They tasted like nothing he’d ever eaten before, a strange bitter taste, but he was too hungry to care.  

The meal had been small but enough to give him a bit more motivation and he rose to his feet and moved back to the trail.  Then he stopped, looking back at his new friend waddling towards him.  

“You need a name.”  He couldn’t keep just calling it a thing.  His mind was still foggy from sleep and the chill that seemed a permanent part of him now.  He couldn’t think of anything clever.  There was a long pause, and the creature looked up at him almost expectantly.  A sigh.  That was a stupid name.

“Creature it is then.”  It sounded even stupider when he said.  Creature, however, seemed quite content with the new name.  It’s distinctive chattering cry sounded out and it bumped his leg again.  Together, they turned and set off.


Two days passed; the going was painful and slow.  The trail seemed unending, running parallel to the path of the stream.  It felt as though he must have gone miles and miles, but he knew otherwise.  His barefoot state made progress slower by the day; his feet were swollen and cut up in numerous places.  At most, he’d gone maybe a dozen miles since first starting.

Food however, stopped being an issue.  Any time he sat down, Creature would immediately wander off foraging.  It terrified him the first few times, but it always came back to him, bringing with it mouthfuls of leaves, berries, and even some tubers one time that could have passed for potatoes.  The meals were never enough to completely drive off his hunger but it was enough to stay alive and to stave off the lethargy that would come with days without food.


On the third day, he got sick.

It should have come as no surprise.  Caleb had been under intermittent rain for several days at that point.  He’d not had any more shelter than overhanging branches when he laid down to rest.  His body was overworked and unprotected and he was finally paying the price.

It started as a chest cold.  Untended, it got worse.  Much worse.  By afternoon on the third day he started coughing, and his head felt thick and heavy.  He tried to keep moving down the trail, knowing not where he was, only that he had to keep moving.  What was at the end of the trail was a mystery but he had to reach the end of it.  An hour later, he stopped.  He collapsed with his back to a tree off the edge of the trail, coughing violently, a deep racking cough that sounded wetly from within his chest.  Creature didn’t immediately move off to forage as it normally would, instead coming to nudge his side while making soft chattering noises.  

Caleb didn’t notice.  Somewhere in the bleary fog of his head, he realized he probably had pneumonia, and that this was a very bad thing.  Vainly, he struggled to think of what he could do but nothing came to him.  He coughed once, twice, and slid into unconsciousness.

Asmodean95 wrote:A Wet and Miserable Beginning

An appropriate reaction to reading that.:

Now with that innuendo out of the way, on with the content we actually care for.

So to preface this abomination of a review, let me start by saying plenty of writers take that little thing called "Narration" and well...wrend it like a washing cloth filled with too much sudsy water. They just overdo it or it doesn't flow well with the story at hand or would be better as just the character's voice from the start. I can safely say you are not that dishing washing rag. The narration here I enjoyed and even found quite effective in showing our dear Caleb as he finds himself in a random forest, in pajama pants, in the cold rain.
Who are you and why do you like making your protagonist suffer?

As for introductory chapters Yes, I've read 1 and 2 shut up, I'm not that bad they work rather well for getting us into the mind of Caleb. Plotwise, they're alright, though I have two issues.

Asmodean95 wrote:Two days passed; the going was painful and slow.

This is a rather abrupt time skip. Along with the third day coming to a paragraph later. Its pacing seems to be like how your eating a nice warm soup and taking plenty of time to enjoy it, before dunking your face and splashing it around while trying to ingest what little remains in the bowl. This could have been the start of the second chapter with it being two days later or perhaps some kind of scene splitter (Like how I use < O > or some other form of crap). It clues the reader that the scene is transitioning as opposed to just the next paragraph being read saying "Two days have gone by". Dah fuq you mean, two whole days gone by!? stuff like that.

Albeit, this issue I have is definitely made up for the interactions of Caleb and the Lotad "Creature". While simple, it is nice and a perfectly understandable set of events to play out. This, however, leads into my second issue with these two.

Asmodean95 wrote:It was in this state that Michael found him hours later.

This isn't really great for an ender. It kind of spoils what happens next as well as talks about this "Michael" character like we've been introduced. Perhaps this is just a personal preference, but I would have liked to see the scenes of Micael stumbling upon our half-naked hero and the shenanigans that would ensue. So, "missed opportunity" I guess, but I wouldn't call it deal-breaking.

Overall, these two issues I have aside, they were pretty alright starters. A nice, balanced part of a complete intro as we head into
PLOT and learning more about this world.

Also, small rant here. How the fuck does the letter size not go beyond 24, huh? That instantly would ruin the big "LOUD VOICE IN THE VIDEO" moment I had for this section. Stupid internet.

He drifted in and out of consciousness, usually dragged to the former by awful coughs that shook his entire body.  Someone was speaking to him, but he couldn’t hear, his only world was pain and misery until the sweet darkness would take him back, spiriting him away from his illness.

Finally, he awoke and stayed awake long enough to see a ceiling above his head.  What appeared to be a tent spread out around him.  He could hear the rain thundering outside.  For the first time he could remember since he’d woken up that day on the mountainside, he was dry.  He was warm and comfortable under a thick woolen blanket and had a sleeping pad that felt softer than any mattress after he had been sleeping on the ground for the last few days.  Glancing to the side, he noticed Creature snoozing peacefully on the tent floor nearby.

Caleb tried to push himself up, only to collapse back, the world spinning around him.  His head still felt thick and heavy; he also hadn’t eaten for some time clearly.  He was desperately thirsty as well.  With a groan he closed his eyes, trying to stop the dizzying whirl.  A rustle sounded outside, followed by the sound of a zipper opening.

“Ye awake boy?”

He forced his eyes open and looked towards the noise.  In the dim light he could make out a ruddy face framed by wild unkempt hair and beard.  

With what felt like a titanic effort, Caleb opened his mouth to try and speak, but all that came out was a pathetic croak, quickly dissolving into a fit of coughing.  The man just nodded, and opened the tent door the rest of the way, stepping inside.  Carefully the stranger took off his shoes, placing them just outside the door flap, under the awning created by the tarp outside.

