Days of raids in and around Rustborough went by, before George and Blitzer were sent out beyond the city’s reach. The festival was three weeks away, and much work was to be done if the Ruby Province was to celebrate. The villages near Rustborough were better off for certain: That much was clear to George as he reflected on the reaction his activities got. It was just a matter of branching out now. Into the mountains and the gorges.

And the day to crawl back into those mountains and gorges had come. George and Blitzer put their scarves on extra tight, and stocked up for what could be a long departure from safety before heading through the tunnels. They were headed for a teleporter this time, which made George raise an eyebrow.

‘I still don’t get why they wouldn’t let us teleport here. Are those tracking tales really true? It’s not like we still need to prove ourselves, right?’

George pressed the thought out of his mind. They were headed north this time, where the Source Hills rose, the name owed to the many rivers that originate here, and being the home ofthe Ruby Hills’ first king.

Once through the tunnels, they were in a country bar. Bad memories from Mountainshade came pouring in. Nevertheless, in they went, only to be greeted by a wail of hollering from the many, many patrons that were infesting the place. The stench was sickening, the noise was grating, and their desire to not make a dash for the door was less than zero. Blitzer had a sour face by the time they practically crashed through and slammed the door behind. Not the finest folk visited this bar.

“Never touching that garbage, ever!” the Charmeleon grumbled. George shiftily eyed the countryside while biting his tongue.

‘I can only imagine the fire he’d start if he did…’

Bar woes aside, they made their way into the hills. There, in the basement of a large farmhouse, the teleporter awaited. Skal had given them a piece of paper before they left. It bore a combination of letters and numbers that made little sense. He said they’d need it for the teleporter. But the people at the farmhouse didn’t know anything about it. No amount of talking changed that. With no better options, they stepped on the teleporter.

Somehow, both had forgotten that the teleporters out there were linked to the teleportation hall, back in the underground base. Confused even more, Blitzer dragged Len into their mess, showing him the paper. The Lurantis chuckled, before pointing them to the pad the paper apparently referred to. It was in the top left corner, nearby the pad that had taken them into the Ruby Province to begin with.

And at long last, at midday, they were in the Source Hills. More accurately, they were inside a town in the Source Hills, the teleporter being located in the basement of a small library. Its name?

Nobody had bothered to tell them.

Blitzer sighed as the midday sun fell upon his face. “Well, that was an adventure, alright…”

George blew air through his nostrils as he stepped away from the library’s entrance. A Tinkatink wanted in, and he wasn’t in the mood to debate someone with a giant hammer. He let his arms drop.

“Still don’t get why it’s so hard for anyone to tell us what everything means. These stupid codes… they’re just for the-” he cut himself off upon spotting an old Mightyena fetching water from a well nearby. “You know. The thing.”

“True,” said Blitzer as he stretched his arms. “So where is this place, exactly? Source Hills doesn’t tell me anything. Doesn’t tell you anything either, I imagine.”

George folded his arms. “Scratch ‘where is this place’, more like ‘what is this place’? We don’t even know what it’s called.”

An idea shot into his mind. “I know, what about ‘Itchy Creek’? There’s a name for you, alright. Can’t ever forget it!” George scratched his arms like he was trying to start a fire. Blitzer raised an eye.

“You’re dealing with a pretty bad one, I imagine.”

“Yeah, how’d you guess?”

Blitzer cracked up, his tail flame crackling right along with him. “Pfft, I wonder George. Couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that it looks like you’re trying to rub your fur off, could it?”

The Oshawott bit his lip. “Got that right.”‘ ‘Egh, should I tell him or not? I don’t want him to get all worried for me over this, but-’ “Agh!”

Suddenly he clutched his left arm. It flared red hot with pain; another groan shot out of his throat as it spread to the other. In the blink of an eye, Blitzer was right in his face.

“George? Buddy? Tell me, what’s going on? Why are you-” the Charmeleon’s eyes widened as he sniffed. “Y-you drew blood!”

‘Did I?’ George gritted his teeth. Indeed, a drip of red stained the fur on his left arm. His right was clean; the pain there hadn’t been as bad. His ears went flat against his head. Hiding it any further was a waste of time.

