Chapter Text
When Cynthia was six and her baby sister was far younger, her mother walked out the door one morning and never returned. Her grandparents had tried for a few months to find her again, but to no avail, and one day, they simply gave up. Now Cynthia is no longer six, but fourteen, and she hasn't thought seriously about her mother and what might have happened to her in a very long time.
She could have set off on a pokemon journey like her mother four years ago, if she'd wanted to.
She did not want to. Neither did her sister, now ten—or if she had wanted to, she knew better than to ask.
Right now, Cynthia's only concern is keeping her best friend from getting into trouble and watching what her grandma's colleagues are getting up to deeper in the ruins from a safe distance. It's the usual suspects today—Grandpa is carefully taking notes, their friends from Veilstone are poring over the cave painting and taking lots of pictures, and while Cynthia won't deny she's curious as to why there's so much more energy in the air today than usual, it'll be much easier to just ask her grandparents later.
She has more important things to deal with right now. Or, at least, she does until someone clears their throat and suddenly the old man she didn't recognize has apparently come over to talk to her.
"Good morning, miss," he says, crouching down to where she's sitting. There's a smile faintly visible beneath his mustache. "And who might you be?"
Cynthia squints at him suspiciously. He seems alright, and one person is a lot more manageable. "I'm Carolina's granddaughter. Well—one of them. My sister doesn't care as much about this. Who are you?"
"A shame, really," the old man says before he seems to register the question. "Ah! Well, I'm Professor Rowan. I live in Sandgem Town, and... honestly, this really isn't my field of expertise, I'm just here because—"
"They found an identical painting somewhere in Mt. Coronet?" Cynthia interrupts. The little pokemon in her lap chuffs her displeasure at no longer receiving pets, and Cynthia fixes that without looking down. "Grandma told me about that. She said they were going to call in some kind of expert to help figure out how two identical paintings were in such far away places?"
Rowan nods. "Yes, although I confess I... haven't been much help with that. I was just wondering... can I pet your pokemon?"
"Sure?" Cynthia looks down at her for confirmation, then picks up the Gible under the arms and holds her up. "Her name's Aster."
"Aster?" The professor chuckles to himself and goes to scritch beneath her jaw. Aster allows this for about ten seconds before squirming her way out of Cynthia's arms. "Named after the flower, I take it?"
"No! Why does everyone..." Cynthia sighs. "No, she is not named after the flower. She's named after an asteroid, but Aster for short. It sounds better. And apparently makes everyone think I named her after a dumb flower instead of a much cooler space rock."
"Flowers are cool too," Rowan says.
Cynthia keeps her mouth shut. Adults tend not to like it when little girls correct them, and she doesn't know this professor well enough to know whether that would be him.
"Say, you said your sister didn't care about... all this..." Rowan waves a hand around, indicating the cavern around them. "But I take that to mean that you do?"
"Of course! It's fascinating. You don't want to hear that from me, though."
"Well..." Rowan shrugs. "I'll let you in on a little secret..."
"Cynthia."
He nods. "You see, everyone here has been assuming that I already know what's so special about this painting. Besides the fact that there's apparently one just like it in Mt. Coronet. I... listen, I study pokemon evolution, I'm not..."
"You want to know what the painting represents?" Cynthia tries, pulling Aster back into her lap. "Well, the running theory is that those three beings surrounding the central light are the three lake guardians- Uxie, Mesprit, and Azelf. The central light is either Dialga or Palkia, or... maybe both?"
"Both?" Rowan echoes.
"Mhm. Either it's representing two different scenarios, both involving the lake guardians surrounding a god of our reality, or... maybe it's both of them at once. There is a statue of a weird fusion between Dialga and Palkia in Eterna City—or so I'm told, I've never been myself."
"Oh! That's incredible... You haven't?"
"Maybe Dialga and Palkia used to be the same pokemon, there isn't any real evidence for it beside the paintings, and I can't exactly go up to one of them and ask."