“Name’s Michael!”  The man said cheerfully, his accent unrecognizable.  “S’pose I can’t get your name quiete yet now though can I?”  He punctuated that with a loud cackle.  

“Ye been out cold for dern near three days now lad.  I was a’feared ye wouldn be wakin’ up.  Wouldn’t be the first time I’d found a dead man on me trail, but it’s nasty business to have that.”  All this was said as Michael bustled around the tent, grabbing things out of bags, and setting them aside.

“But ‘ere we are!”  He said brightly.  “Got some water fer ye, and sum whiskey to burn that shite out of your chest.”

Michael moved over to Caleb’s side, kneeling down on the floor beside him with much griping about age and his poor knees.  Now that he was closer, Caleb saw that he was a huge bear of a man.  He was tall, heavyset, and had the look of a person that spent more time out in the woods than under a roof.  His brown beard and hair were streaked with gray, and Caleb wouldn’t be surprised to find out he cut it himself.

With surprising gentleness Michael slipped his hand under the back of Caleb’s head and lifted it up.  He raised a canteen to the younger man’s lips, and Caleb drank gratefully.  After a while, he’d emptied it.  Without releasing Caleb’s head, Michael tossed the canteen to the side, reaching down and picking up a glass bottle.  As soon as it neared his face, Caleb smelled the strong potent scent of alcohol.  His face wrinkled, but the other man seemed not to notice, bringing the bottle up and giving him several swigs, only stopping when Caleb broke out in a sputtering series of coughs.  Nodding approvingly, Michael led his head back down and busied himself gathering more things from packs.

Moments later, he returned holding a bag of some sort of dried meat.  

“Fish a’plenty out here,” He said, putting one small piece into Caleb’s mouth.  “Can barely step away from the damned lines and they’re already chock full.”  The food did indeed taste like fish, dry with a smokey flavor.  After days subsisting on berries and leaves, the dried fish tasted like heaven.

For a while, the process repeated itself.  Michael said very little, humming cheerily as he alternated between giving Caleb more fish, water, and much to his displeasure: more whiskey.  The weak complaints he was able to put up were waved away emphatically.  “Ye need some fire boy!  I ain’t got your mam’s herbal tea for ye, just good ol’ mountain medicine!”

The end result was an utterly foul taste in his mouth, offset by an actual feeling of fullness in his stomach.  A pleasant heat was now deep within him, and the tent began to spin again.  This time though, he was vaguely certain it was spinning for a different reason.


It was another two days before he was well enough to move about without Michael’s assistance.  When he finally emerged bleary-eyed from the tent, it was mid-afternoon and the sun was shining.  Michael had a merry cookfire going and the smell of fish cooking over the flames set Caleb’s mouth watering.  He took a seat on a long dead log across from the older man, putting his hands out to feel the warmth of the fire.

Michael peered across at him, scratching his beard thoughtfully.  The man hadn’t said much over the last few days, and Caleb didn’t know anything about him.

Finally, Caleb broke the silence.  “Where are we?”  His voice was raspy from disuse, and he had to clear his throat loudly.

The man’s face creased in confusion.  “Ye don’t now?  Yer on old Michael’s trail.  From yer tracks ye were headin north, thought not very fast if yer askin me.”

Silence stretched between them as Caleb thought.  The answer hadn’t actually given him much information.  Early on before the fog of chill and illness had overtaken him, he’d started to realize that this was no land he knew.  The climate was too different, and there were no mountains and valleys near where he’d lived before.  He’d also woken up in the same outfit he’d fallen asleep in.  It was hard to wrap his head around the possibility, but he was starting to think he wasn’t even in the same world anymore.  That thought terrified him, and he quickly pushed it away.

Michael broke the silence this time.  “Boy…” There was a slow deliberation in his speech.  “Why were ye headin north dressed like that?  Fortree’s not that far to the south, all that’s north is the ocean.  An’ not even a nice beachy ocean at that, rocky bleedin cliffs with this stream runnin down in a nasty fall.”

Caleb worked his mouth drily.  “I didn’t know.”

Again silence.

Michael turned the fish.  “Well, I can’t just leave ye out here.  Even with that Lotad ye got, ye won’t last another week.  It’s at least four or five days down to fortree, an’ that’s with shoes.  An assumin ye don’t catch yer death again.  Sky pisses more’n a drunk sailor out here.”

Caleb didn’t know how to respond, so he went with gratitude.  “You’ve already helped me so much sir.”

“Bah!  We ain’t animals boy, ye find another fellow on the trail ye help each other, every trainer knows that.”  He fixed Caleb with a bushy stare.  “I will admit though, a mighty curiosity as to what exactly led ye to be out here like this.”  The statement was left hanging in the air.

When no answer was provided, the big man sighed.  “Well, we head back along the trail.  My cabin’s about 20 miles back, I can give ye a spare pair of shoes at least, though they’ll like as not fit.  Pack ye a sack full of at least enough to get ye to Fortree.  The center there’ll be able to help ye get back on yer feet, s’what they do for unfortunate trainers like yerself.”  He turned and looked back at the fire.  “I dunno if yer addled in the head or what out here like this, but if ye are, best get ye back to civilized places.”


The next day, Michael equipped him as best as he could for the short journey.  His pajama pants, muddy and faded as they were, would have to suffice for the time, but the older man was able to dig out a spare shirt, none too clean and far too big for Caleb’s scrawny frame.  The lack of shoes was a bigger issue.  Michael had spare socks, but it took a handy bit of knife and needlework for the man to tear up a corner of his tent’s tarp and fashion the most redneck pair of moccasins Caleb had ever seen.  They were serviceable though.

Michael broke camp with the efficiency of years.  In under an hour, the fire was out and the tent packed away.  Caleb’s attempts at helping were waved away with progressive annoyance from Michael, who finally snapped: “Stop yer fumblin boy, I done this a thousand times and more now shoo.”  

