Eleanor West and the Valley of Annwn

Chapter 1 - The Empty House

Foreword from the Author

Dear Reader,

This is a story born from the wild places in my heart, where magic still dwells and hope roams free. Eleanor's tale isn't your typical journey of badges and tournaments—it's an adventure about finding family in unexpected places, discovering inner strength, and choosing what's right even when it's the hardest path to walk.

A few practical notes for readers:

The characters in this story will face life or death situations in visceral ways which may include upsetting imagery, and reader discretion is advised. This story contains themes of violence and childhood trauma, and is best suited for readers 12 and older.

This story also includes fictional characters of Native American heritage. While extensive research and careful consideration went into the portrayal of Indigenous cultures and traditions, I have deliberately chosen not to reference specific tribes or sacred practices. This decision was made out of deep respect for Native American peoples and their cultural heritage, and to avoid any unintentional misrepresentation of their sacred traditions.

Please heed this blanket notice as there will be no further warnings in the coming chapters.

Indulge me a moment while I recognize those who made this story possible.

I owe endless gratitude to my husband, whose unwavering support helped me believe in the magic of storytelling again, and to my children, who kept my sense of wonder alive through the years. Though you've grown beyond childhood tales, this story waited until now to be told, and I was grateful for the wait. To my siblings, this work will always reflect the care and support you provided me on my journey.

My cup runneth over.

To you who now hold this story in your hands: May it awaken that spark of childhood wonder we all carry within us—that same spark that first drew me to Pokémon as a young girl, when I first watched a brave trainer set out to be the very best, like no one ever was.

With warmest regards,

Sauteréllia

Chapter 1: The Empty House

Eleanor's eyes fluttered open, the pounding inside her head reducing the world to a confusing blur. She blinked slowly, waiting for her vision to clear. When it did she found herself lying on her back, gazing up at a flurry of dust motes, dancing in a sunbeam overhead. The harsh light made her squint as the pain in her temples spiked.

Eleanor rolled carefully onto her side, the rough fabric of the blanket dragging against her skin. Normally she'd find the texture irritating, but the surge of dizziness that accompanied the movement made it hard to even notice, registering only as a dim fact swimming amongst the painful sensations in her skull. Waves of vertigo washed over her, each swell magnifying her confusion and unease. Where was she? A flicker of memory faded away, just beyond reach. She gripped the edge of the bed to steady herself, but the world spun like a whirling top, tilting dangerously for a moment.

Shifting her gaze, she took in the room around her. A dresser leaned against one wall, its paint chipped and peeling like sunburnt skin. A musty smell hung thick in the air—years of neglect woven into every fiber of the room. Shadows pooled in corners where light dared not tread, lending an eerie ambience to the space.

She pushed herself fully upright, muscles protesting each movement until her feet found the floor, cold and unwelcoming beneath her bare toes. An errant chill went down her spine.

With each breath clarity seeped back in, easing some of the pressure behind her eyes. Eleanor glanced at the dresser again and noticed several drawers slightly ajar, as if someone had hastily rummaged through them before abandoning their search. A deep sense of abandonment defined the space. Who had left in such a hurry? And why?