Rowan laughs. "Yes, I feel as if you may have bigger problems if you are in a position to ask the gods questions. Though... Cynthia?"
"Hm?"
His brow furrows. "How... old are you?"
"Almost fifteen," Cynthia tells him. And she knows what he's going to ask next, so she cuts him off before he can and continues, as she has many times before, "Yes, I'm old enough to go on a pokemon journey. No, I'm not going on one, because I don't want to."
"You... don't?"
She's been through this many times before, too. But the lie catches in her throat this time around, and she finds it easier to nod than to verbally confirm anything.
"I... see. Well, far be it from my place to convince you otherwise—" But he's planning something. "—but are you sure that it's that you don't want to?"
"Positive," Cynthia lies.
"Alright." Rowan sighs. "Might I ask why?"
Because the world outside Celestic Town is a dangerous place, filled with brutal wild pokemon and trainers who demand battles merely by making eye contact and disappearing mothers. Because it's easier to think that her mother was killed and that's why she's never returned home (though she wouldn't recognize Cynthia even if she did.) Because the world is big and loud and full of too many people, too many crowds. Because...
"No," Cynthia says rather than acknowledge it.
"Fair enough." Rowan takes a seat on the cavern floor, after brushing away some of the dust left behind. He pulls a red device out of his lab coat, and starts fiddling with it.
Cynthia does try to ignore him. She isn't very successful. "What's that?"
"Oh, this old thing?" Rowan smiles. "It's called a pokedex. I've adapted it from an old colleague of mine from Kanto, and while I've been able to fill much of it out thanks to enterprising young trainers like—well, like you would be if you were a trainer, which you aren't—there are still quite a few pokemon in the Sinnoh region that are entirely undocumented."
"How does a little red box help?"
"Like this." Rowan holds it up to Aster, who sniffs at it curiously. A little blue light comes on, and an automated voice says, "GIBLE. THE LAND SHARK POKEMON. IT NESTS IN SMALL, HORIZONTAL HOLES IN CAVE WALLS. IT POUNCES TO CATCH PREY THAT COMES TOO CLOSE."
"Oh! That's..." Cynthia dials back her excitement somewhat. "...interesting?"
"I think it is. It's nowhere near complete, though, not with only myself and my lab assistants to fill it out. What I really need is someone willing to explore the places no others will go. Someone strong, and brave, and with a passion for knowledge that I don't often find in the average ten-year-old. But perhaps, in someone a bit older..."
"Maybe. I hope you find someone soon."
Rowan looks at her and frowns a little. "Ah... yes. I hope so too. I assume, since you're... not a trainer?"
Cynthia shakes her head. "Not really. I have a card for legal reasons and we had to go to Veilstone to get that."
"Right, then... where on earth—or I suppose, in Sinnoh—did you get little Aster here?"
"I didn't. Obviously." The dragon perks up a little at her name. "My grandmother did, somewhere in the mountains on some kind of expedition. She means a lot to me, but she's no battler."
"Are you... sure about that?"
"Yes?" Cynthia blinks. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Have you ever tried battling?"
"No..."
"Then why not give it a go?" With his other hand, Rowan pulls out a pokeball from another pocket of his lab coat, and offers Cynthia the pokedex. "I'll even let you borrow this, since this is your first time."
"Well, I-I don't know..."
"Gi!" Aster clambers out of her lap, eyes shining with—some emotion Cynthia's never seen in them before. "Gible, gible gi!"
Cynthia makes an educated guess. Reaching out to pat her pokemon on the head, she asks, "You want to give it a go?"
Aster nods firmly. Cynthia takes a deep breath, and stands up, dusting her hoodie off.
"I'll do it," she says, taking the pokedex. "For Aster's sake."
Rowan nods. He clicks a button on his pokeball, and a bird pokemon Cynthia's seen around but never actually known a name for emerges.
