Time was suddenly meaningless. Nothing could be seen, but the stunning contrast between dark and light was nearly as effective as sight, if not more so. In every direction, far off into the distance, were a virtually infinite amount of blurred lights, many blinking out of existence only to be replaced by yet another.

A single light floated up from the darkness, to join the perfect middle between light and dark, such a small thing compared to the endless expanse, and yet carrying its own indescribable depth. Every other light seemed unreachable, but little did this shining soul in particular know that each and every one was not actually close. They were all individual and isolated, taking up their own pocket space of this void between life and death. Or rather, between life and what was beyond that, even further than death itself.

The ethereal, bodiless form taken on could never be accustomed, and so the flickering light began to waver in confusion and fear, as every single one of them did upon their first visit to Purgatory. It was impossible to understand what had happened, and in so doing, they left themself vulnerable to the presence that lingered above, that knew and watched over each and every single one of them.

The tiny, wayward soul could sense this being's Perfect gaze upon their entirety. The life they knew as the totality of their very existence was made infinitesimal to the One Above, as it peered into their deepest needs, knowing instantaneously the choice they would make. The choice that Purgatory offered every soul lingering there.

And so, seemingly as quick as they appeared there, the innocent soul began to plunge back towards the darkness, the presence around them slowly fading and the Light becoming a universe away.

💠💠💠

The senses returned all at once, overwhelming him. There was a small gasp that echoed around the metallic chamber, rising up through its heights until it dissipated into the outside.

A single, emerald eye snapped open.

Instinctively, he tried to steady his breathing. But there was no breath to account for. The gasp too had only been in mind rather than body, but he had yet to realize that. His blurry vision began to clear, and he saw mostly things he didn't understand. Dark, interconnected structures, with dense foliage covering the majority of it.

He was still trying to breathe, even if he didn't need to. There was barely any sound, with the exception of distant nature noises. His mind was full of disorientation.

After what seemed like ages, the confused boy tried moving, and finally stopped his attempts at breathing. It was beyond strange, not having to do one of the most basic functions of life and being completely fine. When he moved, he felt true sensation for the first time, again. A thin appendage dragged across the dirt and raised itself in front of his eye. He could only stare in silence as he controlled the mysterious thing, turning it over and realizing that nothing stopped it from turning. No bones to account for.

It was an arm made of what could only be described as silk. Black, with bright yellow accenting the end, and four "fingers" that were as thin as the rest of it. Paper thin.

He found another arm soon enough, but no legs. So, he used what he had to lift himself off of the ground, instantly falling back to it once feeling that he had no strength. He was leaned up against a rock, eye darting around to find anything he could use as a crutch. In the end, his new arm slowly wrapped around a white object he saw in the corner of his eye, lifting it to prop himself up. The object snapped, and he fell back against the rock once more. He grunted, surprised by his voice.

As far as he could tell, he had no mouth to account for, so the echoey, almost metallic sound he made almost made him think something else was nearby. There was no mistaking that it came from him, though.

Even more time passed, to the point that he nearly lost all hope. Whatever happened to him, he couldn't even begin to understand. With his focus lost, he could feel memories flowing back, so powerful that his single, green eye teared up. He whispered what first came to mind, closing his eye as his new body began to shut down for the time being.

"...Brother..."

💠💠💠

Over two months had passed. Life in Serene as a whole had to move on eventually, and so it has, but full recovery was still a far-fetched desire.

Xander usually woke up later than he used to, nowadays. When he was just a Riolu, he often woke up a few hours before the sun's zenith, to play down at the lakeside beach as his mother taught Rodney how to swim, who was just a toddler at the time. His father would join them closer to noon, preferring the extra sleep, which Veronica didn't mind. She understood that her husband wasn't the healthiest Lucario in the world, but at least back then he could carry a couple of giggling pups without the worry of back pain.

Rather than eat breakfast every morning like he would in the past, Xander would decide to skip it on occasion, thanking his mom as he walked to the door. Sometimes, she would look right at him and smile, wishing him a good day. Others, he couldn't help but notice the way she stared out the kitchen window to the backyard, at the grave Miss Renée helped dig.

Luckily though, this day felt normal. After he finished breakfast, he made his way to the door, calling, "See ya Mom, Dad!" before shutting it behind him. He was surprised to find that Sierra was at the door waiting for him.

