JFought
Sloooowly writing...
Summary: Liber is a big place, and Furik the Furret, adventurer extraordinaire, wants to explore all of it. But pointing to a location on a map turns out to be a lot different than actually going there.
I’m going to put the author’s notes in a spoiler tag this time, because I tend to ramble.
Finally, with my rambling out of the way, this fic is rated PG-13 for fantasy violence and troubling themes. More on the latter later.
Anyway, let's begin...
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Chapter 1 - Go to as many places as possible
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~~~
The furret looked off into the distance, at the vast plains, the rugged mountains, the clear rivers, and the town, sitting far on the horizon. A deep breath. “I… I can do this.”
The furret smiled. “I can do this!”
~~~
19th night, Fading Flower Moon, Month of Yagora, 1843.
The leaves rattled and the trees stirred. Screams echoed in the night, cutting through the darkness like light, but not as welcoming. A brown blur streaked through the undergrowth, away from the noise but nowhere near fast enough to outrun the sounds. A bag dragged across the ground, the insides violently lurching as the satchel bumped on every tree root and caught on every snag. The furret who was carrying it just hoped that the damage wouldn’t be too bad.
What did the guide in the last town say? Don’t get stuck in the forest at night? Well, so much for that.
So the furret kept running, hoping that he could reach the next town before the ghosts caught him first. He was pretty fast, he thought, so as long as he didn’t trip-
His bag caught on a particularly nasty snag, and he tripped. Well, so much for that.
The furret lifted his face off the ground and ran back to his bag. A hook-shaped root had dug into it and tore a hole. He freed it, and was about to continue running, when he noticed that a hole had also been torn in his wallet. How long had it been like that? He unattached it from the side of his bag and placed it inside as quickly as he could. But right as he was about to continue, a blue flame flared to life in front of him. And to his left. And to his right. And behind him…
“Crap…” The ghosts had caught up. A group of unidentifiable shapes, led by one trevenant. It’s six legs crawled creepily through the undergrowth as it slowly approached the furret, who tried to back away but was met with unnatural heat instead. He considered his options. Fight? With what? He had already tried earlier, but his moves didn’t affect them, and while maybe the dagger he had could work, he didn’t know how to use it effectively enough to fight against a wood spirit. Run? Through the Will-O-Wisp? He knew there was a river somewhere up ahead, as well as a town, but he didn’t know how far they were from here. The furret doubted he could make it very far with a burn and no way to cure it.
There wasn’t much time left to make that decision. The trevenant was within spitting distance now, and the ghosts were closing in.
So the furret decided on option three. Do both.
He put his paw on the dagger strapped to his side and prepared himself. The other ghosts closed in behind, but if this plan worked then it wouldn’t matter. The furret just kept his focus on what was in front of him. Then he drew his dagger and lunged.
The blade lodged itself below the trevenant’s eye. Before it could even screech in pain, the furret began to glow white. He catapulted off of the trevenant’s face using Quick Attack, and landed on all fours on the other side of the fire and ghosts. The ghosts began to shriek angrily; now was the time to run.
And now they were doing this again. The wind, the screams, the running, and the bag. How big was this forest, anyway?
A light began to come into view. Civilization? The furret didn’t stop. He broke through the tree line of a clearing and almost ran headfirst into a wooden wall covered in slips of paper. He placed a paw against it and looked around. To his right was an entrance! The chill running down his back told the furret that the ghosts were getting closer, and he responded by bolting towards the archway that marked the town entrance. Make the turn, and… safe!
The furret stopped running to look behind him. The ghosts soon showed up, led by the trevenant he used as a springboard earlier. It glared angrily from the other side of the arch, but upon trying to continue its pursuit, it slammed right into an invisible force. It glared at the furret, let out a deep rumble, and spat a wisp before turning around and leaving, taking the rest of the ghosts with it.
The panting furret felt a wave of relief, and let it linger for a few moments before looking around at the surrounding buildings. An inn was among them. “Good.” He tiredly walked over to it and entered.
“Hello there,” greeted a noctowl as he entered. “Did you get stuck in the forest?” The furret slowly looked over and nodded.
The furret, still breathing heavily, limped over to the reception desk where the noctowl sat. “I’d like a…”
“A room?” Mr. Receptionist hopped onto the desk and used a talon to handle a feather pen. “I’m going to need a name?”
“F-Furik… the furret…” Furik’s head dropped onto the desk. “Adventurer extraordinaire…”
The noctowl pushed Furik’s head to the side with a claw. “Right...” He then dipped the end of the feather into an inkwell, and held out both wings as he began to write.
Furik lifted his head up. “I’ve never seen a bird write before.”
“It’s quite a common sight in this part of Liber. You’ll get used to it.” Mr. Receptionist finished scrawling Furik’s name and put the feather pen away. He then hopped off the desk and put his head into a box, pulling out a key. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”
Furik stared at the key, then shook his head. “W-wait, don’t I have to pay?”
The noctowl placed the key down on the desk. “Guests who get caught in the woods at night pay in the morning. So don’t worry about it.”
