Cynthia leaned forward, arms crossed over her knees, watching as Myst sketched a stick figure into the dirt. The bonfire flickered behind him, its light shifting and twisting his drawings into strange shapes. She studied them, trying to make out what they were actually supposed to be. Normally, she wouldn’t care what he scribbled into the ground, but something about the way he shaped the figure tugged at her thoughts.

  Before she could pin down why, he spoke.

  “So most people just… don’t care how their Pokémon actually do the frankly magical stuff they do?” His voice carried a genuine sense of disbelief, like he was struggling to wrap his head around the idea.

  “Yeah, they don’t care,” Cynthia muttered, half to herself. “You should see how the kids my age get when I bring it up. It’s not like I’m trying to explain something completely out there, I just want to talk about how type energy actually works. But nooo, that’s too theoretical, Cynthia,” she mimicked a high, girly voice before dropping into a deeper one, “No need for all that technical stuff, my Pokémon spits fire if I tell it to think warm thoughts long enough.” She threw up her hands in exaggerated frustration. “I swear most trainers think knowing ‘Flame Burst goes boom’ is enough.”

  Myst smirked, tapping the stick against his knee. “I mean, it does go boom. Sounds pretty much perfect to me, what more do you even need to know?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  Myst shrugged. “So you just gave up talking about it? What, don’t you have any friends willing to at least pretend to be interested?” His tone was light, teasing.

  Cynthia froze.

  Friends. She had those. Of course she did. It wasn’t like she was completely friendless. She wasn’t that bad. It was just… limited.

  She knew…

  Volkner. That was one.

  Well, they’d only met recently.

  And only once.

  But it still counted, didn’t it?

  It wasn’t like she couldn’t make more friends anyway; she was just selective.

  Honestly.

  “Of course I have people like that…” Her voice came out a little too loud, and as Myst’s brow furrowed in confusion, she pressed on. “But it’s not the same, you know? They don’t care, so it’s not any fun. You can’t actually talk about it.”

  Near the fire, Queenie let out a low growl, shifting where she lay curled up. She’d been sleeping, and Cynthia could tell from the lazy flick of her tail that she didn’t appreciate all the noise this late at night.

  “Anyway, what were we even talking about before this?” Cynthia continued lowering her voice while changing the subject as Myst focused on the Dragon-type.

  Nailed it.

  Myst’s looked back at her, expression settling into an odd half-smile, one eyebrow raised.

  Or not.

  But he didn’t say anything about her sudden change in subject, so she chalked it up to a win.

  “Eh, I think we were talking about Normal-type energy before we derailed ourselves?”

  “Yes, right, of course” Cynthia cleared her throat, regaining her composure, and put on her best lecture voice. “Well, as you suspected, Normal-type energy is believed to be the most fundamental of the type energies, closest to pure Aura. Compared to the others, it lacks any distinct flavour, which is why people named it the Normal-type.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” Myst said, nodding. “It just made the most sense to me. And, well… I kinda assumed it was something like that from how Normal-type movepools look.”

  Cynthia let the terminology slide. Movepool, one of those weird words Myst sometimes used to describe how many different moves a Pokémon could learn. It wasn’t technically wrong, and she had to admit, it was a pretty useful term.

  “Because Normal-types can learn a wider variety of moves than most other Pokémon?” she asked, tilting her head. She’d never actually looked up the numbers before, but the observation made sense.

  “Yeah, and it’s really not even close,” Myst said. “So, based on the idea that Normal-type energy was fundamental in some way, I started trying to train Rei in the elemental punches… Actually, have I even mentioned my idea behind how I trained her to use Type-energy?”

  Cynthia thought back to the incident earlier today and nodded slowly. “You mentioned something about concepts, I think.”

  “Right. You compared it to exposure training or something, but I think you misunderstood me.” Myst chuckled. “I didn’t just have Rei stare at a fire, tell her to ‘feel the vibes,’ and wait for her to magically figure out Fire Punch. That would be stupid. Honestly, how would she even understand those instructions?”

  Cynthia stared at him, realizing, belatedly, that he had actually thought she was joking earlier when she mentioned how most trainers acted.

  She considered correcting him… but kept her mouth shut. Let him figure it out on his own. It wasn’t like she wanted him to experience the same shock and horror she had when she first realized most people didn’t think about Pokémon the way she did.

  But, well… it would probably be good for him.

  Besides, he’d find out soon enough. Most trainers just tossed out a few vague instructions, think hot thoughts, hit that tree until it works, and hoped instinct would handle the rest.

  The thought made her bite back a smile, already picturing the moment his enthusiasm met the blank stares of people who just didn’t care.

