"Misdreavus, the Ghost Pokémon, and its evolved form, Mismagius, wield mysterious powers, chants that torment foes with pain or soothe them with fleeting joy."
What was this place? Could this patch of Purple Leaf Forest be a hidden haunt for Misdreavus and Mismagius?
This was Luther's first real tangle with wild Pokémon acting as a unit. The Older looking Mismagius glaring at him radiated hostility, likely drawn by the scuffle with their younger kin, Misdreavus.
He'd never heard of Misdreavus and Mismagius banding together like this. Mismagius, infamous for its trickery and dream-weaving mischief, usually prowled alone. Yet here they were, three Mismagius hovering before him, plus the half-dozen or so Misdreavus, including the one he'd just used as a sparring partner.
One Mismagius floated over to check on the battered Misdreavus, then murmured something to its companions, its tone tinged with resignation.
That's when Luther noticed something odd. This Mismagius, along with a few others, wore strange adornments, faded ribbons, chipped pendants, and a cracked hair clip perched atop the lead Mismagius's head.
Unsure of their intentions, Luther stayed on edge. Wild Pokémon rarely attack humans unprovoked, but those that roamed in packs often guarded their turf fiercely. As a lone Trainer who'd just roughed up one of their own, he doubted they'd roll out the welcome mat.
Sure enough, the Mismagius in the center began to shimmer with a faint violet glow. The three red gems on its chest flared brilliantly, a clear sign it was charging up for a strike.
Luther hadn't meant to stir up trouble with the Misdreavus. It had taunted and lunged first, retaliation was just instinct. He figured the Mismagius had sensed the ruckus from the start; how else could they have swooped in so fast after the little one got cornered?
Talking his way out seemed off the table. The Mismagius eyed his Pokémon with a strange, envious glint. Jumpluff, picking up on their aggression, puffed up eagerly, ready to dive in. Ralts, though, shrank behind Luther, her natural dread of Ghost-types kicking in. Marill, oblivious as ever, bounced around like she was born for the chaos, ignoring the tension entirely.
Luther couldn't quite decipher the swirl of emotions in the Mismagius's gaze, jealousy, bitterness, and a flicker of something wounded. Seeing such a tangled mess of feelings in a group of Pokémon felt downright unnatural.
A low growl rumbled behind him, and a sleek shadow sprang onto a towering tree at his back, peering down at both Luther and the Mismagius.
This canine figure, cloaked in pitch-black fur that blended with the night, sported backward-curving horns. Despite its fierce look, the playful wag of its triangular tail softened Luther's nerves.
A Houndoom, of all things, right here.
Luther whipped out his Pokédex for a quick scan.
"Houndoom, the evolved form of Houndour. Legends say its chilling howl sends shivers down the spine. Long ago, people mistook its eerie cry for the Grim Reaper's summons from the underworld."
The entry didn't quite match up. Luther found Houndoom's growl more commanding than chilling, no underworld vibes here. Its presence was undeniable, though.
To his shock, the Mismagius halted its attack at the sound of Houndoom's voice. It called the little Misdreavus back to its side, shot Luther a frosty glare, and drifted off into the shadows.
Luther couldn't wrap his head around why this wild-looking Houndoom had stepped in to bail him out, or why the Mismagius backed off so fast.
From the branches, its form was a blur, but when Houndoom leapt down and landed before him, Luther saw it clearly. This Houndoom was a cut above the norm, its frame sturdy, its limbs rippling with well-defined muscle.
'A wild Houndoom this buff?' Luther's brow furrowed in confusion.
One thing was certain: this Houndoom meant him no harm. It sniffed at Jumpluff, who didn't flinch, and rumbled something low in its throat.
Luther scanned the area. This Houndoom, built like it had trained with Bulk Up, didn't strike him as truly wild. He wondered if a Trainer was lurking nearby, pulling strings from the shadows.
But there was no such luck. After nearly a minute of Houndoom and Jumpluff exchanging growls and chirps, no one emerged. Jumpluff's expression dimmed as they spoke, and Luther cursed his lack of N's gift, or any Viridian Forest knack, for understanding Pokémon speech.
The exchange dragged on. Jumpluff kept stealing glances at Luther, while Houndoom fixed him with a cool, appraising stare. Ralts clung to his leg, unwilling to budge, but Marill was fearless, rolling gleefully across Houndoom's back and showing no signs of climbing down.
Abruptly, the conversation stalled. Houndoom and Jumpluff hit a wall, and Luther's curiosity burned. Jumpluff hesitated, her gaze dodging his, while Ralts suddenly let go of his pant leg and shuffled forward, as if she had something to add. Jumpluff nudged Houndoom's head gently with hers, then hopped over to Ralts's side.
