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Life, aging, illness, and death are inescapable truths in the world of Pokémon. Even Ghost-types, those known for their eerie longevity, will eventually burn through the energy that anchors them to this world and quietly fade back into it.
Legendary Pokémon, who live closest to what mortals might call eternity, have little sense of time. Luther couldn't help but wonder, what did three thousand years, a thousand, or even three hundred mean to a being like Ho-Oh?
Perhaps the people of Ecruteak City never truly considered that three hundred years is an incredibly long time for humans.
But for Ho-Oh, the fire that shattered her faith in humankind still seemed fresh, their fear, their rejection, their betrayal, all as vivid as if they had happened only yesterday.
For Ho-Oh, memories spanned ages. Every recall was a return to a moment so deeply etched, it felt like the turning of an era.
Pidgeot and Fearow were different. Their lifespans were far shorter, and their memories more fleeting. And yet, in the oldest corners of their minds, one image remained unchanged: a young girl gently tending to their wounds, applying salve, and wrapping their injuries in clean bandages.
That moment had bound them to the canyon. And so the two lifelong rivals remained there, side by side, year after year, guarding the nearby town until the snow fell, and it was finally time to return to the land that had once cradled them.
With the last of the Flying-types gone, the Featherfall Festival quietly came to a close. Those that remained in the town were hardy birds, species more tolerant of the cold, content to roost in the canyon through the winter.
Two days later, Chikorita had recovered from her illness and was now cheerfully darting around the Pokémon Center's courtyard, chasing after Chansey and the others. According to Joy, Chikorita was likely still under a year old, right in that curious, playful stage of growth, so Luther and Mai allowed their Pokémon to spend time with her outside of training.
Mai's team was calm and well-prepared. They had experience interacting with newly hatched Pokémon. For Luther, however, this was entirely new territory.
With such an adorable "toy" added to the group, his Pokémon swarmed around her with excitement, nudging, sniffing, and playfully brushing against her. If Chansey hadn't gently pinned Marill's head down, the eager little Water-type might have licked Chikorita on the spot, especially since, as everyone quickly noticed, she had quite a sweet natural scent.
From Chansey's gestures and expressions, Luther pieced together some of Chikorita's early story.
It was unclear whether she had been abandoned as a presumed-dead egg or if tragedy had struck her mother, leaving her unable to return. Whatever the case, Chikorita had emerged from her shell alone, curled up in a hollow tree, surrounded by silence.
For any Pokémon, that was a nightmare-level survival situation. No parent to guide her, no siblings to share warmth, no basic teachings passed down. Everything she knew had been learned through instinct and luck. Most Pokémon born under such conditions wouldn't make it in the wild.
Her first meal had been the remaining fluids inside the egg. With hunger gnawing at her belly and no sign of her mother, she eventually gnawed on the eggshell itself and swallowed the fragments.
Yet, fortune had smiled on her for a while. That spring, the ice melted early, and the area around her tree hollow was rich with thick vegetation. By extending her Vine Whip, she could knock Berries off nearby branches with ease.
There was a river close by too, and the territory wasn't heavily populated by aggressive predators. For a time, she survived well.
But good luck never lasts forever.
As the weather turned colder in recent days, Chikorita instinctively began to gather food in preparation for winter. But she quickly discovered that for a lone young Pokémon, this was no easy task. Every creature around her was busy storing food, and competition was fierce.
Aside from a small pile of Berries she had managed to keep near her tree hollow, she found nothing else. At one point, a large Ursaring, digging near a tree stump, grunted and nudged a few spare Berries her way, as if to share.
But Chikorita hadn't dared to take them.
When Ursaring pushed a pile of Berries toward her, clearly offering to share, Chikorita's first instinct was: It's a trap!
Clutching the Berries she'd gathered, she bolted, retreating to a small dirt mound she had carefully dug near her tree hollow. She stayed hidden there for two or three days before cautiously returning.
Luther felt a headache coming on. That silly Ursaring… it had to be the same one he'd traded a Lum Berry with not long ago.
If it was that Ursaring, then Chikorita would've been perfectly safe accepting the Berries, she could've taken as many as she liked. During their exchange, the big guy had come across as quite gentle and easygoing.
But Chikorita still clung to the belief that the Berries she'd hoarded would last her through the entire winter. Luther couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, that her stash wouldn't last even a month. Ursaring, at least, knew that winter often required multiple foraging trips, and that it was smart to store Lum Berries to help ward off frostbite. Chikorita, with no shelter prepared and not nearly enough food, had almost no chance of surviving even the first snowfall. Her odds were slim, maybe one percent at best.
After working through the entire morning, Mai finally completed her little project.
That morning, she'd bought a soft blanket in Featherfall Town, then made some careful adjustments to transform it into a snug, padded coat just for Chikorita.
While Chikorita was busy rubbing affectionately against Espurr's cheek, Mai scooped her up and slipped the coat on.
At first, Chikorita wriggled uncomfortably, unsure about the new sensation. But once she felt the warmth settle over her, she broke into joyful squeaks and leaped happily into Mai's arms.
Just then, Tatsuya appeared in the courtyard, and Luther went over to greet him.
"You know," Tatsuya said, examining Chikorita's new coat, "I still think turning the feathers into a crown would've looked way cooler. Using them as a collar just seems like a waste."