  "No, by then, I had already helped Rei control Quick Attack by guiding the Normal-type energy in her body." Myst continued, his voice taking on a thoughtful lilt. "At first, she struggled with actively controlling the energy instead of just relying on instinct. So I had her figure out how she imagined the energy, then taught her to shape that image into a way to control it."

  "I applied that same idea when teaching her Fire Punch. I wanted her to develop her own understanding of Fire-type energy, something that felt natural to her, then integrate that understanding into her Normal-type energy directly. If the energy transformed, it would prove that Normal-type energy really is fundamental. And if something else happened and I had to find some other way to have Rei acting as a torch…. Well at least I knew, Win-win."

  Cynthia smiled at his phrasing but still turned his words over in her head. It was a pretty cool idea, but…

  Well, she could bring that up later though.

  For now?

  His idea was fascinating.

  “So that worked?” Cynthia asked, her eyes locking onto his face as he grinned widely.

  Honestly, it felt a little silly to be so focused on him. He looked more like a caveman than anything, his long, messy hair nearly reaching his back, his bangs covering his eyes almost entirely.

  Not to mention the scruffy stubble he had the nerve to call a beard.

  And yet… when he spoke, she found herself drawn in, pulled toward his words, his ideas.

  “Yeah! And guess what she landed on as her concept for Fire-type energy?” He laughed, almost deliriously. “It was—” He paused, then grinned. “Actually, guess.”

  Cynthia thought of the little rabbit, her soft, fluffy fur, the warmth she radiated, the way she bounced with boundless energy. What would fire be to Rei…?

  “Warmth?” she guessed. “Or maybe energy?”

  “That’s what I thought she’d pick!” Myst exclaimed. “But nope. She landed on… devouring.”

  Cynthia blinked.

  What.

  Myst nodded, twirling the stick between his fingers. “See, Rei doesn’t see fire as warmth or energy. To her, fire was something that fed on other things to grow. It was something that took to stay alive.”

  Cynthia glanced towards the tree where Rei slept, how did she come up with that.

  "I’ll be honest," Myst continued, "at first, I had no idea what to do with that. It wasn’t what I expected, and I wasn’t sure if I could even work with it. Compared to how she saw Normal-type energy, it was freaking weird. But I figured, if that’s how she understood fire, then that’s what we’d go with. So I told her to apply that concept to her Normal-type energy, to try and force it to consume the energy around it. And…"

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  His voice trailed off. He lifted a hand, wiggling his fingers meaningfully.

  “Fire-type energy just… formed. Right around her paw, clear as day. It worked.” He laughed, shaking his head. “After that, she could generate Fire-type energy no problem. That was the moment I knew I was onto something.”

  Myst exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. His grin turned a little wry. “Honestly, I think that’s why I was so bummed out when I thought I was just wrong. I thought I was making real discoveries, and then you showed up and invalidated everything I knew. I’d built everything on type energy being one thing, and then when I thought you said it didn’t even exist…” He trailed off for a second before forcing a smile. “Well. Anyway. That’s how I figured out Normal-type energy is fundamental.”

  Cynthia marvelled at his approach to the problem, right up until she opened her mouth and mercilessly cut his explanation down.

  “You’re wrong about that last part.”

  Myst blinked. “What? I thou—”

  “You didn’t prove Normal-type energy is fundamental by doing this,” she said, matter-of-factly. “All you proved is that you could transform Normal-type energy into Fire-type energy. I mean, you are right, and I can’t really fault you, but technically, you’d need to check if you could do the same thing with another type of Pokémon. What if a Riolu could directly transform its Fighting-type energy into Ice Punch?”

  Myst opened his mouth, like to argue, but Cynthia just raised an eyebrow. She was right, and he knew it.

  “Well, I mean, I am still right though?” He asked, shooting her finger guns.

  Cynthia sighed but nodded. “Sort of. Some types can transform directly, like Water-type energy into Ice-type, but for a lot of them, you need an extra step. For example, when a Riolu wants to use Ice Punch, it first has to transform its Fighting-type energy into Normal-type energy, then into Ice-type energy. And even then, some of its original energy lingers, it can’t completely get rid of its Fighting-type characteristics.”

  She paused, searching for a good example, before settling on one of the most common ones. “That’s why pure Fire-types can’t use Ice-type moves. The Normal-type energy coming from a Fire-type isn’t as ‘clean’ as the energy from an actual Normal-type, so it will never fully become Ice-type energy. Honestly though, take this with a grain of s—"

  Before she could say more, something tapped her back.

  She turned, blinking, only to come face-to-face with Riolu. His red-rimmed eyes stared up at her, looking utterly exhausted. He wobbled slightly on his feet, his expression as blank as it was judgmental.

