//------------------------------// // Chapter 2: Morning in Rare Form // Story: A New Tomorrow // by Luminescence //------------------------------// Sveta didn’t remember falling asleep. Only tears and an almost uncomfortable tightness about him. Of course, he had been sleeping, that much he was sure of. How else would he be waking up, he reasoned. Where other than his dreams would he, or even could he become an Eevee? He almost felt like a laugh. Bill could probably whip something up given enough time. He could think of no one else who would be crazy enough to try, and probably the smarts to do it. Still… What a dream, he thought. What vivid dreams and imagination I seem to posses, even if only in my dreams. How strange a place it must be, he thought. How strange and mystical. Ruled by a Pokemon, yet seen and felt by all. It gives at least a little credibility to those old tales. and legends. He shook his head. The science and research has disproved that a thousand times before, and a thousand times since! He almost scoffed at the notion. Besides those tales and legends are just that. Old stories for the children. A smile threatened his face, Oh yes, sure there are tales told nowadays. But those people are of ill repute even before they open their mouths. Nonsense, the lot of it… So, he had to wonder, what held his eyes still shut? Fear? Fears of the unknown, or the possibilities? Horror of the loss that may still be there? Panic at what could be there, even still? Or could it even be, a faint speck of hope? That’s enough! He thought. No use panicking over nothing. Besides even if it were real, no use delaying the inevitable. As he opened his eyes, he visibly relaxed. He was home. Or at least, as much at home as he could be on the road. His sleeping bag was still snug and warm. That must be why I was warm, he thought. His pack was by the collapsible cooktop, and the rest of his party was resting on the leanto by the hollow log. The small table still held the remains of their tin utensils, and his expedition manual was under his head. Most importantly, he was still human. His body was still covered with his smooth pinkish skin, without mark or fur. His ears, he touched were still smooth and rounded.Even with his family's large earlobes, they were much more a normal size. His body was devoid of fur, save for his light brown hair atop his head. His arms were normal, supple, had clear indications of movement ranges, and were usable.          Sveta smiled. All was right with the world. Here. He rose to wake his team At least, he tried. Now that he noticed it, there seemed to be a stiff, heavy thing that rested upon his chest. Oddly enough, when he looked there, he could see nothing. There was something there, that he knew, but it neither could be seen, nor could he touch it despite his attempts. It was then that he remembered something pertinent. His smile grew strained as he remembered himself. Smooth skin without fur. Normal ears. No fur save hair. Good usable arms. His smile grew more pained, barely eking out a pained grimace. The dull ache was back. This wasn’t him. Not any more at least. He dropped what was left of his smile and sighed. It would be over soon enough, he knew that now. It always was. It never made it any better. His world, his dreamscape slowly swirled about him, remolding him and the world around to that same old valley that awaited him in his dreams. She appeared a little distance away, always conserved and stiff at first. She had challenged him, he remembered that. He hadn’t wanted to, but Braum had been itching for a fight that day, so he thought nothing of accepting. Upon seeing Braum, the young lady cursed under her breath. It was probably about typing, but that made little difference in the end. With a yell, she sent out her Honedge. It was a relatively simple enough fight. She clearly had very little care for protection for her Pokemon, and only attacked. As such a few, wait then dodge and follow with an Aerial Ace, later and it was down to its last few pegs. The lady though, phew, she was furious at him. She screamed at him all the time, yelling something demeaning about Normals. Honestly, it was like she thought it was all up to typing. Braum probably wasn’t helping the matter, shouting something at the Honedge all the way. Sometimes, Sveta was glad he couldn’t understand Pokespeak. Finally, the lady had had enough. “Just get him!” was all she yelled. Apparently, that was all she needed to do. The Honedge flew into a flurry, a veritable dervish of slashes. Forgoing moves, it simply swung itself at horrendous speeds at Braum. He was overtaken near instantly. He remained conscious for only a few seconds during the onslaught. The Honedge didn’t seem to care, viciously hacking and slashing away. It all but killed Braum. He should have just recalled him. The lady should have called it back. He should have never fought. She was none too kind with her words, nor did her Pokemon appear to be so either. He should have realized it was a bad idea from the start. He should have known. He did none of these. His world seemed to slow down to a crawl. Considering it was the dreamscape, it probably did. He