Bell Benson, that is your name. Remember it, and never forget it. This is one of the few things you will remember when you wake up. I'm sure you will have many questions when you awake. But it is in your best interest that I don't answer them. But what I can tell you is this. I saved you from a situation that would have meant certain death and brought you here. To a place you have never been, with people you have never met. It is a fine place, and the people are kind. But they are not the ones I worry about. I wish only the best for you, child. You could lead a peaceful life devoid of any danger if you so wanted. But I feel it wouldn't be enough, not for you. So instead, I offer you another option. There is a song that hinges in the back of my mind but will never fully form. I have spent centuries searching for it, and I am strong enough to admit that I am at the end of my rope. You are my final hope. Please, find the song for me child. Find the song, and perhaps those sepia-toned memories will be yours again. Find it, and you will find me. Now wake up.

  ----

  Act 1 - Prelude to Winter

  Chapter 1 - We'll Meet Again

  Is this what it feels like to have your life flash before your eyes? Only, instead of dying, it's like I'm being rebirthed. Images of smoky Kalosian cafes and bustling jazz bars flash in my mind. A million different things are running through my head. And they all have one thing in common. A girl. She has jet-black hair and a different hat and hairstyle every time I see her. And boy, did I see her a lot. Always surrounded by other people of course, but she's always the focal point. One second we're posing for a selfie in front of the Ferris Wheel in Nimbasa, and the next we're driving at criminally rapid speeds away from something; I can't tell what. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and there I am, in the middle of a café.

  It made me realize something: I think I like jazz.

  The café is bustling with people. Just about every table is filled with people and Pokémon; illuminated only by a few hanging lanterns that worked surprisingly well for looking so old. There's also a singular Lampent floating around the café, greeting those who entered, and thanking those who are leaving. I can't focus with everything going on in the background, but somehow I managed. My mind refocuses on the girl. We're the only two on the dance floor. She smiles and grabs me by the hands, pulling me closer to her.

  "Wanna dance?" She asks

  I shake my head. "No, not really."

  She frowns, "That's a bummer."

  She hums a simple tune as she stares at something playing on the TV in the distance. It's hard to make out through the jazz, but I swear, I recognize that song. She refocuses on me and says,

  "I guess this is goodbye then."

  "Goodbye? I don't even know who you are." I say, somewhat unfeelingly.

  Somehow that felt... untrue.

  She winces. "I guess it's working already." She says somberly, "I'd hoped you still had a little more of... you, left inside."

  I am me. Aren't I? The music in the background pauses momentarily as a man walks up to the microphone and introduces the Kricketune who would be playing next. It takes a bow.

  "I don't know what you're talking about."

  She sighs, "That's alright; you don't have to. It's only goodbye for now after all. We'll meet again, somewhere, someday."

  A hollow sentiment, it doesn't sound like she believes it. She looks so familiar. Like that nostalgic feeling you get when you smell something from your childhood, but it seems so far away, that you can't even remember why it made you nostalgic in the first place. Even if in the grand scheme of things, it was not that long ago.

  "I hope we do," I say. I hope it's true, I really do.

  She smiles sweetly and pulls out a rugged and worn Pokéball from her pocket. It looks hazardous. I'm not even holding it, and I can tell it's about to fall apart. She presses it into my arms and says, "Take this; you'll need it."

  "What's in it?" I ask.

  "You'll see." She giggles.

  I hold the Pokéball to my chest. It feels warm. Everything feels warm. You know how some people who've had heart attacks say they had a sense of impending doom right before it happened? Well, I think that's what I'm feeling. My legs feel wobbly; I can barely stand straight. Then, they give out. She catches me before I hit the floor. My fingers twitch uncontrollably.

  "What's about to happen?" I ask.

  She looks into my eyes, "I don't know, but-." She cut herself off. "Wherever you go next, whoever they say you are... just know I'm rooting for you, okay?"

  I shivered, "Okay."

  I agree. She smiles again, but it's different this time. It isn't happy or sad. It's longing. Longing for something that was, but will never be again. I can't put a word to this feeling. It's also like longing, only I don't know what for. I want to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, but alas, it wasn't meant to be. I feel my body go limp as she whispers one final thing into my ear.

  "I love you, Ja-

  She's gone. So is the café, but the music remained. It's a strange feeling to not remember anything about yourself. It's like floating in a black void, where you can make out objects, places, and people in the distance, but they'll never fully come into view. Actually, that's the exact situation I'm in right now. Only, I'm not floating, just standing there on no perceivable ground. I hold the Pokéball to my chest as if my life depended on it. I call out for anyone, anything. But to no avail. There isn't even an echo to keep me company. Am I alone here? I hate silence; I hate it so much. I'd surely go insane in this place. I close my eyes, waiting for something to happen. That's when I heard her. The woman's voice cut through the chaos in my mind like a soothing melody in the middle of a war zone. Her voice is crystal clear; my mission is crystal clear.