Caleb, abashed, backed away and waited awkwardly by the trail as the man set about his work.  It was a sore spot on his pride that Michael assumed him addled but grudgingly he accepted that it was a pretty logical conclusion given the situation.  Whatever this world was, it was clearly enough like his own that people simply didn’t just run around in the woods in nothing but pajamas.

Creature had been pretty quiet the last few days, glaring at Michael any time he came near Caleb.  Suddenly, Caleb remembered how Michael had called it a “Lotad”.  The word was strange, definitely not any animal he knew of.  The talk of trainers meeting each other in the wild and a “center” that would help them get back on their feet rose up in his mind again.  He filed it all away for later; the more he knew about this world and the Fortree city he was heading to, the less likely he would be to draw attention when he got there.

Soon, they were on the road again.  The going was clearly slower than Michael preferred, but it couldn’t be helped.  Caleb was still week from his sickness, and though the tarp moccasins served as protection for his now healed feet, they came with the drawback of getting very slick, something he learned very quickly after his feet shot out from under him in the mud a couple of times, leaving his pj pants even filthier than before and his rear end sore.  Soon he’d figured out an awkward sliding gait that kept his feet securely under him, but slowed down his pace even more.

Even so, they made good time, stopping regularly.  Michael may have been a loner by nature, but he kept a keen eye on Caleb, and offered regular breaks as he noticed Caleb’s weariness showing.  By the end of the day, Caleb estimated they’d made it half of the 20 miles that Michael said lay between their starting point and his cabin.

Michael finally relented as they began to set up camp, and ordered him to go find some loose branches.  He was excessively clear in describing the need for dead wood, not live wood that would have trouble catching.  Caleb bore the tone without complaint, figuring he had little room to insist he knew anything of woodcraft.  So he went and gathered firewood.

The old man was pleased with what he came up with, and the mood was cheery as a crackling fire soon sprang up.  They sat in silence as dinner cooked; it was more fish of course.  Caleb was embarrassed to realize that they had made it back to his original crossing point where he had met Creature.  It put into perspective just how slow he had been moving the few days before he fell ill.

His reverie was broken by a crashing nose off to his right.  Michael looked up sharply, then broke into a huge grin.

“Oi ya big lazy bastard!”  He hollered as something came into view through the trees off to the side.  “About time ye caught up.”

Caleb sat stunned, staring at the creature no, the monster, that emerged into the clearing they set up camp in.  It was huge, easily as tall as Michael was and twice as wide.  The only thing he could compare it to was Godzilla, but it wasn’t a kaiju out of an old Japanese monster flick.  It had a lizardlike body but stood on 2 legs, with short arms ending in stubby claws.  The monstrosity was almost monochrome gray, and it had a single horn protruding from it’s skull.  

Michael turned back to Caleb, noticing his shocked expression.  “Ah ye never seen a Rhydon before then have ye?”  Numbly, Caleb shook his head. The older man chuckled.

“They aren’t common around here so can’t say I’m surprised ye haven’t.  This here is Theo, he’s been with me since I was a wee lad and he was a wee Rhyhorn fresh out of his egg.  He’s a right lazy bastard, an he moves slower than I do so I keep him balled most times.”  

Still too stunned to say anything, Caleb just nodded dumbly.  Rhydon?  Rhyhorn? Balled?  The monstrous Theo lumbered over and plonked down next to Michael, shaking the group and earning a stream of curses from the man.  

Caleb tried not to stare at Theo as the night progressed.  It was sometime around then that it finally set in, the haze of the last few days finally broken.  He was in an alien world that he didn’t know anything about, and all he wanted to do was go back to his lonely apartment and forget that any of this had ever happened.  More than anything, he desperately wanted to be home.


The next morning Michael again insisted on breaking camp alone, making Caleb feel utterly useless.  That feeling of uselessness only got worse when michael suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked at Caleb.

“I had me an idea jus now!  C’mere Theo, time for yer lazy arse to do somethin for a change.”  With an almost mournful grumble, Theo plodded over.  Despite his size he looked almost like a dog being chastised.

“Oh don’t gimme that look there ye big bastard.  Young Caleb here has no shoes, an he’s still half dead on his feet.  So yer gonna give ‘im a ride!”  Theo let out an exaggerated groan, but Michael was not to be dissuaded.

Caleb felt similarly about it.  He wanted nothing to do with being carried about on that monster’s back.  Michael however, was ecstatic about his own genius and soon Caleb found himself clambering up awkwardly along the Rhydon’s ridged back.  It was decidedly uncomfortable.  Creature ran around Theo in circles, chattering loudly.  

Michael chuckled at the sight.  “Little bugger’s protective!  Best tell him off so he don’t get underfoot though.”  He looked expectantly over at Caleb on his awkward perch.

Caleb cleared his throat.  “It’s alright Creature, he’s a friend.”  The Lotad stopped it’s panicked circling and looked up at him from underneath his pad.  Then with a soft sad noise, it glumly backed away to stand at a safe distance.

And thus they moved forward.  Despite it’s bulk, the Rhydon moved surprisingly quickly, though the ride was none too smooth.  Their progress was much quicker, with Michael leading the way, seemingly much happier for the increase in pace.  Soon the man was whistling an unrecognizable tune.

Once Caleb got used to his awkward position on Theo’s back, he was able to look around as they moved along quickly.  Glancing behind him, he saw Creature somehow keeping pace with them, though how it could manage with it’s short stumpy legs he had no idea.  Still it brought him some comfort.  He’d grown quite attached to the stupid thing, it had fed him and been his only real friend before he’d met Michael.  As little as he knew about this world, he knew he didn’t want Creature leaving him.  It was becoming more and more clear that he would need all the help he could get to get home.

His thoughts wandered as they covered the trail beneath them.  Before noon, Michael’s cabin came into view.  It was a squat little thing, and if Michael had told him he’d built it himself Caleb wouldn’t have doubted him one bit.  In fact, glancing at the hulking beast beneath him, he didn’t doubt that’s exactly how it had come to be.