Furik took the key and smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Receptionist.”
“Please. It’s Kenshin.”
“Oh. Thanks Kenshin.”
Furik wandered down the hall and found his room. It was a small one, with just a cheap grass nest, but that was okay. As long as he could sleep in it.
Well, he could sleep in it if the state of his bag wasn’t bothering him. Furik opened the satchel and dug out its contents. Wallet, berries (four oran, two pecha, one chesto), spare knife, and the list Furik’s mom gave him. So at least the contents inside the bag were okay. But the bag itself…
A wave of sadness coursed through Furik as he found each rip and tear. That bag was his most prized possession. And it’s not like he could replace it: it was homemade. By his parents, no less. Things only got worse when Furik remembered that his bag wasn’t the only thing to get torn.
“Oh no…” Furik opened his wallet to find that it seemed at least half as full as he last remembered it. The 1080 silver he carried over from the last town had shrunk down to… 740, Furik counted. He winced. “O-ow… That… is a lot….” But it could be worse, right? Furik could have lost everything instead, and while he did lose a little under half of his Poké, this was still more than enough to keep going on. “Still though, I should probably keep the wallet inside the bag from now on.”
Furik curled up in the nest and thought about tomorrow. He could replace the lost cash through requests, and the bag… well, maybe there’s a tailor in town. That’d be nice. He let that thought drift him into sleep.
---
20th day, Month of Yagora, 1843.
Sunlight beamed into the room and onto Furik’s face from an open window. He twitched a little, opened his eyes, then regretted it as the sun shone directly on them. How late in the morning was it for that to be possible?
Furik pushed himself up, performed his morning stretches, went to his bag, stared at it for a good minute, then slung it over his left arm so that it hid the dagger on his belt. “Ready?” Ready. The road to get here was shaky, but it was going to be worth it. This wasn’t just another town: this town meant something, and what it meant was an exciting prospect. “It took ten days, but finally…”
Tossing open the door, he wandered into the lobby and up to the desk, now occupied by a Floette. “Can I help you?” She twirled the yellow flower she was carrying impatiently, as if the moment Furik took to approach her was one moment too many.
“I came in during the night..?” Furik couldn’t help but stare at the flower she was carrying. He’d only ever seen floette carry white ones, though it made sense that there’d be other kinds too.
Ms. Receptionist stopped twirling and shifted the flower to the other side of her body. “Forty silver.”
“Right.” Furik opened his bag, then his wallet, and pulled out two gold Poké. “Here.”
The floette held up one of the coins to inspect it, found it to be real, then drifted over to the paper Kenshin used last night. She squinted at the writing on it. “...Furik?”
“Yeah.”
She muttered under her breath. “About as good as a furret’s handwriting can get I guess.”
“H-hey…” She didn’t have to be rude about it.
The fairy ignored him and dipped the stem of her flower into the inkwell, then crossed out his name. “You’re good.”
Furik stood straight and nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Receptionist.” The floette just rolled her eyes.
Leaving her bad attitude behind, Furik opened the door outside and let himself be taken away by the town he didn’t get to see last night. The design aesthetic was different from what Furik was used to: the buildings were primarily wood and the stone-tiled roofs pointed up, with contrasting reds and blacks that gave off a rustic elegance, or would have if the paint didn’t smell so fresh. Thin strips of paper were liberally attached to the white walls of every building. Furik inspected the one closest to him on the inn: whatever was written on it, it was all done in footprint runes. Weird.
Going down the dirt path that went along the center, and ignoring the small deviations that led to smaller groups of buildings, Furik wandered into the open market area. The circular plaza was ringed with stalls, and featured a stone fountain centerpiece depicting Cresselia. Pokémon milled about, browsing wares and making conversation. Furik suddenly realized how big the town was. He could count… five… eight… fourteen pokémon, not including shopkeepers. The morning hours weren’t nearly as active back where he was from.
According to the guide from the last town, this was Dakuro, the Dark River Town. Known for the forest and the atmosphere. And the river too. Though really just the forest; Furik wondered why it wasn’t called the Dark Forest Town instead. Then again, the guide did tell him to stick close to the river when navigating the woods...
“Stop getting sidetracked.” “The first thing you do when you get to a new town is look for the Traveler’s Office,” Furik repeated to himself. He walked around the plaza, briefly glancing at the wares of the stalls and making a mental note of which ones to stop by. Kecleon, Grovyle, and Shiftry seemed to have the best stuff.
On the opposite side where Furik had entered the plaza was an exit that led to a notably older part of town, with chipped wood and faded signs. A bridge crossing a wide river could be seen at the end of the path, but more important was the Traveler’s Office located right near the plaza. Furik couldn’t help but notice as he entered how similar it looked to an inn, with a reception desk located near a hallway filled with doors, and an all-around unconventional setup from what he was used to. But the essentials were all still there: a guide at the desk, a rack filled with maps for purchase, and one big map of the country on the wall.