  My mind went black, and then-

  My eyes flutter open at her command. I take a breath; it feels unnatural. Above me is a grey sky. I'm in Kansas anymore, whatever that means. The sudden change in atmosphere startles me immediately. I shiver; it's cold. What kind of manic wears a t-shirt in weather like this? Me. I am the maniac. I feel... broken. As if something about me isn't right. That woman, she said my name was Bell. But that doesn't feel true. Not at all. Everything feels wrong. This place, this feeling. Whatever, problems for later. I attempt to shake off these feelings of confusion and focus instead on my surroundings. In front of me is an altar, surrounded by a creek on all sides except directly behind me. It looks old, like really old. Parts of the stone arch have broken off and fallen into the creek or onto the surrounding area. Vines grow through the cracks in the stone and droop down onto the shrine below it, or is it a tomb? I don't know the difference.

  There are two, what I assume to be names, inscribed onto it. But the stone is so worn out I can't understand it. There is, however, one part of the altar that seems virtually untouched by time. The pedestal directly below the shrine is made of smooth, unbroken stone. It looks very out of place. Upon further inspection, which I am doing for some reason, there are two depressions in the stone, one in the shape of a sword, and the other a shield. Part of my mind wants to keep looking. But the other, more rational, and frankly less fun, part of my brain is telling me to get the hell out of this forest. Unfortunately, I have to agree with the angel on my right shoulder, who wasn't there because I'm not crazy. At least, I don't think I am. Anyway, I stop associating with that creepy altar, the path behind me seems to be the only way out of here.

  The best word I can use to describe this forest is... sleepy. Well, that and cold, but I don't think that's exclusive to the forest. Yeah, it's not an adjective you would usually give to a collection of trees and rivers, but it's honestly the most accurate thing I can think of. It's just so... quiet. Besides the sound of the creek, it is dead silent. I haven't seen a single Pokémon. And speaking of Pokémon, there's a Pokéball in my pocket, along with what appeared to be an alien space rock. I promise you that is exactly what it looked like. I don't want to talk about how long it took me to realize.

  Alien space rock aside, I examine the Pokéball. It's rugged and worn; just holding it feels hazardous. I silently pray that it's both a fire type and friendly. I could use some warmth right now. Figurative or literal, but literal is much preferred.

  The button in the middle of the ball is hanging on by a tenuous thread, and by that, I mean a spring. Admittedly, it was much harder to get the damn thing to work than I'd like to admit. Eventually, after some finnagling, I manage to get the button to press down. In a flash of crimson red light, the pokeball disintegrates in my hands, it falls onto the forest floor as a pile of mechanical junk. And... it's a damn Dwebble.

  "Ugh," I said.

  Oops, I probably shouldn't have said that. But come on, this was my one chance to find warmth, and it's a Dwebble. He doesn't take kindly to my reaction. He rolls his eyes and raises a small rock from the earth. It hits me right in the stomach, and it hurt. More so than I thought it would.

  "Ow—What the fuck?" I say, throwing the rock back at him. It bounces off his shell harmlessly.

  He snickers to himself.

  "Alright, fine, maybe I was being a dick." I concede. "I'm sorry."

  He nods his head, accepting my apology. Or I hope he did; I'm not very well-versed in the language of Dwebble. Unfortunately, he is. For the next few hours, he would not shut the hell up. he thinks I can understand him. And I think I'm accidentally enabling him by nodding along and agreeing with everything he says. Eventually, he shut up, and I could finally get a few words in. I explain to him my current situation, and by association, his as well. I tell him about that woman who spoke to me before I woke up and how I can't remember anything.

  He did not care. All he did is look at me like I was crazy and keep talking.

  So, back to the alien space rock. It has sharp edges and pieces of stone sticking out. The pieces sticking out are shaped like pentagons, and the spaces in between them triangles. A dim red light emanates from inside of it. The only thing I can tell you for certain was that it was not a normal rock, which is an assumption that literally anyone could make. Unless, of course, this particular person is blind and can't feel anything. Then they might think that it's a completely normal rock. Although, I think they would have bigger problems than a silly-looking rock. Anyway, enough about the stupid rock. Let's talk about the stupid forest.

  As much as I tried to ignore it, the shifting atmosphere is really fucking with me. I think it needs therapy, it's having some pretty bad mood swings. When I first arrived, the air was freezing, and the sunlight struggled to make it through the clouds, not to mention the trees. Since then, it's gone from foggy to dim to straight-up darkness, to the brightest lights imaginable beaming right down onto me and Dwebbles faces. Thankfully those lights also happened to be fairly warm, so I was rid of the cold; that was until the forest decided I was having it too nice and decided to dim the lights and turn the AC way up. I also had my fair share of accidents along the way, mostly due to a few stray tree branches and once to my poor shoe-tying skills. So on top of freezing my ass off, I also have a gash on my elbow. Although, it's so cold that the pain is getting more manageable with every passing minute.

  If you decide to factor in what a shitty companion Dwebble is, you can start to imagine how torturous this walk is. To distract myself from this hell of a hike, I ask Dwebble,

  "Can I name you?"

  It feels weird just calling him Dwebble, It would be much better if I could call him by a name.

  He stops yapping for a moment and shrugs, which I'm pretty sure means yes. Alright, the first thing that comes to mind...

  "What about Rocky?"

  I'll admit, it's not very original, or creative, or interesting, or literally anything other than bland. But- look at a Dwebble and tell me Rocky isn't a fitting name. He deadpanned, probably because of my lackluster naming skills, but then shrugged. So, maybe my name isn't bad after all?

  ---

  I'm starting to think this place is endless.