  “Ah.” Cynthia suddenly felt a little sheepish. “It is pretty late, huh?” she whispered.

  Riolu exhaled sharply, pointedly, and motioned toward the tree. Following his gaze, she spotted Rei curled up beneath it, her small paws pressed firmly over her ears.

  Behind her, Queenie let out another low rumbling growl, this time of agreement, and flicked her tail with deliberate irritation, sending a puff of dirt into the air.

  Message received.

  Cynthia gave an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, alright. We’ll wrap it up.”

  Riolu gave a slow, approving nod before trudging back toward the tree, collapsing onto the ground without another word.

  Myst grinned. “I think that was a warning.”

  Cynthia rolled her eyes but lowered her voice anyway.

  “Yeah, you should have seen how Rei looked.”

  Myst grin froze.

  Hah. If she had to worry about her Pokémon being grumpy tomorrow, then he better suffer with her.

  ……………….

  “Cynthia.”

  She turned over, stubbornly avoiding the voice like it was the plague. It wasn’t morning yet. She hadn’t woken up on her own, and she couldn’t feel the warmth of the sun, that meant it wasn’t time to get up.

  “Cynthia.”

  She was an early riser. She was proud of that fact. Myst was just a freak.

  “Wake up.”

  So he didn’t need to drag her awake too!

  “Our food got stolen.” He hissed.

  Her eyes snapped open.

  Sleepiness vanished in an instant as she shoved Myst off her and bolted upright, gaze whipping toward Queenie. The Dragon-type was still curled up near the fire’s remnants, deep asleep.

  Food was stolen?

  No, the problem was much bigger than that she realized slowly.

  The backpack Queenie had been guarding, the one she’d seen her Pokémon curl around, the one with their food, her spare clothes, the first-aid kit…

  The one holding her completely irreplaceable Pokédex.

  It was gone.

  Cynthia stared, brain lagging behind the sheer impossibility of it. Someone had stolen from a sleeping Dragon-type. That wasn’t just bold, it was insane. Even sleeping, dragons were natural hoarders. Stealing from them was easier said than done.

  Her mind conjured up the answer almost instantly.

  “Sleep Powder.” She mouthed, eyes focusing on the shimmering dust laying over the dragon type.

  Myst nodded slowly. “Yeah, I tried poking her awake, but she’s out like a light. I guess it works even better when used on someone who’s already asleep.”

  Cynthia exhaled sharply, fists clenching. She’d read about it, but seeing it in action? That was different.

  Mostly because the creature who used it did so to steal her backpack.

  “We are tracking it down,” she said before anything else could be said.

  Myst hesitated. “I mean, I don’t disagree, but it’s the dead of night. Don’t you think it might be a little da—”

  Cynthia looked back at him.

  He immediately straightened. “I mean, yes, sir! Waking up Riolu for some tracking, coming right up!”

  ……….

  If there was one thing Cynthia appreciated about Riolu joining her before she set off on her Gym challenge?

  He was extremely good at finding things.

  Even among other Riolu, he was exceptional. His ability to sense and track with Aura already near a Lucario’s level. As long as whatever she was looking for had been lost within the last few days, he could always find it.

  Which meant he found the trail without a problem.

  Which meant they still had time to catch up.

  Which meant they had to have enough time.

  "Come on, Riolu, I know you’re tired, but we have to keep going." Cynthia urged, glancing back at him as he staggered through the forest like a drunk, barely upright from his interrupted sleep. Her heart twisted in her chest at the sight of his exhaustion, but she pushed through it.

  Riolu shot her a look, his droopy eyes clearly saying: Why are we doing this right now instead of waiting until morning?

  It was a reasonable question.

  Honestly, Myst had been right earlier. The first thing you learned as a trainer was to not wander at night. Your Pokémon were tired, visibility was terrible, and in general, everything was just out to eat you. There were no real upsides, not unless you were after a Pokémon that could only be found at night.

  So Riolu not understanding why she was this desperate made sense. He liked and respected her, could even read her emotions, but he couldn’t read her mind. He knew somebody had taken their backpack, but didn’t understand why that was such a crisis. After all, to him the most important thing in there was the food.

  The little red box was she liked holding, that she sometimes took pictures with and typed away at?

  It was barley worth a thought.

  But to Cynthia?

  It was important.

  No, that wasn’t correct.

  It was responsibility.

  Her grandmother had personally vouched for her, had assured everyone that Cynthia was responsible enough to handle it. That she wouldn’t do something reckless with one of only three in the entire region.

  Because the Pokédex wasn’t just a tool for cataloging Pokémon. It was a gift. A personal gesture from Professor Oak himself, meant to strengthen the bond between Sinnoh and Kanto.

