Kivara Kivaran Bivouac

[canisaries]

Ben was so happy to eat real, natural smoked fish instead of his daily bear feed that it briefly made him forget about his entire situation. Andre, on the other hand, exprienced something similar with the warmth of the hearth. Tea sounded very pleasant, too.

Both waited patiently for Alioth to begin his story.

 

[Chibi Pika]

"What kind of tea?" she asked, mildly.

"What kind of story?" asked Matthias, who'd so still and quiet it would be easy to forget he was there.

"Just a bit of wintergreen that I've been cultivating," Alioth replied. "Or, if you prefer a sweeter flavor, some juniper berry," he added, producing a spoonful of dark blue powder from his herbal stores.

As he prepared the mixture in an assortment of small wooden cups and handed them out to his guests, he pondered the second question. "As for what kind of story, mm... I've gathered a great many from my wanderings over the years." A long moment passed, quiet save for the crackling of the fire and the sipping of tea.

"But you know, I have always found myself drawn to the tales one finds within dungeons. There are places that never truly forget what has transpired within. And if we listen closely, we can hear it."

The Typhlosion produced a pawful of glittering silt from his cloak—what the Wayfarers would recognize as dungeon dust—and scattered it over the fire. At once, the flames crackled and popped in a host of rainbow colors, and a curious feeling began settling in, not unlike setting foot within the shallows of a rift. The warmth of the tent became a light, airy sensation, melding with the sweet smoke of the incense and the minty taste of the tea. Overhead, a tapestry of glimmering light came into gradual focus, almost as if the stars could be seen through the thick hide of the tent, with a distinct red star shining on the southeast horizon...

 

[Jackie Cat]

Feeling more comfortable and at ease, he eyed the two natural Sneasel and let his tail wag a little. “So! How ‘bout some introductions now, huh? Name’s Silver!”

"Eww, gross," said the younger Sneasel. "That's so weird, giving out your Name like that. We don't know each other, wierdo."

The older one jabbed the kit in the ribs. "Stop being rude and tell him your nickname, then, idiot."

"Fine. You can call me 'Nettle', outlander" said Nettle, sulkily.

The adolescent one tapped his own chest. "Some call me Pointer," he declared. He pointed at Silver. "We're not calling you by your Name, outlander. We'll call you... Chirps."

Nettle snickered to himself. "Chirps."

At once, the flames crackled and popped in a host of rainbow colors, and a curious feeling began settling in, not unlike setting foot within the shallows of a rift. The warmth of the tent became a light, airy sensation, melding with the sweet smoke of the incense and the minty taste of the tea. Overhead, a tapestry of glimmering light came into gradual focus, almost as if the stars could be seen through the thick hide of the tent, with a distinct red star shining on the southeast horizon...

Laura settled down, gratefully accepting a cup of tea and sipping at it hesitantly. Not the same thing at all as regular Galarish black tea, of course, but it was still a comforting hot drink. That counted for a lot.

She looked on with interest, wondering how much of the vision before them was Alioth's particular magic, and how much was hallucinogenic incense or plant-smoke or whatever. It was difficult to mind much, when she was this relieved. Finally, she could relax a notch or two...

 

[canisaries]

Andre and Ben accepted their tea with their vines and paws respectively and thanked Alioth.

The Typhlosion produced a pawful of glittering silt from his cloak—what the Wayfarers would recognize as dungeon dust—and scattered it over the fire. At once, the flames crackled and popped in a host of rainbow colors, and a curious feeling began settling in, not unlike setting foot within the shallows of a rift. The warmth of the tent became a light, airy sensation, melding with the sweet smoke of the incense and the minty taste of the tea. Overhead, a tapestry of glimmering light came into gradual focus, almost as if the stars could be seen through the thick hide of the tent, with a distinct red star shining on the southeast horizon...

"Whoa," Ben breathed, beady eyes wide. "That's so pretty..."

Andre, too, appreciated the sight, though the thought of 'you will forget all this when you return' made it bittersweet...

 

[Chibi Pika]

The inside of the tent had dissolved away into dream-smoke, shifting and wavering as the stars above began to rearrange themselves into new constellations. Alioth spoke again, but his words had grown strangely distant and echoing.

'It is often said that those who are called here from lands across the Astral Plains have a grand destiny in store. But how true is that?'