Stiff and sore in places he’d rather not think about, he slid down from the Rhydon’s back.  He had to put a hand on Theo’s flank to steady himself, as the world still felt like it was moving beneath him.  A few seconds later he felt his balance returning and stepped away, embarrassed.  He looked at the monstrous thing looking at him with one beady eye.  

“Thanks.”  

Theo grumbled, then turned away and lumbered off to a nearby fire pit, curling up beside it and falling fast asleep.  Michael swore at him again, moving as if to wake him up, then stopped himself.

“Bah!  I s’pose he’s actually done somethin’ today, as little as it was.”  He shook his head, then beckoned towards Caleb.  “C’mon boy, I’d like to have ye on your way tomorrow mornin’ an’ there’s plenty of preparations needin’ done.”

Caleb followed him inside the cabin.  The interior was very plain, boasting a floor made of hard packed dirt.  A dirty rug sat beside the door with a haphazard assortment of worn boots and slippers.  Michael dropped his pack by the door and started sorting through the boots in the pile.  A few minutes later, he stood back up holding a pair of beat up boots.  He shoved them into Caleb’s arms, and then wandered back off to start rooting through an assortment of boxes and bags spread haphazardly throughout the room.

Half an hour later, Caleb was dressed in old, ill-fitting hand-me-downs.  Everything was far too big for him, but after being near naked for almost a week he was grateful for anything.  The boots were the most oversized pair he’d ever had to strap into, but he was able to lace them up tight enough that they didn’t move too much around his feet.  He’d get blisters over the course of the 20 mile trip, but it was a far sight better than his barefoot travelling had been.

It was still early afternoon once Michael had finished tossing some essentials into a spare backpack he had.  He didn’t have a spare tent for Caleb, but some dozen miles down the trail there would be a lean-to shelter that he had constructed a couple months back.  Weather permitting, it would still be there when Caleb got to it.  There was also a cheap plastic poncho that looked quite out of place among the other more rustic pieces.  If he was stuck out in the rain overnight, he would be able to keep his upper body dry at least.

Preparations complete, they went back outside.  Theo hadn’t stirred from his spot by the fire since they’d arrived.  Creature was also snoozing nearby, probably worn out from keeping up with the breakneck pace all morning.  

A little while later, Michael and Caleb sat across from each other by a roaring fire, the heat driving the chill out of the clean crisp air.  While they rested, Michael took the time to tell Caleb about the journey he’d be taking on the morrow.

“Ye should do it in two days, I gave ye enough food in that pack te get ye there an’ a bit more.  There’ll be a spot where the stream meets the Tamara river.  My trail will end just before the river but ye’ll be able to see the bridge from the end of it.  Just cross the bridge and turn right when you come to the fork.  Don’t be going left or nothing as that’s headin down towards Mount Pyre and the Safari, an’ only civilized place in that part is Lilycove city, a bleedin’ long trek that would be.  Turn right.”  He fixed Caleb with a bushy stare to reinforce his point.  

“Few more miles down that road you’ll come to Fortree.  It’s the only civilized place up in these parts, so I’m sure ye been there before.  Now if ye haven’t for some reason, just ask around an’ say ye need to get to the pokemon center.  Even if ye’ve lost yer trainer id, they’ll sort ye right out nice and good.  Give ye a shower, check up on that Lotad for ye, an’ a good hot meal or two while yer there.”

Michael sat back, leaning comfortably against the still sleeping Theo.

“I dun’ much like the city, so I’d rather not have to come with ye.  So tell me back all I jus’ told ye about getting to Fortree so I can sleep soundly knowin’ I didn’t just send ye off to get lost again.”

“Follow path to lean-to for first night, then to river, cross river and turn right and follow the road to Fortree.”

Michael nodded, looking a little relieved.  “There’ll be some paths branchin off o’ that road, but the main road itself is pretty obvious, ye’d have to be daft to miss it.”  He looked at Caleb, clearly wondering if he was indeed that daft.  “I think ye’ll be fine.”

The afternoon and the evening passed uneventfully.  Caleb lay down for bed in the cabin early in the evening, the comfort of the rough-hewn walls of the cabin closing in around him.  He knew the next day, he would set out on his own again, and the thought filled him with some concern, but it washed away as sleep took him.


A/N Yes yes I know I said I wouldn’t do many of these but I needed to make a small update concerning the upload schedule.  Currently I had been planning on releasing 1 chapter a week with the chapter posting a day early on Canalave Library Forums on Friday, and posting to AO3 and FFNET (all under Asmodean95 if you want to follow me on any of those).  Due to the number of trips I have planned in July and August, as well as the fact that I currently have 3 chapters written in less than a week and a half, I have decided to post chapters as they come out instead.  This means there will likely be dry periods during July and August where nothing will be getting posted, but I will try my best to squeeze out at least a few chapters over the course of those months.  

Thank you for reading!

The Poochyena was not thankful for being rescued, as Maria had assured him it (well she) would be.  In fact, “thankful” was quite the opposite word that Caleb would have used to describe the vicious little hound that came howling out of the back room, interrupting a quiet breakfast.  It took much shouting from Caleb, water spraying from Creature, and the assistance of some bulky pink pokemon to subdue the thing.
 
Caleb and Maria stood looking at the little dog Pokemon being held up in the air by the pink pokemon (called a Chansey apparently).  She was still struggling wildly, her short legs scrambling at anything and everything.  She was also barking incessantly.
 
“Well,” Maria said cheerfully, as if nothing was abnormal about the situation at all.  “I think she’s feeling much better today!”
 
“Erm, what are we going to do with it-sorry her?”
 
“One minute.”  Maria disappeared into the back room, leaving Caleb standing awkwardly with the Chansey still holding the Poochyena.  The Chansey seemed absolutely delighted with the situation, and was now cooing at the dog it was holding.
 
Maria reappeared a few moments later, holding another pokemon ball which she then handed to Caleb.  
 