One big map of a country that Furik had never been to. He wandered over and took it in. This was not the map that Furik was used to seeing up on the wall: a map of a long country, bordered by land on three sides and halfway on the fourth, otherwise known as Hivech. This one was a map of a land with borders only on two sides, with ocean to the east and the north side cut off by mountains. A map with no mountains otherwise but plenty of forest and hills, and a capital that floated in the sky.
This was a map of Prestin. The country not only built on, but also above the civilization it replaced. And on this map was the first big stop on Furik’s adventure through Liber.
Furik slammed on the reception desk. “What’s the best way to get to Soruku?”
“Gah!” The golduck Furik just addressed nearly dropped the book she was reading, and fumbled with it until it closed. “Dangit, you surprised me!”
“Oh, sorry.” Perhaps a sudden outburst wasn’t really necessary to ask that question.
“Ugh, it’s okay,” Ms. Guide reassured as she adjusted her seat. “Anyway, where do you need to go again?”
“Soruku Island!”
“Soruku Island? As in,” -- the golduck pointed upward -- “flying city Soruku Island?”
“Yes!” Furik beamed.
“Uh, you sure about that? They aren’t very welcome to outsiders up there.”
That was the second time Furik had heard that this month. “But I don’t care! Rule number four of the adventurer’s code!” He posed proudly with a paw to his chest. “Go to as many places as possible!”
Ms. Guide sighed. “Right. Well, Murosei over to the east has a ferry, but it isn’t exactly cheap.”
“How much?”
“3000 silver per passenger.”
“Thr-three thousand?!” It took nearly a year of saving up to scratch together the one thousand for Furik’s trip!
The golduck leaned back in her chair. “Told you they didn’t like outsiders.”
“H-h-how am I supposed to make that much..?” Furik started to feel woozy. Just getting to the first stop on this journey was starting to look impossible.
“You don’t.” Ms. Guide sighed again. “If anything, they’re doing you a favor. Soruku is not a nice place, from what I’ve heard.”
Furik wasn’t listening. “Maybe… Is there anything good on the request board?” he asked.
“Well…” Ms Guide seemed hesitant, but spoke up anyway. “There is one request that will cover it, but… you’ll see.”
Furik pushed outside and back into the street, turning around to face the two bulletin boards: one for news, one for requests. He glanced at every sheet of paper located on the request board. Lost item for 70, bounty for 300, domestic for 30, helper for 100, bounty for 10,000, escort for 90...
Furik nearly glossed over it, before doubling back and gawking. It was a wanted poster, dead or alive, for 10,000 silver. Enough to cover the ferry and much more. These kinds of bounties were only ever issued by the government, which meant the Pokémon must be especially dangerous. And for ten thousand…
Furik jumped up and tore off the paper, staring at the figure drawn on it. It was a black Pokémon, with white, billowing hair that covered one of its ghastly eyes. He hurried back inside to show the guide.
“What’s this Pokémon?” he asked determinedly.
Ms. Guide groaned and put her head into her arms. “Oh no…”
“What is it?”
She looked up. “Have you never heard stories about Darkrai?”
“Uh,” Furik looked back at the picture for a quick moment. “I don’t think so.”
“Geez.” She rubbed the base of her bill. “Darkrai is the Nightmare Pokémon. It causes those around it to experience terrible nightmares. And it’s a legendary.” Ms. Guide let that sink in. Furik seemed startled, but not startled enough. So she continued. “It first showed up in Yagora down south. It wasn’t too bad at first, just some complaints about nightmares. But then it started to attack travelers at night, and lurked closer and closer to the villages. And then, it decided to attack Ebeld. The town and everyone who lived there somehow managed to come out unscathed, but officials were spooked by how easily it caused chaos.” She paused to look at Furik, who looked down in turn. “You see why that bounty is so high, now? Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first to barge in here asking about it. And those guys come back as shivering wrecks, every single time.”
Furik kept his head down. Don’t pick fights with legendaries. That was on the list of 100 Things to Never Ever Do While Out Adventuring. The one his mom gave him. He knew about some of them, the terrifying things they could do and have done in the past.
“But I have to…”
“What?”
Furik looked back up. “I have to get to Soruku. Where can I find this Darkrai?”
“Did you… not hear anything I just said?!”
“I heard it, and I don’t care!” Furik leaned forward, paw on the desk. “Where is it?”
The golduck sighed. “Look, I admire your courage, but it isn’t worth it. Soruku is a terrible place for someone like you. You should take the fact that a legendary is getting in the way of that as a warning.”
A warning. A good one at that. Is it worth it? Is going to Soruku it worth it if a Darkrai counts as a warning against going there?
Well, if his blunder in the forest was anything to go by, Furik didn’t care much for warnings.
“You said that Darkrai has never killed anyone.”
“What?”
Furik stood straight. “Has that Darkrai ever killed anyone?”
Ms. Guide put a hand on the crest of her head. “Well, not that I know of, but-”
“So I can afford to fail. I’m going to try anyway, because I can afford to lose.” Furik knew that maybe the victims were lucky to survive, and Darkrai is fully capable of killing someone. But he was still willing to bet on that chance.