"Hey, Xandy," she gave a small smile, having to rise to her tippy toes to give him a peck on the cheek. "Morning, Sierra," he smiled back, the two having grown closer ever since what happened. "What're you doing up so early?" the Lucario asked, as they began walking over to Jake's house.

"Early? If you'd look at the sun, you'd know how silly you sound," Sierra gently giggled, entwining her paw with his own as they walked. Xander gave her a confused look, before staring up at the sun and shielding his head with his free paw. Not too far from noon, it seemed.

"I guess you're right. Meh," he leaned on her a bit. "Sleeping in is nice. I can see now why Dad does it all the time." When they got to Jake's house, Xander knocked on the door, only having to wait a few seconds for the young dragon to come to the door. His eleventh birthday was just a week ago, and even with the still-apparent grief in all of them, it was a nice time. The best day all of them had had since the incident, because it was the first time since then that everyone actually came together. Even the other villagers.

"Oh, hey guys. Mom!" he called back through the open door, the Lucario in front of him thinking of how he definitely grew another inch or two. "I'll be out with my friends, 'kay?"

"Alright!" Miss Renée was heard calling back. "Just be back by dinnertime." And before he closed the door, she finally said, "love you!" There was a brief moment of hesitation, but he ultimately said "love you too" loud enough for her to hear. It was only right.

As the three of them walked across the bridge connecting Serene's residential area to the town square, Xander thought of bringing up Jake's mother. "So, you and your mom are getting along again?"

"Xandy!" Sierra gently elbowed him below his chest spike, making him grunt. "What? I can ask him a question if I want," he huffed in response, to which Jake simply lifted a big paw.

"It's alright. Mom and I are doing fine. We had a long talk a few days ago, after my birthday." The Druddigon closed his eyes, his friend smiling at hearing a satisfying answer. "Good. She's all you've got, after all." Jake nodded in agreement, briefly looking at Sierra. He wondered if she ever asked her mother about her father. Come to think of it, he never really talked with her about that integral quality of their lives that they shared.

As the three of them got to the village square, Sierra noticed a small grouping up ahead, near the gate. A few of the other villagers gathered around a figure that she couldn't quite make out. "Hey guys, what's going on over there?"

💠💠💠

Three days now. Three days that the awoken soul had already spent, lying against the rock where his life reignited. He knew because he could not sleep. He could merely register the lighting outside, the only trace of the outside showing through the opening on the other side of the building he lay in. Higher up, above what looked like a long-collapsed doorway. Even if he did know how to regain his mobility, he had no idea how he would make it up to that window.

But he had been experimenting the entire time. The reason he could not sleep was not due to his restless, confused, fearful spirit, but rather because he simply had no urge to. Exhaustion, just like breathing, had become nonexistent. The same went for hunger, thank Arceus. But with the lack of these essential needs, he felt that much less alive, truly alive. But, as he had accepted by the end of the first night, he would need to forgo any thoughts of that nature if he wished to get out of there. That was his greatest urge at this point.

Freedom. Even if he could not breathe it in, he wished to feel the air around him again. The warmth of a body was indescribably pure, but all he could feel was a chilling emptiness, and a heaviness he never thought possible. He wished to be light again. To be free of this weight, both literal and metaphorical. And the window was so close, yet so achingly far.

"I need to go home," he whispered to nobody in particular. It had been the key phrase he used to get used to talking again, and his hauntingly new yet familiar voice. He uttered it again and again, piling it onto his many other needs. The thoughts of his new body's heaviness struck a cord through his mind, especially. One that he had yet to understand.

Instinct. It flowed throughout the boy's silk arms, and the cold, lifeless blade that was his body. As he reached for the window, just a couple dozen feet away, he suddenly felt lighter. His urge for movement, for light, for anything stayed prominent in his mind as his blade slowly straightened towards his goal, and lifted from the dirt.

He was floating.

It was tricky to control at first, but quickly became like second nature as the boy's instincts and desires kept him afloat. Kept him hovering towards that outside light that he oh-so thirsted for. After a grueling amount of time, he was finally able to wrap his silk arm around a bar that protruded from the outside wall, using leverage and his newfound ability to hoist him up into the window.

