Claris didn’t react to the bickering, watching it play out with the same steady calm she might apply to an unfamiliar terrain. The redhead was all fire and friction, more interested in hearing himself talk than what anyone else had to say. The quiet one—Lars—fidgeted when dismissed, but hadn’t looked surprised. Elias, at least, could manage a passable smile, even if it was all polish and projection.
“Claris.” She gave them the name without ceremony, still standing. “Kapoc assigned me as well.”
She glanced at the arena, then back at the group. “Your sister,” she said, tone even. “Is she faculty here, or League-affiliated?”
A breath later, she nodded toward the arena. “And do you know which trainer’s up next?”
The mention of a Gym Leader caught Claris’s attention. Her handshake landed with polite precision, brief and exact as she offered, “Claris.” She didn’t press, but she logged the detail. She’d skimmed the Gym Leader registry ahead of time. If Ms. Astrid’s grandmother was who she thought, then transition lined up. She filed it away with everything else.
The building’s interior hit cleaner than expected: polished tile, reinforced paneling, tech wired into every seam. Modern, well-funded. More polished than most League facilities she’d visited—and noticeably untouched by history. That, faintly, she noted.
She moved easily through the corridors, letting Astrid’s practiced cadence wash over her. PR language, mostly, but threaded with useful context. Pawniard kept at her side, silent and vigilant, his gaze cutting toward each hallway without slowing.
The training arena opened like a staged reveal—wide dirt fields bracketed by control panels, ready for modification or playback. Standard in concept, elevated in execution. Along the wall, a small observation section held scattered guests, but three stood out by proximity and posture: one sulking, one sparkling, one visibly wishing he were somewhere else.
Claris took one look and got the read instantly.
Unfortunately, the pink-haired one caught her too. He lit up like a signal flare.
“Oooo a new girl! Come here, come here!”
She didn’t roll her eyes, exactly, but the impulse brushed close. Still, she crossed over. Measured steps. Even pace. Expression unreadable by design. Pawniard stayed close, his presence quiet but unmistakable.
She stopped just outside their personal space—not withdrawn, but clearly self-contained—and gave the loud one a nod. “You’re not part of the main class.”
An observation, not a question. Let them correct her if they wanted to talk.
Frozen Cave || Night Kaz’s answer was half-decided and full of momentum, which was what Eryn was learning to expect from him.
“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “Hope you find some good matches out there.”
When he admitted he didn’t have a Pokedex, her eyebrows rose. “You’re kidding,” she half-laughed. “Out here without even a Pokedex? That’s kind of impressive.” Or reckless. Maybe both.
She pulled hers from a pocket and offered her number. “Let me know how that Glaceon challenge pans out—and if you ever get an actual Pokedex.”
Her mood dulled when Kaz brought up Eri. The “Bagon” hadn’t moved since Kaz started talking again, and her first instinct was to shift slightly in front of him. Nothing dramatic, but just enough to keep him from being looked at too long.
“He’s fine,” she said. “Long day.”
Kaz didn’t seem to notice. He rallied his team, made a few declarations, and marched off into the dark like the cold wasn’t even there. Eryn watched him go, gaze lingering on the group—especially the Golduck that paused. Its forehead lit for a moment. She narrowed her eyes, not accusatory, just clocking it. Filed away. Then it turned and followed the others.
She exhaled and straightened. “Dei, take a rest for now,” she said, recalling the Charmander in a blink of red light. The tail’s motion lingered in her peripheral vision a second before it vanished.
Eryn leaned down and lifted Eri into her arms. Even in his Bagon form, he was lighter than he looked—Zorua bones, not dragon ones.
Peri shifted behind them, turning to face the slope. The Onix hadn’t made a sound this whole time, but when Eryn looked up, she dipped her head low, waiting.
Eryn climbed up with Eri in her arms and settled just behind the rise of Peri’s broad neck. “Let’s head back.”
The ride back was quiet but steady. Peri’s coils found their rhythm, and the cold pressed in softer when there wasn’t a battle burning in the air. The miners’ lights came up like dim stars in the ice, then the little dome shelters tucked off the tunnel—familiar enough to exhale for. Eryn returned the borrowed gear with a nod and a thanks, then ducked into the same igloo as last night and unrolled her sleeping pad, corners still curled from the last hurried pack. The Wailord husk above the camp creaked now and then; the whole place breathed cold.
