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Chapter - 3 -

  Eyes focussed on the horizon "A wild Water Bubble Pokémon," the man stated, his voice a bored, gravelly baritone. "Clearly out of control. We can't waste time on this."

  Listening to its trainer the Camerupt lifted its massive foot. The Araquanid, already battered from its fight with Rhyhorn, shrieked and scrambled away. Turning around to glare at its prey, then disappearing into the flooded reeds by the riverbank.

  Finally turning and looking over at me the trainer held his hand out “whats your name kid?”

  Grabbing the hand that was being offered to me ”My name is Micah, what about you mister?”

  Looking towards my saviour, the man, who looked to be in his late twenties, withdrew his hand after the handshake with a firm, dry grip that smelled faintly of sterile paper and ozone. His crimson trench coat settled as the Camerupt moved, the Pokémon's two volcanic humps casting long, twin shadows in the low sun. The man adjusted his thick, dark rimmed glasses, his eyes sharp and analytical as he looked me over.

  "Maxie. Just Maxie." He glanced at the disappearing ripples in the mud where the Araquanid had been. "You were quite fortunate, young man. That Araquanid had an unusual temperament for a newly introduced species is very much a product of territorial stress and imbalance. “

  Turning back to look at me and pointing over my shoulder ”now turn around so i can get that looked at” he said with an authoritative tone.

  Instinctively turned to show the man the gouge the Arachnid left on my back. This was followed by a sharp exhale from the red-haired man.

  “Is it bad?” I said as I looked over my shoulder, and saw the man ruffle through a pack that he had hidden in his coat.

  Stopping his search to meet my gaze “it's not as bad as it could have been.” breaking eye contact and pulling out a medkit that should not have been able to fit in his clutch. “Im surprised you're still standing” pulling out several scar sheets and a stapler “How did you manage?”.

  “Manage what? To escape? Because without your help I wouldn't have lasted another second, let alone a minute.” I said as my gaze was now firmly on the piece of cotton he was prepping with isopropyl.

  “True.” he said without even sparing a second “but Araquanid are known to be fast and strong.” finally putting the isopropyl to my skin he asked ”so how is it that a kid like you lasted this long?”.

  Letting his words marinate I couldn' t help but think ‘how do you know how long it's been chasing me for’. The thought grew louder and louder until I couldn't help but ask.

  He lifted the piece of cotton and paused “Well, I don't know much about that Pokemon. but it doesn't take a genius to know that most prey that catch such a fast pokemon's ire, don't live long enough to run out of breath.”.

  Pivoting the conversation he asked “so why are you here Micah. I doubt you're here to collect rock samples like me.” That's when I felt cold metal tap my back and the sharp sensation of the staples into my back, letting out a short yelp that Maxie promptly ignored as he carefully unloaded the entire magazine of staples onto my scar, ”what brings you this close to the river?”.

  “My family owns the fields nearby, and I was studying the damage done to the fields when… oh shit!” remembering why i came all this way i shot up and turned to Maxie “my dad! I came here to get him! He’s-”

  “He is fine” he said, cutting my panic short, and spun me around to clean my wound off some more.

  “I encountered him further downstream. He was attempting to manually clear a large debris dam that was disrupting the current. He's... robustly built, much like his Rhyhorn.” pausing to pick up one of the scar sheets, I felt him placing it on my back along the scarred tissue. ”The other wild Water-types were focused on him, but his attempts, while brave, were, shall we say, ineffective. He was attracting them, not deterring them."

  I winced slightly as I craned my neck trying to see the wound. "Did he do it? Remove the debris?" I said as I turned to see him put away his medkit.

  He doesn't look at Me, instead focusing his attention on his Camerupt, who had been standing patiently. "Bibarel are opportunistic builders, and while they lack access to tools that humans use, many of their constructs can outlast homes built by early humans. However this scale of alteration suggests a strong desire to remain in their current ecosystem.” turning to give me a cursory glance he turned back to his pack, and threw a hoodie at me. “Wear this. It should stop anything from getting to the wound.”

  Snatching the hoodie out of the air, I stretched it out in front of me to take it in. It was a warm red with several different styles of patches and embroidery with the same logo of a capital M. Putting it on I found that it was pretty warm with any discomfort being from the fact that it was slightly too short for me. I stretched a little to test the elasticity of the hoodie only to feel the sharp pain of the staples pulling my skin taut, which pulled a groan out of me as well as dragging me back to the subject matter.