“She should quiet right down once you get her in that, most pokemon do.”  
 
Caleb chucked the ball at the writhing Poochyena.  Thankfully, unlike last night, he didn’t miss this one.  Also unlike last night, the ball shook violently, bouncing and rolling around wildly around the center floor.  It took a whole minute for the thing to finally come to a rest, and it was with some trepidation that Caleb picked it up, glancing at Maria for support.
 
“Go on and let her out again!”  
 
Unfortunately the Poochyena again defied the “most pokemon” categorization.  Caleb got a rapid crash course in how to return a pokemon when she immediately whirled around and tried to lunge at him the moment she spawned on the floor.  Apparently, the proper way to return a pokemon was to swear loudly and hold out the ball defensively.  Some red light had lept out from the ball then and yanked the Poochyena back in, leaving the Pokemon Center lobby quiet again.
 
“Alright, she might be a difficult one.”  Maria finally conceded.
 
 
The vicious little dog stayed in the ball.  Maria helped Caleb gear up.  Michael’s old pack was replaced by a slightly newer looking back that had good solid supporting straps around the waist, which Maria assured him would be much better.  He got two sets of mostly well-fitting clothes, and a windbreaker made out of some synthetic material that he didn’t recognize.  The oversized boots were replaced by a stiff pair of hiking boots that made Caleb’s feet hurt just thinking about breaking them in.  There was also a tent and a small camp stove included in the kit, along with a tightly packed sleeping bag..
 
“Normally, you’d get a heavier jacket as well, but even at its coldest we rarely see snow around here.”  Maria said.  She then handed him a small binder of plastic sheets.  Curiously he peered at them.
 
“Maps!” She announced cheerfully.  Taking them from him again she flipped the binder open.  “Here,” she pointed at a page. “This is the region map, we’re up here.” He followed her finger to a little dot with “Fortree City” in small type next to it.  
 
“The rest of the pages break everything down into individual areas, showing all the trails and major landmarks.  It’s not perfect, but for a small portable book of maps I think you’ll find it’s very comprehensive.”

Caleb took it back, and flipped through it until he found what he was looking for.  He looked at the page showing the area east of Fortree, and then frowned.
 
“This doesn’t show anything north of the Talon, where I met Michael.”
 
Maria laughed.  “Well no, most maps don’t.  It’s not that those areas aren’t mapped, it's just that it’s not safe for unprepared trainers to go that far off the main routes, so the official league maps don’t cover much besides them.  The sheer amount of foot traffic on those routes serves to keep most wild Pokemon away; it’s much better to stay on those routes.  It’s also quite hard to get lost that way.”  She gave him a pointed look, but the amusement in her eyes took the edge off the reprimand.
 
“Noted.”  Caleb said dryly.  
 
 
Dressed like a normal human being for the first time since he’d woken up on that mountainside, Caleb followed Maria’s directions to the local library.  It was a small affair, perched on the side of a tree a few miles away.  A man sitting behind a desk looked up as he walked in, smiled and nodded, and promptly looked back down to the book he was reading.  At least libraries were the same.
 
He was pleased to see that there was an unoccupied row of computers against a far wall past some shelves.  Quickly he walked down to the furthest one and sat down in the uncomfortable wooden chair that seemed to be bolted to the floor.  
 
The next few hours were spent answering questions that would most likely have raised a lot of concern if asked of any normal person.  He did, however, learn a lot from it.
 
First, this world was huge.  In terms of scale it probably rivaled earth yet didn’t appear to be fully explored, something that confused him considering the technology that seemed to be available to them.  The region he was in was called Hoenn.  Each region seemed to have its own separate government, Hoenn’s seemed to be pretty loose.  Law was mainly enforced by strong trainers, and the headlines of two rather large criminal groups showed some cracks in that system.  
 
Curiosity led him to researching some things about the groups and he was surprised to see that they didn’t seem to mimic any criminal organization from his own world.  In fact their aims seemed fairly benign, just opposing ecological viewpoints.  What set them apart was that both teams (dubbed Aqua and Magma) were quite happy to bypass any laws that impeded them.  Whatever they were, they were of no concern to him right now.
 
Second, Pokemon.  There were so many of them.  Thankfully a few more tentative internet searches showed that most people didn’t know most pokemon, and were usually just familiar with the ones in their local area and those that were popular in their competitive Pokemon League.  Knowing that, Caleb was fairly certain that he could pass off a lack of knowledge as simply “not being local”, and if he left Fortree he could make the lie a little more robust by adding that he was from Fortree.  As for the league, well, not everyone was interested in sports were they?  He tried to learn what he could about the local wildlife, but was overwhelmed very quickly.  Instead he settled on learning more about Creature and the Poochyena.  
 
Creature was a Lotad, something he already knew, but what he hadn’t known was that he could evolve.  There were some pictures of the next two stages, the first being a two-legged version of Creature with long arms and the second being a huge yellow and green monstrosity that apparently grew almost 5 feet tall.  He hoped Creature never turned into whatever the hell that thing was.
 
The last thing he discovered was the most worrying.  Somewhere in his mind, he had figured on this world accepting the possibility of another world.  Pokemon was fiction in his world, so why couldn’t it be the other way around?  He had almost expected to find stories or television shows detailing some “Planet Earth” and some wild stories concerning all the different cultures.  There was not a single such story.  No matter what he typed into the search bar, nothing.  
 
The closest he came was a discovery of a “Space Center” far off on some island in the ocean.  Some mapwork later, and it appeared to be called Mossdeep City, and was at least technically a part of Hoenn.  A small plan formed at the back of his mind.  It was a desperate one, and probably stupid.  More mapwork showed that Mossdeep City was almost five hundred miles away.  There was a long trail down to the south that turned east and continued on to a city called Lilycove.  From there, his only option would be to go by sea out to Mossdeep.  
 