Eri hadn’t said a word on the way back. She didn’t push. She set him beside the roll and sat opposite, arms looped over her knees, giving him the quiet.
“I saw how you looked at them. Kaz’s Pokémon. Him.”
Silence stretched. Eri didn’t look up. His claws tightened against the stone.
Eryn let the stillness breathe.
Then—almost soundless—a nod.
Her chest tugged. “Did you know them?”
Another small nod.
“The Heracross? Gourgeist?”
A firmer one.
“Kaz?”
A pause. Barely a dip. Admitting it made it real.
Her voice softened. “He your trainer?”
Hesitation. Then, finally, a shake.
She waited again. “Your brother?”
The slowest nod yet.
She sat with it, letting the weight settle like snow.
When she spoke, it was simple. “That’s a lot.” A breath. “I don’t know how long you’ve been looking, or what you planned to say when you found him.” Her gaze eased. “But I’m glad you told me.”
His shoulders uncoiled a fraction.
Eryn’s mouth tipped up. “It’s okay if you’re still figuring it out. I am too.” A light nudge of her elbow. “And I meant it—if you want to be a trainer, I’ll teach you. I’ll make more of an effort. Starting now.”
That earned her a glance—almost a smile.
They let the quiet come back, warmer this time. Outside, Peri shifted, stone over stone.
After a while, Eryn pulled her Pokédex and made the call home. Her parents picked up together, little sister immediately trying to shout through the speaker.
“Hey! I’m fine. Cold, but fine,” she said, laughing when her sister insisted on seeing Dei’s tail. “We trained in the Frozen Cave. Almost got flattened by a Glalie—‘almost,’ Mom, I said almost.” A beat. “I’m battling tomorrow morning.” She left out the piece that wasn’t hers to tell.
When the goodnights were done, she flicked to Phoebe and typed:
Befriended a Bagon, almost froze to death, and battling a jerk rival again tomorrow—wish me luck
Phoebe’s reply came back as a trail of half-asleep emojis, a thumbs-up, and a blurry pic of a Foongus passed out on a pile of books. Classic.
Eryn set the device aside and leaned back on her hands. “Tomorrow we fight,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone.
Dei’s ball twitched once on her belt like a snore. Eri curled in, finally letting his eyes close.
The igloo settled to a hush.
Morning came sharp and blue. Eryn rolled the pad tight, cinched her pack, and stepped out into air that bit the tip of her nose. Peri dipped low to offer an easy climb, and Eri took on a Charmander shape before scooting a little closer to the Onix's side.
Eryn's Pokédex pinged with the meet-up details. She’d told Oaken to text her the spot—bright and early—and he had. She smiled, small and ready, and tapped the map.
“Alright,” she said, settling in behind Peri’s broad rise. “Let’s go make it count.”
Actions: Shared number with Kaz, returned gear and rested at miners’ igloo, called home + texted Phoebe, and rode Peri to meet Oaken in the morning.
She hadn’t made it far when the envelope was passed into her hand, folded neatly, corners worn soft from being carried around too long. No seal. No name. Just the familiar shape of something Lucen had touched, and chosen not to say aloud.
He’d sent word ahead, apparently. Said not to open it yet.
Claris didn’t roll her eyes, though the impulse flickered. That was just like him, always thinking three steps ahead, always reaching without explaining. She knew better than to take it lightly. Lucen didn’t waste gestures.
She turned the envelope once between her fingers, then slid it into an inner pocket where nothing else sat.
A message that would make sense later. Or one that wouldn’t. That was always the risk with Lucen.
But still… he’d sent it. He hadn’t forgotten.
She pressed the pocket shut and kept walking.
Grand Glory felt like a city trying very hard to forget what it used to be—and doing a decent job of it. Streets buzzed with people, digital ads blared from building walls, and Pokémon loitered as confidently as the residents. Birds clustered on streetlamps, Meowth sunned themselves on benches, and every few blocks or so, a Rattata skittered between alleyways, clearly used to being ignored.
