In Memoriam

A Clover Guild Story
For the “BOO! Haunted Guild!” Collaboration
By Ribombee-anon

Chapter 1: Ghost Trick

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p6rq1hgwnwM (BGM: Awakening - Ender Magnolia)

Darkness. Rage. Confusion. Pain. A horrible Aura slammed down on my mind with a crushing weight as soon as Sneasel and I entered what used to be our home.

The Clover Guildhall had been invaded by a Spiritomb, and in a scuffle with our guildmate Toge, a hidden Magnagate machine had been broken. The damaged device not only distorted the guildhall into a dungeon, but also scattered and enraged the Spiritomb’s constituent spirits—and even merged them with the dungeon itself. The members of the guild, including me and my partner Sneasel, had entered this place to pacify and retrieve the spirits, which was the only way to stop the growing corruption and rescue our friend.

I expected this dungeon to be strange. I hadn’t expected my mind to be bombarded with so much negativity as soon as we entered. It was different from the typical background energy I could sense within each dungeon; instead, this was a ubiquitous foul presence. It was dense, cold, and tattered in its texture, like fabric shredded by a vicious beast. It weaved into my mind and infested it with a seething hatred directed at me and my partner.

We weren’t alone in here, and whatever was here despised us.

It was too much. That thing was watching us. It was right in this room, all around us. We had to—

“You alright, Booker?”

Sneasel’s familiar voice cut through the veil. I gasped and shook myself. My vision returned to me, and I felt my own body again. I was sitting atop our items in her belt pouch at her right hip, and she was looking down at me with a frown.

“I-I’m alright,” I said. “Thanks.”

Sneasel reached down and gave me one of her signature noogies. “Don’t quit on me now,” she said. “We literally just got here.”

I lightly shoved away her knuckle and took a deep breath. “I know. Sorry. It’s just... I s-sense so much anger in here.”

“Oh. Like, an Aura thing? Is there someone in here with us?”

“I think so... I can’t tell for sure. It’s all around, whatever it is. L-let’s just stay on guard.”

“Gotcha. Y’know, sometimes I’m glad I can’t sense the kinda stuff you can.”

“I’m certainly glad you’re spared from this,” I murmured.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-v0TKepChA (BGM: Agon Wastes - Metroid Prime 2: Echoes)

We took the chance to examine the room. Although we had just stepped into the guildhall lobby moments ago, the dungeon apparently began at the very threshold of the building, because we had been immediately transported to a replica of the dojo. My partner and I had spent countless hours in this room, and it was probably our most frequented spot in the guildhall (aside from our dorm). It looked almost exactly like I remembered: a large open space stocked with training tools such as dummies, weights, and targets. A round tatami mat lay in the center of the wooden floor. The walls were white and bore some lanterns and windows, though the exterior view was strangely pitch-black instead of showing the expected field and forest, as if we were floating in a void. Behind us was the entrance to the room, but instead of leading into a perpendicular hallway, it led to a corridor stretching straight onward for a long distance.

“Weird,” Sneasel remarked as she examined the room. “So, uh, you wanna check the room or head out? I dunno where that Spiritomb piece is gonna be hiding.”

“Considering the Aura in here, I bet the ghost is n-nearby...”

I focused my third eye to search for the strongest concentration of negative energy. Something leaped out to me, like a glowing ember shining through the mists around me. It came from one of the windows. As I warned Sneasel, green pinpricks of light began blinking to life in the void, like viridian stars. One of them drifted into the room, passing right through the glass as it floated lazily toward the tatami mat in the center of the room. Sneasel backed away, but she remained on guard, and we both kept our eyes on it. The spark didn’t just glow in visible light—it had a fiery Aura, roiling and full of hate.

Then the tiny star exploded into a roaring pillar of flame. The flash was nearly blinding. Sneasel gasped and raised her claws defensively, and I held up a glowing hand, ready to use Light Screen or Reflect. The fire didn’t lash out at us, though. It swirled and reshaped into a pale purple fireball about as big as Sneasel. Green cinders gathered inside, forming a pair of narrowed eyes and an unnaturally wide and jagged mouth. A deep cackle reverberated from the frightening shape.

There was no doubt about it: this was the Spiritomb shard. There, within that ethereal flame, I sensed the core of all the horrible feelings that had struck me as soon as we entered this place.

Sneasel snarled at it and adopted her usual fighting stance, one arm out front and one raised by her head. “That was fast. Glad you’re showing your ugly mug so early, spook. C’mon, Books, let’s jump him!”

The ghost’s grin stretched even wider. “Overconfident as ever, young Clawfolk,” he said, his voice gruff and guttural. “Have patience for now. Before we come to blows, I would very much like to discuss... you. My fellow spirits and I have been observing you and your comrades for years, during our time buried outside your home. I know your struggles, your fears—and most intriguing of all, your desire to overcome the darkness within, Sneasel. Even now, you must feel it lurking, festering, ready to burst forth at any moment and destroy everything you love. Your curse is a horrible thing, is it not?”

Curse. That single word, spoken in a voice dripping with hate, sent a cold shudder running down my back. Yes, my partner—and all her fellow members of the Stone Tribe of Elderfrost Island—suffered from a so-called “berserker curse”. They believed it was inflicted by the gods after a chieftain angered them, though I considered it more likely to be caused by a genetic anomaly rather than divine punishment. Either way, the fact remained that it was a horrifying affliction.

If a cursed individual overused Dark-type energy, it could overtake their mind and drive them insane. Losing control of their emotions would accelerate the effects, as well. The only way to stave off the corruption was to undergo special training, but my partner never did this before being abruptly warped away from her homeland by a dungeon shift. This left her unable to use her full power safely. We’d tried developing our own regimen, including meditating, mental exercise, and physical training, but it was inferior to the real deal. Although Sneasel could use Dark-type moves to an extent now, she had to limit herself and exercise caution. I’d seen what could happen if she didn’t. I’d watched the curse sink its claws into her, and I hoped I’d never witness it again. To see my partner—the girl I’d been through so much with, the girl I’d grown to love—lose her mind and turn into something so violent and horrible... It was both terrifying and tragic.

Sneasel snarled. Just like me, she had the curse on her mind. And also like me, she hated that the ghost dared to bring it up. “I don’t wanna talk about that,” she said. “And besides, I’ve been making good progress on controlling it, all thanks to my friends. If you wanna use the curse against me, it ain’t gonna work.”

The ghost blazed brighter for a moment. His eyes widened and his mouth grew even more jagged. “Or so you believe. Yes, I’ve long sensed your cloying, obnoxious, idiotic optimism. But it is tarnished with the fear of failure. And that is precisely why I drew you into my corner of this dungeon. I will extinguish your hope and watch you succumb to the curse—and I will laugh as the darkness stabs into your mind and drags you to the abyss!”

“Aw, shut up, edgelord,” Sneasel grumbled.

“Sneasel isn’t a-as weak as you think she is, spirit,” I said. “If you’ve been watching us for so long, y-you must know that’s true. It will be a struggle to make her go berserk—assuming you even succeed at all. And w-why bother? There’s no need for anger or aggression. We’re not your enemy. My partner and I just want to stop this dungeon from corrupting our home. And p-part of that involves... helping you.”

I buzzed my wings and hovered out of the pouch. I forced myself to drift closer to the fiery phantom, holding out a hand as I did. “We know what happened to you and the other ghosts. Being torn away from rest of the Spiritomb must have been t-traumatic. Come with us. We’re trying to gather the spirits so you all can be together again. W-wouldn’t you like that?”

The ghost began to blaze brighter, and his flaming eyes bored deeper into my very being, making my heart and my wings skip a beat. “What do you know of trauma?” he asked coldly. “I do not need to return to my brethren! The only thing I need is prove you wrong! I will show you that the darkness can never be tamed!”

His body swirled into a vortex and swiftly faded from view. I tried keeping track of him by sensing his Aura and emotions, but they melded into the background energy of the dungeon. He was everywhere and nowhere—merged with the foul presence, part of the dungeon itself.

A shudder ran through me as if I’d just been splashed with cold water. That unseen veil around us was twisting and rippling, as if gripped by an invisible hand and pulled to the middle of the room. The dungeon’s energy seemed to pool and form into a viridian will-o-wisp before dropping to the floor and exploding. From the flames rose a Vulpix with a blue bandanna and multiple pouches on its body. Its blankly staring eyes glowed an uncanny green.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dmb7geDDBuE (BGM: Coding - Ender Magnolia)

“A... fake Nick?” Sneasel asked.

The copy of our guildmate snarled and breathed in deeply. Bright embers gathered around its snout, and Sneasel I quickly evaded the incoming fireball. Sneasel formed a shard of ice in her claws and threw it. It was a direct hit—but the feral barely reacted. Its head simply turned to mist and then reformed as the shard flew straight through it. It was like Sneasel had attacked a cloud.

“Is it just an illusion?” she asked.

“I sense its Aura,” I said. “It’s real, but...”

The fake Nick ran at Sneasel, its jaws wide and fangs gleaming. I launched a blast of Fairy Wind at it, but once again, its form only rippled before coming together again. Sneasel planted her feet and used Metal Claw to coat her forearm in steely armor just before the feral latched on to her arm, making her grunt. She cloaked the claws of her free arm in white energy and delivered a strong Slash. Then she tried Metal Claw. I even used Pollen Puff. Ice, Fairy, Normal, Steel, Bug—nothing had any effect. We only had one more type in our arsenal. Did we really have to resort to it?

The feral gnawed on Sneasel’s arm and shook its head like an angry dog. She futilely clawed at it. I knew we had no choice. I gave the order I always hated giving: “Use Night Slash!”

The aura around Sneasel’s claws turned to deep purple as her Dark-type energy coalesced. She swung her claws with speed and ferocity, tearing open a gash in the feral’s side. From the wound poured black smoke, full of pale green and purple embers. The feral let go of Sneasel’s arm and stumbled back. One more slash tore it apart.

Sneasel grunted and clenched her fist, forcing the darkness around her claws to vanish. She took a deep breath and let it out. The ghost’s cackling abruptly echoed around us, though he remained hidden from sight.

“What’s the big idea?” Sneasel asked angrily.

The ghost’s voice replied, “Surely you understand. This is a test! Show me whether your determination can outlast my rage!”

The dungeon’s energy swirled once more. A pair of fireballs sparked to life and transformed into a Makuhita flanked by a Meditite with a blinded eye. They looked exactly like our guildmates in Team Yin-Yang, except sickly green light shined from their eyes.

I launched Fairy Wind at them, and they didn’t even flinch. “Same as Nick... W-we have to use the darkness on them,” I said.

“I got a better idea,” said Sneasel. “On me!”

She dashed toward the exit of the room. After a moment of startled hesitation, I flew after her. It was a good thing she didn’t hate tactical retreats so much anymore. She had the right idea: fleeing a situation like this wasn’t the worst—

Something was coming. “Behind us!” I yelled.

The shelves, books, weights, dummies—every single object in the room was surrounded in ghostly energy and flying right at us. We dove aside, and the swarm of items crashed down and piled up in the doorway. The path was blocked.

The poltergeist’s loathsome laughter shook the room. Sneasel snarled at a random point in the air, hoping she was aiming at him. “Laugh it up,” she said. “You won’t be so smug when I get my claws on you!”

“N-no choice...” I muttered, watching the two ferals approach us. They were splitting up and approaching us from either side in a pincer move. “O-okay, listen: freeze the floor beneath Makuhita. I’ll cover Asana. Beat him first, then her.”

“Gotcha,” said Sneasel.

Both ferals approached Sneasel, but I got in the way of the fake Asana and hit it with Fairy Wind. It allowed the useless attack to rustle it, then threw a punch at me, which I blocked by using Reflect and summoning a barrier of pale energy. Meanwhile, Sneasel used Icy Wind on the floor under the false Makuhita, causing it to slip. Before it could rise, she pounced and used Night Slash again. As the feral’s prodigious belly burst into a cloud of fiery smoke, I continued fluttering around and dodging punches from the Meditite—up until Sneasel rushed over and stabbed it in the back. As it fell apart, Sneasel dismissed the darkness around her claws and breathed deep once again.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k3mhU2XEOOs (BGM: Midna’s Theme - The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess)

“Nicely done,” I said.

“Alright, who’s next?” Sneasel asked.

“I feel the dungeon’s energy shifting again,” I said, shutting my eyes and focusing. “B-but it’s not concentrated enough to ignite yet. Maybe the ghost has to take a minute to spawn a new enemy.”

“At least we get some breathers here and there... But this is gonna suck.” Sneasel’s voice was dull, her ear had lowered and swiveled out to the side, and her tail feathers were drooping. “These things can only be taken out by the darkness. Never seen enemies like that before. How’s he doing that?”

“I don’t know. But Heidi’s spirit said the ghosts had fused with the dungeon, and they can create ch-challenges based on what we fear. I guess because he’s a part of this place, he’s somehow able to m-modify the ferals.”

