EVERYONE: Dragonspiral's Children (redux)

DRX.maliant · Feb 18, 2023

Why hello.

Definitely a different and unique read with this one, and was really cool to see that it's somebody (you) narrating the entire work, which is something that I've'nt encountered before. The Christmas gift being a Druddigon was definitely a derailer and unexpected, but I personally got a good laugh out of it. Lately I've been head-first into slice of life works (it might be a sign, honestly, I don't know.), and this was quite a satisfying read.

I also really liked the interactions between the siblings, as well as each sibling and their friends. Kind of makes me regret cutting contact with those I used to talk to in years past, but time waits for no one, unfortunately. As a younger brother who had a pretty wild imagination back then, I related quite a bit to James, and thus seeing his reactions and ways made me smile.

Had a fun time reading through this one. o/

Spiteful Murkrow · Jul 20, 2023

@DRX.maliant

Why hello.

Definitely a different and unique read with this one, and was really cool to see that it's somebody (you) narrating the entire work, which is something that I've'nt encountered before. The Christmas gift being a Druddigon was definitely a derailer and unexpected, but I personally got a good laugh out of it. Lately I've been head-first into slice of life works (it might be a sign, honestly, I don't know.), and this was quite a satisfying read.

I’m glad to hear that you had fun with things. This was actually the first fanfic that I published for a public audience, even if it was… uh… significantly rougher around the edges in its original form. But I’m glad to hear that you’re enjoying the epistolary format. It was an experiment back in the day, and there were points during the rewriting process where I actually debated junking it entirely, but in the end I’m glad that I stuck to my guns with it, since I’m not sure if another narrative perspective would’ve pulled off the cozy feeling that the story aims for as well as it does.

I also really liked the interactions between the siblings, as well as each sibling and their friends. Kind of makes me regret cutting contact with those I used to talk to in years past, but time waits for no one, unfortunately. As a younger brother who had a pretty wild imagination back then, I related quite a bit to James, and thus seeing his reactions and ways made me smile.

Well, I’m glad to hear that you were able to relate to the characters a bit. Since from its original inception, Dragonspiral’s Children attempted to capture that sort of vibe of someone a bit older recounting their childhood. While there are obviously some things about the Does’ childhood that we witness in this story that are quite different from the ones people have IRL, I made a point of trying to capture that sense of wonder from those younger ages, and it sounds like it panned out.

Had a fun time reading through this one. o/

And it was fun to read your response! Dunno if you’ll come back for more sometime later on, but it was really enjoyable to read your feedback, and I’ll be looking forward to hearing your thoughts of the later parts of the story if and when they eventually come.

And as those of you familiar with my response patterns on my other stories likely gathered, I’ve actually got a batch of fresh content today with a fresh Extra for this story. Now, this Extra has grown in scope quite a bit since I started sketching it out this spring, to the point that much like the one that I made for Context Switch last year, it’s turned into a two-part feature. The first part of it will be going live today, on the 10th anniversary of the submission date of the contest version of this story that started it all. As for the second… it’ll go up when my time and motivation align to finish polishing it up from its 95% complete draft state and get it beta-read sometime in the upcoming calendar month… or on September 18th if all else fails for getting something out the door in August. Since hey, there are worse dates to be had for concluding an Unova-centered narrative.

Unlike the last Extra, today’s and its second part are set chronologically after the events of the main story. As such, if you’re coming into this story blind, it’s strongly recommended to read this two-parter after reading everything else in the story published prior to it.

Though that’s enough preambling on my part, let’s get into the real reason you’ve been following along thus far:

Spiteful Murkrow · Jul 20, 2023

Extra: Baby Blues

Hey there, it’s been a while since we last met to trade stories. Life has admittedly been a bit busier for me lately. Standing guard over younglings of various species has a way of keeping one’s claws full, like the way it did the last time I came around these parts.

What’s the story behind that you ask? Well, I suppose I have some time to tell the tale, even if it’s quite different from the ones I’ve told you about that little house on the outskirts of Icirrus City. And, well…

I admittedly haven’t told many others this story since I wasn’t sure whether or not they’d think I was making parts of it up. But if you’re willing to hear me out, I suppose I can humor your curiosity.

Now, the first time that I came out to these forests with both the Does and my children was just last summer. There were a few new faces that accompanied us then, including the Verne children from the family just next door: Carol and her younger brother—’Noel’. His name always had a way of slipping from the tip of my tongue, though I suppose I’ve been saying it a lot more ever since he started training my elder child.

“Gon! Gon!”

I don’t have too much to say about that visit I didn’t already tell you about; a scare in the woods aside, it went by fairly smoothly and sparked a sense of curiosity among the youngsters about Dragonspiral Tower—among both the humans and Pokémon alike. I helped lead a couple trips over with bits and pieces of the group afterwards during the seasons when James took a seasonal break from training my younger child to go off to his “college”. Time and time again, it got my children, and their trainers more eager to get a closer look at the tower in the woods. To venture inside the divine roost that has loomed over the forests and moors around Icirrus City for untold ages.

Those curiosities faded a bit with winter’s chill, since I wasn’t particularly in the mood to guide anyone out in that weather. And my children and many of their companions weren’t in the mood to travel through it, either. But when spring and its warmth came again, their curiosity came back and it proved hard to keep it at bay for long. Especially when their older and more experienced companions were there to “keep them safe”, as they’d insisted to me and my mate.

And so it was that early this spring, when the air was crisp and the grass still damp from overnight showers—right around the time that human schools have their “spring breaks”—we made the journey northward once again and retraced our steps to the approach to Dragonspiral Tower.

There’s a spot on the path to the tower coming from the south through the surrounding forests. One where the earth begins to slope down in the surrounding forests towards the moat right as the ancient pillars in the water come into view. It’s a vantage point that even the Pokémon that live in the area come to visit, since one can see the whole of the tower and its surrounding grounds from there. It’s the sort of place where one can pass an entire day just watching the Pokémon that dwell inside the tower move through its gaps or in the moat around it.

When my children and our humans made it to that place, they were hesitant to carry on. Not least of all because we had not come with the intention of merely gawking at the place from afar. Throughout history and even today, a journey into Dragonspiral Tower is not one to be made lightly. As I’m sure you already know, it is a place which had long ago been set aside for the gods.

Except our visit came a few years after Team Plasma arrived at the tower, and upended the balance of the resident Pokémon’s lives. James in particular was uneasy, as his mind turned to times in prior years when he was younger and had come face-to-face with Pokémon that dwelled these lands with tooth and claw flashed in warning. Including a particularly frightening encounter just after Team Plasma’s incursion that has always stuck out in our minds…

“... Will they really just let us go inside?”

It was a fair question on his part. From the times of folklore, even the grounds outside Dragonspiral Tower are places where one must tread carefully. Not least of all because they are inhabited by Pokémon who are taught from hatching by their elders of its importance, and of the necessity of protecting it from harm—even at the cost of one’s life.

As if to accentuate the point, the Doe children turned their heads at the sound of rustling brush, where a trio of Mienfoo keened eying them.The Fighting-types emerged from the brush and sized us up skeptically, before crossing the path and moving on with their patrols of the land. Much to everyone’s relief, it was a sign that the wounds left behind from Team Plasma’s sack of the tower had faded with time. Enough so that the local Pokémon had regained their trust of outsiders venturing in to come and pay reverence.

Well, that, and I suppose seeing a Pokémon like myself who was once of their ranks probably helped reassure them. The Mienfoo’s departure drew a sigh of relief from Noel, as he turned to his sister and his neighbors before speaking up.

“The Rangers said that the Pokémon have calmed down for a couple years now and they’d been able to go in and out of the tower fine,” he said. “Well, as fine as people used to go into it before the whole thing with Team Plasma happened, at least…”

John couldn’t help but frown in reply. Had I understood everything Noel said at the time, I’d probably have joined in myself. After all, even if entering Dragonspiral Tower is now a much easier than it used to be for would-be pilgrims, one doesn’t just walk into a space reserved for the divine…

“You do realize that these are the same Pokémon that get mad enough to fight over people nicking pebbles in the woods, right?” John asked. “Are we really sure that this is a good idea?”

... Especially spaces reserved for the divine that have little chunks of the ancient and the sacred dotted about it. One that the Pokémon that dwell about it jealously guard like their own treasures. I assume that you are familiar with the reason why yourself: it is because they understand it is a land which they dwell in as guardians and custodians and not as masters.

That realization weighed down on the Does and Vernes a bit as they began to have second thoughts, as did my mate—Carol’s Haxorus—who turned his tusked head off uneasily towards the tower in the distance. I shook my head in reply to their uneasy murmurs and pawed at Jane to try and give her and the others reassurance as our eyes met.

I reminded them that we had all wanted to come here and were excited to do so. That even if it was intimidating to tread in the realm of gods, that they had a faithful guardian who knew the lay of the land and had strong claws which were ready to defend them.

I’m sure that my words didn’t mean anything to her with the way that Pokémon’s tongues usually tend to go over humans’ heads, but even so, Jane seemed to get the point. A small smile came over her face, and she turned to her siblings and friends with newfound confidence.

“I’m sure it’ll work out. We do have an experienced guide, after all.”