"STARLY, THE STARLING POKEMON," the pokedex offers helpfully. "BECAUSE THEY ARE WEAK INDIVIDUALLY, THEY FORM GROUPS. ITS CRIES ARE VERY STRIDENT."
Cynthia decides not to think too hard about how much she didn't understand in that sentence and focus on the weak individually part. She takes a deep breath. "Right. Um. How do we... do this?"
"As a courtesy, you may have the first move," Rowan says. "However, other trainers will often not be so courteous—leaving the first move to one's opponent often puts one at a disadvantage."
"It doesn't matter," Cynthia says with a shrug. "I'm never going to do this again. Um... Aster, use... oh Palkia, what were your moves..."
"At that level? You've got Tackle and Sand-Attack to work with. Tackle is—"
"Tackle," Cynthia says in as even a voice as she can. "I know what that does."
Aster lets out a low growl and charges for the Starly, knocking the pokemon backwards into the air to the point where it has to use its wings to flutter back down. It doesn't look particularly hurt. Actually, it almost looks excited.
"Strike back now," Rowan commands. "Tackle!"
Impossibly, the Starly's Tackle seems to hurt Aster a lot more than it did the other way around. Aster stumbles, nearly falling into the dust before righting herself. But she doesn't look bothered. She looks... excited?
It's a contagious feeling, and that's what scares Cynthia most of all. It's that feeling that has her smiling even as she makes a critical mistake that loses her the battle, that feeling that has her spinning Aster in the air and actually laughing by the time her grandmother comes over to see what happened to Professor Rowan.
It's that feeling that has her accept the professor's conditional offer of the pokedex.
Cynthia is fifteen years old, and she's never been more afraid in her life.
Her only pokemon is somewhere between two and three years old, and does not share this sentiment. Cynthia watches Aster keep going even after her own feet stop, unbidden, at the edge of town. After a few moments, the Gible realizes there's something missing, and turns, and cocks her head to the side in a clear question.
"Sorry," Cynthia whispers. "I'm just... nervous. I've never been this far from home before."
Aster gives her a skeptical look suspiciously similar to the one her grandmother so often wears. "Gible."
"Well—yes, I know, I've been further before, but... not alone."
The baby dragon considers this, then toddles back over to where Cynthia is. Aster extends her arms up towards Cynthia, who picks her up and just... holds her, for a long moment.
"But I'm not alone," Cynthia decides. She hugs Aster. "I have you, after all."
Aster purrs lightly back, until Cynthia's finally ready to go. And once she's as ready as she'll ever be, setting Aster carefully on her shoulder, she blinks hard and takes her very first step into an adventure.
The next several are far easier than the first.
The route west of Celestic Town goes through Mt. Coronet to Eterna City on the other side. Going east from Celestic, then south to Hearthome or further east to Veilstone, would arguably be a better course of action for a rookie trainer.
But—that statue she's heard of, in Eterna. She's seen pictures, of course, but she knows the pictures of the cave painting below her home don't do it justice. And so her first order of business is to cross a mountain.
That alone means very little, simply that it's dark inside the mountain and that the flashlight she'd packed doesn't illuminate very much. The darkness isn't so bad, once she gets used to it, and she's confident that if she just keeps putting one foot in front of the other, she'll find the way out sooner or later.
This isn't such a bad plan, in theory. In practice, it's all too easy to get turned around when you and your pokemon are being harrassed by Zubat and Geodude at every other step you take. And, consequently, Cynthia takes a turn—or perhaps several—that she shouldn't have.
Consequently, one moment there's solid stone beneath her. The next, there's nothing but a very large splash, and a roar from something that doesn't want her here.
So that went terribly. She's still soaked—not a good thing to be at this time of year, at least it's starting to get warmer. She's almost certain that she ripped her hoodie when she got away.
Honestly, she should probably turn right around and go back home to Celestic. She could mail the pokedex back to the professor- he said he was from Sandgem Town, right? - and just go back to the way things were.