Sneasel growled. “That’s just great. I mean, at least they ain’t totally invincible. Guess he ain’t strong enough to make an enemy like that. But how many of these messed-up ferals is he gonna throw at us?”

Who could say? The upcoming gauntlet felt like a towering rock wall. Insurmountable, perhaps. Sneasel could manage using the darkness to an extent, but despite all her strength and grit, she couldn’t fight against the curse forever. And the ghost seemed to understand that just as well as we did.

Sneasel could see the looming wall too. She bit her lip and looked over her claws. In the light of the lanterns, they gleamed pure white, unstained by the darkness we both hated to see. But we had only one route forward: accept the darkness and use it to stand and fight. Was this even possible?

It wasn’t worth questioning. Only one answer was acceptable.

“Th-there is one piece of good news,” I said at last. “Every time he spawns a feral, h-his energy is diminishing just a little—I felt it happen both times already. That’s the key. You just have to outlast him. A-and I know you can! Just remember what you’ve learned from everyone. KFC, Bill, me... And never forget: n-no matter how many enemies we face, I’ll do everything I can to support you.”

Without even noticing, I’d hovered closer and placed a gentle hand on Sneasel’s furry cheek. She gave a small start when I touched her, but then she sighed and touched my hand with a single claw, giving me a weak yet warm smile. “Thanks, Books,” she said softly. “I dunno what I’d do without you. And you’re right. I got this. We got this.”

A retching sound filled the air. “You sicken me,” the unseen ghost said. “How can you both be so hopeful when you have no future? The curse has doomed you! You’ll never leave here alive!”

“Quit blabbering and let’s fight!” said Sneasel. “If you think you’re so tough, let’s see what you got!”

“As you wish,” he said.

I flinched as a new fireball burst to life in the middle of the room. It rocketed right at us, forcing us to dodge. As it hit the floor and prepared to morph into the next fake guildmate, the ghost’s voice boomed around us once more:

“Let the gauntlet begin!”

* * *

Chapter 2: Devil Trigger

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZFLfjAvwSg (BGM: Intruder Alert (Combat) - Nine Sols)

The false dojo became our battlefield. The ghost remained hidden away as he sent his summoned minions after us. They were all mindless and soulless replicas of our fellow guild members, recreated in precise detail aside from their eyes of green flame. They confronted us one or two at a time, and attacked in the instinctive and animalistic manner that many dungeon ferals used, rather than the more refined and strategic fighting styles of intelligent Pokemon. This made them relatively easy to slay. Still, the enemies just kept coming, and each one required Night Slash to defeat.

Not to mention, it was chilling to see Sneasel slaughter all these perfect copies of our friends and coworkers. I knew they were mere fakes, but this violence was like a glimpse into a dark future where Sneasel truly lost control. Did she realize this too? Did the ghost? Could he sense my fear, and was he laughing at us from beyond the veil? Perhaps, but I couldn’t afford to be distracted or intimidated. That was just what the ghost wanted. And in a gauntlet like this, we had to stay at peak performance.

This was the most protracted battle we’d ever been in, and strength wouldn’t be enough to survive—that much was obvious from the start. We would need to fight intelligently. To that end, I readily took a leader/support role as I had done countless times before. We began each encounter by testing our foes with a weak attack, confirming that the ghost was still forcing us to use the hated darkness. Then, as each battle progressed, I used my Aura abilities to predict their upcoming moves and tell my partner when to strike or fall back. With my help, she used the bare minimum of darkness to defeat them, only unleashing it for a moment at a time to deal critical strikes.

We made use of each break between battles, not unlike a boxer returning to his corner between rounds. It would have been ideal if Sneasel could use these chances to meditate, as that was easily the most effective way for her to suppress the effects of the curse, but we had no time for that. Instead, Sneasel rested and tended to her wounds while I offered encouragement and advice to her. We occasionally bantered and joked to lighten the mood, but for the most part, I guided her through breathing exercises and various grounding techniques so she could refocus and avoid thinking about the curse. For instance, I had her form Ice Shards and hold them against the nape of her neck, which affected a nerve to calm her down (at the cost of making her scarf damp). I also told her to focus on mundane things like the sensation of the wooden floor beneath her feet, or scan her surroundings and describe what she saw in detail, or pace and stretch. These things would keep her mind off the curse, helping her resist it better. And whenever I sensed the next enemy incoming, I told Sneasel to prepare for battle, while asking her to rate her stress level so I could track her progress. With a combination of my support and her own strength, she was able to hang on.

Of course, we always wished the breaks lasted longer. And although we fought as surgically as we could, the sheer number of fights was taking a toll on us both. We had to ration our supply of Oran Berries, Elixirs, and Pollen Puffs because we had no idea how long this gauntlet would last. Sneasel conserved her energy by following my advice and only attacking when I told her to, and my Reflect, Light Screen, and Safeguard gave her some extra protection; despite this, she got hit on occasion, and using all these moves was exhausting for me (especially whenever a strong enemy was able to break through my shields, which triggered a psychic backlash that stunned me for a bit). We had some Reviver Seeds that could give us a second chance, but I certainly didn’t want to rely on them. And we couldn’t use our other items (such as seeds, orbs, and wands) against these modified ferals. Dark-type moves were the only valid weapon.

Just as I feared, that was our biggest obstacle. Sneasel started out confident despite her concerns, and fought with great skill as always, but as the ghost forced her to use the darkness over and over and over again, she began slipping. She was slowly but surely breathing heavier, fighting sloppier, and growing more irritable. Her jokes decreased in number and then disappeared completely. When I gave her advice in battle, asked how she felt, or suggested a way to destress, she increasingly reacted by grumbling or snapping at me with an annoyed remark. And as I watched her slowly degrade, my worry grew and my encouraging words became ever shakier.

Nonetheless, I kept guiding her to the best of my ability, and she did follow all my directions in spite of her sour mood. I had no intention of giving up. If I showed any weakness, it would only drag my partner down. And she was suffering more than me. She was the one doing the fighting, while I was just her coach. I had to be strong for her. I had to defend her from the danger welling up within her. If I couldn’t do that, I’d fail as her partner.

* * *

After completing our 15th round, I asked her to sit and take another breather.

“Do we have to?” she asked. “I ain’t in the mood to calm down. I just wanna keep fighting and get this over with. Gimme the next enemy, spook!”

“N-not yet, please,” I said. “You’ll fight better if you take a break.”

As expected, she groaned, but sat down heavily nonetheless.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“How do you think I’m feeling?” she replied sharply. “This sucks. Everything sucks. I hate that stupid ghost.”

“I know, b-but you’re hanging in there, and I’m proud of you. Now, focus on me, please. F-forget everything else. We’re going to try that 4-7-8 exercise again, okay?”

“Fine,” she mumbled.

“Now... sit upright. Put your tongue against the back of your top teeth. Breathe out. All the way... Th-there you go. Now breathe in through the nose f-for four seconds...”

I counted to four aloud as she drew in a shaky breath.

“Hold it...”

I counted to seven. She shut her eyes up tight, but kept a mostly stoic face.

“Good, n-now out through the mouth. Eight seconds.”

I counted to eight. She slowly let out her breath. She kept her eyes shut. We waited briefly, then I said, “Perfect. Let’s do it again, okay?”

I had her repeat the process a few more times, sensing her grow calmer with each one. It went well until the ghost suddenly interrupted us partway through one repetition. He had stayed silent for the entire gauntlet, so it came as a shock to us both. I gasped as his voice rang out, and Sneasel coughed and let out the breath she was holding in.

“None of this will work,” the ghost said. “I know the truth, and deep within your minds, you do as well. You cannot succeed without using the methods of your people, Sneasel.”

“Our method’s good enough,” Sneasel replied. She was looking around the room, glaring every which way as our nemesis remained hidden from view.

“Far from it. Nothing you can do will save you. Your tiny partner will fail, and so will you. You cannot stand against me, for I am as mighty in death as I was in life, while you are just a fool. A fool without a name!”

Sneasel gasped. Then her face slowly contorted into a look of rage. The ghost laughed, and that only made her snarl more fiercely.

Sneasel’s name... It was an extremely touchy subject, and I was disgusted that the ghost would target it.

Sneasel had told me how names worked the Stone Tribe. All young Sneasel were granted a “youth name” early in their life, and they used it until they came of age and underwent certain rites of passage. If they proved that they possessed the strength, skill, and courage to be a productive member of the tribe, they would receive a new “true name”.

However, despite the fact that Sneasel was an adult, she had never successfully completed her trials. Making matters worse, she was warped away from her homeland before she could try again—much like how she was denied her opportunity to complete her curse training. As a result, she still had her youth name to this day, which had always been a source of deep shame. This was the real reason why she always went by her species name.

She had only told the truth to one person outside the tribe: me. She’d explained her situation to me, and even revealed her youth name, as proof of our bond and her absolute trust in me. Of course, she only did this after sternly making me vow to never utter her name around anyone else—and I intended to keep that promise forever, to the point where I even refused to write it down or mention the concept to anyone.

However, the ghost knew the truth as well, due to his ability to read Sneasel’s emotions and fears. And he was about to get exactly the response he wanted.

I flew to Sneasel’s face and put my hands on her snout. “Wait! D-don’t let him trick you,” I said.

“He’s crossing a line,” she snapped in a dark voice. She wasn’t even looking at me; her eyes were still darting around the room, and her ear stood right up. She was desperately searching for any sign of the ghost so she knew where to aim her fiercest attack. “You know how I always got bullied cuz of my name! Never got any respect, always got left out and made fun of... Everyone my age got a name already, but I never got one cuz I kept screwing up, and now I ain’t ever gonna get a name cuz I’m never gonna find Elderfrost again!”

“Precisely,” said the ghost. “Even if you found your home again, a weak fool like you would never earn—”

She leaped to her feet and let out a bestial snarl. The sudden motion knocked me away, and the vicious noise startled me. I hesitated before darting up to her face again. “Sneasel, please! I-it’s not worth getting angry over! He wants you to lose control, remember? It’s all part of his trick! Don’t fall for it! I know you’re strong enough to resist!”

Sneasel finally looked at me. Was it just me, or were her eyes beginning to glow? If so, the light dimmed quickly. She let out a sigh that sent my waist cape fluttering, and she looked away sheepishly.

“Sorry,” she said. “You’re right. I shouldn’t listen to a word that bastard spits out. He’s just gonna hurt me. Still stings, but I won’t let it get to me. Promise.”

“Th-thank you,” I said. “You really are strong. Y-you can overcome anything he throws at us.”

“On that note: dodge!” Sneasel shouted.

She dove one way and I went the other. I’d been so focused on her, scanning her emotions for any sign of trouble, that I failed to notice the ghost attacking us until Sneasel warned me. A green fireball flew between the two of us, right where we’d been a moment before. It reshaped itself into a new foe, and we prepared for battle once more.

Sneasel glanced my way and winked, giving me the sort of confident smirk that I’d seen on her a million times. And yet, this time, her lips quivered with anxiety.

* * *

Some time later, I flinched and covered my eyes as Sneasel tore apart a replica of Macom the Mareep cartographer, one of the guild members I was closest to. After I heard the piercing death screams of the feral fade away, I took a deep breath and looked at the room again. The feral was gone, and Sneasel was now feuding with the Dark-type energy that flared up like an untamed deep purple flame around her paws. She was taking longer and longer to dismiss the remaining energy each time she used Night Slash. For a moment, I even thought this would be the time she failed. She squeezed her fists tightly, digging her claws into her palms almost enough to draw blood.

“You can do it,” I said. “Remember, i-it’s just like you’re closing a box. Seal it away. D-don’t let it fight back. Steady...”

I let out a big sigh of relief when the energy finally petered out. I shouldn’t have doubted her. She was undeniably much better at using the darkness compared to when she started training. At first, a single Night Slash was enough to make her nearly go insane. Seeing the fruits of her effort paying off was enough to warm my heart. But it wasn’t enough to defeat the chill of knowing that we still had so far to go.

“You just passed your Night Slash record, by the way,” I remarked. “That was number 24. I’ve been keeping track.”

She grumbled and dug an Elixir out of her pouch. She chugged it greedily, not caring that some ran down her chin. “Y’know, normally I love beating my records,” she said. “But not like this. I don’t feel so good.”

“I understand. But... if you focus on the positives, like the p-progress you’re making, it’ll keep you motivated.”

“I guess. If nothing else, at least the fights go pretty quick.” She tossed the Elixir bottle over her shoulder and raised her claws, flexing them and motioning like she was grabbing and twisting. “These things are so weak. Worthless trash. Once I get my claws on those ferals, all I gotta do is stab and tear a-and...”

Purple sparks flew around her claws. We both gasped, and she quickly shook her paws to dispel the rogue energy.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“G-good job suppressing it!” I said. “That was quick.”

“But it shouldn’t’ve happened in the first place,” she said, glaring at her claws. “I feel like I’m losing it. Never enough of a break between fights. I really gotta meditate, clear my head. I feel that anger coming up inside me. Like a fire. I dunno how much longer I can push it down. Really wish we could just break down that stupid pile of junk and get on outta here.”