As she walked, Claris flipped through her Pokédex, eyes narrowing slightly as new entries blinked into view, logged not by her but by the earlier arrivals. A few stood out as she silently scanned the list: Growlithe and Petilil. She hadn’t seen either yet, but the data was there, quietly shared across the network. A reminder that she was already a step behind. But that didn’t bother her. If anything, it made things clearer: The others were moving. She would too.
Claris lingered near a Pidove squabble long enough to see one headbutt the other off a cable, then turned toward the pale brick fencing that signaled the edge of Grand Glory Park.
The shift was immediate.
Noise fell away into the hush of trimmed grass and tree-filtered sunlight. Street performers and picnic-goers filled the green with warmth and motion, while across the lake, a handful of trainers worked their way through casual matches, all white-line sanctioned.
She caught sight of the blue bob of a Ducklett drifting across the water, dumbly serene. Sentret circled a tree trunk on the far side of the grass, one keeping lookout while the others scavenged. It was all very idyllic.
Pawniard walked a step behind her, not looking directly at anything but watching everything. When a street performer’s juggling act nearly spilled into their path, he didn’t flinch, but Claris noticed the subtle shift of weight in his stance. The readiness hadn’t faded.
Neither had hers.
Eventually, the pale brick path curled toward the Trainer’s School. She stepped into the sunlight outside the entrance, noting the architecture: clean lines, large windows, well-kept exterior. Efficient. The woman standing at the doors looked more like a Gym aide than a teacher, but her posture suggested experience.
As Claris approached, the woman’s smile registered. Friendly. Welcoming. Probably standard.
“Yes, thank you.” Claris’s voice was quiet, but clear. She met the woman’s eyes for a breath, then added, “I’m looking to observe battles today. Possibly identify rarer Pokémon in the area, if that data’s accessible.”
Frozen Cave || Night The Glaceon’s smug little hop toward one of the exits earned a small breath of laughter from Eryn. She wasn’t sure what it had said, but judging from the whirlwind of interpretive pantomime Kaz’s Pokémon broke into, there’d definitely been some kind of message exchanged. Not one she followed well, though.
She tilted her head, watching the display unfold: Klefki doing its best impression of a clock, Gourgeist juggling Bullet Seeds like a street performer, Golduck rifling through Kaz’s bag with bold efficiency, and Heracross hollering an impression of… something very, very angry.
“That was honestly impressive,” she said, glancing over at Kaz, who seemed confident of his ignorance of the entire thing. “I think they were halfway to staging an all-Pokémon musical.”
They weren’t exactly the kind of Pokémon she’d pick out of a lineup for coordinated teamwork, but judging by how they bounced off each other, exaggerating their reactions and playing along without pause, it was obvious they’d been traveling together for a while. There was trust there, even if the showmanship was a bit much.
“Let’s see,” she said, tapping her chin as she puzzled over what she’d just witnessed. “Klefki’s spinning keys were clearly a clock, though it spun for an extremely long time. Too long, almost. But something to do with time for sure,” she said before turning to the Gourgeist, Golduck, and their three seeds and Sitrus Berry. “Then three seeds and a Sitrus Berry. Three berries?” She paused, brows furrowed. “And that Heracross sound... yeah, I got nothing. Maybe indigestion?”
Dei snorted beside her, loud enough to echo, and Eryn crossed her arms. “You give it a shot at translating, then, if you’re so smart.”
Dei gave her a flat look, but didn’t rise to the bait. His attention flicked back to Kaz’s team again, sharp and assessing, as if still working out where they stood.
Peri loomed quietly behind them, impassive as ever, though her eyes tracked the retreating Glaceon until it disappeared down the tunnel. Eryn had a feeling the Onix could sense something in the air—some lingering charge still crackling from all the attention.
And Eri—Eri hadn’t budged an inch. Not when the Glaceon left. Not during the pantomime. Not now. He stood like a statue at her side, small and unmoving, gaze locked not on Kaz’s Pokémon anymore, but on the boy himself. Watching him with an intensity that made her chest tighten a little. Like the act of standing there was the only thing keeping him from unraveling.