The guide searched for something else to say, but couldn’t find anything. She just stared at Furik. And Furik stared back.
“I can’t say anything to stop you, can I?”
“No. I have to get to Soruku.”
“But why?”
“Because I want to see it. I want to go up there,” -- Furik pointed to the star on the big map of Prestin -- “And say that I went up there. I want to see the world, and I will not skip any of it.”
“Word.”
Apparently a granbull walked in at some point in their conversation. “Crap, how long have you been waiting there?” asked a sheepish Ms. Guide.
“About when you two were having that staring contest.”
“Oh. Well, just let me wrap things up with the Furret first, I’ll be with you in a bit.”
“Sure thing.” And the granbull wandered off to browse the big map.
The golduck watched them for a bit, then turned back to Furik and sighed. “If you want to know where Darkrai is, all of the sightings from the past two days have placed it near Murosei.”
“Where the ferry is?” That was convenient.
“Yep. So if you really are committed to this, you’re gonna have to travel a bit.”
“Okay, that’s not a problem.” “Murosei is to the east, right?”
“Yeah, there should be an escort request up for it, so I’d say take that. Also, I have something that should help.” Ms. Guide ducked behind the desk and surprised Furik when she pulled out a thin slip of paper with footprint runes on it.
“I’ve seen those all over the place, what is it?” he asked.
“It’s a Cleanse Tag. It’s said to keep evil spirits away. And, well,” Ms. Guide gestured around her, “Clearly they work. Take it for good luck.”
Furik reached for the tag. “Thank-”
“Hey.” She pulled it back and waved it in the air. “Twenty silver.”
“Really?”
Ms. Guide put a webbed hand to her side. “They aren’t that easy to make, you know.”
“Fine.” Twenty Poké isn’t that much when you’re gunning for five-hundred times that amount. Furik opened his bag, reached into his wallet, remembered why he originally had the wallet on the outside of his bag, remembered he still needed to find a tailor, pulled out a gold piece, and exchanged it for the Cleanse Tag.
“Thanks for the business. And remember: there is no shame in running away,” Ms. Guide reminded. Furik knew that. It was his mother’s motto. It made it very hard not to remember.
So he just responded with a nod. “Thanks, Ms. Guide.”
The golduck went wide-eyed. “Ms. Guide? Y-You don’t need to refer to me as that. Just call me... Youko.”
“Oh. Well, thanks Youko.” Furik almost left, but remembered just in time. “Um, actually, I still have a question: is there a tailor in town? I kinda ripped my bag…” He patted the sorry thing to show it.
“Sorry. There is a tailor, but he doesn’t do repairs.”
“Oh… That’s okay,” Furik replied in disappointment. “I’ll see about Murosei when I get there.”
With a talisman and a ‘Good luck’ from Youko, Furik left the office. Chances were, he was going to need both of them.
Furik stopped after he closed the door behind him. “This isn’t going to be easy…” But then he shook the doubt out of his head, and began walking back towards the shops. “Of course getting to Soruku isn’t going to be easy, I knew that going in. It’s just... going to be a little bit harder than I thought it’d be. Only a little bit. Yeah, I have to fight a legendary, but I can do it. I will do it. I have to do it.”
Somewhere along the way, Furik stopped moving. “Wait, what was I doing...?”
Right, shops. He needed to stock up. For tomorrow, he was going to take that escort request and head off to Murosei.
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A/N:Kind of a short chapter. I'll probably do weekly updates from here on, so we'll see how that goes. Reviews and criticism are appreciated, and I hope this is something you can enjoy.
...
I’m going to put the author’s notes in a spoiler tag this time, because I tend to ramble.
This is somewhat awkward. Let’s get the facts out of the way first. This is a side project, as in it’s being worked on alongside another, bigger project. Originally, this was meant to come out much later, but I realized that the focus of the two projects are pretty radically different, and that Chronicles of a Furret would be better suited as a spin-off rather than a bonus. I also decided it should come out first, since it actually works as a really good lead in to the world and a couple of the themes in the main project. Why is this awkward? Well again, this was supposed to be released a lot later. And it might change a few things in regards to the main project. That, and I'm kinda procrastinating on releasing the main project because my confidence on it is still shaky. Tbh, that's pretty much the entire reason this is coming first. The rest is just me trying to justify it to myself.
Aaaaaaanyway, as I said, this is a spin-off. A spin-off that just so happens to have one-shots associated with it: A Game of War and The Evening Thief. You do not need to read either of those to get full enjoyment out of this. The most you’ll really get out of it is some extra context for the protag and world, and maybe a couple references. It'd help, but ultimately it shouldn't affect anything too much, so don't sweat it if you haven't. And obviously you don’t need to read the main project: it’d be very awkward if you did.
Next is the obligatory part where I comment on how weird it is to be starting up a chapter fic after five years, with my last chapter fic being kinda bad. Okay, I commented on it, let's move on.