I nodded grimly and looked over at the sole exit from the room. One of the first things we’d tried doing was clearing the path that the ghost had blocked. There was more than enough space for my tiny frame to pass through the blockage, but Sneasel certainly couldn’t fit. Unfortunately (and obnoxiously), whenever she attempted to move the items out of the way, the ghost simply took hold of them and replaced them. Not to mention, before long, she always had to step away to deal with the next incoming feral. And I was totally incapable of helping. I was strong for my size, like all insects, but my strength was meager against this obstacle. I could only move the lightest few things from that pile, like the smallest of the stone weights or books.

We turned away from the pile as a new fireball sprang to life across the room. Sneasel grunted and raised her claws as the next foe spawned in: a tall Hisuian Typhlosion with droopy bandaged ears and glowing green eyes.

“Ikarus,” I muttered. I prepared to launch Fairy Wind at it to test its response, but Sneasel rushed past me. Shadowy flames trailed from her arms, and her claws were alight with dark energy.

“W-wait!” I yelled. “Sneasel!”

Her only reply was a bestial roar that sounded like a big cat descending on its prey. The fake Ikarus launched a blast of purple flames, and I quickly summoned a Light Screen between my partner and the feral to intercept the attack. I dropped the barrier as Sneasel charged onward and leaped high, bringing her claws down in a big slash that sliced open the enemy’s head. The fake Ikarus groaned and fell to all fours, and Sneasel kicked it in the face, knocking it onto its back. It spat flames at her, but she swiped them away with Night Slash and lunged, driving her darkened claws deep into the monster’s chest. It roared in pain, and she grinned and yanked her claws out. She stomped on its head repeatedly as it faded away like the other ferals.

My stomach turned as I watched the display. I knew she hated the Typhlosion alchemist, particularly after he unintentionally poisoned me, but this went far beyond her normal behavior toward him.

“Sneasel, please!” I shouted. “That’s too much! D-don’t go overboard!”

Her head snapped toward me. Her eyes glared at me with slit pupils and red irises that literally glowed with fury, and her mouth was twisted into a fierce snarl with gleaming fangs. It lasted only a moment before Sneasel caught herself and looked away, but that brief glimpse at her corrupted visage was enough to freeze my blood and stop my heart.

“S-sorry,” she said, almost too quiet for me to hear. Her ear and tail feathers drooped. “I’m... I’m real sorry, Books, I... I dunno what came over me...”

I was about to soothe her, but the invisible ghost made us both jolt by delivering yet another taunt. “You know exactly what happened,” he said. “You are finally accepting the truth. The darkness will never stop until you are consumed. It is inevitable.”

I darted in front of Sneasel and clasped my hands. “D-don’t listen to him!” I said to her. “Nothing is inevitable. You can fight this. Think about me and the guild. You don’t want to lose us, do you?”

“Of course not,” Sneasel said.

“Then stay strong. Stay with me. We’ll get through—”

“Enough!” the ghost roared. “Witness your future!”

A wooden dummy shook itself loose from the pile of junk blocking the hallway. Controlled by the ghost, it tumbled through the air and landed in the middle of the room, then burst into green flames and began to melt and reshape itself. I grimaced as it took on the shape of my partner, but silently screaming, her whole body twisting in agony. The sculpture morphed repeatedly, showing multiple poses of the same tortured Sneasel, until finally settling on something different. The wooden Sneasel was now on her knees, her eyes fixed in a crazed and unfocused stare. Some messy splotches of what seemed like paint, colored blue-green, were staining her mouth. In her claws was a small misshapen lump, which began to leak a strange liquid of the same hue as the paint around the statue’s mouth.

I stared. I’d seen that color before. It was just like the hemolymph that flowed through my insect body in place of blood. It was then that I realized what the statue was holding: the mangled corpse of a Ribombee.

I gasped and covered my mouth. Sneasel only took a few moments longer than me to decipher the image. Her response was a grimace and a low growl.

“This is your fate!” the ghost laughed as two more flames flew at us, ready to turn into our next set of foes. “Agony! Betrayal! Death! The cracks are showing, and whether you accept it or not, the truth will remain: I was right!”

* * *

We battled faker after faker as the ghost’s most recent taunt lingered in my mind. I didn’t want to believe him, but the danger kept coming and the darkness kept growing, and we were close to drowning in it.

Sneasel grew more unstable with each passing battle. Her eyes gleamed crimson in combat, and the dark energy around her claws rippled intensely like uncontrolled flames. She shook with anticipation when holding back, only to erupt in a burst of malicious energy whenever she attacked. She was going rogue and ignoring many of my orders, and she fought with so much brutality that I could barely stand to watch her. I continued offering advice and trying to guide her through grounding and calming exercises, but she often refused to cooperate. She barely spoke to me anymore, and instead preferred to shoot me quick dirty looks or snarls.

Regardless, I didn’t give up on her. I tried every trick I knew, and even started using methods I’d only heard about and never tried in person. At one point, I got desperate enough to try taking her through math problems so she could focus her mind on something new. As expected, due to her hatred of math, the strategy just made her mad. Perhaps I shouldn’t have bothered... I shook my head. No—there was no sense in giving up. The only thing to do was keep fighting and resist the ghost’s game with all our might.

Still, it was agonizing to see my partner in such pain. She was wracked with shudders, and she snarled after each battle as she forced the dark mist on her arms to recede. Tenacious patches of pale frost gathered on her red feathers, and she sometimes clutched her head or hugged herself, messing up her already-scruffy fur even more.

Worst of all was her Aura. No longer was it the strong and soothing red flame that I’d learned to take comfort in. It was more like a frantic electric storm, deformed and spasming erratically. And deep inside was a black hole that grew somehow darker and larger with each battle, steadily devouring her very life.

It struck my heart with icy fear, but I kept it to myself as best I could. I donned the bravest face possible for Sneasel. I wasn’t sure if she noticed the truth that hid beneath it. I hoped she didn’t.

* * *

Another feral fell, and it was time for yet another feeble attempt to save my partner from her curse. I managed to make her sit down, but she refused to follow along with the classic 4-7-8 breathing exercise this time. I gently and repeatedly encouraged her to try it. She silently glared at me, and her claws twitched. For a split second, her dark-infected Aura shifted as if she were readying an attack. My wings beat quicker, but Sneasel didn’t move. She just watched me. I felt like a mouse being eyed by a cat. She finally broke eye contact by grabbing her head and moaning.

“Sneasel, it’s okay!” I said. With only a moment’s hesitation, I flew closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at my touch, but that was all. “You’ll be alright. I-I’m here for you. I know it’s hard, but you’re doing such an amazing—”

I yelped as the room flashed a vibrant green. Another ghostly flame appeared and morphed into a copy of Mustel the Zangoose. Strangely, there was no sign of his massive partner, Serpes the Seviper. Up until now, the ghost had always summoned teammates as a duo. Why did he only summon one enemy? Was he finally running out of energy? The encompassing veil of unseen energy was definitely thinner than when we began, and the ghost was noticeably taking longer and longer to summon each enemy. Could it be? Were we actually going the distance? That possibility reignited a spark of hope inside me. I didn’t know how much energy the ghost had left, but for the first time since the gauntlet began, I genuinely believed we stood a chance. We just had to hold on a bit longer.

I wanted to say all this to Sneasel, and share some of the hope I’d found. But as soon as she saw the enemy spawn in fully, she leaped to her feet and charged at it. I was tossed aside due to her sudden movement, and I spun in midair to keep an eye on her. She was snarling like a wild beast, and dark energy was already wreathing her claws.

“Sneasel, c-careful!” I yelled. “P-please listen to me!”

I shouted advice, trying to tell her how to fight more effectively and tactically. She ignored me entirely. She pounced on the Zangoose and began lashing out with rapid, vicious strikes. The fake Mustel wreathed its claws in a similar-looking kind of purple energy—Shadow Claw, mostly likely—and parried each hit.

Muttering in frustration, I held up my hands and used Reflect, creating an ethereal shield to protect Sneasel from the enemy’s claws. The feral’s attacks rebounded off the wall of light, and as it stumbled, Sneasel pressed the advantage. Her claws blurred as she attacked the Zangoose from every angle, cutting it open repeatedly and spreading a dark mist that clouded the combatants. Their bright eyes of red and green shone through, along with the energy wreathing their paws. Vicious snarls and roars erupted as their claws flew, tearing through the air and each other’s bodies alike.

I could hardly keep track of the fight. But in a few seconds, it didn’t matter. The Zangoose was torn to pieces, and Sneasel, bearing multiple new cuts all over her body, stood above the mutilated corpse as its smoking head rolled away. The Zangoose faded into smoke and embers, and Sneasel leaned back and unleashed a startling roar, like a predator announcing its kill. Then her arms dropped and hung limp, and she collapsed to her knees. Her paws were still coated in dark flame as she let out a loud groan, slumped forward, and clutched her head tightly. I could see her entire body heaving violently as she breathed deeply and unsteadily. Odd growls and snarls drifted from her, mingled with what may have been half-formed words.

I kept my distance at first. With this much instability in her mind, I believed it best to stay away until she calmed herself. But as the moaning and shaking persisted, my heartache grew more intense, and its burning pain outweighed my fear—and perhaps my common sense as well.

And so I flew to her. Her ear twitched as my buzzing wings drew near, and she slowly pushed herself up without looking back at me.

“Sneasel, you did it,” I said. “N-now let’s take a n-nice little break, and... um...”

My next words died in my throat. My third eye was screaming at me, telling me... No, that couldn’t be true. Was Sneasel really about to—

She staggered to her feet and wheeled around. Her lips were pulled back, showing her full set of brutally sharp fangs. Her eyes were wide open, pupils narrowed into tiny slits, boring into my soul and yet not focusing on anything at all. They were the eyes of madness.

I darted backward. Sneasel lunged forward. She closed the distance between us instantly. Her darkened claws sliced savagely through the air. And me.

* * *

Chapter 3: Heartache

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcGpWMJolvU (BGM: Helplessness (Outro) - Ender Lilies)

I screamed. Hot pain lanced throughout my whole body. I plummeted to the floor and bounced once. Hemolymph leaked and stained my yellow fur as I lay on my back and clutched my midsection.

Gasping for breath, I tucked my chin into my scarf and saw Sneasel a short distance away, rigid as a statue. The tips of her claws were tainted with my hemolymph, faintly visible through the layer of purple energy. Her once-snarling mouth was hanging open, her ear was pressed against her head, and her wide and glowing eyes were tearing up.

She tried to talk. Only a strangled growl came out. Her eyes overflowed, and tears ran down her furry cheeks.

I glanced down at myself. I expected the worst. There was the gash, long and bloody, stretching diagonally across my entire torso. My hand only covered part of it. However, it was much less gruesome than I thought it would be. Thanks to my sixth sense, I’d darted back just in time to only be grazed by her Night Slash, and a combination of my exoskeleton and my internal Fairy-type energy further reduced the damage. Regardless, pain coursed through me with every heartbeat.

“I’ll b-be okay,” I said, grimacing. “I-it’s n-not too deep...”

I opened one of my belt pouches with my bloodied hands and took out a leaf-wrapped piece of Oran Berry. I ate it to numb my pain and accelerate healing. All the while, Sneasel remained motionless, tears rolling down her face.

“B... Book...” she growled, her voice broken and rough, like a feral beast trying to enunciate words. “S-s... so-rry... so... sorrry...”

“D-don’t worry!” I said. “It’s alright. I-it was a mistake...”

The entire room shook like an earthquake. The lanterns dimmed, and green embers sparked to life in midair like mockeries of fireflies, and the ghost roared, “At last! You fell! Just as I knew you would! You struck down your own partner! Your bond means nothing in the face of the curse!”

Sickening laughter echoed around us. I tried to stand up, but the pain forced me back down.

“N-no!” I said. “She just slipped for a second!”

“Fool! Does she look like she is in control? Young Clawfolk, you have lost. You are truly a monster now, a nameless and vile beast fit only for death. Your deepest fears have come true!”

I tried once again to push myself up. I cried out from the pain, but I persisted. Pressing my own cloak over my wound to staunch the bleeding, I stood despite the fierce wobbling of my legs. I looked straight at my partner and said, “Don’t listen to him. P-please don’t.”

I couldn’t tell if my words reached her. A wall of raging emotion was surrounding her heart like a storm. Her mind was awash with freezing horror at what she had done to me, combined with burning rage toward the insidious spirit that forced us down this path. And beneath it all, the sea of darkness grew in her soul.

The combination was too much for her.

She choked. Her legs shook. She collapsed to her hands and knees. As she turned her watery eyes toward me, she finally managed to force out a single scratchy word.

“Run.”

Then a horrible sensation erupted from her. Like a physical force, it crashed into me and knocked me back. Her Aura was finally subsumed and broken as the black hole’s tentacles wrapped around her core. The darkness spread throughout her whole body and snuffed out her inner light.

A strangled cry of “No!” escaped from me. The laughter of the ghost drowned it out.

