From the Vast (Pokémon Fanfiction)

*yaaaaawn*

I lay still as the last of my half-remembered dream fades away. The bed is so soft; I don’t wanna move, but today is too important to sleep through—not to mention I’ve likely already slept for much longer than usual... though, maybe not, considering how late I stayed up last night.

I blink my eyes open, groaning at the light flooding the room through the opened sunroof, before reaching for the glasses in the corner. Used to worry a lot that Cadence or Elric would accidentally step on them when waking up, but they’ve gotten better and better at being mindful of them over time.

Specs on the nose, feet on the ground—time to get up. I roll my shoulders and stretch as I walk to the small, wrapped bundle stuffed in the corner, behind all my stuff. Yep, still there, still should have everything I need. Now to clean my glasses, change into something fresher, and fill my stomach. I almost never wake up first, but with how quiet the burrow is right now, I may have just woken up last, hah.

…and considering neither mom nor Cadence woke me up at the normal hour, they probably realized I’ve stayed up for way too long. And here I thought I managed to be all covert and stuff, slowly polishing and painting under the candlelight.

Oh well.

I wave to the Gliscor sitting at the table as I step into the living room, and he waves back. Hah, wouldn’t have ever thought his sight would become so mundane with how memorable our first meeting was. I might’ve listened to Elric hype himself about his dad waking up from his hibernation any day now, but when suddenly it was just me, barely able to string together a sentence in the village’s language and a freshly awoken bat my size, I can’t deny that my fears kinda got the better of me. Ehh...

We apologized to each other afterward, even if it took for him a while to come to terms with everything that had happened, and for me to unlearn that knee-jerk fear response ingrained in me so many years ago. And so, a fearsome, flying apex predator turned to ‘Riddick’, just like his son had turned to ‘Elric’ a few months ago. Just like everything here, in this wild corner of the woods, it had turned from shocking and intimidating to just... normal.

Him living with us is normal—it’s his house, after all. As is none of my living family being human anymore—yeah, that’s just how things are. Of course, I still think back to it all sometimes, snap myself out of that daze of normalcy every once in a while to realize how... lucky I am to even be here and give everyone their appropriate share of affection.

It’s such a wonderful feeling, every time.

I dump a few leftover pieces of fried berry dough and take a seat at the table, opposite of Riddick. I’m about to start mindlessly snacking on them while letting my thoughts wander away before I remember the physical therapy, groaning under my breath. My left arm has gotten better, a lot better even, requiring just a long sleeve as opposed to a stiff cast, but... it still hurts a bit. Hurts to use, hurts to work through that pain and get it back to something approaching full strength again.

Sucks, but... such is life.

As my left hand grabs the second piece of the dough, the makeshift door opposite to the kids’ room opens, and out walks Geiger. Nope, I wasn’t last, guess at least I have that silver lining. “Morning, Anne!” he greets me. I’ve gotten better at understanding his gruff, low voice, but it’s still a struggle to determine the exact tone he’s using sometimes.

I’ll get there, I’m sure of it.

“Hello, Mr. Geiger!” I reply, stringing sounds that once sounded like utter gibberish but are increasingly creeping into the corner of my brain that houses Unovan.

“Retain awake long you, eh?” he asks while sitting down.

I roll my eyes as I piece the meaning together. Guess Autumn has sensed it too and told him, heh. “True. Retain awake because important I. Much important.” I try defending myself, getting a roaring laugh out of him.

“Tell that me Autumn. Work about important long you, eh?”

Indeed, I’ve been working on this... project of mine for a while now. I didn’t think it would be half as difficult as it turned out to be when I started, but in my defense; I knew exactly nothing about woodworking when that idea first struck me. And now, almost a month later, I know just a touch above exactly nothing, but have somehow finished that project!

Well, almost. Today’s the day.

“Yes, Moon now. Want do all I. Did almost all I. Help planks with dad.”

He grins at me as he grabs his portion of fried dough, responding, “Great work! Today more?”