  Although, I am starting to see signs of life. I can't exactly see the Pokémon, but I can hear them. That's got to mean something right? Sure enough, I find the exit a little while later. Relief washes over me as I spot the sprawling grass fields in the distance. My relief soon turns to terror, however, when I realize that it is much colder out here than in the forest. Also, the sky is as overcast as it can get, so what the hell was all that shit going on in the forest? Whatever, I won't get much out of thinking about this right now.

  Like I said, the forest led me into what looked to be endless fields of grass. I can see a town in the distance, but man, is it far. Unluckily, I have Rocky to keep me company. He thinks the sound of my chattering teeth made is the funniest thing he's ever heard, so much so that he decided to imitate it himself. How is he not cold? It's probably pretty warm inside that rock.

  "Y-you think this is f-funny?"

  I shouldn't have said anything. Now he's making fun of my stutter. I could not have asked for a more annoying Pokémon as a starter. To make matters worse, he hates grass, for some fucking reason. He refuses to walk on it, and since his Pokeball is currently a pile of junk a few miles back, my shoulder has unwillingly become his designated seat. If it were any other Pokemon, I'd think it was cute, but he's got to weigh at least ten pounds. So, I continue this grueling hike with a ten-pound rock on my shoulder. The more I think about it, it probably weighs a lot more than that. But who am I to complain? I'm just the one freezing his ass off. On the way to the town, I come across a few farms. They always have these adorable sheep-looking Pokemon that bayed at me as I passed by. I have to physically restrain myself from petting them. It's probably best not to touch a species I know nothing about.

  Eventually, we reach a path paved with gravel, and I swiftly kick Rocky off my shoulder. It looks like the path can take us to the town. Also, I still have not put any thought into where the hell I am. It's not Unova, that place is a never-ending heatwave. That also rules out Alola, in which you are never more than a few feet away from a Yungoos. I guess it could be Kanto or Johto, which are more on the foresty side of things, but something in my gut tells me that's not it. I'm leaning towards either Sinnoh or Galar, both of which are at least semi-cold all year round.

  Man, my amnesia is oddly selective. I can remember random geography facts, but not my life before today. Whatever, more problems for later. If the last few hours have taught me anything, it is that the cold is not conducive to a productive thinking session. The two thoughts currently vying for control over my mind are 'I'm cold' and 'Is it getting warmer? Or am I going numb?'

  Eventually, I make it to the town. And now I'm wondering if I traveled through space and time a few hundred years back because this place looks ancient. The houses are made of stone, not stone bricks, just stones. The roofs are painted red, and all of the roads are paved with dirt, and not well-maintained dirt. Arceus, that sounds silly, but it's true. It's bumpy and uneven to walk on. Can you even drive on this? Well, I guess you can, but it's not going to be very pleasant. Come to think of it, I haven't seen any cars around here. Also, not a single person is out and about. Is it still morning? I was in that forest for hours. So either I had woken up much earlier than I thought, or that place doesn't care about the laws of time, and spit me out in the damn 1800s. Which is just as likely considering my current situation. My suspicions are furthered by my discovery of an ancient-looking newspaper machine in front of an old rustic building that looked important. Do people even read these anymore?

  I can't buy a newspaper, broke as a joke as they say. But the machine is kind enough to let me read the first page without needing to pay. How nice of it, even if it's probably just a tactic to get people to actually buy the thing. It tells me a few things. One, I'm not in the 1800s; this town is just old. Two, this town's name is Postwick, which is in Galar. I subconsciously let out a groan. It's not that I hate Galar; it just wouldn't be my first choice for an all-expenses-paid vacation. Plus, they aren't exactly known for having the tastiest cuisine, especially to foreigners, which I very much am. Three, Wedgehurst is the name of the neighboring town, and much to my delight, it was home to a Pokémon professor. Maybe they can tell me what's going on with me. I bid the newspaper machine adieu; yes, I spoke to a newspaper machine. It's been much more helpful than Rocky, who has been pretending to understand the words on the paper and nodding along as I was reading it.

  "Oh, so you can understand this?" I ask.

  He nodded.

  "Okay, so can you tell me what the Professor's name is?"

  He stayed silent. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

  Then he started throwing a big fit, and I once again wished I hadn't said anything. I ignored him and went on my way.

  Postwick is a tiny little town. I have only walking for about 30 minutes, and already I've reached the 'You are leaving Postiwick' sign. There's another dirt road leading out of the town; hopefully, it'll lead me to Wedgehurst. The terrain is so flat, why can't I see it from this distance? That has me a little worried if I'm being honest. I'm also starting to get hungry, which I'm surprised didn't happen earlier. Worries be gone, I have walking to do.

  The road eventually led us to a sign that said 'Route 1 Ahead.' I'm not sure about Galar, but I know other regions don't allow you to go on routes without at least one Pokémon, so, I guess Rocky is good for something. I follow the sign that points towards the aforementioned route. Hopefully, it's not too long or filled with Pokémon that want to kill me. I had anticipated both of these things. What I hadn't anticipated, however, was the yellow tape blocking the entrance to the route. I also didn't anticipate the girl staring down the route as if she'd just been locked out of a concert she'd paid to go to. My very specific analogy aside, I call out.

  "Hey!"

  I don't have a plan. I'm kind of just hoping she can provide some insight. Maybe she can tell me how to get to Wedgehurst since this path seems to be out of order.