It didn’t make much sense but the more he looked his other options made even less sense.  He couldn’t stay here, Fortree itself had little to note except for some weather facility some 30 miles to the southwest, and there weren’t any other notable places within a thousand miles.  Was it possible that he was in the same universe at least?  There was little on astronomy available online other than some nonsense about using various stars to navigate; nothing seemed to exist detailing other planets in the same solar system even.
 
A couple more hours of research convinced him.  There was no other logical choice.  It appeared that there was a pantheon of “Legendary” Pokemon that struck him as quite religious, he dismissed that as nonsense immediately.  He didn’t believe in any higher power back at home and he doubted any higher power existed here either.
 
So that was the answer then; he’d go to Mossdeep and check out this Space Center.  It was completely absurd, he wasn’t going to be able to just jump in a rocket and go whizzing off back to earth.  But maybe, just maybe, he’d find some answers.  He had to do something at least, he didn’t belong here.


Caleb wanted nothing more than to just go home.

Chapter 6
Safety in Numbers
 
At Maria’s insistence, Caleb spent one more day in Fortree.  She had picked up on his recent sickness, and bullied him into staying a bit longer.  He used the time to learn a little more about the surrounding area.  
 
He was eating lunch that day when Maria came back in.  
 
“So what did you name her?”  He froze, fork halfway to his mouth.
 
“Pardon?”
 
“Your little pup’s name!  Like I said, it's not right for a trainer to be calling their Pokemon by their species’ name!”  She said this with a tinkling laugh.
 
Caleb mulled it over.  He was terrible with names, Creature was proof enough of that.
 
“Hellhound.”  He said flatly, shooting a glare towards the pokeball sitting on the table beside him.  
 
Maria made a very unlady-like snort.  “A creative choice.  Why don’t you let her out to get a bite to eat?”
 
“I....don’t think that’s a very good idea.”
 
She made a dismissive gesture.  “Oh it’ll be fine, here we’ll put down this bowl for her.  She’ll be so hungry when she pops out she’ll go right for it!” Saying that, she whisked a bowl of food from behind the counter and set it down on the floor near Caleb.
 
He tentatively picked up the pokeball and held it out towards the food bowl. Steeling himself, he pressed the button at the front of the ball, jerking his finger back from it as if the little circle might bite him. A flash of light and Hellhound was loose again.
As expected, she came out barking and snarling. Whether it was the smell or the sight of the food that stopped her, the noise cut off abruptly and the Poochyena descended on the little bowl of food. It was all Caleb could do to watch in shock as she ripped into a mountain of chow that was bigger than her head. Within seconds, the bowl was empty and Hellhound was licking the sides clean with as much enthusiasm as she'd had when she started. A few seconds later everything was silent.
"Well that's much bett-" Maria started to say, but she was interrupted by Hellhound whirling about at the noise of her voice and lunging snarling and barking towards her.
It turned out Caleb didn't need to curse loudly to make the pokeball work. This was lucky because he was quite certain Maria would be missing a chunk of a leg if he hadn't been able to return Hellhound to her ball.
It was quiet for a few moments.
"That's...going to give you some trouble." She said, a not unreasonable amount of concern in her voice.
Caleb grimaced. "You can say that again."
The next day he was finally able to convince Maria to let him leave. He felt almost bad about it; she'd been like a mother to him the last few days. She'd been kind and mostly non-judgemental, despite his sorry state upon arrival. Caleb fought down an unreasonable urge to stay another day, the center had very quickly provided a sense of security that he hadn’t had in some time.  He felt grounded here, he felt sane.   But he had to leave, and he knew that.


Maria didn’t make it any easier.


“You know…” she hesitated.  “I know some folks around town, could get you an actual place to stay and work.  Always work around here for a young fellow like yourself.”  She left the sentence hanging in the air.


He almost abandoned it all.  Almost threw his plans out to stay.  Fortree was a nice city, the last couple of days had shown him that much.  He had nothing to return to anyway didn’t he?  But that wasn’t right.  He did have something to return to.  His mother must be worried sick at this point; he’d missed their weekly dinner for sure.  His job had almost certainly written him off at this point, but that was no big issue he could get another.  He’d lose his apartment in a couple more weeks if he didn’t have rent paid, hell he was probably going to lose that no matter what but at least he could get back to his family.


“Thank you but...I can’t.”  He swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat.


“I just don’t see what’s in Mossdeep if you don’t want to take on the league.”



It had been a mistake telling her his plans, but he’d felt she’d deserved to know.  It had, however, been very difficult to find a believable reason why he wanted to go to Mossdeep specifically.  He’d only been able to shrug noncommittally.


He was saved from answering by the sound of the doors sliding open behind them.  Surprised he turned to look; it was, as Maria had said, an off-season for trainers.  A figure stood framed in the light spilling in.  As it moved into the room, Caleb was able to make out a young woman’s figure.


She was very short.  A round baby-face peered out beneath a mop of blond hair with a tinge of red to it.  It was raining outside, and water was streaming off the hood of her raincoat, almost identical to the one that Caleb had been given. 



“Oh dear Irene,”  Maria said, bustling over to the girl.  “Back from the institute already?”


At the mention of the word “institute” Irene’s face bunched up, her bottom lip quivering.  A small sniffle, and then she burst into tears.  Maria let out an exasperated sight and moved forward, taking the girl in her arms and shepherding her, much to Caleb's dismay, to his table.



“They didn’t want to hire me!”  Irene wailed.  “Told me to go to school!”



Maria sat next to the girl with her arm around her, trying to get the girl to calm down.  Caleb wondered if it would be rude to say his goodbyes now and get out of this situation.  Then Maria’s face got thoughtful.


“School though, they want you to get a degree in meteorology right?”


Irene nodded, her face now all puffy and tear-streaked on top of its natural chubbiness.  “I tried to tell them I’d been reading books about it since I was a little girl.”  She sniffled loudly, but thankfully the tears seemed to have dried up.  “But they didn’t care, all they want is another stupid paper to hang up on their wall.”


“Well,” Maria said brightly.  “There’s a fantastic university in Lilycove!  Have you ever been down there?”


