It wouldn’t be until the day after that the topic of the message would again cross their minds. Blitzer had felt so humiliated, that the idea of doing anything that ghost had asked made him sick to his stomach, and George wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of going anywhere or doing anything without Blitzer at his side, even something as simple as reading a letter.

One day of whimsical activities later, the two were at the other end of the village, the message still a secret from Nero and Nera. Both Blitzer and George felt it would be better if as few knew of the message’s existence. Even after they had agreed the time was right to read it, they procrastinated for a while, staring at the yellowed paper in George’s hands for an uncomfortable amount of time.

“Honestly Blitzer, I don’t know about this. What if it’s all a trap? Some elaborate joke of a plan some Soldier came up with, just so they can toy with me before yanking me off to god knows where?”

Blitzer hummed a dull note. “I don’t believe that, no. But I don’t know what else to expect, either. I don’t like ghosts. Especially that Dusknoir. Not after what he said to me. I’m not some unruly monster that’s going to burn everything in sight. I’m not some slob that only cares about myself, am I, George?” Shimmers welled up in both of Blitzer’s eyes.

George felt a sour and anxious sense in the air, and put a hand on the Charmander’s back. “No. Of course you're not. You’re just very energetic, that’s all,” he said. His heightened senses had sounded the alarms. The smell and feel of the air had shifted considerably from moments earlier, so discomforting that George felt the need to do something. He didn’t need to guess what, either. It was as if the air was part of a Pokemon, a mirror into their souls.

“Then why did he say that?! And why did Lance say it too?!”

George patted Blitzer on the back with enough force to make an audible thud. “Don’t take it too seriously, Blitzer. They’re both old farts that just hate anyone younger than them. You’re making them jealous by being all energetic. Sure, it gets annoying sometimes, but they’re angry that you have energy and they’ve lost it. That’s all.”

Blitzer shook his head, scattering a few droplets to the wind. “No George. You don’t get it. Us Pokemon, we, we have our assumptions about one another, just because of our species. And they’re telling me that I’m the worst example of mine. That I don’t listen to others. That I’m aggressive and easy to upset. That I often hurt others. That I am prideful and arrogant over everything I do.”

“But that’s not true, Blitzer,” George said.

“How would you know?”

George clenched his fists. “Because I’ve been with you for as long as I’ve been a Pokemon myself! If any of that were true, I would have seen it, Blitzer! But it’s not! You’re a good kid at heart, and I know it. Always excited, always optimistic, always meaning well even if he doesn’t come over in the best way. That’s the Blitzer I know.”

Blitzer turned to face George, his eyes partially closed to force him to look up at the Oshawott. “Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.” George held a fist up. “Let those rusty old grandpas yammer. It’s not worth it to try and please them.” ‘And it really isn’t. I’ve spent way too much of my life trying to do it myself. ’

Blitzer audibly swallowed some of his saliva, his tail carefully curling up around his side. “Okay.”

George cleared his throat and held the letter back up. “Alright then. Should we open up the letter? Do you think it might be a trap?”

Blitzer nodded. “It might be a prank by that Dusknoir to laugh at us.”

George’s eyes fell half shut. “Blitzer, I meant the Soldiers. Do you think they sent this?”

“No one in town would join in on it,” said Blitzer while shaking his head. “And I do mean no one, George. Soldiers are nothing to joke around with. The less we have to deal with them, the better.”

George folded his arms. “But does that Dusknoir live here?”

“Yes,” Blitzer said with a tired nod, “of course he does. I’ve seen him a bunch all the times I tried sneaking in there. That café is his house, believe it or not.”

“But doesn’t he look kind of creepy to you? Why would anyone just accept the Reaper living among them?” George asked.

Blitzer waved his hands around in front of George’s face. “That’s what I was thinking for the longest time too, but my parents told me he has been living here for over ten years now and there’s been no issues. Or anything strange. Well yeah, he likes to hide in walls, but that’s ghosts for you, they do that. Nothing else is strange, they say,” he said, nudging George. “Also, what’s the Reaper?”

“Huh? You mean you don’t know?” George said, surprised, before remembering that he wasn’t in the same world he grew up in anymore and that Pokemon wouldn’t know a thing about human fairy tales. It also dawned on him that making comparisons with death itself weren’t going to win favors with anyone, and that he had gotten himself into quite the pickle now.

“Yeah, I don’t. Is it a human thing?”

“Um, yeah, it is,” George said, scratching his head then biting his tongue with a closed mouth. ‘ Ugh, how stupid can you be, George? ’

“Well, what’s it about?” the Charmander asked with a curious flick of his tail.