“Okay… Blitzer, I have to tell you something. And please, don’t get scared or panic, I’ll be fine. Promise.” George took a deep breath with his eyes closed. “I’ve been dealing with this recurring pain for a while now. And not just my arms. My thighs, cheeks, legs, you name it. Everything started with small itching, but now it’s outright painful.”

Blitzer took a step back. “You… you should go see a doctor about it.”

George pinched himself in his sides. “Do you think it’s that bad?”

The Charmeleon’s mouth twisted as if his mouth was full of lemons. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re developing an allergy or something, or it’s some sort of seasonal affliction.”

Something about that response didn’t sit right with George. “Wait.. you said that Pokemon don’t get sick often, didn’t you?” ‘And is this even a virus?’

“Y-yeah! That’s what I mean, you should see a doctor about it. And soon,” Blitzer said. “We could look for one...” He looked out over the town. It sat in a small valley, and all the buildings were crudely made from stone, no bigger than two stories. Given the colourful stalls and displays, they were in the town’s market. “Not sure if we’ll find a doctor here, but we can try.”

George hid the wound under a hand as he looked alongside Blitzer. For a market, there weren’t many customers walking around. The majority of those present were quadrupeds, too. And most surprising of all, not a green banner or scarf in sight.

“Odd, though. Don’t small town folk need doctors as well?”

“Yeah, but some towns are too small for one.” Blitzer folded his arms. “When I got sick, my parents would take me to Agate Township to get it checked… I really don’t know if there’s a doctor here or not. I doubt it.”

“Nah… we got a doc in town alright, kiddos. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

George’s ears perked right up as they were addressed. That was one familiar voice. Not as familiar as some others, perhaps, and the familiarity was a little colder than most others, but still. He spun on his feet to the sight of a Darmanitan wearing a black cloak, with a black-gemmed pendant poking out between his arms.

“Porov! We’ve been looking for you!”

Blitzer came running right up to the Darmanitan. The grim apparel did little to darken his goofy smile, let alone the bear hug he now gave Blitzer, which caused the cloak to slide right off his back. George chuckled.

“Heheheh! Blitzer! George! Me boys, how’ve ye been likin’ the ol’ Ruby Province so far?”

Upon breaking out of the hug, Blitzer sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. “Weeell… it’s pretty nice when you ain’t looking over your shoulder all the time, if you know what I mean.“

“Oh yes,” the Darmanitan said with a grin. “And lookie here, if it ain’t George! How have ye been, me boy? Been keepin’ a good eye on Blitzer for me?”

“Doing the best job I can, but it’s not like he’s- aah!”

Mid scratching his arm, George was pulled off his feet by the Darmanitan’s massive hands. Him being much smaller than Blitzer wasn’t anything Porov cared about, it turned out.

“Heh! Thought I was gonna skip ye? I ain’t ever skippin’ nobody, least of all when it’s been a while!” Porov laughed as he set George back down. “Me boys, we got a lot to chat about, but hey. Ye said ye needed to see a doctor, didn’t ya? Well, why don’t we go an’ get that checked out?”

“Please,” George said. “This pain is really starting to get to me.”

Porov tapped his chin. “That bad, huh?”

Blitzer started to churr a little. “Don’t know what’s happening either. We better get it checked out fast.”

“Well then, follow me! Know this town like I know my own fingers. Let’s go.”

* * *

Porov took them to a small building on the other end of town. But it was only a five minute walk. The town, whose name turned out to be Verdant Valley, didn’t hold much more than a thousand Pokemon, or so George believed: He still thought in human terms, of course. For all he knew, there were plenty more smaller Pokemon living here. There were a few in the streets, actually, all busy working on something.

Half an hour after meeting Porov, George went back outside after getting a check up. Porov was nowhere to be seen, however. He looked around, only to jitter when a large finger tapped on his shoulder.

“Oi me boy, what did the doc say?”

George’s tail flopped on the ground ‘A simple hello would’ve worked too…’ “She diagnosed me with ‘Pre-evolutionary cramps’.”

“Cramps?!” Blitzer jumped for joy the moment the word was said. “A-are you close to evolving already?! George! This is amazing! That’s what I had too!” His tail roared to life with him.

‘Do I… am I really about to evolve?’ George bit his lip. “But wait, I’ve had them for way longer. You only had them for like, ten days or so? I’ve been dealing with these for weeks.”