The surrounding area was no less mysterious than the building he just escaped from. Towering buildings far beyond their collapsing point and covered by hundreds of generations of plantlife. They were larger than anything he'd ever seen. He could only stare in awe, sighting various mystery objects along the paths in between every building, making everything interconnected and whole.

But, between two buildings, he could see the sun. The direct, warm light felt alien to his perpetually cold form, and the lack of goosebumps further reminded him of his situation. He was alive, truly alive, and couldn't account for almost anything that signified actual life. Such thoughts were pain far beyond the physical, yet casting his gaze to the sun and its scope once more gave him that beautiful, ethereal sense of living that overwhelmed him beyond belief. With such clashing emotions, the poor soul began to weep his joys, and his griefs, all in one cry. A woeful, victorious cry that pierced the ancient ruins of a world he, nor anyone, really knew existed.

As he continued to lay his heart out to the horizon, the place he had come from was enraptured with its endless silence once more. Back near the rock where he was forced to stay for three whole days before his goals gave him flight, yet another mysterious thing remained. He had not even thought to check on what had snapped under his weight those few days prior, that he had attempted to use to prop himself up and have an actual chance at freedom.

It was an ultimately weathered arm bone, the body it was once attached to buried so far under the foliage of time that it would have been hard to notice in the first place. What a blessing, to completely overlook such a horror, so close to oneself.

After all, he had already been through so much.

💠💠💠

None of them had ever seen a Grovyle. Come to think of it, living in one place for their entire lives made seeing most Pokémon a new experience. Sierra was the most intrigued of the three, who had invited themselves into the worried group surrounding the stranger.

She wore a dark cloak, and was a surprisingly small thing, to the point that Xander assumed she was a kid like them. She sat on the ground, still attempting to catch her breath and even accepting a pail of water to drink from that one villager had so kindly offered. A stranger was such a rare thing in Serene that the peoples' otherwise odd fascination was purely curious.

"Hey, what's going on here?" the Lucario finally asked, getting a look from the male Talonflame villager, who hadn't noticed the trio until he spoke. "Oh, hello Xander," he spoke with familiarity. Xander enjoyed talking with the firebird from time to time. His name was Eraclas, although everyone simply called him Erac.

"Well, as you can see, we've got a guest. She came rushing in quick as a blur, nearly knocked my dear Alina from her feet!" he chortled, earning a playfully angered look from his partner.

"Sorry 'bout that," the exhausted Grovyle muttered, finally looking up at them all. She had large, deep red eyes under her hood, darker than blood. She took one last drink from the pail of water, graciously thanking the avian and scooting it back his way before standing up. She brushed her cloak off, and at full height, looked to be about a foot shorter than Xander and Sierra. She gave what could only be taken as a salute, one of her two-clawed paws at her forehead and the other over her heart.

"My name is Zathei, and I hail from Lively Town. This is Serene Village, correct?" After getting a few nods in confirmation, she continued. Despite Xander's initial thoughts, it was clear she was no child. She had a mature and formal tone, and certainly had the aura of an adult.

"My goal here as a professional soldier from the Lively military forces is to be a guardian of this village. With recent events unfolding, my-"

"Wait wait wait," Jake interrupted, catching the reptile's cold gaze. "Military? You mean like, for war and stuff? I thought such things were obsolete nowadays." Zathei nodded at his question, expecting one such as that.

"You're right in thinking such. It was like that for many, many years. Major settlements like Lively have rehashed their military only in recent years. With the hostilities between Baram and Capim, it is only right to prepare for the worst."

"They are at it again?!" a Raticate at her side huffed in anger, his son shrinking beside him a bit. "They were at each other's throats even before I came to Serene! Such a damned situation," he sighed, obviously peeved by the whole thing.

"Wait, you said you're here to be a guardian?" Sierra stepped forward, paws clasped at her chest. "You mean Serene could be threatened?"

"Technically, yes," Zathei answered bluntly, before her paw grabbed at her cloak. She pulled it back to reveal a small belt she wore, and a sheathe at her left hip, that held a sword of sorts. The villagers seemed overall surprised, some even scared, knowing full well the dangers of weapons, even if they were hard to come by.

"Which is why my commanding officer trusted me in ensuring your safety, as well as entrusting the safety of other Water Continent settlements to some of my comrades. Peak, Cavèrnis, etcetera, to name a few places. I honestly didn't even know this village existed until he told me to guard it."