My left hand brushes the bottom of the bowl as it reaches to grab another treat on autopilot, alerting my eyes. Yep, breakfast is done, no time to waste. “Today last, hope I.”

“Great great! Day which now?” Geiger asks for the date. I’ve been trying to keep track as much as I can, but considering the village has no concept of a ‘week’, or even a non-Lunar month, the human dates are neither important nor very helpful. 

Heck, most birthdays get rounded to the nearest full or new moon, and that's if the person in question even observes them. Bell's is coming soon, mine was a few months ago. I wasn't even planning on telling anybody, but Ember spilled the beans for me. We ended up taking rounds drawing each other and seeing who could do it the funniest. No gifts, but none were needed—I already got the best gift I could've ever asked for.

It may not be useful here, but I still keep track of the human date, even if just for myself. I answer, “Day sixteen, Moon five.” Day of the week, unfortunately unknown; I’ll have to check the calendar Mrs. Graham gave me.

“Thanks, Anne,” he replies. One of the few pieces of grammar I’ve gotten a full grasp on already, and which is reasonably easy to make out, no matter who’s speaking it. I dash back into the kids’ room to put my shoes on before turning for the entrance to the burrow. As I walk up the steps, he sends me off. “Great luck, Anne!”

I don’t think I’ll need it, but it’s appreciated all the same.

---

Dad works at the other side of the village—still just a fifteen-minute walk tops, but a quick jog never hurts. My left arm aches a bit with each step as I make it through the busy streets, responding in kind to whoever greets me. Not everyone, but it’s fine.

Even if it took me a good while after I started settling in here to really make peace with that.

Not everyone is or will be friendly, but it’s fine. That would also be the case if I lived in an all-human village instead. Some people are just cold to most others, some aren’t very emotional, some even dislike me for more or less justified reasons. But it’s fine—there are many people here that are fond of me, and even some that are outright gregarious whenever I run past—

“Beautiful morning, Anne!” Holly squeaks at me, making me jump a bit. There were at least five words in that sentence I didn’t make out at all, and if there’s anyone in the entire village that I don’t think I’ll ever understand in full, it’s probably the Azumarill.

Thankfully, with her, all I need to know is the gist, anyway. “Morning Holly!” I reply as I jog on, wordlessly turning down her offer for a freshly baked treat.

A rare enough occurrence for her to realize its importance, sending me off with a nod as I turn the corner. Anyhow—yes, not everyone will be friendly with me, and I try to keep that in mind. Sometimes I really succeed at that, and sometimes... and sometimes I can indeed only try.

A brief chill runs through me as I look around, slowing down to get a better grasp of my thoughts. I don’t have that positive attitude down pat, not yet, and a part of me doubts I ever will, especially to a level where maintaining it won’t involve a lot of active effort. Mom described it once as tending to my thoughts as a garden, being aware of what’s growing in there, and plucking the stuff I don’t want.

It’s still not easy, but it has gotten easier, especially with Ember and Autumn taking me on walks around the village all the time. The former were always r-really nice, heh... a-anyway. I doubt I’ll ever be a social butterfly, but each weed with the words “they will hurt me” written on it I pull out makes the impulse to retreat to my room and hide forever that bit weaker.

Still doesn’t mean I’ll stop turning the other way whenever I see Hawthorne anytime soon, though. Even with Autumn’s reassurances that she has been slowly mellowing out. I’ll believe it when I see it. And... yes, ‘Autumn’.

I switch to deeper breaths as I stumble upon the thought, determination filling my every step. Yes, still ‘Autumn’ and not ‘grandma’. Aria clicked, Garret clicked, even Marco clicked, but... but not Autumn, not yet. It’s hard to reuse that label for someone else after all this time. I’ve been hoping my current project will help with that, and hopefully, I’ll find out soon.

I hear familiar squeaks as I run past the nursery, first from Jovan and Pearl, followed by all the tykes under their watch, Bell included. I’m glad they don’t mind me being late, but alas—I’m not heading there, not today. I call back, “Today not, sorry!” as I turn the corner, chuckling under my breath at the disjointed choir of disappointed groans I receive in response.