At Kaz’s offer, she followed his gesture up toward the icy ramp. Slippery, but manageable, especially considering Peri’s height and tunneling skills. One of the exits might’ve led back up too, though. Her eyes lingered on the branching tunnels a beat longer before turning back to him.
“I think we’ve got it under control” she said, grinning. “We’ll probably head back to the campsite, considering how late it is. Are you headed there too, or?”
Actions: Will ask Kaz his plans, if he’s not headed to the campsite, and attempt to get his contact info. In the event that he does not have any, or refuses to provide, she will tell him that he can probably ask the miners to reach out to her, as she will leave her info with them, and will reassure him that they are very kind. Then she’ll hightail it to the campsite/mining camp and call it a night.
Frozen Cave || Evening Eryn looked over the three new arrivals from Kaz’s team, recognizing a Gourgeist, a Klefki, and a little Skrelp wobbling in a water bubble. They looked quirky but capable, and likely difficult to predict in battle. The kind that suited what she’d seen of Kaz so far.
At her side, Eri stood still. There was a tension to him now, tighter than before. Eryn traced his stare and found that he was looking at Kaz’s Pokemon—first the Heracross as it spoke, then the Gourgeist, his head angled just enough to follow their movements. Recognition? It was too specific to be anything else. But how?
Eryn frowned. Heracross and Gourgeist were similar to the bunch of woodland Pokemon Eri had assembled into a team back when she’d met him in the Unmarked Woods. Were Kaz’s Pokemon perhaps his lost friends? Had Kaz convinced those Pokemon to leave with him, like he was convincing the Glaceon now?
But Eri wasn’t only staring at the Pokémon. No, his gaze had returned to Kaz himself. The trainer chuckled at something Heracross had said, and Eri didn’t so much as blink, his Bagon eyes wide, his stance unreadable. Shock? Awe?
The image from earlier flickered to the front of her thoughts—Eri, in her form, silently commanding his companions. His—her—lips moving with unspoken commands, barely understood. Trying to lead, to be something.
She’d promised to guide him, offered to help him become a trainer, but she’d never questioned why. Now, watching how he stared, she wondered if that role had once belonged to someone else. Someone like Kaz, perhaps, who Eri had mustered up the determination to search for, desperate enough to take on human form to do so.
A wilder thought flickered through her mind. What if Kaz was like Eri? Another Pokémon, one that had taken on the form of a trainer. But she shook that off just as quickly. Eri had tried to speak when they met, and failed. Kaz had no such issue.
Still, Eri’s reaction wasn’t subtle, and she couldn’t ignore it. Whatever this was—whatever connection Eri had to Kaz or his team—it was hitting him hard.
She kept her gaze ahead, careful not to call attention to him. He wasn’t ready. She could feel that. He didn’t need a push right now. He needed space.
Eryn offered a loose shrug and a faint smile. “Well, that’s one way to fill a team slot.”
She turned to the Glaceon, awaiting its response, but her mind was already elsewhere, turning over everything she’d seen and trying to piece it all together. The answers would have to wait. When they left this cave, she’d find time to talk to Eri. Alone.
Frozen Cave || Evening The blast never came. Instead, a Heracross stood, flexing over the crumpled Glalie like it hadn’t just materialized from thin air. Behind it, its trainer crouched low, a fresh Pokéball in hand and a grin tugging at his mouth.
“Well,” Eryn muttered as the last bits of Frost Breath faded, “guess that works.”
Across the room, Golduck shoved the other Glalie straight into an icy wall with a Water Pulse, its earlier fury replaced with loud, exasperated quacking. That one was down too.
Eryn released a slow breath and pulled another ball off her belt. She didn’t need it for the fight anymore, but momentum was momentum.
Eri landed in a crouch and stood, still in the shape of a Bagon. Eryn gave him a nod as she set Dei down, gesturing faintly toward the scattered Pokémon on the field. “Take it in.”
The “Bagon” stepped forward, then stopped. His head turned, his gaze sharp and slow as it passed over the trainer and their Pokemon, his whole body coiled like he was trying to decide whether to move or not.
Eryn’s brows lifted slightly. Well, this was new.
“Hey, close one! But you handled yourself well! I’m Kaz, how are you doing?”