  “You still haven't answered my question.” looking back to the researcher

  “Well the truth is i dont know for sure.” seeing the shift in my expression he quickly continued “But I left my Swellow with him, and while Swellow may be lacking in comparison to my normal roster. I doubt those wild pokemon could even lay a scratch on him”

  Satisfied with his answer I scanned our environment and began calculating the extent of the damage rendered to our surroundings and let out a low groan at the numbers that my mind came up with. The pity party was interrupted by the sound of a pokemon being released from its ball. Turning towards the sound I saw a large, black, doll-like creature that sported several pink/roseate eyes that ran along the circumference of its large almost disk like shape.

  “What is that?” I said in surprise, pointing at the pokemon Maxie just released.

  “Claydol, useful to have around and is one of my oldest partners” as he patted the levitating doll pokemon.

  “What can it do?”

  “A lot. but in this case he's going to teleport us to my Swellow.” he said as he called his firetype to its pokeball.

  “Alright, what do I need to do?” I asked as I got closer. Once I got close Maxie placed his hand on top of his Claydol’s head, which I promptly imitated, placing my own hand on the crown of the pokemon's head.

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  The large Claydol covered in its network of roseate eyes emitted a low hum. A strange, shimmering blue light began to coalesce around them both, pulling at the air itself.

  "Wait, what is this?" I stammered eyes wide.

  "Relax, kid," Maxie commanded, his tone betraying no emotion.

  Before Micah could offer another protest, the world dissolved into a flash of light and a sudden, disorienting whoosh of air.

  -------------

  Narrator

  With a faint pop and a rush of displaced air, Maxie, Micah, and Claydol materialized on a patch of relatively dry earth near the edge of the decimated fields. Rhys, Micah's father, was crouched behind a cluster of large mud-caked rocks and logs. Perched Above him sat a large navy, white, and red bird with an aerodynamic plumage. The large bird Stared at Micah for a few seconds before deciding he wasn't a threat and placed its gaze firmly on the river.

  "Dad!" Micah yelled, rushing forward.

  Rhys looked up, relief warring with anger in his worn eyes. "Micah! What are you doing out here?" lifting himself to meet his son.

  Rhys closed the distance in two long, uneven steps, the kind that came from both urgency and exhaustion. When he reached Micah he pulled his son in with a force that said everything his voice couldn’t.

  Micah felt his father’s breath stagger as his heart rate slowed. Rhys’s arms locked around him with a grip that bordered on painful, fingers curling into the fabric of Micah’s. Micah returned the embrace.

  Rhys was the first to ease his grip, but even then his hands lingered on Micah’s arms, sliding up towards his shoulders as though reluctant to let go. The tension was unraveled when a mud-caked rock shifted towards them, revealing Rhyhorn lurching forwards.

  “How are you feeling? Are you hurt?” asked Micah as he scanned his father and the muddy pokemon.

  “I’ve been better, But it would have gone a lot worse if these two weren't here.” he said as he pointed at the two large pokemon behind him. The rush of emotion from the hug hadn’t fully faded, but he forced his spine upright, drawing in a steadying breath. His eyes lingered on Micah for a heartbeat then they shifted past his son’s shoulder.

  Rhys’s posture changed instantly. The openness of the embrace collapsed into a guarded, almost territorial stance. He stepped subtly in front of Micah, not blocking him entirely but making it clear that the man behind him would have to go through Rhys first.

  “Alright,” he muttered, voice still rough from the earlier strain, “you’re here… you’re safe.” He kept his eyes locked on the stranger now. “But maybe you’d like to tell me who that is.”

  He tilted his chin toward Maxie, an expression that wasn’t quite hostile, but carried enough steel to warn he’d fight if he had to. The protective instinct pulsed through every line of his body, a stark contrast to the vulnerability he’d shown seconds before.

  Maxie gave a short, practiced bow. "Maxie. I was in the vicinity when I saw your Rhyhorn running and sent my Swellow after it.”he continued, folding his hands loosely behind his back. “Figured something must’ve gone wrong, so I retraced its steps. That is how I found your son."

  Rhys didn’t relax immediately. His eyes flicked once to the Swellow roosting, then to the Claydol hovering at Maxie’s side, measuring distances, possibilities. When he spoke again, his tone had lost its edge but not its caution.