  Losing it wasn’t just losing a Pokédex.

  It would mean proving everyone right, the ones who said she was too young, too inexperienced.

  It would mean disappointing her grandmother, the one person who had believed in her.

  It would mean losing something that was important to Sinnoh.

  So, she couldn’t lose it.

  She just couldn’t.

  The forest around them blurred as she pushed forward, practically dragging Riolu and Myst along with her. She barely registered the rustling in the underbrush until the attack came—

  A swarm of Nincada burst from the shadows, tiny chittering bodies scrambling over roots and leaves to cut them off.

  Cynthia didn’t even break stride. "Queenie, Dragon Rage!"

  A blast of searing energy swept forward, engulfing the Bug-types in a blue inferno. They screeched, scattering in all directions as the attack exploded their impromptu formation. Cynthia barely spared them a glance. They weren’t what mattered.

  She kept running, Myst panting desperately at her side, trying to keep up.

  Then his foot caught on a root. He stumbled.

  Apparently, that made him too juicy a target.

  Something lunged from above, a blur of deep blue.

  A Heracross.

  It dove straight for Myst, horn gleaming in the moonlight.

  But Rei was fast.

  The Buneary shot forward like a missile, ear snapping up to meet the Heracross mid-air.

  Fire Punch.

  Heat flashed, and the Bug-type crashed into a ditch with a strangled grunt. It twitched once, almost getting up—

  Then Rei landed another one.

  And another one.

  And another one.

  Cynthia should have commented on that. Probably. But her brain barely even registered it. Because her attention was locked onto something far worse.

  Riolu had stopped.

  His ears flickered. His eyes narrowed, flickering with confusion, like he didn’t quite understand what he was sensing.

  Cynthia’s heart dropped like a stone. Her stomach curled in on itself.

  It didn’t happen often, and she usually just chalked it up to her own fault, but sometimes, just sometimes, Riolu would lose track of an Aura signature. She hadn’t figured out why. Maybe the item was moving too fast. Maybe something else was interfering.

  No, no, no, not now, please not now.

  Myst’s voice rang out beside her. "Holy Cynthia, what’s the rush? I get you didn’t like losing the food and the backpack, but it’s not like we can’t find some more. If you want, I can even have Rei ask if the Staravia can hel—"

  She turned.

  Myst stopped mid-step. His outstretched hand hovered awkwardly a few centimeters from her shoulder.

  "We can’t lose that backpack, okay?" She managed. "I just—can’t."

  Myst’s arm snapped down instead, his hand closing around hers.

  It was only then that she realized she was shaking.

  He was looking at her, his expression serious, more serious than she’d ever seen him before. But when he noticed her reaction to it, he softened.

  "Okay, okay. It’s fine. We’ll find it, okay? Worst comes to worst, we can just spend more time on it. It’s not like we have anywhere to be, right?"

  The warmth of his hands grounded her, just for a second. Just enough to keep the dread at bay.

  “Yeah, your righ—"

  Riolu let out a sharp yip, eyes glowing as he locked onto the trail again.

  Cynthia spun around, not bothering to finish her sentence.

  They ran again.

  Five minutes of dead sprinting and shoving through thick foliage later, Cynthia stumbled into a clearing. The dense canopy above broke apart, moonlight spilling across the ground in pale silver beams.

  She let her eyes roam around, before snapping onto the center.

  A massive stump stood there, the remains of an ancient tree. Even in death, it loomed, larger than the one they had rested under earlier.

  But Cynthia barely noticed it.

  Because standing atop it, like a performer commanding the stage, stood their thief.

  A Roselia.

  But not just any Roselia.

  This one wore a tattered red scarf draped around its neck like a rogue’s mantle. It twirled Cynthia’s stolen backpack in one floral hand, the other resting elegantly on its hip in an unmistakably smug pose.

  Then—

  It bowed.

  Cynthia blinked.

  The Roselia tossed her bag into the air, letting it spin lazily before catching it again with a flourish. Then, with a theatrical flick of its wrist, it scattered a handful of glowing petals into the wind.

  “…Are you kidding me?”

  The dread in her gut fizzled into something sharper, hotter.

  Anger.

  “You—"

  The Roselia took her momentary lapse in concentration as a cue card and, before she could even manage to say anything it raised its bouquet hands.

  And Poison Powder exploded out from them.

  Queenie reacted instantly, a single overpowered Slash clearing the smoke…

  But it was already too late.

  The Roselia was gone.

  A beat of silence rang out in the clearing.

  Cynthia’s eye twitched.

  Myst let out a low whistle.

  “Hello, Roselia Hood.”