Sneasel changed. Ice crackled as it grew long and misshapen on her red feathers. Frosty mist drifted from her mouth with each rapid, shuddering breath. Her silently sobbing eyes flared like torches with an overflow of crimson power. Her gold gems were dull and tarnished, all trace of their beautiful glimmer now devoured by darkness. Her scarf rustled as if buffeted by an unseen wind, and the same storm made deep purple smoke swirl around her. It coated her in a foul aura and blackened her fur, and the excess mist writhed on her back like a vile cape. The energy around her claws grew into a set of blazing, sparking, purple energy blades that dug into the dojo floor.

It was over. The curse had taken hold. Sneasel had gone berserk.

A wretched call tore its way out of her, sounding like a roar, a howl, a pained sob, and more all at once. It was a sound I had never heard before, and never wanted to hear again.

As I sat paralyzed, Sneasel’s eyes stared at me, devoid of recognition. She crouched low and pounced. Survival instinct took over, and for the first time in my life, I fled from my partner in fear.

I let off a blast of Fairy Wind and rocketed up and back, evading the four massive energy blades sweeping at me. A second gust of sparkling wind shot me backward. It blew against Sneasel, and the dark aura surrounding her was pushed away slightly. Her eyes widened and her feral snarl seemed to diminish. It only lasted a second before the darkness collapsed and took hold again, blinding her with rage.

I nimbly flew through a gap in the pile of junk blocking the exit. A long corridor lay ahead. Behind me, Sneasel viciously tore apart the blockage and pursued me. No thoughts were in my mind except the overwhelming desire to flee. Carried onward by pure fear, I zipped through the dungeon halls, reaching out with my sixth sense to track Sneasel without looking back. She was close behind me at first, but as I carried on, she seemingly took a wrong turn and grew more distant. She’d lost my trail. I was safe.

...Safe? From my own partner? From the girl I loved? This was wrong. All wrong. I should have supported her better. I’d promised to stand with her and do everything I could to help her fight the darkness, but I failed. If only I’d been a better partner, she wouldn’t have fallen. We would have beaten the gauntlet. None of this would have happened.

Hot tears welled up in my eyes and ran down my face. I clutched my wound, fell to the ground, and let the sobs overtake me. All around, the ghost’s laughter hung heavily in the stagnant air.

* * *

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6MIbXyqRnk (BGM: Dark Torvus Bog - Metroid Prime 2: Echoes)

I lay there for a long, long while. Shock, horror, and guilt were weighing down on my tiny body like a thousand pounds, and it was impossible to move. Then a roar echoed from somewhere far away. I gasped and looked around frantically. No sign of her. I reached out with my mind. She was slowly but steadily approaching me. She could probably pick up my scent. I had to move. If I didn’t, she would catch up to me, and I would meet my end. I couldn’t die here. I didn’t want my last view of Sneasel to be of her corrupted visage. And so, I forced my legs and wings to work again, and I wandered the dead halls aimlessly.

The sole mercy of this entire ordeal was that the berserker rage was temporary. If Sneasel wore herself out, she would return to normal. And in this labyrinth, it was easy enough for me to keep my distance from her. All I had to do was wait it out. I knew she would return to normal with time. It would be okay.

Then why couldn’t I stop shaking?

I knew why, of course. Theoretically, there was a solution, but the fact remained that she had suffered so much already. Not to mention, the ghost still lurked somewhere in the shadows, and he had energy to spare. As soon as Sneasel returned to normal, he could easily resume the gauntlet. And when he did, we would stand no chance. What could we do against such determined rage and violence?

I thought deeply about that as I wandered the odd dungeon. It was enormous and seemed to consist of only one floor, and each room was a replica of one from the guildhall—the mess hall, the lobby, the mail room, a variety of dorms, and more—all recreated in precise detail based on my and Sneasel’s memories. However, the entire dungeon was dim and deserted, with no ferals anywhere, and windows that showed only the pure blackness of the void. I was alone in the maze, save for a vengeful ghost and my corrupted partner.

I was lucky enough to find a copy of the clinic early on, and I gathered some supplies to treat the wound on my torso with my basic medical knowledge. The Oran Berry had done a good job of dulling the pain and reducing the bleeding, but I still wanted to get more medicine and cover up the cut. Out of sight, but not out of mind. I tried not to think about that injury too much. Sneasel had hurt me by accident before—it was inevitable considering her sharp claws and our vast size difference—but this was the first time she had lashed out and attacked me directly. I shook as her feral face and fierce claws crept into my mind again.

I shuddered once more as I felt the disgustingly familiar presence of the ghost. Slowly and languidly, his purple and green form faded into view. To my surprise, his fireball body was significantly smaller than he had initially been. Rather than being the size of Sneasel, he had diminished to only two or three times my size. Had he really lost that much strength since the gauntlet began?

The ghost floated down to the desk. His jagged viridian mouth was smiling cruelly, but not as widely as it once did. “I feel it,” he said quietly. “Your sadness. Your regret. Your hopelessness. It is just as I told you: the curse is indomitable.”

I gulped. “W-we held on so long,” I said. “It was so hard, b-but she did so well. I’m still proud of her, n-no matter what.”

“But would she be proud of you? You were supposed to keep her safe. You swore it to each other, did you not? And in the end, you failed her.”

The words stung me, and made me hang my head in shame. I couldn’t disagree at all. She could have succeeded if I did a better job. This was my fault.

“I t-tried my best,” I said. “A-and I know I was too weak. But there’s still hope! She can come back, and th-then we’ll work even harder to do better in the future. We can learn from—”

“You have no future!” the ghost suddenly roared, making me stumble back and nearly fall off the desk. “You and her both! All because of her curse and your weakness! You failed to protect her! How could you do that to her? What kind of monster dooms his own partner to destruction and misery?”

He was flickering and emitting ragged, echoey breaths after his outburst. I sensed so much rage emitting from him, like heat from a blaze. The realization struck me that if he summoned another feral, I’d be unable to even damage it. And if the ghost attacked me directly, I doubted I could defeat him, even in his weakened state. If he wished, he could give in to his anger and kill me right here. I had to tread carefully, and convince him to stand down or leave me alone.

Despite the anxiety welling up, one thing clung to my mind like a bur. Deep inside the flaming anger of the ghost, buried and secret, was a cold heart. Something was wrong with him. Could that be the key to talking him down? The only way to know was to draw it into the open.

I braced myself and murmured, “You feel... sad. C-could you tell me why?”

The ghost’s green eyes went wide, as if I’d just struck him in the face. “Sad? What are you talking about?”

“You’re not the only one who can sense things. I-I’m a Ribombee. I can feel your emotions. At first, all I saw was burning anger, b-but now I can tell you’re hiding something. Earlier, you said you hate us because we annoy you with our optimism, and you disagree with our hope that the curse can be beaten—”

“Correct.”

“O-okay, but that’s not all, is it? You’re causing us so much pain—putting Sneasel through so much agony...” I was forced to take a deep shuddery breath and collect myself before continuing. “You’re being so h-horrible, and I can’t accept that you’ve told the whole truth. There must be something more—some other reason to do this to us, besides simple anger. And whatever that reason is, it makes you... sad. Why?”

“Why do you care?” the ghost snapped. “As you said, I have made you suffer. Why care about the one who torments you and your partner? Are you prioritizing my wellbeing over hers?”

“O-of course not. I care about her more than anything.”

“Then why spare any thought for me? I hate you, and you should hate me as well.”

“Should I? Remember what I told you when we first met: part of our mission in this dungeon is to help you. If you’re hurting us because of some sort of... past trauma, then we should talk it over. It would benefit all of us. You’d stop hurting me and Sneasel, and y-you’d also end your own pain. I’m willing to help, and I’m willing to put this behind us, but you have to stop the aggression and t-talk with me.”

The ghost resumed his silent staring. Only after a long pause did he respond. “This makes no sense. I torture you, and you show me pity and mercy? I do not need it or deserve it, so stop acting this way, tiny fool!”

“You don’t deserve...?” I murmured. Thinking back to the ghost’s outburst, a new idea crept into my head. “Wait, what did you say earlier? Y-you said I failed to protect my partner, and I was a horrible person for dooming her. But why did that trigger sadness in you? D-did the same thing happen to you before? Did you lose someone special?”

Another long pause, full of silent turmoil within the ghost. I grew worried that I’d crossed a line, but I simultaneously hoped I’d said the right thing to unlock the barriers in the ghost’s mind. It was obvious now that he didn’t hate me and my partner out of pure evil. His actions were vile, true, but they were driven by some sort of deep-seated agony. And if I could just find a way to help him, we could move past this and into the light again. But it all depended on whether he opened up.

At last, the ghost turned side to side, like he was shaking his head. “I refuse to answer you,” the ghost said. “And I refuse your pity. You cannot dissuade me. I have caused too much damage and come too far to stop. The only way I can find peace now is to destroy you both.”

“No, th-that’s not—”

The ghost interrupted me, saying, “I give you an ultimatum! I feel your partner’s energy draining, and she will soon slip out of her berserk state. When that happens, she will be defenseless, and I intend to kill her.”

Sparkling wind swirled around my hands, without me willing it to do so. “D-don’t you dare,” I stammered, sounding much less intimidating than I hoped.

“If you let her die in this way,” he continued unabated, “I swear to the gods that I will leave you alone and release you from this dungeon. Alternatively, if you wish for me to spare her, simply throw yourself at her and allow her to slay you. Do this, and I will release her and cause her no further trouble.”

My eyes went wide and my heart turned to ice. This was the ultimatum? It was unacceptable! Either way, one of us would die and the other would suffer. I couldn’t allow Sneasel to die—that was nonnegotiable. But sacrificing myself by allowing her to kill me... That was too horrible to even think about. Besides, when she learned what happened, she would be utterly ruined.

My throat felt tight. I tugged at my cloak’s collar buried beneath my scarf. “Th-there’s no reason for this cruelty,” I said. “Please, just talk to me. You’ve seen how I help my partner. I can do the same for you!”

“I am beyond saving,” said the ghost. “You cannot bring me peace. The only thing that can ease my suffering is to spread it to others. This discussion is over.”

“Stop, please!” I yelled.

It was useless. The ghost vanished in a flash of sickly light, and I was alone in the silent clinic once more.

* * *

Chapter 4: Memories of Memories

I didn’t have much time to sit and ponder my meeting with the spirit. I sensed Sneasel nearby. She’d drawn quite close while I was distracted. I took flight and sped through the air, putting distance between myself and her. Her angry roaring faded away, lost in the darkness and winding corridors.

“Sorry to leave you,” I said into the shadows. “I’ll find a way to save you. I promise.”

Once I was safe again, I slowed down and let my mind drift back to the ghost. Part of me wanted to continue hating him for the horrific things he had done, but after what I learned in our brief talk, I knew there was a miserable storm under his wrathful exterior. Maybe it was due to my empathic Ribombee instincts, or maybe it was simply my own personality, but I felt a powerful urge to get through to him and help him overcome his trauma.

Of course, even stronger than that was the drive to rescue my partner. Her safety was my top priority, and both routes of the ghost’s ultimatum put that in jeopardy. Neither choice was acceptable, so logically, the only course of action was to create a third option. Waiting out the curse was no longer enough. I needed to stop the darkness and bring Sneasel back to her senses before she ran out of energy and lost the ability to defend herself. But how? Sneasel’s tribe knew of no way to pull someone out of their berserk state. If they never found a solution, what chance did I have?

I pondered this dilemma as I flew. I didn’t even pay attention to the rooms I passed through, beyond absentmindedly noting that they continued to be replicas of the guildhall rooms. However, I eventually arrived at one room that arrested all my attention. It was a place I’d seen more than any other in the guildhall.

It was our dorm.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kSKm8rTdRd0 (BGM: Petrichor V - Risk of Rain 2)

I gasped when I flew through the doorway and realized where I was. Ever since the founding of the guild, Sneasel and I had lived in this second-story room on the edge of the building. Though intended for a single occupant, it was perfectly suited for a team where one member was normal-sized and the other was doll-sized, so it had always served our purposes just fine.

I hovered in the center and looked around the room. Everything was spot-on. There on the floor was Sneasel’s stuffed round bed. Even now, I could envision her lying there in one of her usual inelegant poses. Against the wall, beneath the lone round window that now displayed inky blackness, was our desk. It was wide and low, with a seat cushion placed in front for Sneasel. The desk had everything I remembered: the little bowl of luxurious cotton balls I’d used as a bed ever since moving into the guildhall; the miniature desk and chair scaled perfectly for me, comically perched atop the larger desk; the stacks of books, papers, and maps scattered all over; Sneasel’s polished brass hand mirror and its stand, which let it serve as an upright full-body mirror for me; even the heart-meltingly adorable Sneasel plush I’d found at a shop and purchased (but only after a long debate with my heavily reluctant partner, who ostensibly hated all things cute).