  I don't think she heard me. She's muttering under her breath just loud enough for me to hear.

  "Stupid storm..." She fidgets with her fingers. "Close the route... mess up my plans."

  I walk up to her and tap her on the shoulder. "H-

  I only saw her face for a split second before her fist met my face, and I found myself on the ground. Rocky's stupid laugh fills my ears. My face feels warm, which is nice. What isn't nice, however, is the searing pain in my nose, which began bleeding incessantly. I sat there for a few seconds, processing what had just happened before I spoke up.

  "What the fuck?"

  "You scared me." She says.

  "No shit." I stand up. "You punch everyone who scares you? I called for you."

  "I didn't hear."

  "Clearly," I say.

  I attempt to stop the bleeding by pinching my nose together. When that proves too painful, I try using my shirt to stop it from getting everywhere. However, it's already too late for that. I guess she pities on me, for an injury she inflicted. She tosses me a handkerchief, I guess Galarians still use those.

  "Use it." She says

  "I was planning on it."

  She's wearing a green hat. I want to call it a beret, but I don't think it is. She's also wearing a gray hoodie that looked much warmer than this stupid T-shirt.

  "I'll forgive you if you let me wear that hoodie."

  She laughs. "And get blood over it? Hell no."

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  That's... reasonable actually. Luckily, I don't think she broke my nose, I think it would hurt a lot more if she had. I spent a moment cleaning all of the blood from my face. It wouldn't be a good look if I just waltzed into town with my face painted red. Although, I would still be walking into town wearing a blood-stained shirt, so I'm not sure how much this is going to help. I wait for Rocky to stop laughing, but apparently, his crab lungs can hold infinite amounts of air. I give him a good kick, not hurt him, I doubt I could do that even if I tried, but it was enough to get him to shut up.

  "So-

  "Goodbye." She cuts me off.

  What?

  "What?"

  She pushes past me and begins walking back to Postwick. Very normal interaction I'm having here. Galar sucks.

  "Wait! What the fuck? You can't just punch me in the face and then leave." I exclaim.

  "Why not?"

  Why not? Why not?! I can think of a lot of reasons why not. Unfortunately, I am better at thinking than I am at speaking. So instead of standing up for myself, I end up sounding like a little kid trying to justify to their mother why their brother was at fault. Except in this case, the metaphorical brother actually is at fault.

  "Well, um... well, it really hurt, first of all,"

  That was lame.

  "It was supposed to." She says, still not looking at me.

  "And second, you're being a real dick- and," I add before she can retort, "I am very lost."

  "Lost?" She turns around. "In this place? With two routes and two towns?"

  I don't think I could have been more clear. I'm starting to think she doesn't like me.

  "I'm a little new around here," I say.

  Understatement of the year.

  "Sucks for you." She said. "I'm not helping you. Just use your phone."

  "I don't have one."

  "I'm still not helping you."

  Man, this girl is cruel. She isn't doing anything to sway my already negative opinion of Galar. In fact, she's actively making it worse.

  "I think you owe me," I say before she can turn around and start walking away again.

  "Owe you? I've never met you."

  I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, but whatever.

  "You just punched me in the face. This is the only shirt I own, you know." An unfortunate truth that may work in my favor. "I think you can do me one small favor."

  She stares daggers into my soul. I don't budge, even if her stare is kind of scary.

  "What do you want?" She yields.

  That's what I like to hear. Ew, that sounded creepy.

  "Professor Magnolia, take me to her."

  She looks dejected. "What? Why do you need to see her?"

  Oh great, she knows what I'm talking about. I was afraid she would have no idea who I was talking about, or where to take me. That's one problem out of the way, unfortunately, a new one has just been created. Why do I need to see her? Do I tell her the truth, or do I lie? It's a tricky question to be sure. But I'm going to lie.

  "Oh you know, we just need to talk about... tea."

  Great lie. Good lie. Really Amazing lie. I could not have told a better lie if I tried. And I really should have tried.

  "Tea?" Even though it was a question, she didn't seem all that confused.

  "Yes. tea, can you take me to her or not?"

  With such a convincing lie. I don't think any human alive could say no.

  She sighed, "You're lucky I was going to see her today anyway."

  Fuck. Yes.

  "Really? Because it looked like you were going to give up." I jabbed.

  Alright, maybe I'm the one being a jerk now. But, I think I'm entitled to a few rude remarks, especially after my masterclass in the art of deception.

  "Shut up." She says. "Route 1 is closed, it's a long walk."

  "Oh joy, I love walking."

  She groans. I'm not that annoying, am I?

  ---

  She was right, the walk was long and tiring. But compared to the hike I've been on since I woke up, it's not too bad. At least there's gravel for Rocky to walk on. Speaking of him,

  "A Dwebble, where'd you find that?" She asks.

  She hasn't spoken since we started walking, this was the first thing she said.

  "He was a gift." I lie. Well, it could be a lie. Truth is, I have no idea where the little shitball or his Pokéball came from.

  "Hm."

  That's the extent of the conversation she was willing to initiate. Unfortunately for both of us, silence, as I am now finding out, makes me uncomfortable.

  "So." Her fingers twitch, but she doesn't say anything. I take that as my cue to continue. "Is it always this cold?"

  She shakes her head. "Not this time of year."

