The sunlight spilled over the horizon as Cynthia stayed low in the grass, creeping forward like a Seviper stalking its prey. Pulling apart the tall blades, she peered down the small hill, her grey eyes narrowing at the sight of the cave entrance.

  She sneered softly.

  Unlike the cave she had sheltered in with Myst, or even the one with the ancient carvings, this one was unmistakably artificial. The entrance was too smooth, the stone subtly reshaped, and the plants around it grew just a little too deliberately, carefully arranged to obscure its presence.

  Other Pokémon might have overlooked it, but to Cynthia’s trained eyes, it was obvious.

  This wasn’t just a cave.

  It was a carefully constructed hideout, shaped through the combined efforts of a Rock-, or maybe Ground-type, alongside a Grass-type Pokémon.

  And it belonged to the thief.

  Roselia.

  Cynthia gritted her teeth, fury bubbling up as she recalled the smug way it had absconded with her backpack, her Pokédex, as if it had every right to take it. It had flaunted the theft, completely unconcerned that it carried something priceless.

  If that had been all, maybe the long chase would have worn down her fury

  She could have forgiven it. After all, it didn’t know what it had taken, probably just after a thrill, or maybe the food from her backpack.

  So while it had felt personal…

  It hadn’t been.

  Not yet.

  Her fingers curled as she remembered their second encounter a couple of hours earlier.

  .……

  Roselia stood at the base of a rocky cliff, its head tilted as if contemplating whether it could actually scale it. The red scarf, more thread than cloth, hung around its neck, tattered, but worn with pride.

  Cynthia flexed her fingers at the sight of it, imagining, just for a moment, wrapping it around her hand and—

  She took a slow breath, forcing herself back into focus.

  No, she needed to approach this with a cool head.

  A glance to the side showed Myst leaning against a tree, forehead resting against the bark, looking half-dead from exhaustion.

  Useless.

  Moving her gaze didn’t help, Rei had already collapsed face-first into the dirt.

  Also useless.

  Her eyes flickered left.

  Riolu? Still standing… but only because he was staring blankly at a plant, looking almost envious. He was technically conscious, but Cynthia wasn’t about to risk him. If he got knocked out, the chase would be over until he recovered.

  That left only one reasonable option.

  Peeking out from behind the tree, she spotted Roselia weaving a rope of leaves, still distracted. Silently, she pulled Queenie’s Pokéball from her belt in one hand and her last unused Pokéball in the other.

  If she could throw it and catch Roselia, even if it broke out, that brief pause would be enough to corner it.

  A victorious image flashed in her mind, Roselia pinned beneath her glare, desperately handing back her Pokédex, and before she could stop herself, a low chuckle slipped from her lips.

  A mistake.

  Roselia spun in an instant, scarf whipping through the air as its half-lidded eyes snapped open in alarm.

  Cynthia reacted just as fast, hurling Queenie’s Pokéball forward.

  “Dragon Rage!”

  Roselia didn’t hesitate. It thrust its arms forward, firing off a storm of Poison Stings.

  But just because Roselia was fast, didn’t mean it was fast enough.

  Queenie materialized in a flash of light, took a deep breath and—

  A serpent of blue dragonfire surged forward.

  The Poison Stings got swallowed whole, washed away like reeds in a river as the Dragon Rage raced towards its target.

  It struck the green figure dead-on.

  For a second, Cynthia could almost imagine it flying backward, barely holding on as it crashed against the rocky cliff.

  That did not happen.

  Instead, the figure burst apart into a swirl of glowing green leaves and flower petals, burning with blue dragonfire.

  Cynthia’s eyes widened at the sight, momentarily caught up in the beauty of the flame-licked petals twisting through the air.

  Then her brain restarted.

  A trick, had to be.

  Her gaze swept the area, but the smoke curling from the burning petals combined with the darkness of the night, made it impossible to see anything.

  She almost commanded Queenie to charge in but bit her tongue. She needed to stay cautious, Queenie might be safe, but she could still be harmed.

  A beat passed of nothing happening.

  Then—

  The swirling petals and leaves that had been falling silently suddenly stopped and then shifted.

  All at once, they turned toward her.

  Cynthia’s eyes snapped to a section of the smoke.

  It was a little-known fact, but unless trained otherwise, Pokémon using telekinetic based attacks almost always caused objects to shift outward from themselves. Which meant that while every floating leaf turned to face them, a distinct cluster gathered in the leftmost part of the smoke.

  Got you.

  “Queenie, Bulldoze the left side!”

  Queenie smashed her leg into the ground before the Roselia could react.

  In an instant, cracks split through the earth. Ground-type energy surged forward, tearing through the lingering smoke and revealing the entire area.

  Roselia stood there, eyes widening in shock as it tried to finish its attack.

  The earth beneath it erupted like a bomb, sending shockwaves through its limbs.