She pat my back just above my wings and, with a grunt, I carried along the path. I made a point of staying at the head of our party: both to point things out for the others, and to prepare for when it came time to make our first steps inside. The trek down to the moat went smoothly enough, and before we knew it, we found ourselves at the final approach where its pillars lay.

That was when I stopped and went over to James and his bag. I stuck my claws into it, and rummaged around until I came across a few marbles which I pulled out in my grasp. A few of my fellow Pokémon in the group like Jane’s Marowak and James’ Servine gave blank looks, while others like John’s Scolipede wondered aloud to themselves how marbles of all things were supposed to help us.

I suppose that it’s one of those things that must make a bit more sense to the mind of a dragon, since even our humans were entirely befuddled.

“Huh? Neela? What are you doing with those marbles?”

Now, I can’t fault James for not being familiar with the premise of paying tribute to be granted passage, but it is a traditional rite for any who would enter into the sacred places in and around Dragonspiral Tower—for both human and Pokémon alike, especially if you’re planning on avoiding unwanted skirmishes. Often times, such tribute isn’t quite as gaudy as a glass marble, but the Pokémon that live there collect such tribute and hold onto a portion for themselves, and pass the rest on into the chambers of the rightful lord of their lands.

The intricacies have a bit of a lengthy explanation in with a shared tongue, so I’ll spare you the lecture and just say that I answered James’ question with a terse ‘Tribute’ in reply and beckoned him and his companions to follow.

After all, language barrier or not, the importance of the marbles I’d brought that day would become clear to them soon enough.

Now most pilgrims who enter Dragonspiral Tower itself these days come from between the pillars that lie just south of the tower in its moat. Among humans, few are in agreement as to what they were originally built for, and even the Pokémon that presently live there don’t remember their purpose in their tales. Some say they are the remnants of a roofed entrance. Others have proposed that they are the supports of a walkway that has since been lost to time. Still others say they never held up anything at all, and were built to reflect a sense of balance and unity, for a hazily-remembered era where the tower was built in honor of two dragons and not one.

Those pillars were among the most heavily-damaged parts of the tower when Team Plasma came and roused the dragon of legend that slumbered within. Even today, after the efforts of humans and their companions to right those wrongs, the scars left behind have not fully faded. Those who would look closely would realize there are cracks where the pillars broke during Team Plasma’s entrance. Seams where the pieces pulled from the moat were stitched back together with mortar and cement. Those who wouldn’t look that closely, will surely notice the hole punched into the tower’s wall not far above the moat’s surface, along with the metal catwalk that runs to it from the shore. Scars in ancient stone and brick that bear witness to the wounds that Team Plasma left behind, with the one in the wall being big enough for a couple larger Pokémon and their humans to walk through it side-by-side.

I sometimes wonder to myself if it would be for the best if the catwalk and the hole too, were erased. So that there wouldn’t be a constant reminder of the anguish and humiliations the Pokémon who stand guard over this place endured for the whole world to see. But I suppose as a Pokémon who isn’t actively standing guard there myself, it is not for me to say, and most others that I come across who dwell in and among the tower tell me that they would rather see it stay.

Some insist that the hole in the wall and the bridge remind them of the importance of not being caught unawares in the future by villainous schemes against the place they call home. Others defend it in more practical terms: that while unsightly, the bridge makes travel across the moat significantly easier for the Pokémon that dwell inside.

And among the local Druddigon in particular, it’s apparently grown popular as a perch for sunning and fishing in warmer months.

Naturally, we even met some Pokémon using it to those ends: a pair of Druddigon we came across standing guard over the entrance that day. One laid sprawled out on her belly with her wings outstretched to bask in the sun’s warmth, while her partner keenly eyed a Basculin fin poking about in the water just below, poised and waiting for just the right moment to strike.

“Drud! Drud!”

Or at least, he was until my younger child hailed him with a playful cry. The fisher lost his balance and pitched forward head over heels into the moat with a wince-worthy splash. One thing led to another, as a plume of water fell onto the sunbather’s crest, startling her awake as she crouched defensively and flashed her fangs with an irritated snarl.

“Gon! Druddigon!”

Now while there are some who might scoff at Druddigon as being a lesser dragon compared to the likes of mighty Haxorus or Hydreigon, but such sentiments have a way of quickly vanishing when facing down one that’s itching for battle. With bulk and mass when fully grown that make most humans look downright petite, sharp claws, and a mouthful of piercing fangs, a Druddigon’s battle-cry will send a chill down the spine of most would-be foes. And even with strong defenders who stepped to their fore, the Does and Vernes and their younger Pokémon couldn’t help but shrink back from the wild Druddigon’s approach.

“Haxorus!”

But of course, there are other Pokémon who are ready to match their ferocity, including Carol’s Haxorus. He stepped forward, flashing his tusks and crouching before his children to defend them with a stiff Dual Chop, loudly declaring that he would not tolerate the wild Druddigon threatening his children and companions. And that he would gladly put her in her place.

I have no doubt my mate would’ve tried to make good on those threats, with or without his human’s guidance or the presence of allies like John’s Scolipede or Jane’s Marowak at his back. Unfortunately for him, it was not merely the sunbather that he would’ve had to fight his way past.

“Gon!”

I sharply tugged at my mate and motioned down the catwalk with my claw towards a sight that made his freeze. The fisher was crawling back onto the catwalk just then, and was in a similarly ornery mood, he clapped and let out a roaring call. A second Druddigon wouldn’t be enough to normally give the Haxorus pause, but the view at the bridge’s end made his eyes widen and the color drain from his face.

There, at the hole punched into the wall, were at least a dozen pairs of eyes peering out. Some belonging to Druddigon, others to Mienfoo and Golett, with one set up high enough off the ground to belong to a Pokémon far stronger than the guardians which more commonly prowl the brush outside. The Does’ Pokémon began to backpedal towards their trainers to shield them, and as the wild Druddigon on the bridge prowled forward, my mate found himself frozen in place with a startled stammer.

“X-Xor…”

Whatever the local defenders might have lacked against us in individual might, they more than made up for it in numbers. As the sunbather pointedly reminded, none of them were willing to let themselves be pushed over without a fight. Naturally, they all had the stubbornness and determination that one would expect for Pokémon entrusted with being the custodians of a sacred place.

Fortunately, there are other ways of convincing such guardians to grant one passage. And even when dwelling in the shadow of the gods, the local Druddigon too are still subject to a dragon’s yearnings and delights.

“Drudd…”

Which was where those marbles I’d brought along came in handy.

“Gon! Gon Drud!”

I bowed forward and dropped onto all fours briefly, a traditional invitation among our kind to share the sun’s warmth together and the way we traditionally telegraph our amity to each other. It’s a gesture that humans apparently consider to be laying things on thick among their own kind…

“Gon!”

But it was enough to make the pair of wild dragons waver and dispel some of their frustrations. A quick pop back onto my feet and a flash of the marbles in my claw were enough to make them stand down, even if it earned me a fair share of befuddled stares from my companions, human and Pokémon alike.

It was just the opening I needed, to explain that personal embarrassments and flaring tempers aside, that we merely wished to come and pay reverence in a sacred place. That the little treasures in my claw were an offering to be passed along to them, their peers, and to the land’s master in return for safe passage. That even if my companions were strangers to this place, that they wouldn’t bring any harm to them or their abode.

Especially not while I, one who had grown up in their ranks, was there to keep a watchful eye over them.

That was enough to sway the two… well, after I threw in a couple extra marbles for good measure. The figures at the hole in the wall drifted off, while back on the bridge, the wild Druddigon both scooted aside out of our path. The sunbather lazily settled in and rested atop a few of the marbles I offered up, while the fisher went down a ways and laid in wait for the Basculin to come back towards the surface, leaving the left side of the bridge clear for us to pass.

Both the Does or Vernes traded blank stares at the sight. I guess they were a bit surprised that the same trick that they used to calm me and my mate when we were all younger would also work here in the wild. Though with humans and Pokémon growing up together and learning to communicate, it probably should have been easier for them to understand naturally.

“Druddigon!”

A quick walk past the two wilds and a turn back with a wave of my claw to urge them forward did the trick. I tried to throw in an explanation as well, but… with our difference in tongues, it took until the hatchlings began to come over themselves for things to click.

“I… think Neela’s saying that it’s safe to go on ahead?” Noel asked.

“Druddigon! Druddigon!”

The hatchlings eagerly cheered and pointed off at fins in the water, their racket startling them away in front of the fisher’s eyes. The sunbather turned back with a sour frown, as her fisher companion lying along the bridge turned his head up with a low growl:

One sternly reminding us that we’d requested passage into Dragonspiral Tower, and not to hover over their shoulders and spectate their lives.

My mate quickly came after them and hurried our children along, as the other Pokémon present started to nudge their trainers forward. It was then that Jane put two and two together, as she followed after us, turning towards the others as the interior of the tower started to come into sight.

“I think we should be fine, just watch your step inside,” she insisted. “We wouldn’t want to wear out our welcome here.”