"Well, it's only been around for fourteen years, right Xander?" Erac looked at the young Lucario. "Yeah, that's right," he answered before looking back at the Grovyle soldier. "I didn't expect everyone from the outside world to know of us, honestly."

"Outside world?" Zathei reiterated, looking slightly amused. When she got some bewildered looks, however, she had a sudden realization, amusement becoming genuine shock. "None of you know of what's been going on, do you?" Nobody liked the sound of that, especially the trio of youngsters.

"This might not be the best place to start such a topic," a voice from behind the group was heard, Jake looking back to see Ernest walking towards them. "Dad!" Xander gently exclaimed, happy to see his father out and about. That didn't happen much anymore.

"Aaand who may you be?" Zathei asked, the Grovyle stepping forward. Upon seeing their leader, the crowd decided to disperse, knowing full well he would take care of things. The older Lucario put his paw on his son's shoulder as they all looked at Zathei, the whole conversation feeling much more personable now.

"I'm Ernest, his father," he patted Xander's shoulder for emphasis, "and the founder of this village. Anything you need can come through me. It's been quite a few years since we had a visitor," he smiled, showing a hospitable nature. "Now come. No reason to stay near the gate like this."

About an hour later, after Zathei had introduced herself to Ernest and told him everything about why she was there, where she came from, etcetera, he offered her one of the vacant houses down the rise, near the intersection connecting various parts of the village. She graciously accepted his offer, after having a more serious and private talk involving her weapon. For the time being, she agreed to let him hold onto it, as a way of earning trust.

He only did this with her because she was the only newcomer with a weapon, and the first one to come from Lively Town. And the military, no less. Xander shared his skepticism with his father, but both kept their manners towards the Grovyle. She seemed distant, almost emotionless, but at the very least had a calm disposition.

As nightfall approached, Zathei had just about got comfortable in her new home, leaving her tattered cloak on her bed and looking around. She ran her claws along a wooden table, noticing the dust. Seems they built more houses than they needed. Her dark red eyes looked to the window. She had a nice, close view of the lake. A quiet sigh left her mouth.

"You're real far from home, Zathei," she told herself, almost longingly. But not longing for her home in Lively. She perked up from her thoughts when she heard a gentle knock on the door. When she opened it, there was a familiar shiny Braixen standing in front of her.

"Oh. Hello," she greeted with a blank stare, looking up at Sierra. "Hello. Would you mind if I come in for a sec?"

Zathei let her in, going to her room so that she could make her sheets as she talked with her first ever house guest. "So, Lively Town, huh?" Sierra broke the silence after a bit. "Yeah. Lives up to its name, I guess," the Grovyle shrugged in response as she smoothed her bed, looking at her cloak for a brief moment.

"You're not a fan of lively places, are you?" Zathei stopped for a second, sighing again before turning around. "Did you want anything?"

"Nothing besides officially welcoming you to the village." The shorter Pokémon's eyes lit up for a brief moment, as she kept Sierra's gaze. In truth, the shiny Braixen could sense that feeling of longing from her, ever since she noticed the lake for the first time. Sierra didn't suspect Zathei of anything malicious after that. Her genuine show of care was a great relief to the soldier.

"That's nice of you," she said, smiling for the first time since arriving at the village. She then got a look of remembrance in her eyes, before grabbing her cloak and unfolding it. She rummaged around in both pockets before taking out her closed claws, looking back at Sierra. "I only brought one thing from Lively. I don't know if you've ever had it, but..."

When she uncurled her claws, a small square of brown was seen. It was new to Sierra. "It's a treat called chocolate. It's only made in the capital towns. Try it, it's good," Zathei offered, a small smile still on her face. The Braixen curiously took it, looking at the simple brown square some more before biting half of it. Her orange eyes lit up in an all new way.

It was the best thing she had ever tasted.

💠💠💠

He didn't know how he knew what direction to go. The confused soul had been driven by nothing other than instinct, for the past week. He didn't have to go over oceans, but there were quite a few mountains he had to navigate around. On his travels, he saw a myriad of Pokémon, most of which simply looked at him before continuing on their way.