  So I just happen to show up on the coldest day of the summer? Coincidence? Probably. But maybe, just maybe, I'm somehow responsible for this storm she was talking about. But how? Whatever, add that to the list of problems for later. Right now, I want to know this girl's name.

  "I'm Bell-" I cough. "By the way."

  That felt wrong.

  "Bell? That's your name?"

  I can't tell if she's making fun of the name, or genuinely asking if that's my name.

  "I think so."

  "So it's a nickname."

  "No, it's my name."

  She turns to me for the first time since we started walking, "So then why'd you say I think so-

  "It's complicated."

  She turns back. "If you say so."

  ...

  "And?"

  "And what."

  "You're not gonna tell me your name?" I ask.

  I thought it was common courtesy to say your name after someone introduces themselves. Granted, it wasn't much of an introduction, but it's still more information than she's giving me.

  "I don't have one."

  I involuntarily laugh, "You don't have one?"

  "Nope!"

  That can't be true. Unless Galarians have some strange tradition I've never heard of, which may very well be the case, considering I've never heard of most things, and Galarians are the weirdest people on the planet. Unless you count those people who put ranch on every food imaginable, in which case, those guys take the cake and it's not even close. Anyway, back to Jane Doe.

  "So can I give you one?"

  She frowns. "No, absolutely not."

  Bummer.

  "So-

  "It's Stella, Arceus." She says

  "Nice name."

  "If you say so." She says again.

  ...

  More silence. I should say something stupid.

  "So do you always talk to yourself or-

  "Do you ever shut up?" She asks..

  Maybe I shouldn't have said that. "Is that a hypothetical question or..." I trail off.

  "No. It's me telling you to shut the hell up. You're lucky I'm even doing this for you. Keep talking and I'll leave you here and walk back to Postwick without a second thought." She finished.

  "Jeez, tell me how you really feel- alright alright I'm sorry," I add that last part when she begins to turn her head at me slowly. That couldn't possibly end well. "Can I just say one more thing?"

  "Make it quick."

  "I like your hat."

  She trips. On what, I have no idea. She manages to catch herself, which, I gotta say, is a real shame.

  "I hate this hat."

  "Then why wear it?"

  She doesn't respond to that. She only shivers.

  ---

  The walk took a lot longer than both she and I had anticipated. Most of that, however, was due to a rogue Dubwool who had somehow escaped one of the nearby farms. As such, the rangers had taken control of the area and halted any on-foot travel. Stella had some very specifically worded feelings about them. I'll tell you this much: she really has a way with words. By the way, Wooloo, (those sheep-looking Pokémon from earlier) feel every bit as fluffy as they look. I had the chance to pet one when the Rangers stopped us in front of one of those farms. I already like them more than Rocky, who has contributed absolutely nothing except a few headaches. Stella's Scorbunny had been infinitely more helpful. She had released him from a Pokéball she kept in her hoodie's pocket after about the tenth time I had asked, 'Are we there yet?'. He didn't magically remove all of the cold from the air, but it was certainly helping, unlike Rocky, who is proving himself to be more of a yapper than I am. At least he had found someone else to annoy in Scorbunny. He threw small rocks at the little guy in an attempt to provoke him. Unfortunately for him, he seemed to enjoy kicking the rocks back at him with much more force than Rocky had initially thrown them. This evolved into some strange competition where Rocky grew increasingly frustrated at his inability to land a hit on the rabbit. It was both entertaining and intensely gratifying to watch.

  Unfortunately, now that the rangers have permitted us to keep walking, it has become excruciatingly silent again. And you know me; I have to say something. I figured her threat from earlier was null now, considering we'd waited for the rangers to get that Dubwool under control for thirty minutes and had been walking for god knows how long. Also, my legs are begging me to sit down. Apparently, the me before today wasn't much for staying in shape. Would I change that? Probably not. But at least I have myself to blame it on.

  "So, where'd you get him?" I ask. If she's allowed to ask where I got Rocky, I'm allowed to ask where she got Scorbunny. Admittedly, I had semi-lied to her. But she doesn't know that.

  "He was actually a gift."

  Okay, I guess she does know that.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

  "I mean, that Dwebble isn't yours, is it?"

  Rocky seems to take offense to this. Don't ask me why, because I have no idea. He jeers at her, attempting to mock her voice. She ignores him.

  "And how do you figure that?" I ask.

  "Where's his Pokéball?"

  Damn, she got me. Kind of, sort of. He is still my Pokémon, but this is not a good look for me.

  "It's, well..." I stumble over my words for a second before I realize it would do me no harm to just tell the truth. "It broke."

  She scoffs, "It broke? How?"

  Just tell the truth.

  "I dropped it." Godamnit. Why did I lie? The truth is arguably more believable than whatever crock of shit just came out of my mouth. It's fine, I can still fix it. I continue, "Into a lake."

  River! Why didn't I say river? Then I could just say the stream carried it away. Past me, screw you for carrying around such a shitty Pokéball.

  "Yeah, that'll do it." She says.

  Wait, is she serious?

  "Really?-"

  "No!"

  "Oh."

  "Obviously not, those things are waterproof." She said.

  Well. I did not know that. With the gift of hindsight, I guess that makes sense. You wouldn't want your Pokéball breaking on you because your asshole sister thought it would be funny to push you into a lake—

  My mind goes blank for a moment. What was I thinking?