Against another wall, I saw the shelving unit full of mementos and knickknacks we’d collected over the years. I hovered lazily in front of it as memories flooded my mind. There was the silver wristwatch we’d obtained from a rift during the Federation Entrance Exam at the Thunder Dome. It had been a brutal mission, but we succeeded thanks to our teamwork and the help of Team Oracle. Speaking of them, I saw the claw-made wooden carvings we’d received as gifts from Charm, and the glowing pink Inviting Orb her partner Natu had given me. And nearby were the broken remnants of the slingshot I once built in an effort to overcome my weakness and inability to use any moves. It stayed in our room as a reminder of my past struggles and the progress I had made.

That wasn’t all. I saw the dark blue feather that Taillow the Chatterbox gave me, plucked from her own wings, to commemorate our friendship and my dream of flight. And there was a miniature mannequin with the Issun costume I wore during the guild’s first Halloween, during which I went on an impromptu and desperate mission with Kiyo. And close to it was the flower press book I’d put together with Minun and Rain, notably featuring a Gracidea I’d received from the Shaymin of Sky Peak. And I even saw the Frism that held a rendition of a human song I held dear, as gifted to me by Gus. And so much more...

Gentle waves of nostalgia washed over me. My eyes watered, but no longer out of fear or sadness. I gradually fluttered upward, remembering everything I’d been through since meeting Sneasel and joining the guild.

Then I saw the invaluable thing at the peak of the shelves, and the nostalgia crashed into me with all the force of a storm. And I wept.

On a simple stand rested a simple book. The cover bore an amateurish drawing of a Ribombee and Sneasel, above which was the title in both English and the Pokemon language: “Team Brave: Year One”.

I’d made this book myself. It was a memoir recounting many events from my first year with Sneasel. I’d given it to her on the first anniversary of our meeting, and despite my fears that she might dislike the sentimental gift, she’d been pleasantly overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude. It became one of her most treasured possessions, alongside the glittering white scarf I gave her during our first Midwinter together. The book had been on display in our dorm ever since our first anniversary, and we sometimes sat down and reread it together so we could recall the wonderful times we’d enjoyed as a team.

My wings faltered. I landed on my knees on the shelf. My body shook with quiet sobs as I gazed up at this special book I had created with my own hands. I gazed at the cover art, where my partner and I stood side by side, happy as could be. Even in the form of a drawing, Sneasel’s smiling face brought comfort to me. This was her true face, untainted by the accursed darkness: her confident smirk, her lively red eyes, the beautiful gleam of the golden gems on her head and chest. This was exactly what I needed to protect.

After everything I’d suffered through and everything I’d seen in this haunted copy of our home, the darkness clouding me began to fade away. Embers of hope reignited, stirred by a strong wind of change.

It was all clear now. A plan was forming. I knew exactly what I had to do. For Sneasel.

“Sneasel...” I murmured. “I... I swear to you. I will not let our story end here.”

* * *

Chapter 5: Rescue

As I shot through the dim wooden corridors of the haunted underhall, I controlled my breathing and concentrated on the background energies all around me. The foul presence was dense here. The ghost was nearby, watching me. More importantly, I felt Sneasel. She was close—so close—yet her mind was so far away. I had a plan to bring it back to her, but I didn’t know if it would work. Nonetheless, it was the best chance I had. Relying on all of my power and the strength of our bond, I would blow away the darkness and rescue Sneasel... or die trying.

It was a short trip to reach my corrupted partner. She was stalking the dim halls aimlessly, hunched over, shadowy mists embracing her like a great cloak. Icy clouds drifted from her snout with each angry snort, and her red eyes were like two lanterns lighting up the dark dungeon. Those mindless eyes snapped toward me as soon as I came into view. I didn’t let them scare me this time. This was no time for fear. This was the time for bravery.

I breathed deeply and said, “H-hello again, Sneasel. I’m here to save you.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kCd4hq14WVg (BGM: Partners - The Great Ace Attorney 2)

With a howl, Sneasel charged. I spun in midair and shot around the corner, letting her follow close behind. The hallway led into a copy of the library, which I’d just passed through on my way to Sneasel. I hovered between the bookshelves, while she rushed into the room and roared up at me. I gathered my energy and breathed deeply. It was time to put the plan into motion, starting with...

“Fairy Wind!”

I fired off a blast of wind laced with sparkling pink energy. It hit Sneasel dead-on, and she growled and stumbled. The smoke surrounding her blew away, and more of it was ripped out from within her too. It was just like I’d seen when I first fled from her: my Fairy-type attack could overpower the Dark-type energy that was surging out of control. But each gust only pushed it back for a moment, necessitating...

“Safeguard!”

I pushed some of my energy over to Sneasel. It wrapped around her in a pale blue layer of light. The darkness tried to engulf her once more, but it turned to tatters and writhed around as the protective barrier held it back. Perfect.

Sneasel didn’t seem to care. She was still utterly feral. Long blades of energy extended beyond her paws; they crackled and ripped the air apart as she leaped up and slashed at me, and I had to stick close to the ceiling and predict her moves to dodge them properly. It was time to start the final part of the plan...

I cleared my throat, spread my arms, and yelled down at her: “Remember the library? Y-you came here every so often—although you n-never visited as much as me. There was one time I found a book here that talked about Sneasel and Weavile gems, and their... c-cultural significance.”

I felt my face grow hot—partially from the embarrassing memory that was reawakening now, but also from the exertion of dodging Sneasel’s frantic slashes.

Continuing, I said, “R-remember what happened? I’d called your gems shiny before, and I... I didn’t realize that had a special meaning. I was, um... hitting on you by mistake, apparently. B-but nowadays, it’s no mistake when I say it: your gems are beautiful! They shouldn’t be covered up by this darkness! F-fight it! I know you can!”

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but for a single second, I could have sworn Sneasel hesitated. She resumed her attack right afterward, and moments later, my Safeguard wore off. The dark mists rushed back in to wrap around her, and I barely managed to avoid getting my wings clipped as she attacked with even more vigor.

It was time to find another memory. I dashed out of the room, and she pursued. After a short chase, we ended up in a replica of the mess hall. I flew over the many tables and benches, while Sneasel crashed headlong into them and flung them aside as if they weighed nothing. I unleashed my combination of Fairy Wind and Safeguard once more and began my next speech: “The mess hall! We’d eat here p-pretty much every day. You always loved Veluza fillets and mangoes. Remember when I tried eating my old favorite—grits—and it, uh, d-didn’t go very well?”

This time, I knew it wasn’t wishful thinking: Sneasel was stalling and holding back when I spoke after pushing the darkness away. Was it due to the weight of the memories, the familiar sound of my voice, or both? Either way, I’d found the key. I had to keep going. For Sneasel.

“Y-yes, that happened when I was still learning to fly,” I continued, narrowly evading some more slashes as I spoke. “A hard time. I was struggling with my instincts, and having t-trouble learning how to manage my Aura and use moves. I tried building a slingshot so I’d be more useful in battle, and th-that also went poorly. You were so worried when it backfired and hurt me... Y-you’ve always cared about me, always looked out for me. And later, when I was t-terrified about losing myself b-because of my new instincts taking over, you held me and comforted me and... y-you gave me the strength to keep going.”

Sneasel leaped at me one more time, and I dashed to the side. But when she landed, she looked up at me and froze instead of attacking again.

Clasping my hands, I cried, “That’s what I want to do for you now. I-I want to give you strength—strength to fight this curse! You can do it! I believe in you!”

The darkness around her claws flickered. Deep within her core, I sensed a small glint of red within the dark bramble consuming her heart. She clutched her head and groaned in pain. A moment later, the shadows overcame my shield and crashed over her once more. Her eyes lost their focus, and she raked her claws along her face, drawing blood from long scratches. I grimaced at the sight. She howled and resumed her attack, and I escaped into the hallway.

The next room was mere seconds away. It was Team Cozy’s dorm, decorated with some basic furniture and a massive comfy blanket that covered the whole floor. Sneasel’s foot claws tore it up as she ran and jumped, once again trying to hit me like a cat going after a bird. The room was smaller than the mess hall, and it would be harder to maneuver and avoid her attacks in here, but I had no choice. There were memories that I needed to remind her about.

“Team Cozy’s dorm!” I called out after pushing the darkness away from her. I kept darting around her claws with precise bursts of wind, and I continued, “R-remember when you got your first batch of cotton from Chespin? You loved it so much, y-you fell asleep right away!”

I laughed at the memory. She hesitated some more, but it wasn’t enough. She continued attacking and I continued evading. My wings were burning and my heart was racing from all the strain, but I couldn’t stop now.

‘Keep going. For Sneasel.’

“W-we visited here a few times, l-like when we gave Team Buckler a tour of the guildhall. Remember them? Th-they’re such strong fighters. They help us out sometimes, a-and we help them too. Same thing with so many other guildmates! Toge, KFC, Arimis, Team Petal-Purr, Team Oracle... we all work together and support each other! Don’t turn your back on them! E-everyone’s waiting for us to get back home—safely, together!”

Sneasel’s eyes went wide. She stumbled, falling down to her hands and knees on the blanket. She snarled and growled, shaking her head and punching the blanket. I darted over to the entrance, waiting and watching her. My shield was holding longer than usual now.

The whole room shook. Lantern flames rippled and books and decorations shuddered on their shelves. Was Sneasel doing that? No—the foul presence was growing stronger again. I felt it pressing against me like a dull blade. The ghost was here.

“What are you doing?” he asked, though he remained unseen.

“S-saving my partner,” I replied.

“No. You can never save her. The curse is unstoppable.”

“I’m n-not so sure about that. Not anymore.”

As if mocking me, the dark energy abruptly overcame my weakening shield and enveloped my partner. Her fiery glare shot to me, and I flew away, guiding her to the next room.

The ghost’s voice followed with her. “Do you honestly believe you can reawaken her memories so easily? You waste your strength! You are helpless. You are terrified. You are weak!”

“No!” I shouted. “I’m not weak, n-not scared, not useless. I used to be like that, but... not anymore. Now, I’m brave. And that’s why I’ll save her. And when I’m done, I’ll do the same for you, spirit!”

There was silence, except for my buzzing wings and constant panting from me and my partner. Even though the ghost said nothing, I felt the pull of the dungeon’s energy as he slowly gathered it together, in preparation for summoning a feral.

And then he stopped.

I gasped and nearly lost the rhythm of my wingbeats. What just happened? There was no time to think about it. I had to focus all my attention on rescuing Sneasel. My energy was fading and my berserk partner was gaining on me, but I couldn’t give up now. Not when I was so close to summiting the cliff that had loomed over us for so long.

Room by room, I led Sneasel through our memories. I was growing ever more exhausted and increasingly struggled to keep dodging her, but at the same time, Sneasel was growing ever more conflicted and attacking with less ferocity. I forced my wings to keep working, forced the winds to keep obeying me, forced myself to never give up.

“The lounge! I remember one time when we were hanging out with our friends, and we s-started talking about dancing. I was t-too shy to do it in front of everyone, but... I danced for you later, and ever since then, w-we’ve done it together every so often. I’m still not the biggest fan of dancing in general, b-but when I do it with you, it’s fun! Being with you just makes every day so much more fun, and bright, and enjoyable. And I know you enjoy our time together, too! It can’t end like this!”

“Yes it can. You have already lost. It is over.”

“Bill’s office! Y-you came here to get help with the curse... H-he’s a good therapist. And remember when he and Gill helped kick off the Summer Festival? Oh, that was an interesting event... I was the project lead, and th-that was stressful, but... you helped me get through it. And the event was a big success! W-we had a stall where people threw your ice darts, and we had prizes, and that one Pokemon kidnapped me, thinking I was a plush! It was scary at the time, b-but looking back at it, that was pretty funny, huh? And you worked so hard to find me and rescue me... You’re such a wonderful partner! P-please come back to me!”

“It is not enough. She shall never return to you! Surrender!”

“Gus’ dorm! W-we met him on the road to Capim, a-and we went to Meloetta’s concert together. Remember? That was all the way back at the beginning. Th-that’s where we met all the others, and... that’s where we learned I w-wasn’t the only human around. What a night that was...”

“STOP! You worthless fool! Accept your defeat!”

“NEVER!”

How could I stop now? I saw the change in Sneasel’s eyes every time I pulled away the curse’s veil and reminded her of who she truly was. With each room and each memory, she fought me less and fought herself more. She grit her teeth, punched the floors and walls, clawed at herself, clutched her head, or even just stared at me with wide eyes that struggled to focus. She was so close. She just needed one final push. And I knew exactly where to do it.

After some frantic exploration, I found the room I was looking for: our dorm. Sneasel rushed into the room after me and tripped over her own bed. I blew back the darkness with my wind and used Safeguard on her again. Sneasel pushed herself up, but for the first time, she didn’t attack me at all. She stayed on her knees and looked around in a daze, all while the dark energy swirled and struggled to break through my shield.

“Our dorm!” I announced. “Y-you know it by heart. This is... This is our home. We’d always relax here, chat about our days and our plans, r-read and work together... So many memories. A-and see this book?”