There was one that actually spoke to him, though. A Seviper whose name he was never told. He was nice, and showed concern for him like he knew that something was wrong, because the young soul didn't even realize that he seemed perfectly normal to strangers. He couldn't even begin to comprehend what had happened to him, and so he just kept moving forward.

But now, just off in the distance, was a lake that gave off a powerful sense of familiarity. Home. As the sun was setting behind him, the wayward soul carried on, various worries building up in his core.

💠💠💠

Xander walked in the door just as the sun fell over the horizon, not being able to help the smile plastered on his muzzle. Sierra's excited eyes stayed prominent in his mind as she went on about Zathei and something called "chocolate". It was the first time in two months that he saw pure joy in the shiny Braixen. A sense of wonder, even. It made his day.

Quiet chatter was heard from his parents' bedroom, which he walked over to. Once he peeked in the door, he could see that his father was sitting on the edge of the bed, heavily leaning over with his face in his paws as his wife held one of her mantis claw-arms against his back. "It's too soon. It's just too soon," the older Lucario anguished.

"Mom? Dad?" Xander opened the door more, poking his head in. "Oh! Xander, hello dear," Veronica gave a slightly forced smile. "Is something wrong with dad?" their son didn't skip a beat, showing his worry as he walked over.

"This damn old heart of mine..." Ernest wheezed, one of his paws moving down to grip at his chest. He lifted his head enough to look his child in the eyes. "Sorry, I don't want to worry you, son. But the news has got me a bit worked up."

"It isn't Zathei, is it?" Xander asked. "I know it's only her first day, and I don't fully trust her either, but-"

"No, no. Not that," his father interrupted. "The fact she's even here. That someone's ordered her to be here for our protection. We've been fine for fourteen years without fault!" His voice got louder and angrier, but he instantly regretted it. The backlash hit him hard, and he doubled over once more. His chest was searing.

"Dad, don't worry!" the young jackal said in his most optimistic tone, trying to make light of the situation. "If we were really in danger, don't you think they'd send more than just one Pokémon to protect us? I just think it's neat that we're even known to the outside world! The way...well, the way you guys have taught me, I thought we'd be too small a village for that."

"Yes, well we thought that too, dear," his mother chimed in. "Now don't you worry either. Go on and get ready for bed, I'll take care of your father like usual, alright? Maybe tomorrow we can all formally welcome Zathei into the village."

"Okay mom!" Xander said, satisfied. He then gave his parents a big hug before leaving the room, and once more leaving them to their thoughts. Veronica found herself tearing up at a lingering mental image of what a kind young man Rodney would have grown up to be. She quickly wiped at her eyes with her free claw. "You think it was Noah who sent her?" she asked quietly.

"Who else could know about this place?" Ernest answered, a small smile on his face. "Well, if so, I'm glad he's looking after us. Too bad we couldn't keep in touch."

After a long moment of silence, as the tightness in the old dog's chest began to simmer with his emotions, he spoke even quieter. "We need to tell Xander sooner or later. If we wait any longer, we'd be terrible parents, Vera."

He heard her stifle back a sob, his heart feeling more heavy than tight, now.

About an hour later, the village was completely quiet with slumber. In a neighboring house, however, Sierra and her mother Roswyn were still awake, talking away. The purple foxes were practically twins when it came to conversation, the older only not being as chipper as her daughter. Ah, to be young and sprightly again.

"You already seem quite fond of this new Grovyle character," the shiny Delphox mused, sipping tea with an elegance that her daughter always envied, yet could never replicate. "Just don't share too much with her, alright hon?"

"Why's that, mom?" Sierra asked, genuinely confused. Unlike Xander and Jake, she found it harder to understand mistrust before trust could even be put into play. The concept of deception, and wickedness in the hearts of those she didn't even know.

"Because you have to learn how to value safety, Sierra," Roswyn started. "Your undying faith in others is quite charming," she smiled, cupping her daughter's cheek with a delicate paw. "But that faith is not always deserved. Neither you nor I could know exactly who deserves it and who does not, but that is a given in life. And so it is best to learn first, and then decide whether to put that trust in someone or not. Can you truly say you know enough about this Zathei lady to put your full trust in, on only your first day of knowing her?"

"No..." Sierra admitted, feeling a little embarrassed. "But so far, she seems nice. That's all I really have to go on."