Eryn turned. Kaz had that grin again, wide and half-winded like he hadn’t just nearly gotten himself iced.
“Doing great,” she said, pushing a smile as she glanced at the Heracross. “Thanks for the emergency battering ram.”
Her gaze drifted back to Eri, her attention drawn to his strange behaviour. The Zorua had always been a mystery, wanting to be a trainer and all, but this felt different. There was something taut in the way he stood, some unspoken charge in how he stared, like he was seeing something he hadn’t expected to see.
She glanced at her other Pokemon, and sure enough, they’d picked it up too. Peri was glancing between the Bagon and Kaz’s Pokemon with narrowed eyes, and Dei’s tail flicked as he gave Eri a quiet grunt.
“…Right,” Eryn said before turning to Kaz. “I’m Eryn. Is this your usual lineup, or just today’s all-star team?”
Movement at her side alerted her to the fact that Eri had moved closer and was now halfway between her and Kaz, still staring. Though Eryn wasn’t sure what was happening with him, she figured buying him time wouldn’t hurt, given how hesitant he seemed.
She looked past Kaz to the Glaceon still perched atop the icy boulder. “So, you impressed?” she called. The words were light, but her eyes lingered on Eri, watching.
Claris registered the Hydreigon without startling, but her focus adjusted instantly. What had been a brewing standoff between Golett and Pawniard broke as the ghost-type’s attention snapped to the new arrival, tension bleeding off at the greater threat.
Claris noted the dissipated conflict with faint relief. The look in Golett’s posture just before the shift was too squared, too still. Pawniard hadn’t moved yet, but she’d seen the subtle twitch in his arm, the recalibration of his stance. He’d been ready.
Professor Kapoc, for his part, didn’t even react. He just kept talking, as if grumpy dragons were a daily feature in his lab.
And perhaps they were.
Vivian bounced back easily, naming her Golett Atlas with a cheerful certainty Claris couldn’t imagine mustering. She watched as the girl circled the Hydreigon and then the group, full of momentum and intent. There was no calculation in her steps, no fear in patting one of the most notoriously destructive Pokémon in existence on the head. Claris didn’t envy that, but there was something oddly admirable about it.
Her Rotom Phone hovered into her peripheral, seeking attention. She caught it with one hand and powered on the Pokédex. A quick scan of her partner—Pawniard. Male. Adamant. Inner Focus.—confirmed her assumptions, but her attention stayed on the subject more than the data.
He hadn’t so much as glanced at the Hydreigon when it passed, nor had he broken eye contact with Golett until the moment the ghost-type’s attention shifted. Instead, he held that same unreadable gaze, as if he were measuring the world by how much of it could be cut cleanly in half.
Claris let out a slow breath before tucking the phone into her coat pocket. The Rotom protested with a little warble, then settled begrudgingly at her shoulder.
No name yet. Not until she was certain. But something about the way he kept her in his periphery, always tracking, always measuring—it settled oddly neatly with her.
Kapoc’s lecture wrapped, followed by a small sack tossed with barely any ceremony. Claris caught hers mid-air with practiced ease. The weight of the bag said around ten Pokeballs, and she confirmed it when she tucked a few into a pocket and the rest into her bag.
Director Beck and Champion Brand stood off to the side now, Adriane still grinning like this was all a game. And Vivian, of course, was already sprinting past them mid-sentence, her voice trailing off in tandem with the pat-pat-pat of her feet—and then a sharp thunk.
Claris turned just in time to see her hit the wall. She said nothing, but her Rotom let out a tiny whirring beep that might have been a laugh.
Claris didn’t smile, but she exhaled through her nose as what resembled amusement flickered behind her eyes before turning back to the others.
“Understood,” she said with a small nod. “I’ll begin my survey at the trainer school before heading south.”
She cast a glance at the Pawniard beside her. He hadn’t shifted since the Hydreigon’s arrival, but his posture remained alert—blades relaxed, gaze forward, not forgetting the Golett’s earlier challenge. Like her, he hadn’t mistaken the moment for over.
Claris turned toward the city’s heart, away from the simulated wilds and open possibility. There would be time for that. For now, structure came first.
The Trainer’s School wasn’t far. A good place to begin, observe, and prepare.