EDIT 2022: Don't listen to the lies past me told in that first paragraph. This fic actually isn't a good lead in to the world, and I'd actually recommend that you not read it. Which like yeah I know, you've came this far and now I'm trying to scare you off! But like actually, past me didn't anticipate the ways that this fic depended on the main project, and some things here might seem like they lack context because of that. If you REALLY want to read this, I am physically incapable of stopping you, bar deleting the fic, which I'm not willing to do because I spent five years on this. I just felt the need to say it up front, because yeah, past me lied to you.
Aaaaaaanyway, as I said, this is a spin-off. A spin-off that just so happens to have one-shots associated with it: A Game of War and The Evening Thief. You do not need to read either of those to get full enjoyment out of this. The most you’ll really get out of it is some extra context for the protag and world, and maybe a couple references. It'd help, but ultimately it shouldn't affect anything too much, so don't sweat it if you haven't. And obviously you don’t need to read the main project: it’d be very awkward if you did.
Next is the obligatory part where I comment on how weird it is to be starting up a chapter fic after five years, with my last chapter fic being kinda bad. Okay, I commented on it, let's move on.
EDIT 2022: Don't listen to the lies past me told in that first paragraph. This fic actually isn't a good lead in to the world, and I'd actually recommend that you not read it. Which like yeah I know, you've came this far and now I'm trying to scare you off! But like actually, past me didn't anticipate the ways that this fic depended on the main project, and some things here might seem like they lack context because of that. If you REALLY want to read this, I am physically incapable of stopping you, bar deleting the fic, which I'm not willing to do because I spent five years on this. I just felt the need to say it up front, because yeah, past me lied to you.
Finally, with my rambling out of the way, this fic is rated PG-13 for fantasy violence and troubling themes. More on the latter later.
Anyway, let's begin...
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Chapter 1 - Go to as many places as possible
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~~~
The furret looked off into the distance, at the vast plains, the rugged mountains, the clear rivers, and the town, sitting far on the horizon. A deep breath. “I… I can do this.”
The furret smiled. “I can do this!”
~~~
19th night, Fading Flower Moon, Month of Yagora, 1843.
The leaves rattled and the trees stirred. Screams echoed in the night, cutting through the darkness like light, but not as welcoming. A brown blur streaked through the undergrowth, away from the noise but nowhere near fast enough to outrun the sounds. A bag dragged across the ground, the insides violently lurching as the satchel bumped on every tree root and caught on every snag. The furret who was carrying it just hoped that the damage wouldn’t be too bad.
What did the guide in the last town say? Don’t get stuck in the forest at night? Well, so much for that.
So the furret kept running, hoping that he could reach the next town before the ghosts caught him first. He was pretty fast, he thought, so as long as he didn’t trip-
His bag caught on a particularly nasty snag, and he tripped. Well, so much for that.
The furret lifted his face off the ground and ran back to his bag. A hook-shaped root had dug into it and tore a hole. He freed it, and was about to continue running, when he noticed that a hole had also been torn in his wallet. How long had it been like that? He unattached it from the side of his bag and placed it inside as quickly as he could. But right as he was about to continue, a blue flame flared to life in front of him. And to his left. And to his right. And behind him…
“Crap…” The ghosts had caught up. A group of unidentifiable shapes, led by one trevenant. It’s six legs crawled creepily through the undergrowth as it slowly approached the furret, who tried to back away but was met with unnatural heat instead. He considered his options. Fight? With what? He had already tried earlier, but his moves didn’t affect them, and while maybe the dagger he had could work, he didn’t know how to use it effectively enough to fight against a wood spirit. Run? Through the Will-O-Wisp? He knew there was a river somewhere up ahead, as well as a town, but he didn’t know how far they were from here. The furret doubted he could make it very far with a burn and no way to cure it.
There wasn’t much time left to make that decision. The trevenant was within spitting distance now, and the ghosts were closing in.
So the furret decided on option three. Do both.
He put his paw on the dagger strapped to his side and prepared himself. The other ghosts closed in behind, but if this plan worked then it wouldn’t matter. The furret just kept his focus on what was in front of him. Then he drew his dagger and lunged.
The blade lodged itself below the trevenant’s eye. Before it could even screech in pain, the furret began to glow white. He catapulted off of the trevenant’s face using Quick Attack, and landed on all fours on the other side of the fire and ghosts. The ghosts began to shriek angrily; now was the time to run.
And now they were doing this again. The wind, the screams, the running, and the bag. How big was this forest, anyway?
A light began to come into view. Civilization? The furret didn’t stop. He broke through the tree line of a clearing and almost ran headfirst into a wooden wall covered in slips of paper. He placed a paw against it and looked around. To his right was an entrance! The chill running down his back told the furret that the ghosts were getting closer, and he responded by bolting towards the archway that marked the town entrance. Make the turn, and… safe!
The furret stopped running to look behind him. The ghosts soon showed up, led by the trevenant he used as a springboard earlier. It glared angrily from the other side of the arch, but upon trying to continue its pursuit, it slammed right into an invisible force. It glared at the furret, let out a deep rumble, and spat a wisp before turning around and leaving, taking the rest of the ghosts with it.