Porov got in front of him and leaned down on his knuckles. “Aye. Cramps are different for everyone, me boy. When I was just a lil’ Darumaka, I had ‘em for a solid two months. Yet it still came. ‘Tis always a great moment when it does happen! Just gotta weather the storm.”

“Yeah!” Blitzer slid down on his knees; once again, George wasn’t sure how he looked both cute and menacing and the same time. “You said it’s been getting worse, hasn’t it? That means it’s getting closer and closer! It’s gonna be right around the corner, it has to!”

George gulped. ‘I guess… just when I was starting to get used to this body, too.’

“Heh…” Porov had a devious grin on his face. “Just make sure yer done before we get the flute piece, me boy. I wanna see Dewott George holdin’ it up, ya hear?”

In an instant, George’s eyes went wide. “Hey! Not out loud like that! What if someone hears and goes telling all of that around?” he said in a hushed tone, his eyes going back and forth over the street. No one was looking at them.”

George’s ears shot right up as a silly chuckle reached his ears, courtesy of Porov. It kept getting louder as well; once again, no one else was watching.

“Heheheheh, Georgy. Ye know what I’ve been up to here these past few weeks, haven’t ye?”

“N-no, I haven’t,” George grumbled, still stumbling over his words.

“Well, why don’t we ask ‘im right there?” Porov pointed at the Charmeleon playing with his claws right next to them. “Oi, Blitzer, me boy! Did ye notice that there ain’t many greenie uggos ‘round these parts?”

Blitzer’s tail flopped onto the ground with a thud as he stood up straight. “Uh, of course! Well, actually, uh, no… kind of, but uh, I didn’t think too much of it, actually. This place has just seemed pretty normal to me. The lack of Soldiers probably has a lot to do with that.”

Porov reared onto his hindlegs, then pounded his chest. “Bravo, bravo me boy! Now, why’d ye think that is, hm?”

The Charmeleon scratched his neck. “Well… no doubt you got something to do with it. Actually, scratch that, you’ve got a lot to do with it. Look, it’s practically written all over your face! Smiling like you got something cool to tell. Say it!”

“Well, if ye insist!”

The Darmanitan suddenly threw his arms around them both, getting a chirp and a gasp out of them before he reeled his catch in. George once again found his feet leaving the air, while Blitzer suffered all of a single step forward. He gritted his teeth, then shook his head.

‘You know what, bless the itches. Evolving sounds fantastic right about now, ugh. Why does everyone find this normal?’

Porov angled his head until his black pendant was right in between them. “Heheh. So, not gonna brag too much, but I’m someone who likes a big good job. Love me work and take pride in all I do. And ye know what? I like to see my jobs perfectly well done, too. Past few weeks, there was quite the Soldier presence in this area. Now I ain’t cleared ‘em all out yet, but hoo boy did I do quite the number on ‘em with some Alliance buddies from around here! This place’s got quite the good Alliance presence, lemme tell ya!”

“Yeah, and is that why there’s no Soldiers here?” Blitzer questioned. “But aren’t we right next to the place the flute piece is kept? You’d think they’d have this place locked down.”

‘My thoughts exactly.’ George hummed a dull note.

“Pfft.” Porov clicked his tongue. “Well, they sure do. They’re tryin’ their hardest, but ye always got ways ‘round it. Been rallying the people around here to finally take a stand against the Crest. And heh, been beatin’ plenty of ‘em up too in the countryside. And guess what? Even with all the people they got, they can’t cover everything. Like ol’ Verdant Valley here. This place is full of Alliance people, me boys. Just have a look around ye.”

George looked over his shoulder. A Centiskorch slithered past him at the same time, and they made eye contact. He got a friendly, knowing chitter from them, and another from a Durant moments later.

“Oh, huh? Well, that explains a lot!” Blitzer laughed.

“Sure does! These are good folks. Lots of Buggies here, but plenty of larger folks like me ‘round here too. They’ve been sittin’ around quietly, just managin’ their lives under the Crest and all, hopin’ things would get better eventually. And that’s what we did, alright. For one, we’ve been beatin’ the Crest ‘round here, ‘course. Ain’t nothing quite as good as punchin’ the local taxman in the stomach, hah! But that ain’t the big one, no. The big one?”

His eyes fell on George. “That’s ye here, me boy.”