She stepped forward, and the Pawniard fell in beside her without a sound.
Actions: Headed to the Trainer’s School. She’d keep an eye out for any ongoing matches or materials and logs available, maybe asking about rare Pokemon nearby. Any trainer worth their salt would know what to keep an eye out for.
Claris had expected power from the champion of Evig, not a hug.
Brand slung an arm over her shoulder like they’d known each other for years—which, Claris certainly did, but she was quite sure that Adriane did not. And, in response, Claris froze, locking up as some defensive reflex she didn’t know she had was activated. Brand was close. Too close.
By the time the Champion let go, Claris had mapped three different reactions and committed to none of them. Instead, she smoothed the front of her coat in a quiet, practiced motion, her features carefully still.
She followed as the group moved, Vivian’s words filling the space in bursts of fast-paced, breathless fascination. Claris didn’t mind the noise. There was substance underneath the volume. But it was a lot, especially next to someone who hadn’t stopped talking since the doors opened.
The lab gave way to something much larger than she'd imagined: a simulated forest under an impossibly large dome. A gentle, artificial breeze brushed her face—simulated, of course, but the detail was striking. It made sense, in hindsight, why the building’s footprint on the map was so oversized, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.
Her eyes shifted to the table ahead, which was lined with Pokeballs, each marked with a name. She found hers easily and lifted it, thumb resting just under the button. She didn’t open it.
Vivian darted forward, brimming with excitement. Her Pokéball burst open in a flash of white, revealing a short, sturdy Golett that stood with eerie stillness as its new trainer lit up in delight.
Claris watched, quiet as the girl rambled about ancient energy, relics, cracks in armor, the unknowable source of a Golett’s power. It was impressive in a way. Loud, certainly, but the knowledge underneath was real, and Claris could respect that.
Then the Golett grabbed her.
Claris froze again, eyes narrowing. Vivian was lifted off the ground like a plush doll, tossed skyward before Claris could take a proper step forward. Her fingers brushed her belt reflexively, but before she could do more, the Pokéball in her hand snapped open.
A Pawniard dropped into a crouch in front of her, two blades half-raised, posture sharp. Silently, it watched the Golett, gaze focused and unreadable. He didn’t move, and neither did she.
Then Vivian landed, ungracefully but unharmed, on the Golett’s waiting palm. The stone Pokemon repositioned, stabilizing the dizzy girl, and both Claris and the Pawniard straightened. The Pawniard’s eyes flicked toward Claris, then away again. Checking that the situation was stable.
Claris stared at the Pawniard for a beat longer. She hadn’t known what to expect when she’d been accepted into the program—only that it felt unlikely. She hadn’t let herself imagine what kind of partner she might get.
Pawniard were known for sharp instincts, clean tactics, a certain lack of warmth—but she hadn't expected one to move that fast for someone it had just met.
She tilted her head slightly, studying him.
“Good instincts.” she murmured.
For now, she straightened, Pokéball forgotten in her hand. The Pawniard stood close, not touching, not looking. Just present.
Frozen Cave || Evening The smokescreen thinned fast as the Glalie charged, its mouth churning with ice. It had turned to her now, and the cold in the air was sharp enough to taste. Dodging wasn’t quite feasible now, but luckily there were a few other options at her team’s disposal.
“Dei—Dragon Rage!”
Dei braced and fired, the blast of blue flame flaring bright as it streaked toward Glalie. It wasn’t the Charmander’s strongest move, but it would have to be enough to throw Glalie off balance.
Eryn turned to Peri, meeting the crouching Onix’s eyes. “Peri, Rock Tomb—scatter it wide!”
Peri reared back and brought her tail down hard. Ice cracked under her coils, and stones burst up across the room in rough, rising arcs. They spun midair, heavy and sharp, floating just long enough to turn the cave floor into a minefield.
Eryn backed off, keeping Dei close, and cast a look at the other, still empty-handed trainer. “What’re you waiting for? Call someone out already!”
Actions: Dragon Rage to distract, Rock Tomb to block the charge.
Xaltwind
Timemaster
mickilennial
Azure Bubbles
Joshua Tamashii
Enarr
Tlaloc
Savo
TokyoPewPew
Festive
500