As mixed as my reception has been in the village as a whole, most kids really seem to like me—and so do their caretakers. Suppose being a kid more than old enough to look after myself makes watching over the toddlers that much easier for them, even if I’m no better with the village’s language than the little ones. Not yet, at least. Who knows, maybe once I get more fluent, I might start helping them out in a more formal way? I already have to double as a third caretaker sometimes; I sure wouldn’t mind making that more than just a running joke between myself, Pearl, and Jovan.

Ow, left arm is reminding me why I don’t jog often. I finally relent, dropping my pace to a calm stroll as I try to massage the aching limb a bit. I don’t think it’ll ever feel normal again, just like I don’t think I’ll ever feel normal again. It’s better on some days than others. Sometimes it feels almost like it did before my accident, other times I have to put it in a sling and bear through until mom or Autumn can help numb it.

Just like sometimes I can be out and running about, and sometimes my mind decides to make me relive being stuck in that tent, blind, cold, and defenseless, with strangers arguing about whether I should be allowed to live. Sometimes no matter how much tending to my thoughts I do, it’s not enough, and I spend the day drawing or reading in my room, often with Ember keeping me company.

But each month, these days get rarer and rarer. I don’t think they’ll ever leave me, but it’s okay—I’m still getting better. What awaits at the other end of a rough patch is always worth it.

As I approach dad’s work site, the usual chatter gives way to the bangs of felled trees and whines of blades, be they natural or crafted, turning the timber into construction material. We’ll need a lot of it, especially with the start of our big move creeping closer and closer. It’ll probably take months, if not years, to complete, but the tension in the air is already palpable.

I’m so glad Mrs. Graham has been helping us out with it. She’s helped us scope out where to move to—a nondescript stretch of woodland a few dozen miles away from here, and well distanced from even the most rural of roads. Not a national park, and not being used for any hidden military compounds, either.

And yes, we had to send someone and check that last one to be sure.

She even suggested a way to repel any humans that had ventured over there for some reason. Mon intimidation works, but so does legal intimidation! Nothing a wire fence perimeter and a few ‘Private Property’ and ‘No Trespassing’ signs can’t accomplish.

Mom has been trying to keep me at an arm’s length from any discussion about the specifics of the move, which I suppose I can understand. It’s a lot of responsibility, and Mrs. Graham is already helping our village out with it; I don’t need to be burdened with the weight of it all.

Doesn’t mean I don’t get curious, though. Heh.

I remember how glad Mrs. Graham was when mom helped me visit her for the first time after I ended up here. Hard not to smile as I think about this, think back to how relieved she was to see me again, more than I’ve ever seen her be—and how happy Leo and Luxie were, too. Mrs. Graham even came up with a rumor to make my future visitations much safer!

No, I didn’t disappear, of course not! CPS just rescued me and gave me a new identity! I now live far away, and only come back and visit sometime, keeping myself from being recognized. It’s not a very believable rumor on its own, and I remember I couldn’t stop laughing when she told me it had worked, but her explanation made sense.

It didn’t have to be believable, it just had to be something Mylock already wanted to believe to soothe its conscience.

I've been helping mom learn Unovan, too. A few other people have expressed interest as well, but only she has really meant it seriously so far. She sounds really funny when she tries to speak, and she's still getting the hang of connecting sounds to letters, but she's trying her best, and it just makes me so happy every time. I'm proud of her.

“Anne!” dad greets me with a loud growl, all words but my name lost in the noise. I look over, catching him pulling out a stubborn tree stump with nothing but raw strength, a sight that has gone from terrifying to awe-inspiring the longer I’ve known him.

I wait until he’s placed the mass of soil and roots off to the side, ready to be processed for whatever usable wood we can get out of it, before walking up to him. I say, “Hey dad! Wood where?”

He blinks at me in brief confusion as his individual hairs shake off loose dirt before the realization clicks together for him. He points over to a pile of logs and planks at the edge of the clearing and explains, “There, behind tree they. Is home nails, hammer?”