understood one thing. “That’s my family. They’re hurting my family.” He did not stop. He did not think. Never before had he thought another action would be right, nor did he now. Even in his dreams, he had this choice. He chose to act. A swift burning sensation, a cruel sounding crack, and a shrill scream was all that he knew before his world dissolved in a whirlwind of shadow and pain. Sveta jolted awake in a cold sweat. An old dream. An old dream, and a painful memory. That was all it was. That was all it was. He winced at it regardless. A swift glance at his arm only served to change his fear to confusion. The last three years, that arm, his arm, had been a crude faximile. A mechanical wonder, he had been told, but it wasn’t his. That, that device, that wasn’t him. It worked, but it wasn’t him. It let him continue his life more or less normally, but it wasn’t normal. It let him work, but he couldn’t feel it. It could only serve to remind him of what he lost. Now, he could feel it. He could feel it again. Now, this short, brown, fuzzy leg had replaced his mechanical wonder. His severed arm. His past. All that was left of it now was that old memory. This small, hairy, fingerless, stump of an arm had taken it all. Mechanical or no,this was not his. He was not this creature. He was not an Eevee. Yet, as much as he wished to deny what he had become, it was clare as he could see. He was, in fact, an Eevee. Curled up as he was nigh impossible to miss the signs. His small collar of bright cream colored fur, for legs that seemed to stick out at odd angles with no indication, nd what he could not deny, a tail. He could feel it. A disturbing bundle of nerves and muscle over his haunch, extending further than his body had any reason ot. Shuddering slightly, he shook his head, trying to rid himself of such a strange feeling. With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes to gather his thoughts I am now a Pokemon. He thought this as a statement. I am as of now, under a tree. He paused as he opened an eye before rapidly shutting it.  A willow  tree to be exact, and am in a small grove from what I can see. Frowning slightly, his ears following autonomously, he mumbled, “And my team has yet to make an appearance.” He opened his eyes, surprised it seemed. With a worried glance, he tried to spot some of his team, or more aptly, his family. Hither and yon, he looked about, but under the boroughs of the tree, neither hide nor hair could be seen. He began to worry, and that soon morphed to panic. His breath began to shorten and quicken. He felt himself begin to hyperventilate. He caught himself moments before panic overrode him completely. The rational part of his brain ran in overdrive. Stop. No. Stop. Bad. Deep Breaths. In, then out. In, then out. Breath. He told himself. After a worrisome minute or two, he began to regain his facilities. “Alright,” he murmured “Team first, then you can panic. Deal? Deal. Okay.Now, I am here, and my team is, um, not. Okay, we dealt with this. It was, well, there but now I don’t have my bag. Great. Shoot, what was it?” he grumbled to himself. “Darn it! There was even a course over this!” he all but yelled. “Come on, what was it?” Sveta was, of course, referring to Emergency Protocols for Trainers 101, more commonly known as Oh No! What Now? Most of the situations dealt with the unfortunately common occurrences that seemed to creep up with trainers. Anything from most cities property damage codes and business hours, to accidental combustion and electrocution protection, to plain old pokemon mishandeling. Most of what most trainers needed and more was covered. Specifically, he was trying to remember the chapter over Unintentional Pokemon and Trainer Separation. “Ah-HA!” he exclaimed. He actually remembered it. Mostly. “Firstly,” he more-or-less quoted, “Don’t panic. Well, blew that. Next! Contact your nearest Officer Jenny or Pokemon Ranger. Well, as I am, they’ll think that I’m the lost pokemon, so not helpful. Anything else? Hmm… Ah!  Right, meet at your pre-determined meet up point.” He smiled. Finally, some good news. He knew where that was. How could he forget? Tops had finally lost out to Felix for determining the meet up place a few years ago. It was to be the most important and official place they could find. After Felix hung out at a pizza joint for three hours, official had been added. He actually laughed a little at the memory. A nice change he thought. With a fairly ambiguous goal in mind he broke out in a toothy grin and tried to get up. It was actually rather anticlimactic. Trying to push his hands down to help shove himself up, he had forgotten somethings. Mainly that he was now a quadruped and their spines don’t move like that, and secondly he had paws instead of hands, and could feel both of them for a change. As such, when he pushed down, his “hands” felt very strange, so he pushed harder to get it away from him. Since quadrupeds rotational axis is the center of their body, not like bipeds waists, when he was shoved up too much, he fell backwards. A padded “thump” was all that his work resulted in. He blinked. He blinked again. “This,” he admitted, “could be harder than I thought.”