“Oh, not much, it’s uh, it’s a story my parents told me, yes. The Reaper is a character in that story, and uh, if I remember correctly, it’s uh…” George drew a blank. It was quiet in the streets. The whole town must’ve been listening in. ”...he would reward kids who did well and punish kids that were bad, and take their candy away, yes. That’s why they call him the Reaper, because he’d reap candy. And oh yeah, he was a ghost, too, and he looked like Hein.” George exhaled. ‘ ...Very stupid, apparently! Who is going to buy that? ’

“Fascinating. You should tell me more of these stories some time!” Blitzer said, partially leaned over. George let his hands sink like dead weights. ‘ ...Oh .’

“Yes, some other time. Do you think it’s a good idea to read the message now? If Hein’s not suspicious or anything, then I don’t mind.” ‘Something tells me that I will get into trouble anyway. ’

Blitzer sighed. Right after, he began dragging his feet along the ground. From his body language, it was trivial to discern that he was far more interested in hearing George ramble about fairy tales than talk about the message. All the excitement from earlier had sunk into the ground. Hein had gotten him good, something George had no solution for. Not an easy one, anyway, beyond a slight tap of the shoulder.

“It’s okay. We both know you’re better than that.”

“Yeah. I sure don’t want to lower myself to running errands for that ghost.”

“But who says that ghost is the one who wrote this?” Blitzer was silent. George lowered himself down upon the grass next to the street; it was more comfortable that way. “For all we know, this is someone else’s. That Tangrowth, maybe?”

“That would be silly.”

“It is possible, though.”

“I guess…” Blitzer shook his head. “Alright, let’s get this over with, then. No one says I have to do what is written in there, anyway.”

As Blitzer dropped himself onto the grass next to him, George unfolded the message. It had been written in that same strange language that had been written on the signs leading to the Mystery Dungeons, which George somehow was capable of reading.

“To the receiver of this message,”

“It is crucial that you do not share the contents of this message with anyone. This is information which could put you at risk, should the wrong people learn of it. Do not share a word of the information contained within this page with any stranger, unless a future instruction written on one of these pages says otherwise.”

“Dear reader. I want to start off by writing that you are not required to follow up on any of this. If you wish, you may shred this message and forget it ever existed. I do not know what your heart truly longs for, but I believe I might have something that interests you and your companion. You long to explore and see the world, to grow stronger and protect all that you love. You may seek answers to a great amount of questions you may have on your true lot in life. This message may provide you with fulfilment for all of those desires.”

“Nearby your village, directly north of its link with the greater world lies an entrance to a realm hidden from the eye of the Leo. It is deep within that place where you will find a treasure. Finders are keepers: If you lay your hands on that treasure, it will be yours. Of course, the road to get there will not be easy. This hidden world is affected by the same energy that has taken the forests nearby in its grasp. Ferocious Pokemon will be awaiting you.”

“Should you wish to venture out there, I wish you the best of luck. Your exploration will be worth it. Should you choose to not follow up on this instruction, may your lives be long and filled with light. No matter which path you choose, remember to never share a word of what you have learned with another. Her forces are watching.”

“Until our paths cross,”

“A friend.”

With all the enthusiasm of an owl come daylight, George folded the message back together. Once again, he was left in the deep end. Mystery Dungeons, waterbreathing, Soldiers, and now strangers sending instructions on how to find treasure. Blitzer didn’t seem too impressed either. He was scratching the gravel with the claws on his feet, his eyes drawn away from the yellowed paper and its instructions.

“I take it you aren’t very excited about it.”

Blitzer glanced towards George with the corner of an eye. “Not really, no. Who tells other people where they can find treasure? It’s probably not even treasure. Just a rock with a different color.”

George shrugged. “No way to find out otherwise, right?”

“Yeah.” Blitzer dug his feet into the gravel. “But all this rambling about treasure is a whole lot of nonsense. That’s what I’m thinking.”

George affirmed Blitzer with a nod. “I agree with you. This isn’t about some treasure. This reads like a trick to me. As if… as if someone is fooling us into doing something, but has their own reasons for wanting us to do that. That’s the goal, I think. Going somewhere and exploring to accomplish something for them.”

“You sound very sure of yourself when you say that,” Blitzer told him. George gave an approving hum.

“That’s because this isn’t the first time, and not even the tenth time I have seen something like this. The headmistress back at the foster’s home would always play tricks on us. Whether it’s throwing toys around so that we would all blame one another for the mess, which would give her an excuse to force all of us to clean,” George said, recounting events from less than a month ago. Time sure had slowed down to a crawl.