A sinking feeling started in Caleb’s stomach.  Desperately he tried to come up with a solution to his impending doom.  Irene shook her head.
“Never left Fortree before I went down to the weather institute.”


“Caleb here is heading to Mossdeep as it happens, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some company on the road.”  Irene visibly brightened at the suggestion.


“I don’t think-” He was cut off by a sharp look from the woman.  He sighed and kept his mouth shut.


The problem Caleb had with people was they always seemed to trade in unspoken favors.  If someone was nice to you it wasn’t just left at that; you owed them now .  Maria had taken him in; going above and beyond in helping him out.  He wished it could have just been left at that, but it was never just left at that.


He looked at the two women sitting across from him.

 
“Well, I was gonna head out this morning.  Do you need more time?”



“Not at all!  It’s nice to meet you Mr. Caleb!” She thrust out a pudgy hand across the table.  “I’m Irene.”


Trying not to grimace, Caleb grasped her hand and shook it.  “Pleasure.”


Maria clapped her hands excitedly.  “Well that makes two of you then!  And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me feel a damn sight better about letting either of you run off on your own!”


Caleb sighed and got to his feet, shouldering his pack.  “Weather’s clearing up, we should get on our way.” 



Irene rose as well, smiling brightly at him.  The expression looked monstrous on her face still wet from tears.  Together, they left the center, followed by an unending stream of well wishes and advice from Maria.  Minutes later they were walking out from under the titanic trees that housed Fortree, and back along the path Caleb had arrived on.
Different worlds, different goals, but the same path.  They walked off into the morning light.
 
A/N:  Sorry for the shorter chapter this week, I decided to cut this one a little short because in about 5 hours I will be leaving for a week long trip.  There will likely be no updates to the story for a week and a half or so. 

I also wanted to say thank you to everyone reading this!  I’ve been very surprised to see the traffic numbers on this fic on both AO3 and FFNET.  There have been a few reviews as well across both sites, I’m glad to see that people are enjoying this so far.  The first few chapters will likely be getting rewrites sooner or later.  You may have noticed some inconsistencies if you have read the initial chapters, those are marked in my own comments for the eventual rewrites.  That being said, I appreciate any and all criticism and people pointing out things to fix or improve.


I want to add one more thing onto this author’s note: a warning.  This is not a happy pokemon league fic, where our hero will save the world and win the championship in the process.  I have the entire fic storyboarded out, and if you are expecting any of those things then you may as well leave now.
That’s all from me for now!  I will try to get another couple of chapters out in the week I’ll have before I leave again, but I can’t make any promises.  See you all in the next chapter!

It took Caleb less than an hour to decide he hated Irene.  They had gone no more than a mile before she demanded they stop for a break, which ended up turning into a full-blown meal.  By noon, she was red-faced and irritable.


“You walk too fast,”  She whined.  “My feet are hurting already.”  The griping continued with no end in sight.


Finally, after being subjected to yet another string of complaints, he drew to a halt and rounded on her.


“We have almost four hundred fucking miles to go Irene.  We’ve barely gone ten in the last four hours, and you want to make camp already?”


She froze and stared at him, looking shocked.  “I-”


“No!” He cut her off. “I need to get to Mossdeep, and we’re already looking at a four week trip just to get to Lilycove, assuming nothing goes wrong.  Fuck knows how long it’ll take me from there.”

 
It was the most he had said to her since they first left, and he almost regretted it immediately when he saw her bottom lip start quivering.  Almost.
He sighed.  “Look, fifteen miles a day.” They had mile markers on the trail as they went, and occasional signs showing the astronomical distance remaining.  “Fifteen’s not much, you can do that much at least until you get used to it, yes?  After a while we should be bumping that up to twenty.  This road is really easy to travel, we can make that easily if it stays this way.”


He didn’t say it, but he was pretty out of shape himself.  The trip from the mountain range north of Fortree hadn’t been that long of a hike, and it had been broken up.  He and his brother had been going on hikes and hunting trips back home, but not with any frequency to prepare him for the upcoming weeks of travel.  Still, Irene’s constant stream of complaints had pushed him past being sympathetic.


Irene stayed silent.  Caleb took it as an agreement and started walking again.  A few moments later, he heard her footsteps resume behind him.  There was a small sniffle but nothing more.  He pushed down a surge of guilt, and pressed forward.



A few hours later the complaints resumed in full force, and he reluctantly agreed to make camp.  Irene was still sulking and he was in a foul mood, so camp was set up in silence.  He was relieved to see that Irene at least had packed her own tent, the further he was from her the better.
 
They had a short meal of stew heated up in water from a nearby stream.  Creature had gone off foraging the moment they had stopped, and had amassed a modest pile of berries and leaves next to the spot Caleb was sitting. 



Finally Irene spoke up.  "Aren't you going to feed him?"  She pointed at Creature, who was now happily munching away.


Caleb shrugged.  "He's got his own food hasn't he?  That'll fill him up just fine."


Truth was Caleb had no idea if the foraged meal was enough.  Creature didn't seem to have any complaints though. 



The silence stretched for a bit longer.  Much too soon it was broken by Irene.


“So…” she paused, uncertainty on her face.  “Why are you so hellbent on getting to Mossdeep?”


He bit back an irritated response.  After a long pause he said: “I...need to look into something there, something important to me.”


She looked at him curiously.  “It’s just best I can tell, you’re not really trying to be a competitive trainer are you?  You’ve just got those two pokemon, and you’ve made no effort to try and train them a bit.  Creature is bulky by Lotad standards, probably really close to evolving but...you didn’t know that did you?”


He sat in silence, desperately trying to figure out what to say.


“And,” Irene pressed on. “You’re so angry all the time.  People go on journeys for themselves, they go to see the world and grow as a person before they settle down.  That’s what I did, me and my golbat.” 



Caleb desperately tried to think of a way to derail the conversation.  Finally he sighed.  “I…” He struggled to find the words to describe his situation without sounding absolutely insane.  “I lost someone very close to me.” The lie was beginning to form in his mind.  “Really good friend of mine from Mauville.  He had family in Mossdeep.”