The dream-smoke became a landscape, stretching out to the horizon. A tapestry of locations, shifting from a small village, to rippling plains, to towering castles. Two of the constellations had taken the shape of Pokémon, young Pokémon, judging by their size compared to the dwellings around them. The taller one standing on four long legs, perhaps a Deerling or Blitzle. The smaller, with long ears like a Pikachu or Bunnelby.

'Long ago, there was a boy who awakened to find himself in another world, a world where everyone he met was quite unlike himself. For you see, the boy was human, once.'

The constellations shifted. The long-eared one had taken a battle stance, facing up to enemies twice his size, and winning. The long-legged one always by his side, supporting him.

'Everyone knows how the legends go—in times of great crisis, a human hero will appear to restore balance. The boy and his partner heard these tales, and they knew in their hearts that it must be true. Why else would he have found himself here?'

The two walked side-by-side down a long road, their forms shifting from a collection of stars to a blot of fresh ink on parchment, the details slowly coming into focus. A Nidoran, his eyes shining with desire for greatness. A fae-Ponyta, their mane and horn shimmering with the joy of purpose. Indistinct shapes around the young pair were waving them off with high hopes.

'And so, the two set off to become heroes.'

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura's grip on her drink tightened a little as Alioth began to talk about summoned humans. 'Angels'. Heroes. Like the Wayfarers – who, she was increasingly aware of late, had been summoned by a considerably less grand authority than the World-Spirit herself, as it turned out. Did Alioth already know something about them, somehow? She tried to hush the thought. It hardly mattered anyway, right?

He was a pretty good storyteller, if she was honest. One of those 'universal' narration voices, meant for everyone (including kids – or 'kits' or 'cubs' or whichever) to listen to and remember. The illustrations were a nice touch. How the fuck was he doing that, anyway?

Overhead, Malachai shifted in the 'rafters' of the tent, readjusting his wings. A cynical comment formed in his mouth, only for him to swallow it.

Matthias, too, was silent. For his part, he looked as if he had already heard this one, somehow. The look in his eyes suggested he didn't look forward to it, though...

 

[Chibi Pika]

The illustrated tale continued with Nidoran and Ponyta setting off on their quest, their surroundings blurring from one location to the next through the billowing dream-smoke. They crossed rivers, fields, and even mountain ranges. Daunting cities many times larger than the home they'd left behind.

'But, to the pair's dismay, they found the world beyond their village to be full of strife. The sort that was not so easily defeated.'

The landscape around the two warped and twisted into fields cursed with famine and rivers gone dry. Great armies driven to battle by warring kingdoms. The shadowy silhouettes of Pokémon forced to leave their homes. The two young 'mon turned in every direction at the center of it all, running from one problem to the next, to no avail.

'How could they bring balance to the world if they did not know where to begin? And so, the two began searching for answers as to what the boy's destiny truly was.'

The landscape melted into a secluded campfire not unlike the one the Wayfarers found themselves seated around in reality. Only, instead of a ghostly Typhlosion at its head, there stood a crimson-scaled crocodilian, singing a tune to the flames and divining fortune from the colors and shapes that resulted. On the other side of the fire, Nidoran and Ponyta sat, eagerly awaiting the answers they'd been seeking.

'A sage told them of the truth: "In you, I do not sense a connection to the World-Spirit." "What does that mean?" asked the boy. And the sage replied: "I do not believe that you were summoned here by her hand. You are not her chosen hero."

'This troubled the boy greatly, and he protested: "Why else would I be here? I know I am human, I can feel it." And his partner added: "We never would have made it this far if he wasn't!"

'But the sage was resolute in her verdict: "Sometimes in this world, there are cosmic accidents that we cannot understand. Try as we might to find purpose in all things, it is not always so."'

An accident. Even within the inkblot visuals of the dreamscape above, the look on the boy's face was apparent.

 

[canisaries]

Ben was hesitant to interrupt the story, but his growing unease made him unable to sit in silence.

"W-wait, what about us?" the teddiursa asked. "Do we have a purpose here?"

Andre thought for a moment. "Well, we were summoned at the request of someone we've been trying to track down, but you new ones? I'm not sure."

"What does that mean for our return?" Ben asked. "We... are gonna get back to our homes, right?"

"Well, since our translation works again, we know Betel must still be alive. So they should be able to send us back when our job is done... and you too, I think."

"I don't like how unsure you are about that..."