“Wow. For someone your age, you sure have gone through a lot,” Blitzer said, the warmth of his tail creeping up on George, who sighed in response.

“I know. None of it was anything worth remembering. That foster’s home is a horrible, horrible place. And I don’t know why, but even though I’m not there anymore, it still feels like there is a piece of me that is.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I wish I had the answer to that question myself.”

The two fell silent. A pedestrian walked past, not paying the two children any attention before vanishing behind a house further down the road. They moved on, much as the water in the stream.

“So, about the message… what do you think we should do?” George asked.

“I want to talk with my parents about it,” Blitzer responded, his head resting against his claws.

George’s ears flipped sideways. “Didn’t you read it with me? Whoever sent us this doesn’t want us telling anyone. I don’t think your parents are an exception to that.”

“Yeah, that is true, but I don’t believe everything on there. Would any old paper really tell us the truth?” Blitzer pondered out loud. “My parents might know more about these kind of things.”

George stared at the Charmander in disbelief. ‘ Is this even the same Blitzer I’m talking to? ’ “I thought you were always looking forward to exploring new places just to get stronger. You don’t even care about treasure all that much. You’re always like, ‘Oh, treasure’s secondary, it’s not that important’, and now we find out about a new dungeon we can go and explore, and you turn it down.”

Blitzer didn’t respond for a while. Aside from a few clicks of his tongue, nothing came out of him. A surge in the stream and a sweetening breeze passed, and he began playfully kicking his feet around.

“You know what? Maybe I am talking nonsense. I’m starting to sound just like my dad! You’re right, George. It’s not the treasure we’re after, it’s the journey to the treasure that counts! I don’t care if it’s a rotten apple we find, that’s not what the fun in exploring is, I’m not like that. Not one bit! I’m not going to be a greedy Charizard when I grow up. No! Hein be damned!”

George stared at Blitzer with a dumbfounded face. ‘ It sure didn’t take long to change his mind… ’ “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been looking forward to exploring again, actually. As long as this isn’t some elaborate trap or anything, I’ll be happy.”

Blitzer smirked at George with folded arms. “Let me guess, you’ve been dreaming about being a Samurott again, haven’t you?”

The teeth stuck out of George’s mouth as his lips curled up into a smile. “Of course I have,” he said, picturing the armored blue warrior he was going to become one day in his head much like in his dreams. The thoughts were so soothing to get lost in, almost like a taste of the finest wines. So noble and heroic, so strong and fearsome, and ultimately so pleasing to imagine himself being.

Alas, the day that dream would become reality was nowhere in sight, and most likely overly romantic. “I hope you’re not going to become an arrogant one,” Blitzer said with a wink.

George spat out his breath. “Of course not. That’s not me, is it? I can barely breathe water, let alone use this silly scalchop as a weapon. I’m supposed to wield a seamitar one day?”

“Apparently!” Blitzer bumped George on his upper arm with his elbow.

“Yeah, that’s a new one for me too,” George said, scalchop in hand. “What’s with calling me arrogant, by the way?”

Blitzer stuck out his tongue. “Hey, you heard all about Charizard stereotypes, I thought I’d share a Samurott stereotype with you!”

George awkwardly chuckled back. “Well, that’s cool to know, I guess.” ‘ Why would anyone think I’d get arrogant when I get older? ’

“Don’t worry, it’s all nonsense some people invented as a joke one day, and then those jokes got completely out of hand. Would you know how many people in the villagers make jokes about my parents being awake all night? You wouldn’t know!” Blitzer kept on laughing. In spite of all the negativity coming his way, he kept up his cheery laugh and smile, no matter how bad he got. Defiant to it all, he’d keep laughing until his lungs would fly out of his mouth, so George believed. And even then, if there was a way to laugh without having lungs, Blitzer would probably find it.

George peeked vaguely in the direction of the sun; there were at least a few hours of daylight left. “So, what do we do now?” he asked with a thump of his tail, much to his own amusement. ‘ What, am I starting to do this too? ’ A shrug came back from Blitzer, cheeks all puffy.

“I don’t know. Should we go to the others?”

“Sure thing. Let’s first put the note back, though. Holding onto it the whole time gets real irritating, let me tell you. Also, I’d rather not risk having anyone find out. It’s unlikely anyone might steal the message like that, but you never know.”

“Definitely. I could use a drink, too.”

ad gotten ten hours longer.