He left it at that, praying she wouldn’t press for more details.


Irene was staring at him.  “So you came all the way from Mauville already?”


He shrugged.  “I never was much for adventure, thought it was time I tried.”  He kicked his feet out in front of him to catch some of the dying fire’s warmth.  “Been a fucking disaster the whole way.”


She smiled at him encouragingly.  “We’ll get you to Mossdeep in no time at all!”


He snorted.  “Gotta go more than ten miles a day for that.”  She stuck out her tongue at him, and the mood was considerably improved after that.


The next few days passed surprisingly uneventfully.  Over the miles, the road’s quality had gone steeply downhill.  He noticed that as the roads got worse, Irene seemed more and more on edge.  She jumped at every noise that echoed from the thick trees on either side.


That was another thing that had changed, the forest was absolutely thick now.  It was also raining almost nonstop, making him incredibly glad for the long poncho he’d shoved back in the pack before they’d left Fortree.  It was the dumbest looking thing he’d ever seen, but it was definitely effective in keeping him dry.


Five days after they’d left, they’d made decent progress.  About 80 miles of it at least.  Lilycove still felt an eternity away.  The storms had gotten considerably worse as they progressed; that afternoon they were so bad that they could barely hear each other shouting over the rain.  Finally, they set up camp early, finding somewhere relatively sheltered back against a hill.  There was no fire that evening.  They just sat in one of the tents, each happy to at least have the other’s company in silence.


The thunder of the rain was broken by an ear splitting screech.  It was a sound so inhuman that were he not about to come face to face with its source, Caleb would have forever thought it to be some freak grinding of stone on metal.



Both him and Irene bolted to their feet, looking at each other in a panic.  “What the fuck was that?” Caleb asked, but Irene’s confusion was just as clear as his own.


“I don’t know, worse things in this area are Absol and Tropius, but neither of them-” There was no time for any words, as the world seemed to tear apart around them.  One second they were scrambling for the tent door and the next the very ground beneath them had risen up in horrible chunks.  A momentary weightlessness, followed by a brutal impact as the tent and everything it had been on came crashing back down to earth. 



A muffled scream came from what he assumed was Irene, but Caleb paid it no mind as his own panic consumed him.  He scrambled at the cloth surrounding him; by some miracle his grasping fingers found the zipper which he yanked desperately on.


The rain flooded down into the opening, a brief flash of thunder illuminating the surroundings as he poked his head out.  What he saw made him freeze, his heart stopping in his chest.  Towering above him among the remains of the hillside they had camped on was the most horrifying thing he’d ever seen.  It was a squat bipedal monstrosity, appearing to be made up entirely of stone.  It shifted and turned towards him, letting out another horrific screech.  The front of what must have been its head was covered in a series of glowing yellow spots.  Slowly, the horror started moving towards him.


Caleb scrambled backwards, kicking the remains of the tent off of his feet.  All sense fled him as all he could think of was that he must escape from this beast.  He somehow got to his feet, and turned and ran like he’d never ran before.  It wasn’t enough.


Again, the ground tore apart and his feet flew out from beneath him.  He felt an impact on his lower back and an explosion of pain sent him airborne, the ground blurring beneath him.  A moment later he was tumbling through the brush, sharp branches ripping at his skin.  A sharp crack and the world went black.


Slowly, it all came back into focus.  The sound of the rain.  The wind in the trees.  The rush of water from a stream several feet away.  His eyes slowly focused in front of him, seeing a very familiar pair of eyes looking back at them.  With a groan, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, shooing Creature’s panicked headbutting away.  His head was spinning, he could barely bend his back, and his arms were bloody and torn.  In a panic, he turned back towards the camp, the sudden movement sending waves of agony through his spine and skull, almost dropping him back into unconsciousness.  The monster was nowhere to be seen.  Everything was silent.


He took a moment to collect himself.  Head injuries.  He’d struck his head hard enough to lose consciousness for long enough for the beast to leave.  That was bad.  A fuzzy voice at the back of his mind whispered something about concussions, but the concept escaped him.  His back had taken a nasty blow in the process as well.  It didn’t feel broken, but he was having a lot of trouble even turning at the waist to look around.


Using a nearby tree, he dragged himself to his feet.  That was the wrong choice.  Seconds later he was on his back staring up at the sky, wondering how he’d gotten there.  He blinked, trying to get the water out of his eyes.  It just kept coming.  He rolled over onto his side, the motion sending waves of pain and nausea through him.  A cough, a splutter, and he puked.


He wasn’t sure how long he lay there.  It might have been minutes, it could have been hours.  The only sounds were of the storm, and of his little Lotad’s panicked chattering near his head as the thing scurried about.


Finally the pain subsided enough for him to crawl back towards the camp.  He tried to rise to his feet a couple of times, but the world started spinning and he went back to crawling.  His eyes were out of focus, staring blankly at the ground as he put one hand in front of the next, pulling himself forward.  Suddenly the color of the ground changed.  Blue.  The tent tarp.


Looking up, Caleb managed to bring the scene into focus.  The entire campsite was torn to pieces.  It looked as if a child had stormed through a sandbox, kicking up new hills where it had been flat, and tearing asunder the hills that had been.  The tent was in twisted shambles in front of him.  Irene was nowhere to be seen.


But there, beneath the far side, there was a lump.  Caleb scrambled towards it, the sudden motion sending waves of sickness and pain through him again.  This time he pushed them down.


Irene was nowhere near the entrance to the tent, but it didn’t matter.  When the earth had been torn apart the rocks had ripped the material into shreds.   Shoving the scraps of tarp aside, he came face to face with Irene.  He stared, the world going still.  The face that stared up at him was unblinking, twisted in pain and fear.  Raindrops splashed down on unseeing eyes.
 

He tried to scream, but all that came out was a choked gurgle.  Shaking, he fell to the side, and the world went blissfully black once more.