I fluttered over to “Team Brave: Year One”. Sneasel’s blazing eyes widened, and their vicious glow seemed to diminish. Her mouth hung open, and she growled something that sounded less like a feral noise and more like an attempt at actual speech.

My voice softened, and I fought against the wave of emotion that was welling up again. “I gave you this book on our anniversary. I was so nervous about what you’d think... But y-you loved it. It’s full of memories of the time we spent together. We’ve gone on so many adventures, and we had s-so many ups and downs, but through it all, w-we stayed together as a team. As partners. And... e-even more than that.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PaDce2Zjkfc (BGM: Memories Returned - PMD: Explorers (cover by The Noble Demon))

Sneasel’s eyes were watering. So were mine. I wiped them with my cloak and pressed on.

“Ever since the beginning, you’ve stood by my side and helped me. You’ve given me c-courage when I had none. You’ve made this new life worth living. You’re the best partner I could ever ask for, a-and I won’t lose you!”

Tears fell. Sneasel stayed on her knees, arms limp, eyes focused intently on me. I hovered closer to her and held out my hand.

“It’s up to you now,” I said gently. “T-take the last step. Push the darkness away. Come back to me, Sneasel!”

My Safeguard faded. The shadows collapsed around Sneasel. She slumped forward, and my heart raced. She looked at her claws, still wreathed in dark energy, and let out a growl through bared fangs. Then the noise changed into something I’d feared I might never hear again.

Her voice.

“I... I rem-m... I r-r-remember.”

Light blazed within her. The darkness choking her Aura turned to dust. Like a supernova, the bright red flame of life burst forth from the void. The energy around her claws disappeared, the ice coating her feathers melted away, and the unnatural glow in her eyes was extinguished. Her cloak of shadows fell back into her body. I sensed her Aura shudder as the dark energy was reabsorbed, becoming just another part of her life force—no longer raging out of control.

Against all odds, Sneasel had opposed the doom of her people. The curse was broken.

* * *

Chapter 6: Agra

Sneasel kneeled in the middle of the fake dorm, staring at her claws. They were fouled with my blood as well as hers, but they were free of any darkness. They were as bright as the smile I wore as I hovered closer to her.

Sneasel focused on me. “B-Booker?” she murmured.

“H-hello again, Sneasel,” I said. “I’m so glad that’s over... Y-you’re b-back...”

I couldn’t hold it in any more. I darted straight to my partner’s hand and hugged a claw tightly as sobs of relief burst from me. She gave a start before giving in to her emotions as well. She wrapped her claws around me, pulled me in close to her heart, and fell back onto the floor with a thud. We lay together for a while, saying nothing, simply letting our tears flow as we basked in each other’s presence once again. It felt so good to be in her embrace again.

Sneasel spoke first. “E-everything was... so dark,” she mumbled, her voice cracking. “I... I can remember h-hurting you in the dojo, but... then it was just blurry. I felt all kinds of anger, fear... like some kinda nightmare. B-but there were these little snippets where I saw the guildhall and heard your voice... Y-you saved me, huh?”

“I did my best,” I said. “B-but I don’t think it was all j-just because of me. I only... pushed you in the right direction. I figured out I c-could use my moves to keep the darkness away for a bit, and then I tried reaching you, hoping I’d bring back your memories. But y-you did the fighting. You resisted. And it worked...”

Sneasel sniffed loudly and moved one paw up to her face, wiping her eyes. “I never heard of anyone breaking out of the curse like that. Once it gets you, y-you’re supposed to be lost—till you die or exhaust yourself.”

“That’s what your tribe thinks. But it’s safe to assume n-nobody there knew Fairy-type moves, o-or Safeguard. So there was nothing they could do. But as for us...”

I was jostled as Sneasel let out a chuckle. “Heh, we really are the perfect team, huh?”

She squeezed me tighter. I yelped as the pressure made pain flare up in my chest once more.

“Oops!” she said. “Y-yeah, you’re still hurt, ain’tcha? Me too... Pain’s starting to hit me now. Guess the adrenaline’s wearing off, heh...”

She sat upright, keeping me nestled in the palm of her hand, and took an Oran Berry and Elixir from her pouch. We shared both of them to suppress our exhaustion and pain. But then Sneasel nearly choked on a sip of Elixir, and she looked around with her ear perked right up.

“Hey, what about the ghost?” Sneasel asked. “What happened to him? Probably shouldn’t be taking a break or celebrating till we know—”

“H-he’s here,” I said, my voice suddenly grave. “He was always watching, and...”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IRki5h7Z3k (BGM: Sky Temple Grounds - Metroid Prime 2: Echoes)

I trailed off as the ghost, still in his diminished form, began to materialize in front of the window. “Unbelievable,” he murmured, his voice dull and lifeless. “How did this happen? I... I refuse to accept this. I cannot fail. You cannot defeat me. Not you, not someone like you—a young, stupid, nameless failure who left her people, who never followed the path, never learned discipline... And a weak-minded, soft fool who pities his enemies instead of fighting...”

I fluttered my wings and rose off Sneasel’s paw. “Spirit, p-please listen to me. This has gone on long enough. You need to stop all of this.”

He merely snarled and began drifting to and fro, pacing in the air while muttering under his breath.

“Hey Books, what was that about pity?” Sneasel asked.

I turned to her and quietly replied, “The ghost talked to me, when you were, um... g-going berserk. I sensed he had a lot of sorrow beneath his rage, and I tried getting him to explain why, but he pushed me away.”

“I needed to push you away!” the ghost shouted. “I sinned and I cannot be forgiven—no matter what you believe. Oh, if you only knew the depth of my pain...”

“H-how are we supposed to know if you don’t tell us?” I asked.

A long and cold silence followed. Then I felt the dungeon’s energy begin to swirl as the ghost slowly shaped it into a flickering, unsteady fireball. It crackled and sputtered as it changed shape and solidified into a new feral Pokemon. This time, it didn’t look like any guild member. It was a Weavile. He wore in a black poncho with abstract white markings along the edges, plus strips of white cloth wrapped around his forearms. His body was scarred, his fur was unkempt, and the red feathers of his headdress and frill were tattered and messy.

The ghost eyed us one more time. Then he flew straight into the feral’s head. The feral jolted, and his head twisted unnaturally as his body spasmed. Then he took a deep breath and stood normally. His glowing green eyes stabbed into us both. I gulped and drifted back to Sneasel’s comfortable palm. The Weavile’s eyes were no longer the aimless gaze of a feral—they held intelligence within them.

Then the feral spoke in the voice of the ghost, proving the spirit had possessed his own creation. “I only do this because you are obnoxiously persistent, and I believe explaining myself will finally silence you. So listen well. In life, I took this form. I was known as Agra, son of Iknik. I was a brave and mighty warrior of the Tribe of Stone.”

That phrase carried enough weight to nearly shake the dorm. A sharp gasp echoed around us, originating from both me and my partner. I nearly fell from her palm in my shock.

“The S-Stone Tribe?” I murmured. “No... F-from... E-Elderfrost Island?”

“Th-that’s where I’m from!” Sneasel shouted.

“I know,” said Agra. “We are kin. Two children of Elderfrost. This is why I was originally drawn to you, since the moment I detected your presence. I was pleasantly surprised to sense the soul of a tribemate so far from home. And not only that, but someone who struggled with the same curse as me.”

The Weavile’s claws glowed with deep purple energy, identical to Sneasel’s Night Slash. He raised his paw and regarded his claws with narrowed eyes.

“Yes, that curse... That unbreakable punishment of the gods. Although I was a great warrior, the berserker curse was greater. I tried my utmost to control it, but one day, I went wild. And in my madness...”

His voice faltered. “In my madness, I cut down Imiq, my dear wife.”

Sneasel furrowed her brow. I gasped and covered my mouth.

“S-so that’s why you had so much grief hidden away...” I murmured. “You really did lose someone... B-but this is worse than I expected...”

The ghost shook his paw, casting off the darkness that all three of us hated to see. “When my mind returned to me,” he continued faintly, “I could scarcely believe what I had done. My Imiq, so gentle, so beautiful... I never wished to harm even a single one of her feathers. But her blood stained my claws, clear to see, no matter how much I wished it would vanish. Consumed by horror, regret, and disgust, I fled to the wilderness and perished there. And my body was lost and forgotten, bereft of our funeral rites, dooming my soul to wander forever. It was a better fate than I deserved.”

The ghost’s sorrow was palpable, like a heavy cloud set over me. Succumbing to the curse and harming a loved one was exactly the same fear Sneasel had struggled against for so long. And for this Weavile, it had been a nightmare come true. The urge to comfort Agra tugged at my heart, but my voice failed me.

The ghost continued his speech. “After that, I wandered until meeting the Spiritomb here, and I joined them to escape my solitude. And as I rested here, I noticed both of you—and grew to hate you. Kinfolk, you are a nameless fool who lacks the knowledge and guidance of our people, and you strive to fight the curse by working with foolish outsiders—but somehow, inexplicably, you are finding success. Whereas I was famous for my skills and my power, and I diligently completed the training that should have shielded my soul against the curse’s influence—and still I failed! If you can control your curse despite your lesser circumstances, what does that say about me and my failure?”

“It makes you look even worse,” Sneasel said.

“Precisely. And now you know the truth of my actions. I must refuse forgiveness because my sin cuts too deep, and I must make you suffer to correct the unjustness of this world. Imiq and I deserved better, and you and your tiny weakling of a partner deserve worse. And although my gauntlet failed, and my energy is flagging, I will use the remnants of my power to grind you to dust and end this torment here.”

Leaping to my feet on Sneasel’s paw, I clasped my hands before my heart and pleaded, “Y-you don’t need to do this!”

“Yes, I do,” said Agra. “For Imiq.”

The Weavile raised one paw and swiped it through the air before him. His poncho billowed, and the whole room grew colder. The black void outside the dorm turned to white in a flash, then the window shattered as an intense flurry of snow and biting wind rushed in. The entire room began to melt around us, and in a matter of seconds, our surroundings had shifted from a replica of the dorm to a wide snowy plain. Behind Agra, the bright crescent moon hung low over the distant horizon. Far above us, a vibrant green aurora danced among the stars in the clear night sky.

Sneasel looked around, particularly focusing on the lights in the sky. “Feels like... I’m back home,” she murmured.

Agra’s feet crunched in the snow as he paced. He stretched his arms, cracked his knuckles, and finally adopted a pose similar to Sneasel’s typical fighting stance, with one arm by his head and the other out in front. Sneasel groaned and got to her feet, lightly tossing me up into the air. I fluttered my wings and hovered beside her, nervously wringing my hands. Dark energy writhed around Agra’s claws, and his ethereal green eyes burned brighter. Sneasel breathed deep and summoned a pair of long ice knives, clutching them in her paws and assuming a pose that mirrored Agra’s. I gulped and let sparkling winds flow around my hands. A freezing breeze crossed the snowfield, rustling everyone’s clothes and fur, carrying the promise of cold and sharp pain.

Agra made the first move. He charged, poncho fluttering and arms swept back, leaving trails of purple energy and puffs of pure white snow in his wake. Sneasel adopted a defensive stance, and I used Reflect to give her an extra layer of protection.

It didn’t matter. Agra never reached her.

* * *

Chapter 7: Moving On

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C7pKk3zAON4 (BGM: Escape Through the Snow - PMD: Rescue Team DX)

Sneasel and I stared in surprise as Agra tripped and collapsed into the snow. He lay face down for a few long moments as snowflakes lightly drifted onto him. Then he grunted and pushed himself up, staggering to his feet.

“What was that?” Sneasel asked incredulously.

Agra looked at himself, flexing his claws and watching the dark energy burning on them. “My body...” he mumbled. “I feel weak...”

The Weavile stumbled and lurched toward us like a zombie. Sneasel braced herself, and I launched a blast of Fairy Wind at our foe, testing him just like all the other enemies we’d faced. He simply glared at me and allowed the wind to hit him. We were all shocked when he cried out and took a knee, panting and touching his face as if checking for blood.

“How did you do that?” he growled. “This body should have been immune—like all the rest!”

I let my arms fall to my sides. “You can’t create those special ferals anymore. After that gauntlet, y-you must be exhausted—more than you realized.”

Agra punched the snow with an icy fist, freezing a patch of it solid. “Silence! I still have energy! I cannot stop! Not when I am so close to my revenge!”

Agra struggled to his feet. His face contorted in a pained grimace as he pounced at Sneasel and swiped with his claws. I intercepted his attack with Reflect, and he reeled back as his claws bounced off the shield. Before he could recover, Sneasel leaped through the barrier and stabbed an icy knife through his poncho and into his gut. He cried out and stumbled back, swinging his claws blindly to fend her off. He gripped the shard of ice, yanked it out, and tossed it aside. A cloud of black smoke with green embers poured from the wound, just like the other ferals. Sneasel brandished the other blade, but Agra clutched his injured belly with one paw and raised the other, asking her to stop.

“This should not happen,” he said between labored breaths. He doubled over and grunted. “Gods... Articuno...? Is She stopping me? Is this not meant to be?”