Now, Dragonspiral Tower is a place that has seen its share of wear and tear through the ages, with the Pokémon that live there focusing on guarding their surroundings as they remembered being born into them. Much to their chagrin, some of that is simply because there is only so much knowledge for how to fix the things that eventually break there. Eventually, the efforts by the Pokémon to pass stories and knowledge down about how different parts of the tower and its grounds are meant to be, falls behind pace with the repairs that went forgotten or else never started.

Unfortunately, after thousands of years, this means that despite the effort to return and preserve the tower’s treasures, newer generations grow up remembering things in a broken state that has always been. It’s a state of affairs which sometimes is a source of angst for its inhabitants. This knowledge and effort lost to time leads to things like the large pool that greets everyone who enters the chamber that Team Plasma’s catwalk leads to. For as long anyone can remember, it has laid in the middle of crumbling floors and tilework, flooded by the moat outside leaking in through holes in the tower’s stonework.

Not even the eldest of Golurk from the tower seem to remember how that chamber originally looked like, much less whether or not it originally had a pool in it at all.

“Whoa! This place is gigantic!”

Though for Noel and his companions that day, those worries about whether all was as it ought to be in the tower were far from mind. Even in their dilapidated state, the circular and triangular sigils of the ancient floors’ tilework and the friezes on the walls continue to instill awe and inspiration into those who come to Dragonspiral Tower—both humans and Pokémon. My children were hardly an exception, as upon seeing the ancient space around them, they couldn’t help but reach out and paw at the ancient stones and tiles until I gave a gentle but firm nudge and tugged their claws away.

A glance further across the pool at one of the local Druddigon keenly watching us helped remind them why I intervened. After all, the Pokémon who dwell in these parts inspire awe in those that come to visit, too. And they instill respect in those who come to their home with ill intent through fierce guardianship, by tooth and claw if they deem it necessary. The Golett and Golurk descended from the ones said that helped the ancients lay the bricks and mortar are counted among their number to this day. The dragons that dwell here are among them too, and have stood guard over these grounds since the folkloric days where it was said to have been a shrine for both Truth and Ideals—days which I’ve been told are still are reflected in the names that humans from some faraway lands give this place. And of course, there are the Mienfoo and Mienshao, who are said to be the relative newcomers amongst Dragonspiral Tower’s guardians, and yet stand firm all the same, facing even the bitterest colds each winter without flinching.

There have been many stories behind how those guardians came to dwell in and around Dragonspiral Tower, stories of how this or that hero amongst their ranks won the favor and trust of some mixture of the ancients and the gods. But those are stories for another day, and they weren’t particularly on the mind of my children and my companions that day. Not while they remained fixed in rapt attention just from the ancient craftsmanship all around them. Even the elder humans like Jane weren’t immune, as she took a moment to peer off at the chamber’s high ceiling above.

“It’s hard to believe that before everything with Team Plasma happened, the only ways into this place were either through the roof, or a few tunnels that an Excadrill would find cramped,” she murmured.

Not that any of the residents would’ve complained about it, mind you. Which is why beyond such tunnels, the chamber where the catwalk opens into has remained cut off from the rest of the first floor to this day. For Druddigon, those tight passages aren’t far removed from what they might crouch and prowl through in the mountains and caves they more typically live in order to lie in wait while hunting. The other Pokémon that dwell in the tower who have to go through them are either short in stature like the Golett, or are capable of easily passing through while similarly crouched like the Mienfoo… except the likes of the occasional Golurk, I suppose, but they’ve always had their own ways of getting in and out.

Even if it weren’t as trifling an inconvenience, I’m not sure if any of Dragonspiral Tower’s Pokémon would have the heart to change things. After all, their local hatchlings are raised from young ages to lead simple lives watching over the places they call home when they aren’t living much like their counterparts in other parts of Unova: interfering with the sacred reminders they dwell in and among as little as possible.

It is because they understand that they live in a place that’s not truly theirs. Especially not now.

The wild Pokémon that day kept a watchful eye on us, but otherwise beyond a wary glance here or there, were content to let us pass by freely. Word had already passed among their ranks from the bridge to expect visiting pilgrims, and so long as no harm was done to the shrine or its inhabitants, there was no reason for them to step in.

Or at least that was the case until we happened to pass a Golett tending to some worn friezes by a small ramp of dislodged tiles and brickwork. Had I come on my own with the Does and Vernes, or even just with my elder peers such as my mate, or John’s Scolipede, or Jane’s Marowak, it probably would’ve been a moment that just blended in with the rest of our visit…

“Gon! Gon!”

Except we came along with my children that day, who while a bit grown, were still about as young in mind as the Doe children were when our story together first began. The sorts of children that no matter their species, seem to have a unique talent of complicating otherwise simple matters in life. As it happened, the hatchlings had brought a few baubles of their own from their hoards. Marbles that they’d taken a shine to rolling around much like their father did when he was younger.

And when the two spotted a ramp that was conveniently about their height, they of course were filled with the urge to roll something down it.

“Druddigon!”

At once, their curiosity and gravity took over, as they hurried over with marbles in claw while I and the others were distracted. They set their marbles down in pairs, making a crude race against each other as they rolled and clacked against each other and against ancient walls and floors much to their squealing delight. Were it done in Opelucid City’s own ancient places during the likes of its summer festival of dragons, or even in the presence of friends at their homes, perhaps it would’ve found a cheering onlooker eager to share in their fun and games…

“Lett!”

But this was a shrine to the gods and not a den or a marketplace. The Golett whirled around after hearing the clatter and let out a grinding hiss. How their kind does it, I’ve never fully known, but the sound of an angered Golett grates the ears much like claws dragging against slate. The Ghost-type raised one of its arms into the air, and made itself look larger while letting out loud hisses to make its displeasure clear. An experience that even many larger Pokémon would find startling, and one which made my children hurriedly jump back with startled yelps.

It was one of those moments where children reflexively seek the protection of their parents, and in a flash, without our humans’ guidance, my mate and I stepped forward to defend them. After all, some things don’t require prompting to know when to step in…

“Haxorus!”

Even if sometimes Pokémon like us might misjudge how to best go about it. My mate as a Haxorus has always been a fierce defender of the treasures in his life, whether his baubles, his companions, or his family. Perhaps some of that comes from a yearning to put his younger, more timorous days behind him, and perhaps some of that was simply a dragon’s protective impulses at play.

“Mienfoo!”

Either way, it didn’t particularly endear him to the nearby locals. The Golett became the Golett and three Mienfoo. And then it became those four and a pair of Druddigon. All around, various figures started to converge on us from elsewhere in the chamber and from low tunnels with sharp growls, every one of them ready for battle.

“H-Hax…?”

I suppose that even as someone with ties to this place, I can’t fault even my mate for being caught off guard by the experience. And after seeing that he and his trainer were surrounded, he grew unnerved enough to shrink behind me alongside our hatchlings. His human and the others drew in close to one another as their Pokémon stood before them, casting worried glances at the upset wilds that prowled towards us.

“Oh boy, you really put your foot in it this time, Chopper,” Carol murmured.

“Well this visit’s going great already,” John sighed. “I don’t suppose giving them more marbles will get them off our back?”

It couldn’t have hurt, but with the way their Pokémon braced themselves and sternly warned the approaching locals that they’d fight tooth and nail to defend their companions… it’d likely have sent mixed messages at best. In impasses such as those with wild Pokémon, nerves and patience to explain how one doesn’t mean any harm often go much further than brute strength towards resolving such incidents. Especially if you’re intending to pass through their territory again in the future on good terms.

“Drud! Drud!”

Having a common tongue and background with the wilds one is attempting to soothe in such a fashion certainly doesn’t hurt either. After a swift swipe to palm my hatchlings’ marbles, I held them aloft and tried to explain matters to the gathered crowd. That the two were still young enough that they didn’t fully understand the importance of this place. That with a pair of keen eyes and steady claws, they could be taught and kept behaved long enough to learn.

There was a moment of quiet before the Pokémon, both wild and trained alike began to let their guards down. The tower’s inhabitants began to drift off, and even the Golett turned back to its friezes, but not without turning and speaking a stern warning to us in its tongue:

That there were times and places for fun and games, but that in a sacred place like this, we should not assume they would be the same as in the dens they dwelt in. That this tower was held places which other Pokémon called home and that causing disorder wouldn’t endear ourselves to them. And most importantly, that it was not their displeasure as guardians in particular that we should be most afraid of incurring during our visit.

It was one of those warnings which was best affirmed before hurrying past the speaker. Something we and our companions were all too eager to do. After slipping past the Golett, we started to approach the bottom of a set of stairs, where my mate pulled his children in close and cooed reassurances to them that things were alright, all as our humans caught up and took stock of the ordeal they’d been through.

A moment where all was well that ended well, except for one important sticking point:

“Druddigon…”

I gave a stern growl and looked down at my children, passing along a pointed reminder in our tongue. That we were in a place where every step we took was on sacred ground. That every brick, every flake of ancient paint, was to be treated with the same respect as the relics they passed while traveling through the woods. That the locals had been quite gracious to us in the encounter we’d just had when there were tales from when I was growing up of others who were summarily chased off entirely for doing less.