But... she can't just go back to the way things were. The fact that the nurse at the Eterna pokecenter is bringing over two pokeballs instead of just Aster's is proof enough of that.
"So..." The nurse pauses. "What are you doing?"
Cynthia glances up from the hoodie in her lap. "The hood got ripped. I can fix it. Or- at least mend it. I've been using pink and white, but I might need another color... maybe blue?"
"I... see." The nurse clearly does not see, but she nevertheless hands Cynthia two pokeballs. "I'm assuming that is somewhat related to how bad of shape your Feebas was in?"
"Somewhat, although she wasn't—I didn't—I caught her after that happened—" Cynthia pauses. Wait, that's worse-sounding, actually, so she just gives up and says, "Long story, there was a Gyarados that did not like me or the Feebas. Is she... okay?"
The nurse nods. "Fit as a fiddle. So's your Gible." She doesn't comment on the accidental rhyme, but Cynthia can tell she's thinking about it. "Just... do be more careful in the future?"
"That's the plan," Cynthia assures her. She smiles faintly until the nurse turns her back and walks off, and then that smile fades fast. "Oh gods, I am not cut out for this." Still, she lets out first Aster, who snuggles against her side on the couch in the corner, and then...
"Fee?"
"Hey," Cynthia says. "I'm glad you're doing better. Although, uh... are you... okay? Out of water?"
The Feebas flops noncommittally a short distance away. She doesn't seem to be in any distress, quite unlike Cynthia at the moment, so...
"...send me a signal if you're not okay," Cynthia decides, and leaves it at that. "Anyway. First of all, thank you, I'm pretty sure I would have drowned without you distracting that... that was a Gyarados, it had to be. Alright then. U-um. I hope the pokemart sells better flashlights. And possibly better maps."
"Feeeeeebas."
Cynthia sucks in a breath. "Right. So, um. Sorry about throwing you in a pokeball like that, I... know we're supposed to battle first, but I couldn't just let you..."
Die, her thoughts whisper even as she doesn't dare to voice them. A part of her wonders if a Gyarados was responsible for her mother never returning home. If her mother had been dragged down, down into the depths of an underground pool, never to be seen again.
She's torn away from her thoughts by a fin placed on her wrist, and the Feebas maneuvering—with some difficulty, though less than she'd expect—up against her other side.
Cynthia looks down at the water-type, brow furrowing. She says, quietly, "I'd... rather not go anywhere near that pool again anytime soon, but if you have any preferences as to where you'd like me to release you—"
"Feebas," the pokemon says, right before biting her. Cynthia withdraws her hand with a yelp.
"What was that for??"
And now she's getting disappointed looks from both of her pokemon. Apparently, this is transparently obvious to Aster. Unfortunately, Cynthia is not so skilled at figuring out what people want when they do anything but out and say it, and it doesn't seem like pokemon are going to be much better.
Great. Just great. Why did she agree to actually become a pokemon trainer for her grandmother's friend again?
...wait.
"If I'm completely misinterpreting this, please don't bite me again, that hurt," Cynthia says slowly, rubbing her hand. "But... do you want to stay with me?"
The Feebas actually rolls her eyes before shifting up in down in a motion that might, charitably, be called a nod.
"Oh. I—okay??" Cynthia sucks in a breath. "Um. I'll do my best... you need a name. I'm not calling you Feebas. But I don't know... maybe..." She glances out the window, where Mt. Coronet is visible to the east. "Bite me if this is terrible, but... Coronet? As a reminder to both of us to not underestimate that mountain, I... should have known better to begin with. And as a warning to our opponents not to underestimate you."
The Feebas does not bite her. So, Coronet it is. Cynthia finds herself smiling again, before something occurs to her and she turns on Aster. "Hold on. You are rubbing on me. I'm just battling for your sake—and Coronet's, if she wants it. I don't care about battles myself."
Aster shares a knowing look with Coronet, and both pokemon laugh like they know something she doesn't.
PKMN Trainer Cynthia
Aster - Coronet