George blinked slowly. “...Me? Because I’m the Othersider?”

Porov leaned forward on his knuckles. “Damn straight! Kid, ye got no idea how much ye being here means to all of us. Yer hope. A big one at that. Othersiders in the past always looked beyond the way we Pokemon think, and ‘cause of that? Yeh, saved a whole load of lives. And yer here to deal with the Crest, ‘course. That’s the other thing I’ve been doing. Spreadin’ the word ‘bout you!”

George’s ears went flat against his head. He thumbed his nose in defiance. “Listen, you’re not going around telling people I’m some magical… knight in shining armor, or whatever, right? No one in the base is telling themselves that. Artanouk sure isn’t.”

“‘Course not, but ye mean somethin’ more! Ye being here means the ol’, err, ol’ creator’s supporting this. That’s how we’re gonna win people over here. With hope!”

With a deep breath, George put his hands on his sides. “Are you sure about that?” ‘This sounds like an absolutely awful plan.’

“Course I’m sure!” Porov elbowed Blitzer. “Right, me boy?”

Blitzer had a toothless, goofy grin on his face. “Why wouldn’t it? George sure gave me hope during my darkest time. He’s helped me become more confident, stronger, happier, kinder, a better person… Why wouldn’t he be able to do the same for other people? Sure, he can’t be friends for everyone, but you inspire me lots.”

Porov’s eyebrows flared right up. “He inspires all of lots, me boy. Ye see that, Georgie? ‘S how just yer friend alone thinks of ye. Now think ‘bout the rest of us here. Ye got that quality in ye, y’know? Yer gettin’ stronger so damn fast, it’s a lil scary! For the Crest, of course, hah!”

George rubbed himself on his arms. ‘Thanks, I guess. Well, more Blitzer than anyone. He’s helped me out too. What am I supposed to have taught anyone else?’

Porov took the two on a walk through Verdant Valley, greeting locals as they went about their day. Sure enough, he had put a good word in: Most winked and waved at George in particular, with Blitzer catching a few by happenstance. Then again, a water type in a land of fire and steel was bound to catch some attention.

It wasn’t a short walk, either. They covered just about every street, greeting and taking the surroundings in. Roads made from gravel with poppies growing beside them, communal berry gardens where a few reptilians caught sun, the people here were making due with what they had. On the outside. Aside from the berries, no one showed themselves eating anything in public. That was better left indoors, away from prying eyes.

“See? They trust ye, lad. ‘Tis all the good stuff,” Porov explained at the end of their walk. “Just gotta prove yerself publicly, and ye’ll be trusted, me boy. Ye’ll do what’s needed for the people here. Show yerself as true and honest, and they’ll trust ye with the flute piece.”

“Do they trust both of us, though?” George asked. He shot a glance at Blitzer, who had gotten on his knees to smell the poppies at the side of the road. Porov nodded at his question.

“Again, why not? Yer both honest kiddos deep down. The opposite of what the Crest is. As long as ye both continue on this road, I don’t see why things would change.”

Blitzer chirped for their attention. He had plucked a few poppies and was smelling them still, his tail bobbing up and down all the while.

“These smell real nice,” he said.

Porov laughed out loud. “Lookie here who’s enjoyin’ himself!”

“What? They do smell nice,” Blitzer said, then chittered nervously like he was being interrogated.

Porov gave himself another pat on the chest, then wiped the smirk off his face. “Nah, ain’t a problem, me boy. Bein’ able to adapt and to stay positive is a vital trait! One ye have got that down pretty well. Othersider Georgie here can learn a thing or two from that.” He winked at George, whose brow furrowed in return.

‘Is looking before crossing seriously a bad thing…’

The Darmanitan cleared his throat. “Anyway! Why don’t we keep on goin’? Got the surroundin’ area to cover still, and I gotta tell ye a thing or two ‘bout our next few goals leading up to the festival. C’mon, let’s go!”

To say Porov was hellbent on speeding things up was an understatement. George didn’t like it, and Blitzer found it strange, but the festival wasn’t going to wait on them to be ready. Just over three weeks to prove themselves to the locals. Whether the locals were really going to part ways with their treasure was anybody’s guess. Nevertheless, they followed Porov’s lead. Neither of them knew a better path to walk.

George wasn’t a fan of that. Not one bit.