The hatchlings let out low grunts in reply, of grudging agreements that a child would give when one knows one has to regardless of whether or not it’s wanted. James and his companions traded uneasy glances in the background as my children answered me. I don’t know how much of my explanation they understood, but somehow James must’ve gotten the idea that I didn’t want my children going along with us…

“... Maybe it’d be for the best if Rufus and Rudd sat this one out,” James sighed. “It sure seems like it’s easy to rile up the Pokémon here.”

“Drud!”

Which was not at all the point I was trying to make. I threw out an arm to catch his arm and even threw in one of those human head shakes to correct him as I tried to explain the matter again. That this was a special place, and just being here and walking the tower’s halls was an honor for everyone, young and old. Seeing Dragonspiral Tower’s majesty as faded images through a simulated sky that one’s claws could never reach was like seeing one of their human photographs of this place, or the moving pictures on their ‘televisions’. One didn’t come in person to Dragonspiral Tower just to see it like that.

I doubt that the humans understood most of it, but in the end, most Pokémon and humans live their lives together passing things along to each other in broad strokes. James traded a glance between me, and my mate and children, before pulling the Pokéball back as Jane came over and looked down at me with a sigh.

“... Alright, but if Rufus and Rudd get us into trouble again, we’re going to stick with traveling around here with Pokémon we know the wild Pokémon here won’t get upset with,” Jane warned. “Understood?”

I relayed things as best as I could to my children, who eagerly insisted they wouldn’t cause any trouble. Perhaps I should’ve known better than to assume that that’d truly be the end of things, but it’d have been a short story had we turned back there.

No, that was the point where we continued on deeper into the tower, and climbed up onto the second floor where the more memorable parts of our visit truly began.

Now, it should be emphasized that while its original creators are long-gone and remembered mostly through folklore and its condition is commonly considered to be ruined, that there is very much life in and around Dragonspiral Tower. Its lower levels are taken up by descendants of the Pokémon that the ancients and gods tasked with guarding their shrine. As such, much of it also serves as places for those Pokémon to rest, to rear their young, and to live out their everyday lives.

And of course, they also are places where those same Pokémon heed that spark inside them that draws them to battle with others. Which as Pokémon that understand themselves to be guardians of their territory, leads to a strong appetite for chances to display their strength before their peers… if a bit more carefully than they might in the surrounding forests.

“Mienfoo!”

We happened to come across such a battle that day in a more open portion of Dragonspiral Tower’s second floor. One between a local Mienfoo and one of the local Druddigon. The pair squared off with each other, trading skirmishing blows as a small gathering of local wilds looked on from the sidelines from between ruined stone pillars, which the Does and Vernes and the rest of us similarly observed from a distance.

One would be forgiven for thinking that a Mienfoo would be the type to reflexively cringe and scurry away from a challenge by a larger and more imposing foe like a dragon, but as with many Pokémon, looks can be deceiving. Those weasels have always been surprisingly bold and determined opponents, and even in habitats far removed from Dragonspiral Tower, they are said to have a talent as hunters for taking prey larger than themselves.

Perhaps that was why they were among the Pokémon the ancients entrusted to watch over the tower. After all, as Pokémon raised from their youth to defend a sacred place, part of growing into being a faithful guardian is simply learning to lose the fear of bigger or stronger foes. A valor that the Mienfoo put on full display with a flurry of punches and kicks as he bobbed and weaved about his Druddigon foe.

“Gon!”

But size and strength mattered that day, and with a swipe of a claw trailing dragonfire, the Druddigon caught the Mienfoo in his stomach and sprawled him out. The Mienfoo rolled to a stop as the Druddigon lunged and pounced on his foe, pinning the Mienfoo to the ground under his claws and bringing his fangs down to his opponent’s neck.

The hatchlings watched intently as the wild Mienfoo pinned his ears back and squeaked in his tongue. That he conceded his foe had him at his mercy and yielded. The Druddigon lingered briefly, before letting the Mienfoo clamber onto his feet and dart off for the surrounding audience with his tail tucked between his legs in defeat.

A few of the onlookers expressed disappointment or condolences for the vanquished Fighting-type, while others broke out into cheers for the victor. My own children, delighted to see one of their distant kin emerge victorious, joined in the cheers with little growls of approval of their own. It’s one of those things that sometimes unsettles visitors unfamiliar with the locals’ ways, even if it’s not far removed in spirit from a battle between trainers. But without the benefit of understanding us, humans have to put try and piece together our motivations and the meaning of such battles on their own…

“Oh, thank goodness,” Carol said. “For a moment, I thought that that Druddigon was going to finish that Mienfoo off right in front of us.”

“Nah, it’s just a bit of competition between them,” James insisted. “If they didn’t get along, you wouldn’t see them all cooped up together side-by-side in the tower like this.”

Well, around Dragonspiral Tower, anyways. In other places, that wild Mienfoo probably really would have been lunch after being bested by a Druddigon in battle. But as a fellow guardian, the Druddigon did not heed his instincts as a hunter that day—not that his fellows would’ve suffered him well if he had. After all, the Mienfoo and his kind around Dragonspiral Tower help shoulder the burden of protecting its relics, especially during the bitter colds of winter. And as such, that alliance and camaraderie outweighed any other more primal considerations.

For the longest time, I thought that that was a practice which was particular to the Pokémon that live about Dragonspiral Tower. I’ve since heard others say that Pokémon in other places sometimes ally in such a fashion. In places where normal considerations of predator and prey are ignored among Pokémon who share a territory and a common cause…

“Drud! Gon!”

Not that it necessarily keeps such Pokémon humble. The wild Druddigon was flush with victory and spread his wings, throwing his head back with a triumphant roar: proudly announcing his strength to all those watching and challenging anyone present to come and test it.

“Heh, someone’s having a good time,” John chuckled. “Reminds me of when Neela and my Pokémon finally got past Brycen’s Gym.”

“Druddigon! Druddigon!”

The kids were ecstatic over the battle’s turn, my younger child cheering on the wild Druddigon for his well-fought victory while my elder one wondered aloud to himself if those Gym Battles I’d told stories about were like this too.

… Perhaps he wondered that to himself a bit too loudly, since the wild Druddigon perked up at the mention of those past battles and our eyes met. One thing led to another, and…

“Drud! Druddigon!”

He sauntered forward, head raised and wings fanned out in challenge with a throaty growl. Proudly declaring to his peers that he had strength enough to best any “human’s pet” who was bold enough to battle him.

For a Pokémon, when such boasts come from a peer, they might prompt a dismissive reply, or spark a competitive urge to prove them wrong. But when such boasts come from a dragon... they have a way of unnerving creatures who can’t match their strength. Especially for younger humans much like Noel who was still in grade school at the time, and nervously reached for a Pokéball around his waist.

“Um, Carol?” Noel asked. “The Pokémon here compete with each other, right?”

And they do, but they also seek battles with foes from afar. Humans and their companions are often popular for wild Pokémon to challenge in general, especially since battles with them are seen as being relatively safe. Humans and their companions are usually quick to yield and flee when bested, and typically allow one to slink off when defeated. Granted, when doing so, a Pokémon telegraphs an openness to being around human companionship. It’s part of some unspoken contract that governs how we challenge each other. One that humans and Pokémon alike—even from lands far, far away from Unova—have stories of all sorts about how it first came to be…

But I can’t imagine that there’d be too many humans that the wild Druddigon that challenged me wouldn’t have worn his welcome out with. Especially with his attitude. And with the way he was unnerving my children to the point that they were huddling behind me, I spread my wings back in challenge and answered back with a growl of my own.

“Gon! Druddigon!”

I told him that I had no interest in sparring, and that any fight between us would be a fight with a mother defending her children. Unfortunately, like humans, Pokémon can also be pushy about picking battles sometimes. The wild Druddigon gave a dismissive snort back, and flashed his claws and fangs in challenge.

“Chopper! Hit him with a Dragon Tail!”

The challenging Druddigon briefly turned his head at Carol’s cry, when a flash of yellow and gray scales dove in. The wild Druddigon turned too late, just in time for a square blow from a tail cloaked in dragonfire to strike the side of his head. The Dragon Tail launched the wild Druddigon back with a yelp, where he landed at the feet of a few onlooking guardians with an unceremonious thud. The gathered wilds all went dead silent as the Druddigon laid there for a moment, righting himself in a daze when he glanced up and saw piercing black and red eyes from a Haxorus reared up and flashing his tusks, ready for battle.

“Haxorus!”

The wild Druddigon froze briefly, before turning away with his wings pinned back to make himself look smaller, his own tail all but tucked between his legs as he hurriedly slunk off. A few of the onlooking wilds audibly thought twice about making challenges of their own, while others snickered at the drake’s humbling. Even my children couldn’t help but giggle at how silly it was for him to boast so loudly only to then turn tail in retreat.

Good riddance, really. And I said about as much as I watched my would-be challenger scurry off. Things calmed quickly after that as the other wilds began to drift away, and eager to soothe her companions, Jane stepped up and pat at my crest, looking off at Noel to try and reassure him that all was well.

“As long as we don’t get too many wilds riled up at once, I think that we’ll manage,” Jane reassured Noel. “Just stick close with our tougher Pokémon and don’t wander off.”

It was solid advice from her, really. Even if we quickly discovered that heeding it would be harder than we thought when there were young children in the mix.