 

[Jackie Cat]

Laura tried to push words to the surface, but only made an uncomfortable, strangled noise. She had enough to ponder for herself without trying to reassure the bear guy.

"You'll go home one way or another," said Matthias, in a soft voice. "My own fate is uncertain, but you will certainly return. As for your purpose..."

"Yes," chirped Malachai from above, "I would very much like to know our purpose."

Matthias smiled cryptically. "Why, your companions – your counterparts – were brought here to help a human girl to fight... to defeat... an organisation. Or, more accurately, an ideology. A 'cause'."

Laura rubbed her temple. "Matthias? You really gotta find a better way of explaining this shit."

"ON second thought, perhaps this can wait until after the story is complete," said Malachai, with a sigh. This shut Laura and Matthias up, at least.

 

[Cresselia92]

"Fine. You can call me 'Nettle', outlander" said Nettle, sulkily.

The adolescent one tapped his own chest. "Some call me Pointer," he declared.

Silver nodded slowly. Fitting nicknames for sure, and he found it quite interesting that those Sneasel had both names and nicknames. A fascinating detail about the weasels’ culture…

He pointed at Silver. "We're not calling you by your Name, outlander. We'll call you... Chirps."

Nettle snickered to himself. "Chirps."

…which turned out to not be nearly as fascinating when applied on him. The not-really-a-Sneasel stared hard at the duo of authentic Sneasel, his eyes wide in bafflement and a light cough escaping his lips.

Chirps…?

What kinda nickname was that?! He wasn’t a chirper… was he? Oh gods, did that strange soul bird affect his behavior in some way without him realizing?

…Although, on second thought, maybe those Sneasel were just trolling him, which wouldn’t be surprising. There was a reason they’re known as ‘sneaky weasels’, after all.

But still! Chirps?!

The teen-in-Sneasel-guise’s flustered expression swiftly turned into a deadpan look, and he gestured to himself.

“Hmph! Do I look like some kinda bird? I know I’ve got feathers, but c’mon!” he grumbled lowly before rolling his eyes. ‘Chirps’ finished his piece of fish to bite down further complaints, but not without adding a small complaint to himself, “Could’ve nicknamed me something cool like Hotshot…”

When Alioth offered the tea, Chirps-aka-Hotshot-aka-Silver silently accepted it, grateful by the small distraction. He lapped the hot beverage with swift licks and sighed in relief, feeling the warmth spreading to his body. Relaxation flowed into his mind and quelled the flames of indignation, and he studied the spectacle of stars and smoke with fresh intrigue, a placid grin etched on his muzzle.

Silver felt so relaxed… way more relaxed than usual, which was so strange. He seriously hoped his mental state was because of some shamanic miraculous atmosphere and not because he was secretly tripping balls, but he discreetly pushed aside his tea just in case.

He thinned his smile and rubbed his chin to reclaim some semblance of coolness, and his brows lifted as he listened to the tale. Would you look at that: yet another human who had been dragged into Forlas and who partnered with a Pokémon! Jeez, what was with Forlas’ obsession with the species Homo sapiens?

Silver glanced at the Typhlosion. As someone who had to forge his own path after being adrift for so long, he could kinda understand the Nidoran boy’s struggles. “And… did they find a purpose for themselves at the end?”

 

[Chibi Pika]

Alioth gave Silver a knowing look. "Time will tell, mm?"

Within the dreamscape above, Nidoran and Ponyta sat in dejected silence as the bonfire and the Skeledirge sage were washed from the tapestry. The sun and moon rose and fell in succession overhead, but the two remained as though in stasis, the world passing them by.

'After such a blow, the young would-be heroes did not know what to do. Their confidence shattered, they resumed their efforts to help those they came across, but it wasn't enough.'

The two looked so small now, facing down conflicts that seemed to grow ever larger all around them. War parties clashed on the battlefield, and when the rain fell, there was no decisive triumph of good over evil, but only a scarred land, and the pair sitting forlornly at the center.

'"We made things worse," his partner admitted one night. "We were just trying to fix things," the boy replied, defiant.'

'And yet, their story would not end there. How could it, after they had come so far? And so the two hatched a plan. If they could not bring balance to the world by following the hand of fate, then they would defy fate, and seek out the means to change the world by their own power.'

A lonely mountain took shape at the center of a cold, frozen expanse, snowflakes drifting downward throughout the tent such that they almost looked real. And amongst the foothills, Nidoran and Ponyta pressed onward, intent on scaling it.