  It let out a sharp grunt, staggering as the energy drained from its body. The floating leaves around it collapsed, losing their gravity-defying lift as Roselia could no longer support them with its Magical Leaf.

  Cynthia didn’t let up.

  “Slash!”

  Queenie lunged, talons glowing white as they extended.

  Cynthia would give it credit.

  Roselia reacted instantly even after taking damage.

  It threw itself to the side, firing off Poison Stings mid-motion.

  It didn’t matter.

  Queenie didn’t care.

  Her thick scales shrugged off the attack.

  And Roselia?

  Still floating in mid-air, it realized too late that Bulldoze had a secondary effect. Anything hit would be rooted to the earth via Ground-type energy, slowing down its movements and turning even the most graceful leap into a tumbling fall.

  “Roseli—” was all it managed.

  Queenie’s talons slashed across its body mid-air, sending it flying straight up.

  Cynthia grinned as her bag tumbled with it, the red scarf fluttering in the wind. Roselia soared helplessly into the air, before its arc curved down.

  Nowhere to ru—

  She blinked.

  Roselia suddenly stopped.

  What.

  Wings of grass unfurled from its back, held together through a careful application of Magical Leaf.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Cynthia stared.

  The attack that was supposed to send it flying helplessly had instead sent it high enough that it could glide gracefully to the top of the cliff.

  She had helped it escape.

  Cynthia’s mouth fell open as Roselia landed with a stagger, its leafy wings falling apart with a cascade of petals.

  It took a deep breath before turning around.

  Then, with all the dramatic flair of a stage performer, Roselia staggered up to the cliff’s edge, still hurt, still slowed.

  But grinning.

  It saluted.

  Gave her a bow.

  Waved its arms, letting the remnants of its wings flutter around it like roses tossed to a victorious performer.

  Finally, with that done, it turned, threw its red scarf behind itself, and walked away.

  Cynthia felt her hand tremble slightly as exhaustion hit her like a brick. Almost an hour. And she let it escape?

  Again?

  Her vision blurred, nausea creeping up—

  Myst’s hand fell onto her shoulder, and she relaxed.

  Then she heard his voice, “And you can remember this as the day you almost caugh—"

  Her head snapped toward him, fury surging back to the surface.

  He stopped, smiled, looking way too satisfied, then opened his mouth again, like he was about to continue.

  She glared.

  He shut his mouth.

  ……

  Roselia making fun of her like that…

  Cynthia’s fingers curled into a fist.

  Fine.

  If Roselia wanted to play games, she’d play.

  But this time she wasn’t going to take it lightly.

  Her gaze flicked to Myst. Somehow, despite still having gotten no sleep, he looked better than last time they’d cornered the thief. He had tried to explain he’d crash eventually, that this was all a temporary up-swing, but Cynthia didn’t care.

  If he was still standing, he was still useful…

  Maybe.

  Either way it shouldn’t matter, Queenie should be enough. But Cynthia had to admit, Roselia was smart. Too smart. If it had more tricks up its sleeve, it could slip away again.

  If that happened, they’d have to rest, reset, wait.

  And she wasn’t sure she could handle that right now.

  She glanced down at her side, Riolu was already back in his ball, knocked out from tracking the cave. Rei had at least managed to get some sleep on Myst’s back, but Riolu had completely burned through his already limited energy.

  Queenie, Rei and Myst.

  That was enough.

  Had to be enough.

  This time, she was getting her Pokédex back.

  “You remember the plan?” Cynthia whispered.

  Myst blinked at her, slow and bleary. “Yeah, we go in and… beat up the Roselia?”

  Cynthia glared at him. “Queenie and I will fight it head-on. You and Rei make sure it doesn’t escape.”

  “I mean, that is what I said, no?” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Cynthia didn’t blink.

  “…Okay, okay, I get it,” Myst muttered.

  Good enough.

  She moved, sliding down the small hill with careful, deliberate steps. Myst followed silently behind her. Cynthia crept toward the entrance, her eyes flicking over the vines that obscured it. Nothing seemed out of place.

  She stepped forward, only for Myst to grab her arm.

  She froze, breath catching in her throat, but didn’t make a sound. Turning to him, she followed his gaze to the ground.

  A thin root stretched across the entrance, pulled taut, too deliberate to be natural.

  A tripwire.

  Cynthia gave a silent nod of thanks and carefully stepped over it.

  It was just another sign of how intelligent their target was. Cynthia had never met a wild Pokémon that used tools like this. Even the makeshift wings of leaves had been beyond normal instinct.

  It made her hesitate.

  Could it have a trainer?

  She hadn’t even thought about it until now, but… the signs were there. The scarf. The calculated tricks.

  Cynthia clenched her fist.

  If Roselia did have a trainer, then this could get serious. It could be a criminal hiding in the woods and avoiding the police.