“Maybe,” said Sneasel. “Guess She doesn’t want two Stone Tribe members killing each other.”

Agra fell to his knees in the snow. “Gods, please... have mercy,” he mumbled. “Do not take this from me... Not when I am so close... I waited so long, I tried so hard... This was finally my chance to be at peace!”

He snarled viciously at us, but his lips quivered and his glowing green eyes were watery. “Why?” he cried out. “Why do you succeed where I failed? Even when you succumb to the same curse, you are not punished! You and your partner yet live! Why? Why did Imiq have to die, while you persist and mock my failure? I hate you both! Damn you both!”

Agra slumped forward and slammed his fists into the snow. Powder flew up, and no ice formed this time. His poncho rippled in the breeze, and the only sound he made was his breathing, made hoarse and uneven from wrath.

I drifted next to Sneasel’s head, so close that my wings nearly brushed against her fur. Faintly, she whispered, “So, what are we gonna do with this crybaby? Should we finish him off?”

“H-he’s not a crybaby,” I said. “You heard him. There’s so much... pain in him. Anyone would break under that pressure.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve been through a lotta pain too. All cuz of him. I don’t think we should go easy on him.” She began twirling her remaining Ice Shard in her claws. “We got a job to do. Let’s just get this over with. He deserves punishment, and we’ve gotta defeat him, so taking him out is a win-win.”

“He’ll still be wracked with pain,” I murmured, watching the grieving Weavile. “Sneasel... our ultimate goal isn’t explicitly to d-defeat the spirits by overpowering them. We need to soothe them, right? So, d-doesn’t that mean we should try to help him find peace?”

“Uh... I mean, technically, yeah. But do you really wanna do that after what he did to us? How are we supposed to forgive him?”

“Part of me doesn’t want to forgive him,” I said. “I’ll admit that. It would be so easy to just... stab him, send him back to the Spiritomb, and leave him to wallow forever. But after talking with him earlier, and hearing more about his past recently, I-I don’t think he deserves that. He’s doing a truly monstrous thing, but he’s not truly a monster.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes. He’s lashing out b-because he’s in pain. That doesn’t justify what he’s done, but I believe he deserves a second chance.”

Sneasel considered my words for a bit, idly twirling her ice. Agra remained motionless. Maybe he was listening in, or maybe he was too wrapped up in his own turmoil to notice.

Sneasel finally let out a sigh. “Shoulda known you’d try befriending this jerk, you big softie... Look, you know I ain’t a fan of forgiving and forgetting. But I trust you. And you’ve pretty much never steered me wrong before, even if I didn’t always agree with you. So... I’ll back you up.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Can you hand me that Ice Shard, please?”

“Why?”

“I want to give it to him.”

She furrowed her brow. “You... wanna give him a weapon? I know I said I trusted you, but I dunno about this.”

“I-I have a plan. It’ll be okay.”

She reluctantly handed over her shard of ice. It was almost twice as long as I was tall, and thicker than my torso, but not heavy enough to be unwieldy. My special cloak let me withstand the cold, so I hugged the long blade against myself and hovered over to the heartbroken Weavile.

“Agra?” I said softly. “Have you been listening? We’re ending this, b-but not with violence.”

He didn’t look up, but his ear feathers twitched.

I gulped and continued, “You reacted with pain when you were hit by our attacks. You feel s-sensations when you possess this body, don’t you? Just as if you were a real, flesh-and-blood Pokemon. If that’s the case, th-then I might know a way to help you.”

I drifted downward till my feet nearly touched the snow. I was floating close—perhaps dangerously so—to Agra’s lowered head, but despite the fury writhing within him, I sensed no explicit hostility. He wasn’t about to lash out at me. At least, not for the next couple seconds. “Agra, p-please start by holding this ice against the back of your neck,” I said. “It might help you feel better.”

I deposited the shard on the snow and floated back. At length, the Weavile lifted his head slightly, just enough to glare at me. Despite my racing heart, I held his gaze. He broke away first. He looked down at the ice, and his paw moved. I half expected him to abruptly attack me, but he simply grabbed the shard. He pushed himself up with the other paw, and while still sitting and slouching, he held the ice against the back of his neck. His shuddering continued, though I knew it wasn’t from the cold.

“That sh-should help you calm down,” I explained. “Now... you should breathe carefully too. Just do as I say... please. Sit up straight, then p-put your tongue against the back of your top teeth. Breathe out—purse your lips. Then, um... breathe in again, th-through the nose, for four seconds.”

Agra’s withering glare nearly made me forget the steps, but I somehow managed to explain the technique. Even more surprisingly, he followed along and breathed just as I told him. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight, over and over. The entire time, I kept an eye on his emotions. They were stabilizing like a sea after a storm. The anger and grief in him were now a low smoldering blaze instead of a dangerous inferno.

“W-wonderful job,” I said. “Are you better now? Calmer?”

Agra’s gaze had wandered during the breathing exercise, but now his glare focused squarely on me. “Why are you doing this?” he asked. “I do not desire your pity. Nor do I deserve it.”

“It’s what Sneasel and I have always done—ever since we made our team, over two years ago. We help everyone in need. And even if you’ve hurt us... y-you are in need.”

I flew over and sat atop Sneasel’s head once again. Agra, still sitting in the snow, looked up at us and set down the shard of ice he held.

“Agra, I’m... so sorry life was unfair to you,” I said. “What happened to you is... almost too horrible to think about. I was t-torn away from my family, and I doubt I’ll ever see them again, s-so I know how badly loss can sting. I’ve never experienced the same kind of horror that happened to you, though... R-regardless, I understand you’re hurting, and I want to help you, j-just like I helped my partner overcome her own inner darkness.”

“But why?” he asked faintly. “Your behavior is nonsense. Why do you have even the slightest desire to help someone like me?”

With a deep breath, I answered, “Because it’s the right thing to do. Do I need any other reason to be kind?”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gokpwGKOk1g (BGM: Run Away Fugitives - PMD: Rescue Team)

Agra’s response was a blank stare that hid conflict within. After a very pregnant pause, he grunted and shifted, standing upright. His poncho rippled as he crossed his arms over it.

“You are a bigger fool than I originally thought, insect,” he said.

“M-maybe,” I said. “But if I can ease your suffering so you stop lashing out at others, then... th-that’s a better way to defeat an enemy than just stabbing them.”

“You wish to ease my suffering? Yet you deny me the satisfaction of achieving my vengeance?”

Sneasel interjected, “Hey, about the whole vengeance thing: you know we never actually did anything to you, right? We never even knew you existed before today. Usually you get revenge on people who did something bad on purpose.”

“It matters not,” said Agra. “Whether you were aware of me or not, you humiliate me by continuing to avoid the consequences of your curse.”

“Look,” Sneasel said with a groan, “I get you’re upset, but revenge ain’t gonna make you feel better. Well, maybe it’ll feel good for a bit. But I can tell you from experience, revenge ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She pointed at her notched ear that rose up beside me. “See this? A bandit did this to me. I was pissed about it, and I tried to get him back for it, but I was rushing it. I wasn’t ready to fight him yet, and I wasn’t in the right state of mind, so he beat me just like last time. That was when I learned you can’t let yourself get blinded by revenge. It just causes more pain in the end.”

I nodded. “Well said. Seeking revenge doesn’t solve the root of your problem. Y-you’re not doing what you truly need to do, Agra.”

“And what is that?”

I stood up on Sneasel’s head, and spread my arms wide. “Move on,” I said. “You can’t let the past torture you forever, and you can’t drag people down with you in some... d-desperate attempt to stop your pain. That’s just a distraction. It’s not a real remedy.”

Sneasel pointed up at me. “He’s got a point,” she said to Agra. “You’re looking for someone to take out your anger on, and I get that. There’s a lotta times where I feel the same kinda urge. But you can’t hurt folks just cuz you’re jealous of them, or cuz they remind you of the times you failed. When you screw up, you just gotta learn from it and move on. That’s the only way you can get stronger.”

“You fools... How can I move past this?” Agra growled. He shot his claws a withering glare. “I killed her. The one I loved. The kindest, gentlest soul I ever met.”

“It won’t be easy to forgive yourself,” I said. “But th-the path you’re taking now simply isn’t the way to a happier future. You need to do something else—something better—no matter how difficult it is. Sneasel, maybe you need to remind your tribemate about th-the mantra your people had.”

“I know what you mean,” she said. “Folks always drilled it into my head in the tribe: it’s fine to screw up or be weak, but the most important thing is to never give up. Keep training, keep learning, so you never screw up the same way again.”

“That’s it. You always said that same thing to me, Sneasel, e-ever since the day we met. I always took it to heart. It gave me a lot of motivation as I was struggling to learn how to f-fight and fly. I never would’ve learned to do those things without your support.”

“I see that lesson is still taught to our people now, after all this time,” said Agra. “But still—”

“But nothing,” said Sneasel. She crossed her arms and stepped closer to Agra. I had to sit down again for stability as she tilted her head up to look him in the eye. “It’s the best lesson I ever learned. It’s the one that carried me and Booker this far. It’s the reason we called ourselves Team Brave, y’know. We wanna be brave and keep pushing forward no matter what.”

“And that lesson from the Stone Tribe has always b-been our guiding light,” I said.

“A pretty bright light, at that. Booker gets it. I get it. Why not you, Agra? Think of it this way: do you really think your wife would be fine with you obsessing over your failure like this and letting it drive you crazy? Would she be fine with you torturing and killing some innocent folks just cuz you regret something you did?”

“Would that make Imiq’s spirit rest easier,” I added softly, “o-or would it make her suffer just like you?”

Agra’s green eyes seemed to burn with rage as we mentioned his wife. But as he thought about it more, his fury dimmed. He slouched and averted his gaze from us.

“I cannot believe I am saying this, but you are correct,” he said weakly. “She was always such a soft soul. In a way, you remind me of her... Booker. She was not weak, but she always saw the best in everyone and tried to help them. Someone like her did not deserve to die as she did. But... neither do you. Both of you are innocent. You struggle with the same challenges I did. If I torment my kinfolk simply because you meet with more success than I did, then I am failing once again. Failing myself—and failing Imiq.”

There was a shift in the strange ghostly energies that swirled beneath Agra’s Weavile shell. They grew brighter, yet softer. For the first time, the constant background radiation of darkness, rage, confusion, and pain was breaking. In its place was the warm glow of light, happiness, hope, and peace.

Sneasel raised a paw, hesitated, and then reached up to place it on Agra’s shoulder. He gave a start and looked at her claws resting on his poncho. He turned his attention back to us, and he saw us both smiling at him.

“Y-you...” he mumbled. He reached up and clutched Sneasel’s paw. His legs quaked, and he fell to his knees in the snow. “Thank you. It has been so long since I felt the touch of a tribemate.”

I could have sworn he shed a tear. But if he did, it lasted a mere moment before he fell apart.

Sneasel pulled her hand back with a gasp as the artificial Weavile body turned to dust and glimmering smoke, which were entirely blown away on the snowy wind. In their place was a little purple will-o-wisp, no larger than me, with a big pair of round green eyes and no mouth. It looked just like the Spiritomb fragment Heidi had brought with her when she escaped the dungeon. And that meant the ghost had finally exhausted all his power. He no longer controlled this branch of the dungeon, and the dungeon no longer corrupted his heart.

It was finally over. The darkness had passed.

* * *

Chapter 8: Brave

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlB5akn2G6I (BGM: Goodnight - PMD: Explorers)

The dungeon froze solid. The rippling aurora and the pale snowflakes hung motionless in midair, and the breeze died. Time itself stood still. Sneasel hesitantly reached out and touched one paralyzed snowflake, and it disintegrated instantly.

“I feel my power wane,” said the spirit. His gruff voice sounded so thin and frail, but also calm, as if he were speaking from another room while half-asleep. “This place shall soon collapse. However, while we are still alone together, I would like to thank you. You have granted me so much mercy despite the agony I caused you. I do not deserve this treatment, but I am eternally grateful for it—and I vow to never allow jealousy and hatred to drive me mad again.”

Sneasel crossed her arms and let out a snort. “You’d better not,” she said. “I ain’t exactly ready to forgive you for what you did, but Booker’s got a point: as long as you don’t cause any more trouble, that’s the most important thing.”

“Indeed. In truth, I believe the dungeon itself had some influence over my behavior, amplifying the most extreme aspects of the hatred that festered within me... Regardless, I should have been strong enough to resist its influence.”

“Hmm... Yeah, I know how dungeons can drive you nuts. Same thing happened to me years ago... Anyway, glad you’re changing your tune, spook.”

“Thank you. After what I experienced this day, I have newfound conviction. I will make nobody else suffer like you. And I wish you the best of luck in taming your affliction. The way your little partner helped you overcome the berserker curse was remarkable, young Sneasel. Perhaps together, you will truly find the peace you seek.”

I smiled at that. “It’s wonderful to hear you say that, Agra. Thank you for—”

I suddenly felt an odd pressure in my mind. I glanced up and gasped as the sky turned strange. The frozen aurora cracked apart into fragments, the crescent moon over the horizon grew larger as it twisted and deformed, and the stars shuddered violently. The snowflakes around us began to dart every which way, and a dull rumble echoed around us.