Now, one might ask how on earth a parent would lose track of one’s own children, and I suppose even I’m still a bit embarrassed about how it all happened. But much like it is with other Pokémon, or even with humans, one of the quickest ways to lose track of one’s young is to simply spend time passing through crowds.

And as a place prized by those that dwell in and around it, the dens of the Pokémon that stand guard over Dragonspiral Tower have always been on the more crowded side. And when we chanced to come across a few of them shortly after our encounter with the sparring locals, we came across those fated crowds ourselves.

“Whoa! Look at all the little Druddigon!”

Ones that had an awful lot of little faces that looked much like my children’s at a passing glance. Especially when they were all huddled up together a dozen strong and clambering over each other with curious calls and eyes glancing up, all under the watchful gaze of an elder Druddigon who kept a jealous watch on us, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice.

Fortunately, the Does and their companions knew better from years of experience training Pokémon than to go poking and prodding at them as they pleased, especially at ones they didn’t share a bond with as companions. Even so, something about the sight struck the Vernes, and Carol in particular as being strange.

“Are… they creching?” she asked. “I didn’t know that Druddigon did that.”

“Huh? Did the Druddigon you saw around Opelucid not gather their young together?” Jane asked, giving a puzzled cock of her head. “Since the ones here around town have done it for as long as anyone remembers.”

Perhaps my own frame of reference has been skewed a bit by humans who do much the same with their own young in their ‘day cares’, but I have to remind myself sometimes that the Druddigon that dwell in and around Dragonspiral Tower behave in ways that seem strange to outsiders. I’ve heard tales of Pokémon from faraway regions that act in ways that outsiders similarly find peculiar... like those calm-blooded Tauros that are said to hail from a faraway island region.

While I never considered the ways of my home to be unusual, the behaviors of Dragonspiral Tower’s dragons apparently strike other dragons from Unova as being strange. Even to those that hail from a mere day’s journey away.

Perhaps some of that is just a matter of being closer to each other—in a matter of speaking. Since Dragonspiral Tower is a more crowded territory than those of most other dragons in this world, and Druddigon fare better together in greater, closer groups than most of their peers. It is custom among the ones that live in and around the ruins to choose guardians from those peers to trust with watching over their younglings. Watchful eyes and strong claws who keep those young dragons safe in their parents’ absence.

“Gon! Druddigon!”

As it so happened, a second creche happened to be passing by on their feet at the time, led by a younger guardian who seemed a bit nervous and fraught. She spent her time constantly darting here and there about her charges trying to hem in stragglers and would-be strays, and seemed to have trouble commanding the respect of her peers who looked on from the side with low, disapproving growls. I never picked up the full story behind why, but from their reactions, my guess is that she was inexperienced and of their lower ranks. One who had yet to earn the respect of her counterparts. Even her own charges seemed to be a bit reluctant to be under her care, with one pair of youngsters in particular pinning their wings back and constantly glancing about for openings to sneak away.

“Druddigon! Druddigon!”

None of which occurred to my children, who upon seeing a crowd of young Druddigon like themselves, darted ahead into their midst with cheerful cries of greeting. The wild younglings were similarly taken by surprise, as they began to crowd around and paw and nose curiously, since for most of them, this was the first time they’d seen a Druddigon from outside of their own age and size.

Blue started to blur into blue hides and red into red heads and spikes, when Noel hastily threw a hand in and tugged my elder child back with a sharp scold.

“Rufus, don’t wander off like that!” he exclaimed. “This place is really easy to get lost in!”

James’ Servine called out for his teammate, who in turn grudgingly started to drift away from his wild peers himself as disappointed whines rang out. I headed over, eager to hurry my child along, when all of a sudden, a sharp cry pricked the air and turned our heads down the corridor in the direction that the inexperienced Druddigon’s creche came from.

“Shao!”

There, sauntering forward, was a Mienshao standing tall and proud—a bit moreso than I expected, with a gait that seemed unusually human-like for his kind. For a brief moment from appearances, I thought I was seeing my mentor from the Does’ household who’d somehow caught up with us by surprise, only for the large cohort of Mienfoo following along to remind me otherwise. He was one of Dragonspiral Tower’s more elite defenders, one among a small number of creatures that only rarely attain such strength in the wilds, after many years of life.

My understanding is that such elite guardians now appear before humans inside the tower much more commonly than they did in the years prior to Team Plasma’s arrival at Dragonspiral’s Tower. Perhaps as a reminder that they and their comrades won’t be run roughshod over a second time. But neither the Does nor the Vernes knew anything about that during our visit, and so for them, the sighting was a rare treat.

“Whoa, I didn’t know that there were wild Mienshao that just popped up like this!” John murmured. “I thought they usually stayed away from humans!”

The Mienshao and his cohort marched along, with the Druddigon creche joining in and intermixing with their ranks. All the while, their younger faces would steal glances at us and our companions as they passed, before at the very end, as the throng of Pokémon thinned out, I quickly noticed that something was amiss.

“Drud?”

Namely that my children were no longer there with us. I turned my head about, stealing glances around the chamber only to find neither nor scale of my children.

“Hey, John? Did you see where Rufus got off to?”

James and Noel were the first of our humans to notice, as they started to scan their surroundings with their Pokémon. Some like Jane’s Marowak raised their voice to ask the surrounding wilds. There were still a few younger Druddigon lingering about, but again and again, none of them were my children. Even checking the ranks of the creche still huddled together further behind us turned up nothing. My breaths started to come short and tense with anxiety, when I turned back towards the direction where the Mienshao and the others had left—just in time to spot the blue-and-red tails of a pair of youngsters scampering away further down the hall.

“Druddigon!”

I dropped to all fours and darted over, coming across a pair of young Druddigon and all but snatching the pair up. They yelped at my grasp, and caught up in a wave of relief, I gave a scolding growl at them to not wander off and scare me like that. The pair turned and kept their heads down with growling whines, and I didn’t suspect that anything was wrong as the others caught up…

“There you are, Rufus. I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

Noel was the first to arrive, followed by his sister and my mate. The Haxorus breathed a sigh of relief and made his way forward with claw outstretched to pat at his children’s crests, as he’d done many a time since they’d hatched.

“Drud… D-Drud…”

Except, as the youngsters turned to face him, something about the pair’s faces didn’t seem right. And stranger still, they were shrinking back with low whimpers and whines, looking up wide-eyed at the Haxorus’ tusks. My mate and I were both taken aback at their sudden change in demeanors when their nerves abruptly failed.

“DRUDDIGON! DRUDDIGON!”

Before I could ask what was going on, the pair let out frightened squeals and fled, a number of local Mienfoo and Golett hurrying out from their places along the wall from further ahead and cutting us off with piercing glares. Everything went by in a confused daze for a moment, when James decided that things had gone on for long enough, and hurriedly took a Pokéball in his hand before aiming it at the smaller of the young Druddigon.

“Yeesh! It’s just one thing after another with you two today!” James cried. “Come on, Rudd. It’s time to take a break.”

James tapped the center of the ball, and as expected, a red light shot out, arcing its way towards the young Druddigon… except it cut out and faded halfway over. A few alarmed cries went out among the wild Pokémon, with a Golett stepping in front of the pair to shelter them while others took a few paces forward, limbs raised for battle.

My mate and I stood our ground as our humans took cover behind us, but amidst the confusion, James kept stealing blank glances down at his failed Pokéball with a startled grimace.

“I-I don’t get it, why isn’t my Pokéball working on Rudd?”

From behind my mate, Noel warily stole glances past the wilds and their united front, before he chanced to spot the younger of the little Druddigon poking his head out and raised his own Pokéball before tapping the center. Once again, the light came out halfway, before it too cut out and vanished with no effect.

“Ack! Mine’s not taking Rufus back either!” Noel cried. “What on earth is going on?!”

“Mienfoo!”

Well… no effect aside from making the locals even more riled up at us, as this time, the ones staring us down were cut off by reinforcements from the rear, this time from the Druddigon who we’d passed watching over the creche down the corridor. Their elders had joined the fray, approaching with wings flashed out wide in warning. John and Jane’s Pokémon stepped to the head to stand guard but even so, something about the wilds’ words made us hesitate.

That those two younglings belonged here in this sacred place and were not ours to take.

“H-Hax?”

I opened my mouth to growl back in frustration, when I noticed the other creche guard was among the Druddigon who’d come to stop us, and brushed past us to pat at the younglings and calm them down. It was then that as I saw their faces peeking back out from hiding, my jaw dropped in shock.

Sure enough, even if they looked eerily similar, they weren’t my children. But those of another dragon whose story I don’t know.

As for where mine were… well…

That I only know from the benefit of hindsight and from other Pokémon’s words, so I can’t vouch for it being the truth to the same extent as the rest of my story. But to the best of my knowledge, while I and my companions were panicking over my children’s disappearance, they were off on an adventure of their own.

I suppose that if I’d known where my children were at the time, I’d have been a bit less worried. Since there are worse outcomes for one’s child wandering off in the wilds than stumbling into the care of friendly claws. But that was something that I learned about after the fact, and at the time, I reacted much as any mother would after her children went missing.

Though I’ll get to that after a short break, since I’ve already been going on for a bit longer than my average tale. And the places where things went from that point were quite a saga in themselves.