  "Just admit that Dwebble isn't yours. You can only find those in the wild area anyway."

  The what?

  "Alright, I lied. But only about the lake thing." I make sure to add, "It just wore out. I pressed the button once and the thing just collapsed in my hands."

  She laughs. "You are so full of shit."

  That's the first bit of actual emotion she's shown so far. I'll take it, even if it is at my expense. Although, why is it so unbelievable? Don't Pokéballs get worn out?

  "I'm being serious." I insist.

  "Sure you are." She says. "You know how long it would take for a Pokéball to wear out that much?"

  I don't know. A few years?

  "A few years?"

  "Decades more like." She says. "Even the cheapest ones are built like bricks."

  "Uh-huh, and why do you know so much about Pokéballs?" I ask.

  I didn't think that was an offensive question. And it isn't, but to her, I guess it is. She followed up my question with a single grunt and went back to not saying a thing. I think I had hurt her feelings with what was probably the most normal question I had asked since I woke up. Besides when I asked about the weather. I didn't want to leave her feeling bad, so I did what I'd been doing this whole time, and kept talking.

  "So you believe me now?" I ask.

  "No." She hesitantly kept going. "If he really is yours, then where'd you get him?"

  Now that one, I don't have an answer for. I doubt I could even come up with a convincing lie. Not that I could do that for a different question. We've already established I'm a terrible liar. But I can't exactly tell her the truth.

  Actually, I can. What's stopping me? The fact that it's a ridiculous story, and nobody in their right mind would ever entertain it for even a second? Probably. But I think we've also established that this girl isn't in her right mind. My blood-soaked shirt is evidence of that. Plus, has the fear of embarrassment ever stopped me before? Not that I know of.

  I ignore her question and ask, "Can I tell you something that's going to sound like a huge lie?"

  "I'd prefer it if you didn't."

  I don't know what that means.

  "Great! I'm gonna tell you anyway."

  She groans and recalled Scorbunny, a cruel punishment, but I didn't mind. Those are the words of a foolish man, a foolish man who could still feel the lingering warmth for a few seconds after she recalled the bunny. I became increasingly cold as I told my increasingly ridiculous story. She re-released Scorbunny; I guess she pitied me, or maybe she just couldn't understand what I was saying through my chattering teeth, although I wouldn't be surprised to learn she can't understand what I was saying either way. It all sounds like incoherent gibberish to me, and I'm the one talking. Her first takeaway was not what I expected it to be.

  "You were in the slumbering weald?"

  "The what?"

  "The forest." She elaborates. "That's what it's called."

  "Yeah, it fucking sucked," I say.

  "How'd you get in there?" She sounds bewildered, baffled, or any other words that meant extremely confused/surprised. "The rangers keep that place on lockdown 24/7."

  Did I not just tell her?

  "I just told you."

  "Oh." She says. "You were being serious?"

  "Yes, I was being serious!" I exclaim.

  "I thought you were just trying to embellish your story about going into the weald." She says.

  "I don't even know what embellish means."

  It's true. It sounds like a kind of condiment. Ketchup, relish, and embellish. Sounds good to me.

  "So, none of that was bullshit?" She asks.

  "No," I say.

  "Prove it."

  Prove it?

  "Prove it?" I ask. "Prove it how? Are my fashion choices not evidence enough?"

  She shrugs. "I guess."

  She's right to ask for evidence, as annoying as it might be. Then it dawns on me. The alien space rock. It's not 'evidence' per se, but maybe having some strange extraterrestrial object will be enough to convince her that I'm not lying.

  "I have this thing." I yank the strangely shaped rock out of my pocket. "Any idea what it is?"

  She does a double take on the rock and then rushes over to me to get a better look. "Where did you get that?"

  "Woke up with it," I say.

  "Let me see it."

  She yanks it out of my hands.

  "You're welcome," I say.

  She pulls out a pair of glasses from her inventory and puts them on. She examines the rock like one of those pawn shop owners about to give a bar of pure gold a four-dollar valuation.

  "So how much can I get for it?"

  She looks up. "What?"

  Yeah, I didn't expect her to get that one. "Nothing," I say. "Can you tell me what it is?"

  She hands the rock back. "It's a wishing star."

  A what now?

  "A what?"

  "Arceus, are you deaf too?" She asks.

  "Nono, I heard you," I said. "What the fuck is a wishing star?"

  Was I supposed to make a wish? Did I miss my chance? Because if so, gosh darn it.

  "Its-" She cut herself off. "Let's just... get to the professors. She can tell you all about it."

  "Can't you?" I ask.

  It seemed like she was already about to do so.

  "No, I can't." She says. "Now let's go."

  "Yes, ma'am," I salute.

  She didn't like that one at all.

  ---

  By the time we arrived in Wedgehurst, it was already dark, even though it was only five in the afternoon, in the middle of summer. Galar sucks, hard.

  On the bright side, Wedgehurst looks like a normal town with normal-looking buildings, unlike Postwick. It has asphalt roads and sidewalks. Sidewalks! Sidewalks and roads, can you believe it? I was starting to think Galar was just a never-ending field of grass with a singular medieval ghost town smack dab in the middle. According to Stella, Postwick only has a population of about 500. She is included in that number. Wedgehurst is the only big city in southernmost Galar. I haven't seen any of the houses yet, but I have to imagine they are made of gold and have toilets with bidets because they're better than toilet paper in every way. Unless you live in Orre, in which case, I imagine using toilet paper is preferable to contracting some awful disease from a bidet spouting water from your local polluted lake. Enough about toilet sprinklers though, let's talk more about the city.

