Pokémon Mystery Dungeon: Quenched Torch

Chapter 44: Dawning

As the old saying claimed, a simple life was a happy life. For the first time since he learned the concept of free will, Maverick was beginning to understand that sentiment.

The past two weeks had been interesting for the Zigzagoon, to say the least. At long last, he had finally ditched his deadbeat little hamlet to pursue his dream of being remembered, and it seemed he was making some progress in that regard. Unfortunately, it seemed fate had a wrench to throw into his plans.

He'd seen his father in the flesh among the Phoenix attackers the previous night. There was no room for denial. Mavy wasn't entirely sure what this meant for him. How much of his life had been dictated by this? Did his ma know? Had everything he'd been taught come from this?

Of course, he'd decided that simply going back to his village and shutting down was not the ideal option here, especially given his partners' wishes. These partners, however... well...

"Crazy, both of y'all," he muttered to himself as he rolled a piece of parchment out on the floor.

"Huh?" Rye asked.

"Ah said do you know where a pen is?" Mavy quickly requested. Rye quickly nodded and turned to his partner, who waddled over to pick a pen from a little pile of writing materials. As Beck held up a piece of charcoal, Mavy turned his attention back to the parchment before him.

Truly, the Oshawott was an odd one. Yes, there was the unusual notion that a feral was capable of such higher thought after such a short period, but the true Slaking in the room... well, Mavy was still trying to wrap his head around that.

Among the rapid dashing of first impressions the two had displayed when he'd joined was what seemed to be a very important detail they were withholding. Mavy had initially been rather upset at this, but he'd managed to push it to the wayside. He had always still wondered, though: what was so important that the two kept sidestepping around it, even as he established himself as a loyal teammate?

Needless to say, Mavy was not expecting... that.

Humans? Some prior apocalypse? Disembodied voices? Beck, of all Pokemon, being some ape-thing that was sent here by said voice for some important task?

'...they gotta be screwin' with me. There ain't no way that's real, he's prob'ly just made up some weirdass tale to throw me off.

Then again, it's Rye we're talkin' 'bout. He ain't damn near bright enough to think up a story like that just to fiddle with me. And Beck, like, back at the camp last night... not sure a feral could fake a breakdown like that. Not even sure if they could even have one. So... either both of them got a screw loose, or somehow that's all real.

...iunno, mon.'

With that in mind, Mavy took the piece of charcoal from Beck's paw, holding it in his mouth as he scrounged his mind for words. There was so much he wanted to write to his ma about, how could he fit everything on this one sheet of parchment? His adventures? Rye and Beck? Everything with his pa? Where was he even to begin?

"...

...ah can't write."

Rye and Beck blinked.

"What?" Beck asked.

"Don't know how to write," Mavy sighed, dropping the pen.

"Wh-why?" Rye asked.

"Never needed to, I'm a four-legger from a hick town, what do ya want from me? Dammit, ah didn't think this through," Mavy groaned. Rye stared for a moment before stepping up.