Unforgettable_Flygon · Aug 13, 2023

OK, so the first thing I notice is the style of this piece. It’s quite wordy, almost film-like, with very little dialogue in between. I suppose it makes sense given the context of the story, but it didn’t quite work for me. Being told what to imagine isn't as effective as me putting together a scene for myself.

Onto more positive things...

I for one like the narrator’s views on how the people of the Pokemon world give up-and-coming trainers their first Pokemon. Especially since they make a point that most Pokemon can leave.

There’s the implied dialogue here, which I do like slightly.:

Yeah, John got the honors of opening up that ball. It was just a run-of-the mill Pokéball, but hey, with that ribbon and polished surface, it would have been kinda hard for anyone not to get excited.

You also back up the narrator’s statements right after you describe a particular character’s traits fairly well, so point for that in my book. And I like how you describe the contrast between different areas in a reigon, how the local culture influences what starters most children get (who don’t get the lab starters.)

Skipping ahead, the spat between the adult Does is something, to say the least. This is clearly a setting where Pokemon can be much more dangerous (possibly) than the mainline canon, which I am intrigued by. I also like how most people don’t really give their kids powerful pokemon; because of course they can’t handle it!

Skipping over to the next chapter, the kids are clearly having issues handling a pet dragon. The incident with the Tranquil and it biting one of the kids was something I woulda expected. Again another reason why starters aren’t grown dragon-types.

I also see that Pokemon can be dangerous to each other even WITHOUT Moves. That’s something new I haven’t seen until before! Good on you for considering that, and it was a bit of black comedy.

Finally, I do wonder if there was ever a give, canon reason why the Pokemon of Dragonspiral Tower protect the place so fiercely. Though, stranger still is that... the people of the Pokemon world don;t know why they do this? Huh, interesting.

Overall, a good start! It’s not my cup of tea but you’re doing well!

Spiteful Murkrow · Sep 17, 2023

@Unforgettable_Flygon

OK, so the first thing I notice is the style of this piece. It’s quite wordy, almost film-like, with very little dialogue in between. I suppose it makes sense given the context of the story, but it didn’t quite work for me. Being told what to imagine isn't as effective as me putting together a scene for myself.

A bit unfortunate to hear. Unfortunately, I took a gamble on the story having a "voiceovered film" sort of vibe, so that's an artifact of that. Hopefully that didn't get too much in the way of your enjoyment.

I for one like the narrator’s views on how the people of the Pokemon world give up-and-coming trainers their first Pokemon. Especially since they make a point that most Pokemon can leave.

Yeah, I figured that that would be the logical outcome of training creatures that can casually trash your house. Since there's only so much a random office worker can do to force the likes of a fire-breathing lizard to stay with them if they don't want to.

... Or the Pokéballs could brainwash the Pokémon in them. But I assumed that they didn't and it'd have gone very counter to the overall vibe of this story if they did, thus that particular outcome.

You also back up the narrator’s statements right after you describe a particular character’s traits fairly well, so point for that in my book. And I like how you describe the contrast between different areas in a reigon, how the local culture influences what starters most children get (who don’t get the lab starters.)

Yeah, I tried to have the narrator's thought process leak into the narration since the narrator is a character in their own right in this story. Since the narrator comes from a context that's not like our own and I felt it was important to get things across.

Skipping ahead, the spat between the adult Does is something, to say the least. This is clearly a setting where Pokemon can be much more dangerous (possibly) than the mainline canon, which I am intrigued by. I also like how most people don’t really give their kids powerful pokemon; because of course they can’t handle it!

I mean, while it's not ever laid out in as blunt of terms in official media, it does broadly track with how the franchise handles things. After all, Liko would probably be having some problems if the Pokémon having hissy fits with her and giving her the occasional nick wasn't a Sprigatito.

Skipping over to the next chapter, the kids are clearly having issues handling a pet dragon. The incident with the Tranquil and it biting one of the kids was something I woulda expected. Again another reason why starters aren’t grown dragon-types.

Technically, Neela never bit one of the kids but pushed James over and got threatening towards him. But yeah. Even if Druddigon are treated as relatively accessible for a Dragon-type in this story, there was a reason why Mrs. Doe wasn't terribly thrilled at first that the kids didn't get a Mienfoo as their first Pokémon.

I also see that Pokemon can be dangerous to each other even WITHOUT Moves. That’s something new I haven’t seen until before! Good on you for considering that, and it was a bit of black comedy.

What can I say? Dragon-types like their poultry.

Finally, I do wonder if there was ever a give, canon reason why the Pokemon of Dragonspiral Tower protect the place so fiercely. Though, stranger still is that... the people of the Pokemon world don;t know why they do this? Huh, interesting.

There's no official canon reason why they're there in the franchise yet. I just went out on a limb, made some assumptions based off how the place has Pokémon that can't be encountered elsewhere in Unova and ran with it.

I can't speak for if the official franchise will ever give a formal explanation, but this story certainly does.

Overall, a good start! It’s not my cup of tea but you’re doing well!

Glad to hear that on balance you still had fun with things. If you come back to this story, I'll be looking forward to reading what you have to say about it.

Whelp, it took a while longer than I'd hoped to get this one together, but it's finally September 18th... in Japan, and as the anniversary of B1W1's initial release, it felt like as good a time as any to wrap up the continuation of this story. Once again, today’s extra and its preceding part are set chronologically after the events of the main story. As such, if you’re coming into this story blind, it’s strongly recommended to read today's update after everything else in the story published prior to it. Special thanks to @VeniaSilente for beta reading this extra, who helped get things into the final state that you see today.

Spiteful Murkrow · Sep 17, 2023

Extra - Finding Truth

Hi there, I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long, since I did still have that other part of my tale to tell. Though where exactly did I leave off again…?

Right, at the part where I, my mate, and my companions realized we’d mixed up my children with a pair of local youngsters. I don’t have too much to say about how we sorted out things with the local wilds afterwards other than that they were understanding. Mostly. They gave us an earful and after seeing that we didn’t mean any harm, left us to go our own way and tend to other matters that were weighing on our mind…

“Druddigon! Druddigon!”

Namely finding my children, which sent us going about the second tower of Dragonspiral Tower and leaving no stone unturned in our search. Doing so is a bit trickier in a place where every pebble and flake of paint is a sacred treasure, but even so, we passed what felt like a small eternity just looking around that ancient floor. Time has a way of flying by when one is stopping to crane one’s heads around every nook and cranny within reach, especially when there was no shortage of them to search around.

“Haxorus? Haxorus!”

My mate was by my side and searching, too. He would bring his tusked head high and low, peeking into dens and around ancient columns and walls for any sign of our children… and occasionally getting into an argument with one the local wilds in the process. Ones that I would then need to step in to sort out. Even our humans and our other companions joined in, as they followed our trails and checked the places we could not reach. Like us, they too went about calling out for our children as they walked through the ancient chambers, raising their voices in the hope that one of them might hear them.

“Rufus! Rudd! Where are you?!” James cried.

“Come on!” Noel added. “It’s not safe for you to sneak off like this!”

Though even between a dozen humans and Pokémon put together, Dragonspiral Tower is not exactly a small search area. Especially when you’re trying to search while staying together in order to avoid getting lost yourself. All the while, our procession started to attract a small train of local Pokémon. At first we drew the attention of wary guardians, then of curious onlookers. One of the latter was a male Druddigon who’s stuck in my mind in particular from how unfortunate our encounter was. I remember the way he approached me like it was yesterday, and how he nudged me as he passed before stepping back and fanning his wings out in full view.

“Gon… Drudd?”

Something must’ve gotten lost along the lines to his ears, as the first thing he told me after catching my attention was that he’d heard that my children had moved along… and that the spring was still young enough for there to still be time to bear new ones. Ones which would have a set of watchful claws to stand guard over them.

It was… a very forward offer, the sort that even if I didn’t already have a mate, I likely would’ve still answered it with the same piercing glare and growl that I did at the time.

“Haxorus!”

To say nothing about how angry my would-be suitor’s advances made my mate. My mate lunged ahead with a swing of his tusks at the interloper, just missing the wild Druddigon’s wings and sending him scurrying away with a startled yelp. The Haxorus snarled and was about to give chase after the wild, when Carol hurried in, tugging at her companion’s arm and pleading with him to settle down.

“Chopper, don’t go picking fights like that! You’ll rile these Pokémon-!”

“Lurk…”

Which I suppose was a matter which would’ve settled itself in short order, as before Carol could finish her words, the ground shook from the heavy footsteps of a Golurk approaching us. Worse still, the Ghost-type came flanked by a small mob of other wilds gathered at its sides, including my would-be suitor, who growled with wounded pride in the ranks of a good dozen of his peers.

It was just the sort of encounter that would make just about any creature freeze up like a startled Deerling, and our humans were no exception. The mood of our group grew tense and uneasy, as the color drained out of Carol’s face after realizing just how tight of a spot my mate’s temper had gotten us into.

“... Up.”

I suppose I can’t really blame my companions for their reaction. Staring down so many angered Pokémon, including a number of Druddigon flashing tooth and claw, is an experience that even a dragon would find intimidating. My mate, too, found himself swiftly regretting his earlier outburst, and hurriedly stepped in front of his trainer and braced himself for battle. He flashed his tusks back defiantly, but even so, he couldn’t hide a nervous grimace from his face. In the face of such opposition, he was no longer certain his strength would be enough to protect his trainer or his other companions.