  Is what I would say if Stella didn't immediately pull us into some dimly lit, medieval-looking part of town. Seriously, what purpose do these streetlights serve if they're not going to be on at night? And Just when I thought I had reached real civilization.

  "Where are we?" I ask. "Why is it so damn dark?"

  "Gildtree Avenue," She responds. "The streetlights have been broken for years."

  "Why?"

  "Don't ask me," She says. "Professors lab is this way."

  "Will she still be there?" I ask.

  "It's only five," She says. "I don't know why the weather is being like this, but she'll be there."

  "If you're sure," I say.

  "I am."

  The only thing illuminating the street is the moonlight and a few streetlights that still worked, albeit barely. The professor's laboratory sticks out like a sore thumb, even in the darkness. The place is overgrown to hell, but looked much more modern than the buildings surrounding it. There is a very suspicious-looking olive tree in front of one of the windows, even Stella thinks it's weird, judging from the look on her face when we walk by it. She doesn't say anything about it though, like she has been doing all day. The lab looks to be about 2 stories tall and had what I assume to be a greenhouse in the back. Stella uses the knocker on the front door to call for the professor. It's shaped like a small round bird with a few tufts of feathers above its eyes.

  It takes a moment for her to open the door. Now, I'm not sure what I was expecting her to look like, but I wasn't expecting an old lady. That's not a jab at her, It's just not what I was expecting. I'm sure there are plenty of old professors who do their job just as well as young professors. They probably do it better actually. I'm not trying to be rude. I swear. I swear on Rocky's life.

  "Stella?" She says. "I wasn't expecting you today."

  "Yeah, I wasn't either." She responds. "Can we come in?"

  She moves to the side to reveal she isn't alone. I give her an awkward little wave.

  "Oh my goodness." She says, probably noticing my blood-stained clothes. "Yes, come in."

  I pushed past Stella and enter the lab. Words can't describe the relief I felt when the cold leave my body. I'm never wearing a T-shirt in this Arceus awful region again. You can quote me on that, and please do. The lab is brightly lit, so much so that it momentarily blinded me when I rushed in. There was a small kitchen on the left and a library so tall that I'm sure it blocked any natural light coming in through those windows. The professor's voice goes in one ear and out the other for a moment until Stella pulls me back to reality.

  "Bell!"

  Hey, she used my name. I think.

  "Huh?"

  She motions towards the professor.

  "Oh!" I say. "Sorry, thank you for letting us in ma'am."

  Did that sound polite? I don't think I'm very good at being polite.

  "It's my pleasure... Bell was it?" She asks.

  This is only the first time someone has asked for my name, but I can already tell I'm going to hate it.

  "Yup," I exaggerate the 'Y' a little bit.

  "Do you want some tea?" She asks.

  Tea? Is this is why my tea lie from earlier seemed so convincing? Is she some sort of tea connoisseur? Or is it just a Galarian thing? Both are equally as likely. Arceus, why am I even overthinking this? She's just offering me tea. Of course I want tea! I haven't had anything to drink all day.

  "Yes please," I say. "That would be great."

  She walks over to the kitchen and grabs a kettle from the stove. I thought she was going to start preparing it, but instead, she starts pouring it into a small teacup. Is having tea ready at a moment's notice also a Galarian thing? Anyway, she hands me the cup. I was prepared to down the whole thing in one swig, but it turns out tea is served hot, so I'm forced to drink it like a normal person. Pity.

  "So." The professor starts. I could tell Stella wanted to talk to her, but it seems she wanted to talk to me first. "How did... all of this happen? Was it Stella?"

  I swallow. I don't want to snitch on Stella, but she's put me on the spot. And as we've established, I am an awful liar. Plus, this woman is supposed to be smart, she's not going to be fooled by some twerpy kid. I'm talking about Stella by the way, because I totally folded.

  Stella mutters something under her breath as I admit to the professor what she had done. She then reprimands her in a stern voice that I know old ladies are capable of, but let me tell you, it is much scarier hearing it in person. It was a little satisfying to see her getting scolded, but it's not the reason I'm here. She shrinks down like a little kid being scolded by their parents, as did her Scorbunny despite doing nothing wrong. Amused by this, was Rocky. I think he's still upset at Scorbunny for not letting him pelt him with rocks. She issues me an apology as a result of the professor's scolding. I accept since it sounds like she means it, and isn't just issuing a half-assed apology.

  As a sort of peace offering, she gifts me a green sweater. She says she had bought it for her granddaughter, but that it didn't end up fitting her. I accept it graciously. This is the kind of benevolence I'm talking about, not tossing a handkerchief to the guy you just assaulted. Once all of that was done with, we finally got down to business. We both sit down at the kitchen table while Stella stands awkwardly to the side with her arms crossed.

  "So why are you here Bell?" She asks. "I'm sure you didn't come all this way just to tell me about Stella's temper."

  I sip on the tea. This stuff is actually pretty good. "You're right about that..." I trail off.