Luther couldn't catch the words, but the emotions were plain. Ralts beamed with delight, and Jumpluff's eyes gleamed with resolve.
Houndoom, though, looked wistful. With a careful flick of its tail, it lifted Marill, still tumbling on its back, and set her down before Jumpluff. Jumpluff gave the rolling Marill a gentle push toward Luther.
Houndoom let out a long, mournful howl, its voice heavy with something unspoken. Before Luther could process it, the Pokémon sprang off the ground, its powerful legs launching it into the treetops. It vanished in the same direction the Mismagius had fled.
Staring at his three Pokémon, each wearing a different expression, Luther felt a jolt, like a Thunderbolt sparking through his mind, piecing together scattered thoughts.
The peculiar trinkets adorning Mismagius and Misdreavus, the wild swings of emotion in Mismagius's gaze, the strikingly powerful build of that Houndoom, and the shifting look on Jumpluff's face as she conversed with it.
Luther couldn't tell if it was fatigue or something heavier weighing him down. He slumped against a sturdy tree and slid to the ground, letting his back rest against its rough bark.
Marill rolled around nearby, blissfully carefree as always, while Ralts sprang into Luther's lap, her small frame trembling with worry. Jumpluff caught the shift in Luther's mood and seemed to realize he'd pieced things together. Her expression turned sheepish, but after a moment's hesitation, she hopped onto his chest, locking eyes with him and staying still.
Lost in thought for what felt like ages, Luther finally grasped the truth: he'd just stumbled into the biggest challenge of his young Trainer career, not a battle of strength, but a test of heart.
The thought of Jumpluff nearly being swayed shook him. Losing her trust so soon after earning it would've crushed the fragile confidence he'd started to build.
After a long pause, Luther ran his hand gently over Jumpluff's soft, fluffy body and murmured a quiet "thank you."
He understood her hesitation all too well. For Jumpluff to place her faith in him, someone she'd known for barely a day, took guts. Yet she'd chosen to stick with him, a huge gesture for a Pokémon who'd once led the pack back at the Research Lab.
This time, stubborn Jumpluff didn't shy away from his touch. She leaned into it, as if savoring a memory, maybe of battling alongside that girl under Professor Rowan's watch.
One hand caressed Jumpluff while the other playfully tickled Ralts. Luther's gaze drifted toward where the Mismagius had vanished, a pang of sorrow tugging at him.
Houndoom hadn't meant any harm; it just wanted to convince Jumpluff to join its side.
The Mismagius burned with envy, yet something held them back from attacking outright.
They'd once belonged to someone, Pokémon meant to curl up with their Trainers, basking in the warmth of a bond. Now, they clung to each other in this sprawling forest, seeking solace in their shared exile.
Jealousy and resentment simmered within them, but so did a tangle of softer, more fragile feelings toward humans. They'd trusted people once, and that trust had left scars.
The Pokémon world was vast, and not every Trainer was a saint.
If you judged Pokémon only by their power, catching and releasing them on a whim might seem trivial.
But these Pokémon had been raised with care, only to be discarded for reasons unknown.
They still wore the keepsakes their Trainers had given them, tattered ribbons and chipped pendants, like they were holding out hope that those who'd abandoned them might one day come back.
In his old life, Luther used to laugh about Ash leaving Pidgeot behind, but he'd always figured a real Ash would never forget his first feathered friend. Someday, he'd trek back to that forest and call Pidgeot home.
These Pokémon, though? They were a different story.
Expecting Trainers cold enough to ditch the partners they'd painstakingly nurtured to suddenly grow a conscience? That was a fantasy too ridiculous to entertain.
Luther pulled Ralts and Jumpluff close, hugging them tight. On his very first day in this world, he'd crashed headlong into its darker underbelly, a stark contrast to the bright, cheerful tales of the anime. This was reality, raw and unfiltered.
Beneath the surface of everyday peace echoed the silent grief of abandoned Pokémon.
Would Pokémon resent humans? They weren't mindless tools; they had hearts and minds of their own.
Trainers had to meet their Pokémon halfway, building trust with trust.
He could almost see where N was coming from now. If N had seen the fallout of neglect and betrayal firsthand, his radical stance, his drive to connect with Pokémon at all costs, made sense.
Luther just couldn't figure out why a theme this deep shone so clearly in the black-and-white games but got muddled in the anime's gloss.
"Wanna go check it out?" He asked softly, tilting his head down to Jumpluff.
As if reading his mind, Jumpluff sprang from his arms, sniffed the earth, and pointed a stubby limb in a direction, urging Luther to follow her lead.
(End of Chapter)