Luther smiled wryly. "I get it, but we're still on the road. Backpack space is tight, and a full crown would be a pain to store or swap out when needed."
Tatsuya conceded with a nod and handed Luther a beautifully woven feather collar along with a small, delicate feather fan.
Tatsuya was nothing if not talented, he could cook, craft, and weave with finesse. The moment Luther touched the fan, he could tell just how much care and attention Tatsuya had put into it over the past two days. Properly treating feathers freshly shed by Pokémon wasn't something just anyone could do, it required skill and patience.
Featherfall Town had a long-standing tradition around these molted feathers, and many local artisans made a living through intricate feather weaving. According to Tatsuya, the craftsmanship in this town could even outshine that of many surrounding cities.
Typically, someone would be lucky to gather just two or three feathers in one season, and a full feather crown could take three or four years to complete. So the decision to make an elaborate fan? That was a rare luxury.
Luther hadn't even had the chance to tuck the fan into his backpack before a group of travelers approached, asking to buy it. Word had already spread online about the feather drop at the Pokémon Center last night. The sight of Flying-types bestowing their feathers as blessings had drawn not only locals but also people from surrounding areas.
With the new year approaching, anything symbolic or ceremonial, especially something believed to carry blessings, was highly coveted. While older generations had once insisted that only the original recipient of the feathers should keep them, that belief had softened over time, and feather trading had become more accepted.
Still, demand far exceeded supply.
Luther, however, turned down every offer.
That fan wasn't merchandise, it was a heartfelt gift from three Pokémon. It symbolized the goodwill of the entire team and the kindness they had shown to Chikorita.
The trust and love of two Pokémon who'd faced death couldn't be measured in money. Putting a price on that would have sullied the meaning behind their actions.
The moment the feather collar settled around Chikorita's neck, she immediately stopped fidgeting. Sniffing gently, she seemed to recognize the scent of the three large Flying-types from the previous night.
Before she could fully enjoy the comforting aroma, Marill seized the perfect opportunity, just as Chansey was distracted, being fed pudding by Mai, and leapt at Chikorita, giving the leaf on her head a big, playful lick.
Chikorita hadn't even had time to react before Marill darted off to the side, tongue out and nose scrunched.
Smelled good, tasted like nothing. What a rip-off!
But Marill couldn't escape for long. Jumpluff and Kirlia, who had been watching over Chikorita attentively, quickly sprang into action and caught her in the act.
With a new Grass-type youngster joining the team, Jumpluff had been the most excited of all. Watching Marill constantly tease and harass Chikorita, Jumpluff finally decided it was time for a little… discipline.
Luther turned his head and deliberately ignored Marill's exaggerated cries for help. She'd be fine by dinnertime, nothing to worry about there.
His thoughts drifted back to Chikorita's hatching and then to the Pokémon Egg resting in his own backpack.
Wild Pokémon Eggs are usually observed for at least three months before ever being put up for adoption or trade. For Trainers, a typical hatching period ranges from one to three months.
Judging by the timing, it seemed likely that Chikorita had been abandoned, mistaken for a dead egg. Her incubation period must have far exceeded what her original Trainer expected. And now, as he glanced toward his own unmoving egg, he understood all too well the doubt that creeps in during long journeys.
Resting his hand gently on the egg, Luther whispered, "It's alright. No rush. I've got time, you can take as long as you need."
Before nightfall, Luther and Nurse Joy brought a fresh supply of Pokémon food to the canyon.
Following the Featherfall Festival, the canyon had started to come alive again. Pokémon were busily hauling hay and dry twigs from the nearby forest and town outskirts, reinforcing their nests tucked along the rocky cliffs.
Joy parked a small cart of Pokémon food on the canyon floor, then took a deep breath and called out toward the cliff face:
"Fearow! Pidgeot! I came to visit!"
The Pokémon dotting the rock wall paused and turned toward the voice, but, realizing the call wasn't meant for them, soon went back to their work.
Joy tried again. "If you're not going to come down, why not head to the town instead? They've built you little houses, it'd be cozy and warm!"
Chikorita followed closely, calling out softly alongside Joy, hoping to catch a glimpse of those two fascinating large birds once again.
From a short distance, Luther and Mai watched as Joy slowly walked along the canyon floor, her voice echoing. Every now and then, a Pokémon would peer curiously from its perch, but there was still no sign of Fearow or Pidgeot.
On the way back, Joy seemed visibly downcast. Mai didn't know how to comfort her, so she nudged Luther with her elbow, urging him to say something.
But before he could speak, Joy muttered quietly, "I guess… they don't want to acknowledge me."
"They just don't want to see you," Luther replied bluntly.
Mai blinked in confusion. Was that supposed to help?
"In their eyes," Luther continued, "grief spreads like a storm cloud. If being around you stirs sadness, maybe they believe staying away is the kindest thing, for both sides."
Joy asked softly, "Do you think they're right?"
"I do."
Joy lowered her head, clearly disheartened.
But then Luther added, "Still, how I feel and what you want to do are two separate things. Their perspective doesn't define you. If I were you, I'd show up at that canyon every single day and shout my heart out. If they didn't respond, I'd record it and play it on loop."
He smirked. "Pidgeot and Fearow might keep hiding, but I doubt their neighbors would stay quiet for long."
(End of Chapter)