  I have come all this way, walked all day to get here. And yet, I haven't prepared any kind of speech. Which, now that I'm on the spot, seems like a pretty big oversight. I let out some strange guttural noise as I struggle to put into words the events of the past few hours. Sure, I've already done it once with Stella, but that was different. It didn't really matter what I told her because I didn't expect her to believe me anyway. But this woman? I have to get her on my side or I'll never figure out what's going on. On the other hand, old people are wise. Magnolia especially, seems like she knew what she knows how to discern what's real, and what's bullshit. I mean, I feel like that's a pretty essential skill to have as a Professor.

  "Go on," Stella says, "Tell her what you told me."

  "I'm trying," I say.

  And try I did. Just like before, it all sounded like incomprehensible gibberish to me. I knew for a fact that I was telling the truth, and somehow it still sounded like a lie. The professor listened intently, hanging onto my sentences as if I were telling the most compelling story ever. Maybe I was, I can't imagine Wedehurst and Postwick getting much action. I was out of breath when I finished.

  She thinks. She thinks for a long while. Does she believe me? She probably thinks I'm full of shit. I mean, who would ever think that a story like that could hold any-

  "I believe you." Says the mind reader.

  Most of my worries vanish in an instant. Well, except the one about me being stranded in Galar with no memories. That one is still very much there and constantly reminding me of its presence. She finally speaks again.

  "But." She says " I do not know how this could have happened."

  Welcome back worries! It's been a while.

  "Ah," I say.

  "I know you came to me thinking I could answer your questions, but I cannot."

  I've heard that one before. Well, there goes my one lead. Where the hell do I go from here?

  "Tell me more about this... 'Music Deity.'" She asks.

  I guess that's one way to describe whoever it is that was speaking to me.

  I explain to her multiple times what the woman said to me. She also seems shocked that I had seen that altar. According to her, no one has seen that place in decades. She seems fascinated by my tale. And who wouldn't? I suppose that's a little vain of me, but let's be honest, I am one interesting guy. Anywho, I end up telling her the same story three times. It's not a very long story, but it's the message that intrigues her. She broaches the idea that a legendary Pokémon may be responsible, for no other Pokémon can erase memories to this extent. She paces around the lab with her hand to her chin, I'd be lying if I said it didn't look like something straight out of a TV show. Stella doesn't do much except make snide remarks and mumble to herself and her Scorbunny. I also show her the wishing star, she tells me she can turn it into something called a 'Dynamax Band' if I wanted. I have no idea what that is, so all I say is 'cool' and let that be that.

  She offers two solutions, only one of which sounds appealing to me. The first is to stay here in Wedgehurst until she could either find out what was happening to me or find me a place to live if I so wanted to. Which I don't, by the way. I do not want to live here. I cannot stress that enough. The second, and much more proactive option is to look for this song.

  "And how would I do that?" I ask.

  "Well, you would already have a head start with a Dynamax band, may I suggest the gym challenge?" She said, "Or, whatever it is they're calling it these days."

  The gym challenge. I might have amnesia, but even I know what that is. I don't think anyone doesn't. Unless you live under a rock, or Orre. Putting whatever 'Dynamax' is aside, that's not too bad of an idea. Granted, I know absolutely nothing about Galar. That includes gym leaders, towns, native Pokemon, hell, I don't even know who the champion is. That being said, I'm going with option two. I don't want to sit here in Wedgehurst twiddling my thumbs when my memories are out there somewhere. I have to start somewhere right? Plus, I think it would do Rocky some good to get into a few fights. On the whole eight badges thing, It might be a secondary goal, but that doesn't mean I'm going to half-ass it. Hell, maybe I'll find another Pokemon to balance out Rocky's... Rockyness.

  "Yes! That!" I say. "I don't really know anything about this region though."

  "Oh, I'm sure that won't be a problem." The professor turns to Stella.

  She takes her head out of her palm. "What?"

  The professor doesn't respond, only tilting her head and widening her eyes as if to say 'You know what I mean'

  And, evidently, she does know what she means.

  "No, Arceus no." She stands up. "I'm leaving."

  I don't believe her for a second. It's freezing out there, and the walk back to Postwick is going to take her at least an hour and a half.

  "Stella-

  The door slams shut. I stand corrected. Scorbunny blows a raspberry at me before following his trainer out the door.

  "What's her deal?" I ask.

  She sighs. "She just needs time, she'll come around."

  "If you say so."

  She seems pretty set in not wanting anything to do with me. Although, if that were the case, then why did she lead me here? Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was pity. I'm not sure, but one day I'll get it out of her. She'll end up being my friend whether she likes it or not. Even if that means using my irresistible charm that I was undoubtedly known for in my past life.

  My past life, is that what I'm calling it now? It feels wrong. I mean, I estimate at least 15 years of life that I just can't remember. Maybe more. Can I just disregard all of that? No, I can't. But I can certainly try. I feel a knot forming in my stomach. I put those thoughts away quickly.

  A/N: Thank you to everyone who read through this whole first chapter. Especially after reading that it takes place in Galar, since I know some people have very strong feelings about those games. But I promise I've made the story much more interesting and cohesive than the games, or at least I've tried to. If you think there's anything I could improve on feel free to leave a comment. As for updates, probably one every week or maybe more than that if I'm feeling crazy.