“Brace yourselves,” said the ghost.

The world turned to glass and twisted away, folding on itself in impossible angles. Darkness encroached, but then vibrant sunlight vanquished it. And just like that, we were free.

We found ourselves on the grass a hundred feet away from the guildhall. The sky was clear, the breeze was cool, and the afternoon sun was soothingly warm. It came as a shock after the dark and frigid snowfield we just left, even though my special cloak helped me tolerate the abrupt shift. Our surroundings were so peaceful that it felt wrong somehow, like this was just another trick of the dungeon. But I sensed no darkness and no foul energy in the autumn air around us. We were truly safe in the outside world once more.

“Never thought I’d see the sun again,” Sneasel said with a deep sigh.

Some of our guildmates were gathered outside the building, waiting for news from the explorers who remained within the haunted underhall. They noticed our sudden appearance and waved as we went over to them. Agra stayed back at first, but Sneasel encouraged him to accompany us. A couple other spirits were among the crowd, floating near the teams that had returned before us. Our friends and guildmates greeted us enthusiastically and peppered us with questions, but Guildmaster Lliam silenced them and congratulated us on our victory. Noting our wounds, he told us that Kina the nurse was available with an impromptu clinic on the grass nearby. Although the items we’d recently used were enough to let us tolerate our injuries, we paid Kina a quick visit so she could use her Heal Pulse and share some stronger medicine.

After that, all three of us decided it was time to have a talk in private. We went to the forest’s edge, atop a slight rise within view of the guildhall. Sneasel sat down on the grass, and I perched atop her head, while Agra drifted idly before us both.

“I have thanked you with words,” he said, “but they are insufficient. I must repay you for your kindness. Although I obviously have nothing physical to offer anymore, I can grant you information and power. Booker, I am aware that you enjoy the pursuit of knowledge. I would be glad to teach you about my homeland and its history, and answer any questions you have, until I must rejoin the other spirits and take my leave.”

I perked up. “That sounds exciting,” I said as my wings fluttered on their own. “Sneasel has told me a lot about Elderfrost and her tribe already, but I’m sure you have lots of a-additional information. And it seems like we’re one of the first teams back—I thought we spent a long time in there, but d-dungeons are known to warp time, after all—so we’ll have plenty of time to talk. I can’t enter the guildhall and get my supplies to write everything down, b-but we should still have a notebook and pen in the pouch. Of course, um... Sneasel, if this sounds too boring for you, we can skip—”

“Not at all!” she said. “Normally I’d call you a nerd for liking this kinda thing, but honestly, I’d love to hear what he’s got to say about the Island. I haven’t talked to someone from the tribe in forever. I dunno when I’m gonna get a chance like this again, so I don’t wanna miss it. But for the record, Books, you really are a nerd.”

She chuckled. I rolled my eyes and said, “If you really think this idea is so nerdy, then Agra and I could just f-fly away together and talk in private.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll lay off it,” Sneasel said with a laugh. “I do wanna hear what he says.”

Agra focused on my partner. “I would also like to hear about how the tribe is doing now, if you are willing to discuss that subject with me.” She nodded, and Agra continued, “We should wait to hold these discussions, however. Before we begin, I would like to offer you a gift as well, Sneasel: a fragment of my power. As I am sure you know, our people can train to channel the power of the hereafter, unlocking the fierce technique of Shadow Claw. But with a boon from a spirit such as myself, you could acquire that power immediately.”

“That’s interesting,” I said. “And useful. Ghost-type attacks are p-pretty similar to Dark-type attacks, so this could be a substitute for your Night Slash. You’ll be able to fight without using the darkness as much.”

It sounded like a great idea to me, but Sneasel said nothing and began to shift her weight awkwardly under me. “Is something wrong?” I asked her.

“I-I dunno,” said Sneasel, reaching up to rub the back of her head. “It’d be nice to have another move I can use instead of Night Slash, but... There’s gonna be times when I gotta use the darkness, so I gotta keep training with it till I get better at controlling it. I can’t let today’s nightmare happen again.”

I twisted so I could reach back and touch her claw softly. “I understand. We can decline if you want.”

“Hey, don’t get me wrong! I totally wanna learn Shadow Claw! Using a ghost move sounds really cool! I just don’t wanna rely on it too much and run away from my problem, y’know?”

“O-oh. In that case, feel free to learn the move. I’m glad to know you won’t stop working on the curse—n-not that I ever doubted you’d stop.”

“We’ve come way too far to stop now, partner. But I got one question.” She jabbed a claw at Agra and snarled, “You’re gonna give me some of your energy, huh? You ain’t planning to possess me, are you?”

“Absolutely not,” he replied bluntly. “I now lack the power to do so, even if I wanted to. I will simply offer you a piece of my essence, and after it infuses you, you can call upon it to aid you anytime. The choice is yours.”

“I believe he’s being honest,” I noted. “And if he tries anything funny, I’ll protect you.”

“I know I can count on you,” Sneasel said. She gestured for me to dismount and hover nearby, and I did so. Sneasel spread out her arms and nodded at the ghost. “Alright, let’s give it a go.”

Agra’s wispy body shuddered, and a small piece broke off. The tiny, pale purple spark lazily drifted over to us, then sank into the golden gem on Sneasel’s chest. She flinched, but held steady and waited as the flame disappeared within her. She lowered her arms and flexed her claws.

“Huh. I feel funny,” she said. “Like there’s a... warmth inside me. But it doesn’t hurt. Feels sorta comforting.”

“My ember is a part of you now,” said the ghost. “Focus on that new spark, and command it to grow and obey.”

Sneasel stood up, held out an arm, and moved her claws. She breathed deeply, and within seconds, a small purple will-o-wisp flared to life in her palm. We both gasped.

“Alright, that’s pretty cool,” she said. She even struck a pose with the little flame, making me chuckle. She stretched out her claws, and the flame merged with them, wreathing them in wispy purple energy—similar to her Night Slash, but brighter and gentler. We viewed it from every angle, marveling at this new ability.

“The power of the hereafter is yours,” said Agra. “I hope it serves you well.”

Sneasel dismissed the ethereal flames from her claws. They formed into a will-o-wisp again, which briefly orbited around her head before sinking back into her body.

“Guess I oughta thank you,” said Sneasel. “This’ll come in handy.”

“You are welcome. However...”

The little wisp idly floated around, and his eyes focused everywhere but us.

“What’s up?” asked Sneasel.

“I was debating if I should do this,” he said, “but I suppose it cannot hurt to introduce the concept and see how you respond. I know your lack of a true name has been a recurring pain within your mind, hence why I targeted it earlier in an effort to break you. On that topic, I apologize for that behavior.”

Sneasel responded with a mild snarl. Agra didn’t let it bother him. He continued talking.

“In life, due to my status as a mighty warrior of the Stone Tribe, I had the authority to grant true names to young Clawfolk. I presided over multiple rites of passage and helped the council grant names to those successful youths. I assume the same practice occurs today.”

“Yeah,” said Sneasel. “But why are you...? What are you planning?”

“Precisely this: if you wish, I could offer you a true name.” Agra paused, both for dramatic effect and to give time for me and Sneasel to gasp, before continuing. “I have witnessed you prove your might, your bravery, and your strength of will today. Despite our... unorthodox situation, I believe you have fulfilled the requirements for a true name.”

I leaned forward and looked down, watching Sneasel wring her claws nervously. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice quiet and soft, like she was afraid that talking too loudly might make Agra change his mind. “I-I dunno if I really deserve a name. I gave in to the curse, right? I... I failed.”

“You did not fail. You displayed great power and skill by defeating countless foes and resisting the curse far better than I ever could have imagined. Although your partner played a major role in that, your own resilience was a vital factor as well. Additionally, you showed mercy and support to a tribemate, and you demonstrated adherence to our people’s mantra. If you were still in the village, they would surely consider you a valuable member of the tribe. And for that reason, I would be happy to grant you a true name, as proof of your development and as a sign of hope for your future.”

Sneasel said nothing for a while. All she did was fidget. But the bright, warm Aura rising up from beneath me told me everything I needed to know. I patted Sneasel’s head next to where I sat, and I waited for her to voice her decision.

“I’m kinda torn,” Sneasel finally said. “I’m still angry at you, and it feels wrong to accept a name from someone who hurt me so badly. But that stuff you just said was... really nice. It’s exactly what I always wanted to hear. And even though I’m used to being called Sneasel all the time, having a name would be a dream come true. Not to mention, this may be my only chance to make it happen. So...”

She took a deep breath and placed her paws in her lap. “A-alright, then. If you really wanna do this, I guess I ain’t gonna stop you. Go for it.”

Her tone was nonchalant. At least, she tried to make it sound that way. She failed due to her voice and body both shaking with anticipation. I clearly felt her excited jittering beneath me, and it made me smile in amusement. Her excitement was rubbing off on me.

“Very well. Booker shall be our witness,” said Agra. He darted around us and glowed brighter as he emitted the echoey sound of a throat clearing. Then in a loud and steady voice, he announced: “Young Sneasel, in honor of your achievements, you have earned the right to a true name. Before this witness and the gods above, and with the power invested in me by the tribal council of elders, I confer upon you such a title. From this day onward, you shall be known as Niravaq.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6ca8wsgDRA (BGM: Hometown - Terranigma (Cover by Roman Heuser))

“Niravaq... Braveclaw...” Sneasel breathed, testing out the word and its meaning. “I... I dunno what to say... I’ve wanted this for so long. I hated being treated like a failure all the time and never getting any respect cuz I never had a name, a-and now I finally got one. It’s...”

She sniffled and wiped her nose with her arm. But then she laughed. “It finally happened! I got a true name! Booker, this is awesome!”

I sensed what she was about to do, but I made no effort to avoid it. She grabbed me off her head and swept me down to her chest to hug me tightly. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt this time.

“It brings me joy to know I could assist my kinfolk,” Agra says. “Wear your name with pride. Though this does not absolve me of my sins, I hope it brings me closer to it. And now, Booker, I believe I owe you history and lore.”

I eagerly nodded. I sat in front of my partner, and she handed me my small notebook, inkwell, and specially-designed pen from her belt pouch. “R-ready when you are,” I said, leaning back against my partner’s knee.

Agra cleared his nonexistent throat once more. “Very well. Let me begin by telling you of the world’s creation. In the time before time, the mighty Articuno rose from the void and brought life to the formless ice...”

And so, Agra regaled us with the stories and legends of the Stone Tribe. I recognized some of them, as Sneasel—Niravaq—had already told me about them. Still, much of the information was new, and some of the legends were subtly different than when I’d heard them previously. Agra also told us amusing anecdotes about his tribemates, tender stories about Imiq, exciting tales of how he earned his reputation as a powerful warrior, and so much more. Niravaq occasionally chimed in to inform Agra about life in the tribe during the modern era, long after he passed away. He always listened with rapt attention. He shimmered with happiness as he heard the tribe was doing just fine, and his people were continuing to thrive on the dangerous and frigid island of Elderfrost.

At one point, Agra asked if I could tell him more about humans. Because he had observed the guild for so long, he was well aware that some guildmembers used to be a different type of creature before transforming into Pokemon, but he admitted the concept of humans was still confounding.

“Same,” said Niravaq with a chuckle.

“Y-you want to know about humans?” I asked Agra, taking a break from my frantic note-taking. “That could take a while. There’s a lot to talk about, and a lot of it would be... difficult for a native Pokemon to comprehend...”

“Yeah, we’ll be here for days before he gets a good grasp on humans. I still don’t get half the stuff you guys say. Like all those mems or whatever you call them.”

“Come on—by this point, you know they’re called memes.”

“That’s what I said. Anyway, at least you’re more normal than most of the guild, Books. But at this point, I don’t mind how so many of you humans are weird. It makes the Clover Guild a lot more fun.”

She reached down and fiddled with my antennae, while I lightly shoved at her claws and grinned. I froze up once I noticed Agra staring at us. His eyes glimmered, and despite his lack of a mouth, I knew he was smiling on the inside.

“Watching you interact, hearing you speak, witnessing how you care for each other...” he mused. “You remind me of myself and my dear Imiq.”

My face grew hot. A quick glance at my partner showed the faintest of blushes under her fur too.

“Your bond is precious,” Agra continued. “Though it has been stained with blood and fear, it has survived and grown stronger. I hope that you remain together for the rest of your days. May the gods bless you and your bond, Niravaq and Booker.”

My partner and I gazed into each other’s eyes and smiled. Warmth and happiness flowed through us both, illuminating our mint and red Auras plainly. We didn’t need words to know that we were thinking the same thing: darkness could cover us like a cruel storm, and fear could threaten us with sharp claws, but nothing would ever tear us apart. We had our friends. We had the Clover Guild. And most of all, we had each other.

No matter what the future brings, Team Brave will face it as one, and we will stay together forever.

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Epilogue: Coming soon

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