“Druddigon!”

Fortunately, words sometimes have a way of accomplishing what even a dragon’s might can’t. I stepped out before the encroaching wilds and turned my snout up to bear my throat, to show them that I meant no harm. Perhaps I laid it on a bit thick and was a bit more supplicative than I’d normally like, but the appeal did its job: it showed them that we didn’t wish to fight and wanted to make amends.

The surrounding wilds hesitated briefly, before I bowed and dropped to all fours, raising my voice to try and explain ourselves. I told them that we were sorry for any trouble that we’d caused as guests to their home, but that I was at my wits’ end as a mother separated from her children. That as their mother, that I just couldn’t bear to leave them behind in a place where they were strangers all on their own.

“Golurk.”

The Golurk motioned for a pause as the surrounding wilds traded glances with each other, some giving dismissive scoffs about our plight, others murmuring in understanding. For me and my companions, it gave much-needed reassurance that we weren’t about to face down a wall of scale and fang. But the words of Pokémon like us have a way of being lost on human ears. That occasion was no exception, as James failed to make sense of our words, and gave a dumbfounded look down to his Servine after the Grass-type tugged at him and motioned ahead.

“Huh? What’s going on?”

The Pokémon around the Golurk parted ways, as a Mienfoo and a Golett from their ranks marched towards us. They came along, pushing a pair of squirming bundles of blue and red scales forward—the lookalike youngsters we’d run into earlier.

The two pinned their wings against their bodies with shy glimpses up and shrank away from the larger Pokémon in our group. Jane blinked in response, before turning to the Golurk with a puzzled frown.

“Er… they’re cute, but these two aren’t our Pokémon,” she said. “Our Pokéballs wouldn’t work on them even if we wanted them to.”

Jane pointed at a Pokéball to try and emphasize her point, only for the Golurk to ignore her and point off into the distance, towards a set of ancient stairs that went past the ceiling and onto the next floor. The ancient golem continued speaking in its eerie, almost grinding voice, explaining how my youngsters weren’t as alone as we’d feared. That their creche had been part of a procession that had representatives of all the tower’s guardians, and if we reunited these two youngsters with their creche on the floors above, that we’d surely get my children back.

It… admittedly took a few tries to successfully pass the instructions along to the Does and the Vernes, but after the Mienfoo and the Golett pointed the youngsters at each other and mimed an exchange of the hatchlings in front of us… the message sank in well enough for John to understand the point.

“So we just go up those stairs until we find that group from earlier, and then trade these two for our Druddigon?” he asked.

A nod from my companions and I as we’d learned to do long ago confirmed our humans’ wonderings. As such, it came time for the young doppelgangers to join us temporarily. They approached me meekly, peeking past my wings at the strange-looking Pokémon who were nearby me with my humans… especially the scary-looking Haxorus who was just by my side, and made the elder of the youngsters shrink back with a nervous whine.

“G-Gon?”

Their fears were assuaged soon enough by a scratch under the young dragonlet’s chin, first by me, then by my mate. The young Druddigon tilted his head up as the Haxorus eagerly reassured them that no matter our appearances, that none of us would bring them any harm. That until we returned them to their creche, we’d protect and care for them as if they were our own.

James’ Servine was the next to introduce himself to the pair with a wave of his leaves. Then came Jane’s Marowak and Sawsbuck—complete with an unfortunate remark by the younger of the two dragonlets about him looking ‘delicious’ that we swiftly brushed aside. By the time it was John’s Stoutland and Scolipede turn to come over and make themselves known, the youngsters had lost their unease enough to give them wary, explorative pats of their own. Things settled down a bit afterwards, as the Golurk and the other wilds drifted off, and John turned his attention off for the stairs with a sigh.

“Right, guess that’s a sign we should get moving along,” he said. “Rufus and Rudd must be starting to get worried from being separated from anyone they know in a bunch of ancient ruins like these…”

Which, I suppose they were, even if things turned out quite differently from what we had feared at the time.

That part of the story is one that I admittedly only know from what others told me after the fact, including my children. And as such, it can sometimes be hard for me to tell what is improbable truth and what is merely flights of fancy.

But, from the best that I was able to piece things together, right around the time we’d received our guidance to find my children, they were walking along none the wiser a few floors above us. Mixed in with the rest of the inexperienced guardian’s creche. My understanding is that my children got mixed up with them in the first place after they chanced to overhear from one of the youngling wilds that they were on a journey for a special day and decided to tag along after their curiosity got the better of them.

One thing led to another, and before they knew it, my children were roped into the ranks of a procession of various local guardians, all making their way up for the tower’s higher floors. They trudged along, passing the parts of Dragonspiral Tower where only the strongest of Pokémon that live there dare make their dens, and carrying on into the parts of the tower that are left unclaimed entirely beyond sparing visits. My children apparently picked up on the shift in atmosphere and began to grow unnerved themselves, with my younger child spending much of the trek nervously cradling his marble in his claws.

Now children have a certain degree of naivete and innocence to them while they are younger, one that my own children still had at the time, and I suppose that they still do to this day. To them, those upper floors seemed much the same as the ones that they’d already gone through, except quieter and lonelier.

I suppose it was partly my fault for not teaching them more about Dragonspiral Tower before coming. Since if I had, they’d have known that they were passing through spaces that had been set aside for visitors to steel themselves. A place to clear one’s mind and compose oneself before entering the presence of the god who’d made a roost at the top of Dragonspiral Tower.

And, in light of the stories about that god from the past: they were also spaces that provided a safe berth. Just in case someone who came before that great being threw him into a rage.

All of which were things that my children remained ignorant about as they carried along with the surrounding crowd of strangers and kept trying to break an increasingly stifling atmosphere by finding little snatches of amusement for themselves… attempts which didn’t particularly endear them to the shrine’s guardians who were present. There were representatives of all the that watched over the tower making the journey: young and old, weak and strong, and with all their kinds accounted for in their ranks. Druddigon, Mienfoo and Mienshao, Golett and Golurk… why there was apparently even a Dragonite who was born to that little colony of sea serpents in the moat who was present. That same one that is said to have started some years ago after one of their kind took shelter there after being wounded and came to take a local Druddigon as a mate.

Though being the restless souls that they were, my children grew increasingly tired of marching along, and had grown more than a little unnerved by the ever-more-noticeable lack of life in their surroundings. And much like any other restless children herded along by adults, they started to look for opportunities to slip away.

“Gon!”

Which time and time again were thwarted by the creche’s guardian, who would dutifully herd them back into line, if increasingly worn down by having to do the same with over a dozen other souls who’d gotten similar ideas at the most inopportune times. The final straw finally came in a hall with a decorated frieze, where my children’s attention drifted off towards a small collection of pebbles that had broken off and laid at its base. One pebble with a flash of red on it caught my elder child’s eye, and without thinking, he went over and scooped it up, sharing it with his brother…

“DRUDDIGON!”

Only to be summarily interrupted by the creche’s guardian, who yanked it out of his claws and bellowed in his face. She let out a frustrated roar, declaring that she had put up with enough of their misbehavior during the journey, and didn’t need them making a mockery of the ritual they were participating in on top of everything else.

Which, I suppose, was only to be expected coming from a Pokémon of her sort. And it was perhaps a more generous reaction than what some more harsh-minded types among her peers might have done. Though being roared in one’s face by someone bigger and stronger than you takes nerves to stand firm against, and for a pair of children worn down from a long and increasingly tiresome walk that’d stopped being fun for them…

“Goooooon!”

It was just the push they both needed to break down, as they began to whine and cry for their mother. The creche guardian grimaced and bit her tongue at my children’s cries. After all, Pokémon like her who care poorly for their charges often aren’t suffered well once those youngsters’ true parents hear about their treatment. Between her inexperience, and growing worries over how a job done poorly would reflect on her or lead to things being taken out of her hide, the caretaker began to have her own nerves start to fray.

“D-Drud… Druddigon!”

The Druddigon hurried over and pawed and nudged at my children, cooing at them with hushed apologies and reassurances that their actions weren’t that bad, since no harm had come to the sacred pebble they’d disturbed. That surely the whole episode could be all swept under the den and forgotten.

Her efforts fell flat as my children remained inconsolable, while the others from her creche looked on puzzledly, and the rest of the procession stopped and stared. The guardian’s inexperience had apparently carried over to other duties in the past, as a few onlookers were particularly unimpressed with her. Some even gave wondering harrumphs to themselves as to how on earth she had ever been put in charge of watching over a creche of youngsters of all things.

“Shao?”

The caretaker Druddigon cringed and pinned her wings back as the Mienshao from earlier came over. He traded a glance between her and her still-crying charges, before cupping a wispy-furred paw under one chin and then the other, and giving a set of gentle scratches to calm my children. As the pair sniffled and began to settle down, the Mienshao stooped before them, and asked them what was going on, and why the two were troubling their caretaker so?

“Gon?”

“Druddi… gon?”

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who thought that Mienshao resembled my mentor, as even my children got things mixed up with him at first.