The panting furret felt a wave of relief, and let it linger for a few moments before looking around at the surrounding buildings. An inn was among them. “Good.” He tiredly walked over to it and entered.
“Hello there,” greeted a noctowl as he entered. “Did you get stuck in the forest?” The furret slowly looked over and nodded.
The furret, still breathing heavily, limped over to the reception desk where the noctowl sat. “I’d like a…”
“A room?” Mr. Receptionist hopped onto the desk and used a talon to handle a feather pen. “I’m going to need a name?”
“F-Furik… the furret…” Furik’s head dropped onto the desk. “Adventurer extraordinaire…”
The noctowl pushed Furik’s head to the side with a claw. “Right...” He then dipped the end of the feather into an inkwell, and held out both wings as he began to write.
Furik lifted his head up. “I’ve never seen a bird write before.”
“It’s quite a common sight in this part of Liber. You’ll get used to it.” Mr. Receptionist finished scrawling Furik’s name and put the feather pen away. He then hopped off the desk and put his head into a box, pulling out a key. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”
Furik stared at the key, then shook his head. “W-wait, don’t I have to pay?”
The noctowl placed the key down on the desk. “Guests who get caught in the woods at night pay in the morning. So don’t worry about it.”
Furik took the key and smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Receptionist.”
“Please. It’s Kenshin.”
“Oh. Thanks Kenshin.”
Furik wandered down the hall and found his room. It was a small one, with just a cheap grass nest, but that was okay. As long as he could sleep in it.
Well, he could sleep in it if the state of his bag wasn’t bothering him. Furik opened the satchel and dug out its contents. Wallet, berries (four oran, two pecha, one chesto), spare knife, and the list Furik’s mom gave him. So at least the contents inside the bag were okay. But the bag itself…
A wave of sadness coursed through Furik as he found each rip and tear. That bag was his most prized possession. And it’s not like he could replace it: it was homemade. By his parents, no less. Things only got worse when Furik remembered that his bag wasn’t the only thing to get torn.
“Oh no…” Furik opened his wallet to find that it seemed at least half as full as he last remembered it. The 1080 silver he carried over from the last town had shrunk down to… 740, Furik counted. He winced. “O-ow… That… is a lot….” But it could be worse, right? Furik could have lost everything instead, and while he did lose a little under half of his Poké, this was still more than enough to keep going on. “Still though, I should probably keep the wallet inside the bag from now on.”
Furik curled up in the nest and thought about tomorrow. He could replace the lost cash through requests, and the bag… well, maybe there’s a tailor in town. That’d be nice. He let that thought drift him into sleep.
---
20th day, Month of Yagora, 1843.
Sunlight beamed into the room and onto Furik’s face from an open window. He twitched a little, opened his eyes, then regretted it as the sun shone directly on them. How late in the morning was it for that to be possible?
Furik pushed himself up, performed his morning stretches, went to his bag, stared at it for a good minute, then slung it over his left arm so that it hid the dagger on his belt. “Ready?” Ready. The road to get here was shaky, but it was going to be worth it. This wasn’t just another town: this town meant something, and what it meant was an exciting prospect. “It took ten days, but finally…”
Tossing open the door, he wandered into the lobby and up to the desk, now occupied by a Floette. “Can I help you?” She twirled the yellow flower she was carrying impatiently, as if the moment Furik took to approach her was one moment too many.
“I came in during the night..?” Furik couldn’t help but stare at the flower she was carrying. He’d only ever seen floette carry white ones, though it made sense that there’d be other kinds too.
Ms. Receptionist stopped twirling and shifted the flower to the other side of her body. “Forty silver.”
“Right.” Furik opened his bag, then his wallet, and pulled out two gold Poké. “Here.”
The floette held up one of the coins to inspect it, found it to be real, then drifted over to the paper Kenshin used last night. She squinted at the writing on it. “...Furik?”
“Yeah.”
She muttered under her breath. “About as good as a furret’s handwriting can get I guess.”
“H-hey…” She didn’t have to be rude about it.
The fairy ignored him and dipped the stem of her flower into the inkwell, then crossed out his name. “You’re good.”
Furik stood straight and nodded. “Thanks, Ms. Receptionist.” The floette just rolled her eyes.
Leaving her bad attitude behind, Furik opened the door outside and let himself be taken away by the town he didn’t get to see last night. The design aesthetic was different from what Furik was used to: the buildings were primarily wood and the stone-tiled roofs pointed up, with contrasting reds and blacks that gave off a rustic elegance, or would have if the paint didn’t smell so fresh. Thin strips of paper were liberally attached to the white walls of every building. Furik inspected the one closest to him on the inn: whatever was written on it, it was all done in footprint runes. Weird.
Going down the dirt path that went along the center, and ignoring the small deviations that led to smaller groups of buildings, Furik wandered into the open market area. The circular plaza was ringed with stalls, and featured a stone fountain centerpiece depicting Cresselia. Pokémon milled about, browsing wares and making conversation. Furik suddenly realized how big the town was. He could count… five… eight… fourteen pokémon, not including shopkeepers. The morning hours weren’t nearly as active back where he was from.