“Yes! Thank you!” I answer, glad I remembered to grab everything else I’ll need for this yesterday.

“Great! Love you Anne, I!” he growls in response as I lift the small bundle of planks up. Another piece of grammar I’m glad I already know well. It’s just words, but...

“Love you dad too, I!”

His smile each time I get it right is worth all the learning effort in the world.

---

After I finish moving the materials over behind our burrow, I finally have everything needed to put this project together. Three carefully measured planks, a few nails, a stone hammer, and a wooden plaque I’ve been painting, burning, and chiseling for almost a month now. It’s—it’s hard to look at the latter without getting a bit emotional, but I persevere. I’m so close to finishing this; of course I persevere!

I bolster myself again and again, but each time the wetness in my eyes creeps over faster and faster. It’s hard, but I push on. My left hand hurts from holding the planks while I hammer the nails in, but I push on. I’m so close. At last, the final piece of scrap metal, arguably diligently forged by Mikiri, is in. I give the entire assembly a brief shake, and it holds fast.

Now, the hole.

Nothing quite like a human spade in the village, but I make do with a broken piece of pottery. I marked out the right spot for this a couple of weeks ago; now all that’s left is digging up a hole. Even my good arm aches by the time I make it half a foot in, but I know I have to keep going for a bit longer than that—don’t want something I’ve spent so much time working on to be destroyed by the first stiff breeze that rolls around.

Alright, this should be enough. I pant as I stand back up, arms shaking in exhaustion. They want rest, especially the left one, and they’ll get it soon, so very soon. I lift my project with all the strength I can muster, carrying it upright until it’s hovering above the hole. I take a moment to line it right and lower it—fits almost perfectly, only scraping a bit of dirt off from the sides.

I grunt as I hold it still with my left hand, the right one busy filling the hole with soil. I need to use less and less force to hold it steady until, at last, it stands on its own. A relieved sigh leaves me as I try to fill in as much dirt as I can, stamping it down to make sure it holds my project as firmly as possible.

And then; I’m finally done.

I lay the pottery shard and the hammer off to the side as I catch my breath. A part of me wants to scuttle away, to take my time until I’m no longer winded, maybe even delay doing what needs to be done until tomorrow—but I stop it in its tracks. It’s okay if I’m winded, it’s okay if I’m not at my best, things will be alright.

I hope Grandma won't mind.

I wipe my hands as I walk back over to the grave marker, shaped just like the little icon my grandma placed above most doorways. What it represents, I’m unsure—she’s always kept her religion to herself, only ever taking me to the local church once a year. It was always so boring and I could never wait until it ended, but now I wish I had listened even a little, even if just to know what to say now.

I'm not sure how to do this next part; if I can do it the right way. I hope I can; I hope that if she really is somewhere out there, she’ll be able to hear me. I close my eyes, clasp my hands just like I watched her do countless times,

And pray.

Hello, grandma.

My expression twists as tears finally force themselves out of my eyes, tingling as they flow down my cheeks.

I know it’s been a while, I’m sorry. A lot has happened since I last talked to you. I—I never knew how to, and if I even should try talking to you like this.

Tears ease out a bit as my breathing calms down, thoughts turning ever clearer. I manage to pry my eyes open again.

It’s been bad since you left, but a few months ago, this—this family of mons took me in. I’ve been living with them since.

Each breath is deeper than the last as I hear the leaves rustle around me.

I could’ve never imagined it. They—they took me in. Ember was already living here, safe, and now I’m safe, too. I have a new mom. Her name is Aria, and she’s a Gardevoir. My dad’s name is Garret, and he’s a Grimmsnarl. I even have siblings now, Bell and Cadence! And... a-and—

The harsh sobs undo any tranquility I might’ve carved for myself. I flinch as if struck, my expression twisting into a grimace.

I miss you. I wish you could’ve met them all. They’re wonderful.