  For a moment, the only sound was the river chewing at its banks. Rhys exhaled through his nose, the fight draining out of his shoulders in reluctant increments.

  “Hmph,” he muttered. “Stubborn boy would’ve broken a leg or worse trying to help me.” His hand came to rest on Rhyhorn’s caked hide, fingers pressing into the mud as if grounding himself. “Thank you Maxie. For bringing my boy back, and for helping me”

  The words were stiff, clearly hard-won, but they were there.

  Micah looked between them, tension easing just enough for him to breathe. “Thank you for your help Mr.Maxie, i wouldn't be here without your help”

  Rhys glanced back at his son, something softer crossing his face, then returned his attention to Maxie. “You said you were ‘in the vicinity,’” he noted. “That’s a broad stretch of land to be in the right place at the right time.”

  A corner of Maxie’s mouth twitched not quite a smile. “I travel. A lot. Following old routes, old rumors. Floods tend to uncover things people forgot were buried.” He paused, then added, “I had no idea who your son was when I found him. If that’s what you’re asking.”

  Rhys studied him for a long second, weighing the answer. Finally, he gave a single, curt nod.

  “Fair,” he said. He stepped fully aside now, no longer positioning himself as a barrier. “Name’s Rhys.”

  “Good to meet you, Rhys,” Maxie replied. “Under better circumstances, preferably.”

  That earned a rough, humorless huff from Rhys. “Yeah. This region hasn’t been offering those lately.”

  Above them, Swellow shifted its wings, the tension in the air finally thinning. Rhys glanced once more at Maxie, suspicion still present but tempered now by something unmistakable.

  “Whatever your reasons were,” he said, voice lower, steadier, “my son came back alive because of them. I won’t forget that.”

  Maxie bowed again, more shallow this time. “That’s all I can ask.”

  For the first time since the teleport, the moment felt… stable. Not safe not yet but no longer on the brink of breaking.

  Maxie inclined his head again, slower this time, acknowledging Micah’s words without drawing attention to himself.

  “You give me too much credit,” he said mildly. “Your son handled himself well. I only nudged fate in the right direction.”

  Rhys snorted, a dry, humorless sound, but some of the tightness left his jaw. “That sounds like something a man says when he’s used to trouble finding him anyway.” His eyes never fully left Maxie, but his shoulders eased a fraction. “Still… nudging fate counts for a lot today.”

  He shifted his weight, boots sinking slightly into the wet earth. The Swellow above him ruffled its feathers but didn’t move, the river wind tugging at its wings.

  “You said you were in the vicinity,” Rhys continued, tone careful rather than accusatory now. “That’s a wide stretch of land to be wandering with a Claydol and a bird like that.” His gaze sharpened. “You a ranger? Ace Trainer? Something else?”

  Maxie met the look without flinching. “Researcher,” he replied simply. “I take work where it finds me and move on when I have enough answers to solve problems”

  A pause. Then, deliberately, Maxie took a half-step back, opening the space between them rather than closing it.

  That did it. Rhys studied the space Maxie had given, then finally stepped aside, no longer positioning himself directly in front of Micah. The movement was small, but it carried weight.

  “Hah…” Rhys scrubbed a hand over his face, smearing another line of mud across his cheek. “Fair enough.” He glanced back at Micah, expression softening despite himself. “You’ve always had a talent for finding people who complicate things.”

  Micah managed a weak smile. “I learned from you.”

  That earned him a huff of reluctant amusement.

  Rhys turned back to Maxie, extending a hand that was still caked in mud and trembling faintly from exhaustion. “Rhys,” he said. “I don’t like owing strangers. And I don’t trust easy.” His grip, when Maxie accepted it, was firm but no longer challenging. “But you kept my son breathing. For that, you have my thanks.”

  Maxie shook his hand once and released it. “That’s more than enough.”

  The tension ebbed, leaving behind a quieter, watchful calm. Rhys gestured toward the river and the ruined fields beyond.

  “We’ll be heading back once Rhyhorn can walk without toppling over,” he said. “You’re welcome to rest a bit, if you need it.” His eyes narrowed slightly again, suspicion never fully gone. “Or you can be on your way. Either choice is yours.”

  Micah looked up at Maxie, earnest. “At least stay until we know everyone’s okay.”

  Rhys didn’t contradict him. He just watched Maxie closely, gratitude and wariness coexisting in equal measure, as the river continued its slow, relentless pull beside them.

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