According to the guide from the last town, this was Dakuro, the Dark River Town. Known for the forest and the atmosphere. And the river too. Though really just the forest; Furik wondered why it wasn’t called the Dark Forest Town instead. Then again, the guide did tell him to stick close to the river when navigating the woods...
“Stop getting sidetracked.” “The first thing you do when you get to a new town is look for the Traveler’s Office,” Furik repeated to himself. He walked around the plaza, briefly glancing at the wares of the stalls and making a mental note of which ones to stop by. Kecleon, Grovyle, and Shiftry seemed to have the best stuff.
On the opposite side where Furik had entered the plaza was an exit that led to a notably older part of town, with chipped wood and faded signs. A bridge crossing a wide river could be seen at the end of the path, but more important was the Traveler’s Office located right near the plaza. Furik couldn’t help but notice as he entered how similar it looked to an inn, with a reception desk located near a hallway filled with doors, and an all-around unconventional setup from what he was used to. But the essentials were all still there: a guide at the desk, a rack filled with maps for purchase, and one big map of the country on the wall.
One big map of a country that Furik had never been to. He wandered over and took it in. This was not the map that Furik was used to seeing up on the wall: a map of a long country, bordered by land on three sides and halfway on the fourth, otherwise known as Hivech. This one was a map of a land with borders only on two sides, with ocean to the east and the north side cut off by mountains. A map with no mountains otherwise but plenty of forest and hills, and a capital that floated in the sky.
This was a map of Prestin. The country not only built on, but also above the civilization it replaced. And on this map was the first big stop on Furik’s adventure through Liber.
Furik slammed on the reception desk. “What’s the best way to get to Soruku?”
“Gah!” The golduck Furik just addressed nearly dropped the book she was reading, and fumbled with it until it closed. “Dangit, you surprised me!”
“Oh, sorry.” Perhaps a sudden outburst wasn’t really necessary to ask that question.
“Ugh, it’s okay,” Ms. Guide reassured as she adjusted her seat. “Anyway, where do you need to go again?”
“Soruku Island!”
“Soruku Island? As in,” -- the golduck pointed upward -- “flying city Soruku Island?”
“Yes!” Furik beamed.
“Uh, you sure about that? They aren’t very welcome to outsiders up there.”
That was the second time Furik had heard that this month. “But I don’t care! Rule number four of the adventurer’s code!” He posed proudly with a paw to his chest. “Go to as many places as possible!”
Ms. Guide sighed. “Right. Well, Murosei over to the east has a ferry, but it isn’t exactly cheap.”
“How much?”
“3000 silver per passenger.”
“Thr-three thousand?!” It took nearly a year of saving up to scratch together the one thousand for Furik’s trip!
The golduck leaned back in her chair. “Told you they didn’t like outsiders.”
“H-h-how am I supposed to make that much..?” Furik started to feel woozy. Just getting to the first stop on this journey was starting to look impossible.
“You don’t.” Ms. Guide sighed again. “If anything, they’re doing you a favor. Soruku is not a nice place, from what I’ve heard.”
Furik wasn’t listening. “Maybe… Is there anything good on the request board?” he asked.
“Well…” Ms Guide seemed hesitant, but spoke up anyway. “There is one request that will cover it, but… you’ll see.”
Furik pushed outside and back into the street, turning around to face the two bulletin boards: one for news, one for requests. He glanced at every sheet of paper located on the request board. Lost item for 70, bounty for 300, domestic for 30, helper for 100, bounty for 10,000, escort for 90...
Furik nearly glossed over it, before doubling back and gawking. It was a wanted poster, dead or alive, for 10,000 silver. Enough to cover the ferry and much more. These kinds of bounties were only ever issued by the government, which meant the Pokémon must be especially dangerous. And for ten thousand…
Furik jumped up and tore off the paper, staring at the figure drawn on it. It was a black Pokémon, with white, billowing hair that covered one of its ghastly eyes. He hurried back inside to show the guide.
“What’s this Pokémon?” he asked determinedly.
Ms. Guide groaned and put her head into her arms. “Oh no…”
“What is it?”
She looked up. “Have you never heard stories about Darkrai?”
“Uh,” Furik looked back at the picture for a quick moment. “I don’t think so.”
“Geez.” She rubbed the base of her bill. “Darkrai is the Nightmare Pokémon. It causes those around it to experience terrible nightmares. And it’s a legendary.” Ms. Guide let that sink in. Furik seemed startled, but not startled enough. So she continued. “It first showed up in Yagora down south. It wasn’t too bad at first, just some complaints about nightmares. But then it started to attack travelers at night, and lurked closer and closer to the villages. And then, it decided to attack Ebeld. The town and everyone who lived there somehow managed to come out unscathed, but officials were spooked by how easily it caused chaos.” She paused to look at Furik, who looked down in turn. “You see why that bounty is so high, now? Trust me, you wouldn’t be the first to barge in here asking about it. And those guys come back as shivering wrecks, every single time.”