I don’t even try to fight the tears this time, letting them flow for as long as they need to. My hands ache a bit, but I hold through it, hold through the discomfort and the tears, both of them easing out bit by bit. Each drop of wetness splashing against my shirt hurts, but all that means is that it took a bit of pain that already was inside my head with itself. It’s bad now,

But once it’s over, I’ll hurt less.

I’m not sure how long I stood there for, grief flowing down my face. It was probably just a few minutes, but it feels like it lasted more than that. I’ve been waiting for this for so long. As the tears ease out, though, I hear a familiar, telepathic voice call out from the other side of the hill, “^Hey, Anne!^”

I pry my eyes open and look over as Cadence comes into view, her cheer fading at seeing and sensing me in my current state. She runs over with concern on her face, one that I try to dispel with a teary smile and a light shake of my head. It puts her at ease somewhat, but she still asks, “^Are you alright, Anne?^”

I’m too tired for translation, falling back on Unovan as an answer, “~Yeah, I-I am. I’m crying, b-but they’re good tears, promise.~”

Thankfully, she doesn’t doubt me, instead pulling as much of me as her arms can wrap around into a hug.

“^Is this that thing you’ve been working on?^”

A few more tears run down my cheeks as I answer with a slow nod.

“^What does it say?^

I don’t mind answering, but... probably not now. “~I’ll tell you some other time, okay?~”

She reassures me it’s alright with firm nods and another hug. “^Sure! It looks nice.^”

“~Thank you.~”

We stand there in silence for a few minutes longer while my heart calms down and my face dries out. These aren’t the last tears I’ll shed before this marker, I’m sure of that—but it’s okay. Each deep breath and each rustle of the passing wind leaves me calmer, until I feel even better than before I started all this. That bit calmer, my soul that bit lighter.

It’s time to go.

“~So, w-wanted to drag me somewhere earlier, Cadence?~” I ask as I wipe the last of the stubborn moisture from my face.

“^Oh, yeah! Ember wants to show you a move she’s been practicing!^”

Goodbye, grandma. I hope you’re happy, wherever you are.

“~Let’s get going, then!~”

Because I finally am.

---

From the Vast

Written by:
redspah

Based on a roleplay session by:
redspah
zephyr_skunk

Edited by:
redspah
Jarack25
AlolanMoon
incog9012
zelda13236
w1ndy.d4y
ott043
Candlejack

The following tools have been utilized in creating this story:
Notepad++ by Don Ho
Obsidian by Dynalist Inc.
ProWritingAid by Orpheus Technology
Google Docs by you fucking know who
Blender by Blender Foundation

No Generative AI has been utilized in creating this story.

Special thanks to:
Arbon - For knowing more about Pokemon lore than any single being should have to, and helping flesh out the setting.

zephyr_skunk - For being the best friend I could've ever asked for during the darkest time of my life.

Kitsune's Inkwell, especially DJFirefox and NovaVere - For helping me improve my writing more than I can even describe.

Austin Jorgensen - For creating one of the most memorable games I never want to play again.

Marina Hova - For her performance in "LISA: The Joyful - Voices" directly inspiring Celia's interlude.

SomeSillyName, TurtlTost - <3

Anthrodyniacoms - For making the cover art.

Sweet_Mintality - For making the artworks used in Chapters 9 and 33, as well as the stickers based on the story.

OutlawVideoProduction, FrankDP1 - For the Ellie model used in the render.

Cloudman - For helping me with the render.

Chaosblossoms - For being one of the most creative, and most wonderful people I've ever met.

Tystarr - For writing A Voice Among the Strangers, the fanfic that inspired me to start writing.

Everyone who read my first ever story, Welcome Home - For making me believe my writing has value.

Everyone tossing change my way on Patreon - For making me believe my writing has monetary value.

The Pokemon Company International, Nintendo Co., Ltd. - fuck you

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ott043
Candlejack
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Cloudman
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...and others!
For making my Discord server the most pleasant online space I've ever participated in.

Everyone who commented on my stories or responded to my threads - For motivating me to keep going.

And you,
for reading.