  “This might get messy,” she muttered, stopping right outside the entrance to peer into the tunnel.

  Darkness stretched ahead, but faintly glowing moss lined the walls, casting just enough light to make out the path. The tunnel curved sharply, cutting off her view, but she had a feeling that if she took even one step further, it would widen into a proper cave.

  Behind her, Myst shifted. “You think it has a trainer?” he asked casually.

  Cynthia paused at his wording. The way he said it. The way he phrased it.

  “You thought of that before?” she hissed, keeping her voice low.

  Myst shrugged. “Yeah. First time I saw its scarf, that was my first thought.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “Figured you’d already considered it.” He paused, then shot her a small, knowing smile. “And, well… doesn’t really change anything, does it? We’re getting your Pokédex back either way.”

  Cynthia stared into his blue eyes.

  Her heart skipped a beat.

  She tore her gaze away, muttering, “You’re right.”

  They turned the corner. Unlike what she’d expected, the cave didn’t widen immediately, but she could make out the hint of an opening just five meters ahead.

  She took another step forward, her foot brushed against something soft.

  Cynthia glanced down, then froze.

  Her backup shirt lay crumpled at her feet, unraveled from its usual ball-form. Before she could even begin to process what that meant, the light flickered and the moss glowed brighter for a moment. It cast a soft light that revealed the entirety of the tunnel and with it the contents of her backpack, spilled across the floor like hastily discarded trinkets.

  But it wasn’t just the backpack. The food, the berries, everything was thrown to different corners, like someone had been digging through it in a hurry and tossed it aside once they didn’t find what they wanted.

  The realization set in like a slow, creeping tide.

  She’d assumed the Roselia had stolen the food, but that didn’t make sense. If it had wanted the backpack for the food, it wouldn’t be scattered around like this.

  So that left…

  A trophy?

  Proof that it could?

  Or…

  “How many people know you have a Pokédex… actually, how valuable is it?” Myst asked slowly, scanning the surroundings.

  Cynthia pursed her lips, her fingers brushing Queenie’s Pokéball.

  “Its priceless.” She muttered.

  She glanced at Myst, noticing the subtle change in his posture. His thin body tensed, his jaw set. His eyes locked on the widening part of the cave. For a brief moment, she wondered if he’d suggest waiting, figuring out some better plan instead of simply rushing in.

  “Let’s go then.”

  Cynthia eyes softened.

  “We cou—” She started.

  Before she could finish, a flurry of leaves erupted from the darkness.

  Rei reacted instantly.

  With the raw strength only a Pokémon could possess, she yanked both of them to the ground fast enough that it was lucky neither of them got whiplash. The leaves sliced through the air just above their heads, missing by inches.

  Cynthia barely had time to register what had happened before muscle memory kicked in. Her fingers flashed to Queenie’s Pokéball.

  A burst of red light.

  A roar.

  Queenie materialized in an instant, and before Cynthia could even give a command, the cave flashed bright blue.

  Dragon Rage.

  The blast surged forward, its light illuminating the cave for a split second, just enough to reveal their attacker.

  Roselia stood in the opening to the larger chamber, bathed in shadows.

  But something was wrong.

  It wasn’t dodging.

  Its eyes glowed with an eerie green light, and the moss along the walls brightened, turning iridescent. A pulse of Grass-type energy surged through the cave, so strong Cynthia could almost smell it, fresh, sharp, growing.

  A split second before Dragon Rage could hit, Roselia thrust its hands forward.

  A blinding green laser of leaves and condensed Grass-type energy tore through the attack, cutting through the raging blue flames as if they were nothing.

  Then it slammed into Queenie.

  The impact sent her skidding backward, claws scraping against stone as she roared in defiance. Cynthia’s breath caught in her throat as her starter staggered.

  One step.

  Then another.

  “Queenie!”

  Gabite dropped to a knee, her tail digging into the ground for balance. Cynthia felt ice creep into her veins.

  Darkness fell over the cave, the moss seeming to wither slightly, like the attack had drained it.

  Cynthia’s pulse pounded in her ears.

  How?

  Roselia was clever, but its attacks had never been devastating. To bring Queenie to her knees in one attack took power, the kind an elite trainer’s ace might wield.

  Magical Leaf? Not strong enough. Giga Drain? No chance.

  What grass move even had enough—?

  Leaves flew straight for Queenie, sharp and cutting, but Cynthia needed a moment.

  Just one second to think.

  “Protect!”

  Queenie let out a low growl, but obeyed without hesitation. Her Aura flared to life, shimmering around her like a protective shield. The leaves collided with the barrier, shattering into harmless fragments. Then she remained still, the lingering effect of Protect locking her in place, leaving her unable to move.

  But just because Queenie needed time didn’t mean Rei did.

  “Fire Punch!”