Furik kept his head down. Don’t pick fights with legendaries. That was on the list of 100 Things to Never Ever Do While Out Adventuring. The one his mom gave him. He knew about some of them, the terrifying things they could do and have done in the past.
“But I have to…”
“What?”
Furik looked back up. “I have to get to Soruku. Where can I find this Darkrai?”
“Did you… not hear anything I just said?!”
“I heard it, and I don’t care!” Furik leaned forward, paw on the desk. “Where is it?”
The golduck sighed. “Look, I admire your courage, but it isn’t worth it. Soruku is a terrible place for someone like you. You should take the fact that a legendary is getting in the way of that as a warning.”
A warning. A good one at that. Is it worth it? Is going to Soruku it worth it if a Darkrai counts as a warning against going there?
Well, if his blunder in the forest was anything to go by, Furik didn’t care much for warnings.
“You said that Darkrai has never killed anyone.”
“What?”
Furik stood straight. “Has that Darkrai ever killed anyone?”
Ms. Guide put a hand on the crest of her head. “Well, not that I know of, but-”
“So I can afford to fail. I’m going to try anyway, because I can afford to lose.” Furik knew that maybe the victims were lucky to survive, and Darkrai is fully capable of killing someone. But he was still willing to bet on that chance.
The guide searched for something else to say, but couldn’t find anything. She just stared at Furik. And Furik stared back.
“I can’t say anything to stop you, can I?”
“No. I have to get to Soruku.”
“But why?”
“Because I want to see it. I want to go up there,” -- Furik pointed to the star on the big map of Prestin -- “And say that I went up there. I want to see the world, and I will not skip any of it.”
“Word.”
Apparently a granbull walked in at some point in their conversation. “Crap, how long have you been waiting there?” asked a sheepish Ms. Guide.
“About when you two were having that staring contest.”
“Oh. Well, just let me wrap things up with the Furret first, I’ll be with you in a bit.”
“Sure thing.” And the granbull wandered off to browse the big map.
The golduck watched them for a bit, then turned back to Furik and sighed. “If you want to know where Darkrai is, all of the sightings from the past two days have placed it near Murosei.”
“Where the ferry is?” That was convenient.
“Yep. So if you really are committed to this, you’re gonna have to travel a bit.”
“Okay, that’s not a problem.” “Murosei is to the east, right?”
“Yeah, there should be an escort request up for it, so I’d say take that. Also, I have something that should help.” Ms. Guide ducked behind the desk and surprised Furik when she pulled out a thin slip of paper with footprint runes on it.
“I’ve seen those all over the place, what is it?” he asked.
“It’s a Cleanse Tag. It’s said to keep evil spirits away. And, well,” Ms. Guide gestured around her, “Clearly they work. Take it for good luck.”
Furik reached for the tag. “Thank-”
“Hey.” She pulled it back and waved it in the air. “Twenty silver.”
“Really?”
Ms. Guide put a webbed hand to her side. “They aren’t that easy to make, you know.”
“Fine.” Twenty Poké isn’t that much when you’re gunning for five-hundred times that amount. Furik opened his bag, reached into his wallet, remembered why he originally had the wallet on the outside of his bag, remembered he still needed to find a tailor, pulled out a gold piece, and exchanged it for the Cleanse Tag.
“Thanks for the business. And remember: there is no shame in running away,” Ms. Guide reminded. Furik knew that. It was his mother’s motto. It made it very hard not to remember.
So he just responded with a nod. “Thanks, Ms. Guide.”
The golduck went wide-eyed. “Ms. Guide? Y-You don’t need to refer to me as that. Just call me... Youko.”
“Oh. Well, thanks Youko.” Furik almost left, but remembered just in time. “Um, actually, I still have a question: is there a tailor in town? I kinda ripped my bag…” He patted the sorry thing to show it.
“Sorry. There is a tailor, but he doesn’t do repairs.”
“Oh… That’s okay,” Furik replied in disappointment. “I’ll see about Murosei when I get there.”
With a talisman and a ‘Good luck’ from Youko, Furik left the office. Chances were, he was going to need both of them.
Furik stopped after he closed the door behind him. “This isn’t going to be easy…” But then he shook the doubt out of his head, and began walking back towards the shops. “Of course getting to Soruku isn’t going to be easy, I knew that going in. It’s just... going to be a little bit harder than I thought it’d be. Only a little bit. Yeah, I have to fight a legendary, but I can do it. I will do it. I have to do it.”
Somewhere along the way, Furik stopped moving. “Wait, what was I doing...?”
Right, shops. He needed to stock up. For tomorrow, he was going to take that escort request and head off to Murosei.
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A/N:Kind of a short chapter. I'll probably do weekly updates from here on, so we'll see how that goes. Reviews and criticism are appreciated, and I hope this is something you can enjoy.
...
...Huh. For some reason, I feel like a hypocrite. I think I know why, but the problem is that I simultaneously don't feel like a hypocrite. It's a... weird feeling, that's for sure. Hmm... Well, for now, I'll just have to deal with it, I guess.
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