"And so embrace that until you are confident in your trust, my dear. There is no harm in caution, and too much risk in blind faith. Cherish that lesson when you go out into the world."

"I will, mom," the shiny Braixen said confidently, earning a head pat from her mother. "That's my girl. Now let's talk about that cute boy you have been inseparable from as of late."

"W-What?! Mom!" the younger fox's face reignited with embarrassment, Roswyn laughing heartily as she playfully teased her daughter.

"You know who Xander is," Sierra pouted, crossing her arms. "Of course, of course," the Delphox continued to quietly chuckle to herself, until finishing her tea. She gently set her teacup on the table, closing her orange-yellow eyes and giving a sigh as she thought. "It is a shame what happened to Rodney. I do not know why, but I have been thinking of him as of late. And you still seem distraught over it, Sierra. Would you care to talk about it?"

The Braixen was quiet for a while, surprised to find out her mother could still sense her prolonged grief. That's psychic types for you, after all. There was just this metaphysical bond between them, it seemed, ever since Sierra evolved, to the point that sometimes they didn't even have to talk to understand each other. Was that really because of their psychic nature, though?

"Then I suppose it is bedtime, already," Roswyn said after sensing the younger fox's apprehension. "Perhaps another time, yeah?" she asked. "Yeah, mom, that's fine. I guess I just need more time."

"And that is perfectly fine, Sierra. Never rush your grief."

As the mother-daughter pair readied for bed, Xander was having trouble falling asleep. He had been lying awake in bed for nearly an hour now, frustration sinking in alongside his restlessness. What happened today excited him, admittedly. He wanted to ask Zathei so many questions, despite his initial suspicions of the Grovyle.

After another grueling ten minutes of just staring up at his ceiling, the Lucario was about ready to get out of bed and get a drink of water, do some stretches, anything to make him tired. But his ear twitched at a foreign noise, and Xander's aura became more alert.

But before he could even sit up, he saw a green shimmer in the corner of his eyes. A shadow quickly loomed over him, and alertness transformed into terror. Before the jackal could shout in fear, a dark tendril from the shadow quickly wrapped around his head, sealing his mouth shut and muffling his screams to where it was pointless. But he kept trying anyway, now in a fight or flight situation and just trying to do one or the other.

"Please stop...please, I don't wanna-" a quiet, shaky voice rang in his ears, coming from his attacker. They sounded a lot more scared than he felt, but that could have easily been a trick. A feigned innocence. At that moment, they were a strange Pokémon in his room, and he was a terrified boy who just didn't want to die.

After a minute or two of struggling and realizing that he hadn't actually been harmed yet, Xander looked back up at the single, green eye that stared down at him with emotions he couldn't quite understand. Staring into his attacker's eye, however, gave him goosebumps of familiarity.

"Xander, you're...you're calm? You w-won't scream or anything?" They knew his name, which was a bit of a reliever. After thinking for a second, he gently nodded, soon feeling the unsettlingly silky appendage around his head loosen and return to the shadowed figure.

Upon seeing that the Lucario was staying true to his word, the figure backed up to the end of the bed, giving Xander a chance to sit up so that he could fully see the stranger against the moonlight outside his window.

He was summarily a large, floating sword. His blade was black and red, and he had two wide, thin black/yellow arms that seemed to be made out of silk. He also had a big shield with matching colors, currently held against his blade. An Aegislash, and a shiny one at that. His single, shining emerald eye especially made him stand out, and still gave Xander chills of familiarity that were beginning to irritate him. "Who are you?" he asked quietly.

"I-I didn't wanna see mom or dad first! I didn't wanna scare them, I-I didn't wanna scare anybody. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." they said quickly and tearfully, covering their eye with one arm. Suddenly, his young voice was so much more familiar, making the Lucario's fur stand on end at this point.

"Rodney?!" he nearly shouted, his answer coming in the form of a sniveling hug that the living sword forced him into, loudly crying into his big brother's shoulder. His cries were metallic and echoey, giving them a haunting vibrato. In shock, Xander couldn't will himself to hug back, especially with Rodney's silk arms squeezing him so tightly.

At the core of his being was a frightening clash of emotions, some of which he didn't realize he had. This moment, this purely wonderful and grave moment, was the true start to things to come.