  Cynthia barely had time to react before the air shifted beside her.

  Rei vanished.

  A streak of red light shot forward, moving faster than Cynthia’s eyes could track. Roselia’s eyes flicked toward the oncoming threat, but it was too late. Rei was already upon it.

  Her ear ignited with Fire-type energy.

  Fire Punch formed in an instant.

  Roselia raised one of its flowery hands.

  Cynthia’s stomach dropped.

  But instead of another devastating Grass attack, a dozen sharp, purple needles fired in a scattershot.

  Poison Sting.

  Rei twisted midair.

  The attack barely grazed past her.

  And then her flaming fist smashed into Roselia’s face.

  A burst of embers scattered on impact, the flames licking against its petals. Roselia let out a sharp cry, staggering back.

  Even so it still tried to counterattack, raising another flowery hand.

  Rei didn’t let it.

  Another Fire Punch struck dead center, slamming into Roselia’s stomach. The Grass-type launched backward, hurtling into the chamber beyond, through the vines that obscured it.

  Rei flashed white, vanishing once more.

  A sudden burst of red exploded from the chamber, followed by a faint explosion as Rei hit something.

  Queenie staggered to her feet, shoulders heaving.

  Her growl rumbled low and dangerous, tail lashing behind her.

  Frustration radiated off her in waves, anger, embarrassment, and before Cynthia could even call her back, Queenie let out a roar and rushed after Roselia and Rei.

  Cynthia scrambled up, brushing dirt from her clothes.

  Myst pushed himself off the ground a beat later.

  Explosions rang out in the distance, then a roar, then… nothing.

  For a few seconds, Cynthia just stared at the hole leading into the larger chamber.

  Then Rei appeared in the opening, one ear alight with Fire-type energy, casting flickering shadows along the walls.

  A makeshift torch.

  She turned her head—

  And took a step back, startled by Myst’s presence beside her.

  Too close.

  Close enough that she could see the exhaustion dulling his sharp gaze. Close enough to see the small scar on his lip, just near the edge of his mouth.

  “I think we might have won,” she said, taking a step back and trying to refocus.

  Myst exhaled, raking a hand through his messy hair. “Well, since Roselia decided to just brawl it out, I don’t think there was any other option.” He paused, then tilted his head. “You feeling like checking out if we can find your Pokédex?”

  Cynthia nodded, almost absentmindedly.

  She had assumed they’d win, never doubted it, really, but after being outsmarted by Roselia before, she’d expected something more tactical. A drawn-out fight, a battle of wits.

  Not this.

  Not Roselia firing off one massive attack, then getting completely overwhelmed the moment Rei got in close.

  It felt off.

  While she hadn’t seen Roselia fight much, it seemed like a smart fighter, not somebody who would gamble on taking out Queenie in one huge move, especially since Rei had been there.

  She moved forward, Myst letting out a yawn as he followed.

  That decision made her doubt her earlier idea, that Roselia had a trainer. If it did, why hadn’t they run the moment they saw her and Myst? Why had Roselia stayed and fought instead of slipping away like before?

  Maybe the cave only had one exit.

  But if a trainer had actually used Roselia and a Rock-type to carve it out, they would have had access to Dig. Roselia and its hypothetical trainer could’ve just vanished underground the moment they were discovered.

  But they hadn’t.

  Light flared as Cynthia stepped through the vines that had covered the small hole, her breath catching as she took in the chamber beyond.

  It was massive.

  The dim glow of the tunnel moss paled in comparison to what lay inside, every surface bathed in an eerie green luminescence, particles drifting lazily from the ceiling like falling embers.

  The air smelled rich, alive.

  A pool of water rested off to the side, its surface impossibly still.

  And against the far wall—

  A mountain of things, haphazardly piled in the corner.

  It looked exactly like she’d expected, a thief’s hideout.

  But Cynthia’s gaze didn’t go to the stolen goods.

  Not to Queenie, standing guard over Roselia’s fainted body.

  Not to the Flygon in the corner, its long red scarf stark against its green scales.

  Not to the deep gash marring its side, the wound long since dried.

  No, her eyes didn't even focus on the fact the Flygon was dead.

  No.

  Her eyes locked onto what the Flygon was clutching.

  A Ralts.

  The tiny Pokémon lay curled in its arms, shuddering softly with every breath. A dark blotch of something covered one of its small hands, ink-black against pale white skin.

  A blue cap rested atop its head, slightly askew.

  And just like that—

  Everything snapped into place.

  Its red scarf. The odd intelligence of Roselia’s traps. The sheer desperation of its final attack and why it hadn’t dodged or escaped.

  Myst exhaled beside her.

  “That Ralts is shiny, isn’t it?” he asked, voice quiet.

  Cynthia barely nodded.

  Because suddenly—

  This wasn’t about her Pokédex anymore.