The Mienshao paused with a knowing murmur under his breath, before turning to the Druddigon guardian and speaking up in explanation: that he had an idea of who these two were, since he’d encountered Pokémon like them before from lived experience. These youngsters weren’t the two charges she initially thought, but outsiders from their tower who dwelt among humans.

I was told that the caretaker Druddigon went stiff with a startled grimace afterwards, and looked about ready to keel over from embarrassment as snickers and unimpressed grumbles at her mistake went about the other Pokémon. Including from some of her own creche’s younglings. The Mienshao let his gaze linger on my children for a moment, before turning to the others with a sharp cry.

“Shao! Mienshao!”

Nothing about their plans had changed, he insisted. Even with a pair of outsiders in their midst, the tributes they brought for their god would surely be accepted all the same. At this, my younger child blinked and raised his head up at the Fighting-type with a curious murmur.

“Druddi… gon?”

Wondering just what there ‘tributes’ that they were going to offer were.

“Mien…”

The Mienshao looked down at the marble in my youngest child’s claws, before explaining that like them, they had all brought treasures of their own to offer and motioned off at some of the elder Pokémon in the crowd. Some brought food that had been their first fruits taken from the surrounding forest, others came bearing flowers and fragrant plants that would be pleasing to smell, while still others carried little baubles of their own. Ones with splendid colors or glistening surfaces that would gleam after catching a suitable ray of light.

My children blinked in reply, unsure what to make of the procession when the Mienshao took my younger child’stheir marbles and explained that those ‘tributes’ were gifts. Ones that they were quite lucky to be able to witness, since they would have the chance to take part of a ritual that until very recently, none of the Pokémon that lived in and around Dragonspiral Tower had been able to carry out in many lifetimes.

“Drud?”

The children were curious, since while their travels through Dragonspiral Tower had been special for them and they had heard others say it was a special day, none of the other Pokémon had mentioned anything before about there being a ‘ritual’ of some sort. The Druddigon caretaker opened her mouth and began to explain in her tongue only to be stopped by a gentle prod by a paw lined with wispy fur.

“Mienshao.”

The Mienshao assured her that the younglings would see for themselves why things were so special soon enough. There was a brief moment of hesitation, before my children followed along and rejoined the procession. They resumed their march shortly afterwards, as all the while, my children’s restlessness had tamped down, and wondered under their breaths to themselves about what this mysterious surprise might be.

I’m not sure whether or not knowing what my children were going through at the time would’ve comforted me at all, but without that knowledge, my companions and I were focused more on returning the two youngsters who’d joined our midst. Once we made our way up to the third floor, the overall atmosphere of the tower abruptly changed. Where there was bustling life just a floor before, now at the base of a spiraling set of steps that led to a platform with flooring that had been cracked into a maze, there was eerie silence and quiet. There were no dens made out in the open that could be seen, and what few footprints or shed scales and fur were present were only occasionally scattered about. Mostly from Pokémon who were far stronger than the wilds we’d left behind on the second floor.

My mate gave me a nudge and worried murmur, and asked if things were alright. I supposed that they were, but for Pokémon like me who grew up in this place, we were taught from a young age that the tower’s floors were not our own—that the higher one went, that the more one treaded on ever more sacred and dangerous ground. Even our humans put two and two together once they reached the top of the steps, where they found a metal sign set up against the wall. Placed there recently enough that there were no signs of weathering aside from a faint layer of dust, with human glyphs that Noel could read as clear as day from a dozen paces away.

“‘Do not enter, dangerous Pokémon territory ahead’?”

There was a long block of smaller human glyphs on the sign under the message. I can’t tell you what they said other than that it likely could’ve been replaced with ‘trespassers will be burned and eaten’ and it’d have communicated the danger of poking around willy-nilly just as effectively. John went over and inspected the sign, before casting a wary glance up towards the floor’s ceiling high above.

“... I knew that there were a couple sightings of the dragon around lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s not necessarily here, right?” he asked “It’s not as if it’s constantly just lurking here to burn up anything that gets too close…”
My mate let out a quiet squeak as a frightened tremor went down his spine at the idea of having to come face to face with a living god whose fiery pique was literally a thing of legends. I nudged him and reassured that things wouldn’t surely come to that, and that the dragon of legend who had awakened here a few years prior was most likely wandering about far, far away right now…

“Druddigon!”

Only for the youngsters accompanying us to perk up and cheerfully explain that that same dragon of legend would indeed be coming to the tower soon, and would be eagerly awaiting gifts of tribute. My mouth flopped open after their reply and I set my teeth on edge with a startled grimace. I suppose that I should’ve expected something of the sort to happen after the Golurk told us to head upwards. But at the time, I didn’t know about the watchful gazes my children were under just a few floors above us. And as youngsters who had already drawn the ire of the locals from their ignorance, I couldn’t help but start shedding scales over the thought of my children cheerfully stumbling headfirst into a fiery end.

“I doubt it, John. Otherwise there’d be more stories like that,” Jane replied. “But even so, if things were serious enough for the Rangers to leave a sign like this, we shouldn’t go tempting fate.”

“Right... do any of you have reception right now?” Carol asked “I brought my old X-Transciever with me. There should be Rangers on-staff around these parts. This would probably be a good time to stop and call them for help.”

Carol raised her wrist and held up a worn-looking device on it, one of those old watch things that used to be popular a few years ago that have since been falling out of favor for those slate-like “phones” which are all the rage these days. My mate huddled beside her, watching the screen anxiously as a chime rang out, when I looked to my right and noticed that the two youngsters were gone.

“Drud?”

I stiffened up and hurriedly dropped to all fours, sniffing the ground to catch their scent as I followed it into the maze of tiled platforms and upturned stones. I climbed one and made my way from one platform to the next between glides and clambering with my claws. All the while, I stopped and looked around for any sign of the younglings, keeping quiet so as not to alert my trainers.
“Druddigon! Druddigon!”

That was when I finally came across them: starting up the base of a set of steps that spiraled up again along an outer wall.

“Drudd!”

I darted forward and snatched the pair up and off the steps. They flinched under my grasp and pinned their wings back as I glared down at them and let out an annoyed growl demanding an explanation: of what on earth the two thought they were doing sneaking off from us, especially in a place like this where it was dangerous to wander about. I let out a low growl and reminded them that if anything had happened to the two, that their parents and untold numbers of their comrades would surely have my and my companions’ hides.

The pair squirmed briefly, before the younger of them raised his head, and lifted a claw to point off upward.

“Gon… Di…?”

They too had been told the stories about how these parts of the tower were places to tread carefully. And yet in spite of it, their creche had been given the honor of going up with a party of their elders to explore it that day. Whatever danger there was in this place, it didn’t apply to them since their caretakers had deemed it safe enough for them to come along.

I blinked and stared down at the two. And while I must confess it’s a tad embarrassing to admit, I couldn’t help but start to agree with the youngsters’ reasoning. After all, the Golurk had entrusted us with reuniting the dragonlets and said nothing about it being a dangerous task… and surely Pokémon born and raised among the ranks of the local guardians would be better prepared to handle any unexpected surprises.

“Gon! Gon!”

The elder of the two dragonlets already started his way up the stairs, flaring his wings and nosing upwards to beckon us to follow. According to him, the others had already come through here and it’d be easy enough to find them based off of their trail.

“Drud?”

I glanced down and sure enough, the stones around us did appear to be suspiciously free of dust, and there were even fresh footprints lingering about at the edges. I stopped and craned down to gather the travelers’ scent, picking up the smell of a party that had come through. One which had had Druddigon among their numbers, with two scents that lingered more than the others that stood out to me:

“Drud!”

The scents of my children. I didn’t need any prompting to come along after that and hurried after the elder dragonlet, all but dragging his younger counterpart with me up the steps when a startled cry rang out from the other end of the chamber.
“Ack! Where’s Neela?! She was just here with us a moment ago!”

I paused and flinched at the voice after realizing that it was James’. His siblings’ voice joined in with his afterwards in alarm, along with their Pokémon’s... and my mate’s, whose own voice sounded downright panicked. I couldn’t get a clear view of them from so far away, but every word of theirs echoing along the ancient walls and stones cut at my hide and made me waver.

About whether or not this was a good idea, about whether or not I should turn back…

“... Druddigon.”

I shook my head and sucked in a sharp breath. I’d been entrusted to return the two dragonlets in order to get my children back, with or without my companions’ help. A task that I already knew full well I’d be unlikely to explain to my humans, much less successfully convince them to join in with it.

I trudged along and tried not to listen to their voices as we headed upwards from the third floor. All the while, I kept telling myself that soon enough we’d be together and in each other’s claws once again.

The air seemed to grow heavier and heavier as the youngsters and I continued climbing up the upper floors of Dragonspiral Tower. On the fourth floor, we would turn up occasional footprints and scales or strands of fur from the procession of wild Pokémon we’d been tracking… along with scars in the walls and floors which bore testament to fierce battles in the past. The youngsters said they were left behind from trainers and their Pokémon fighting with each other during Team Plasma’s raid a few years past, or at least that was what they had been told by their elders.

I had no reason to disbelieve them from what I knew about their elder counterparts, even if the sight still made me wince. The fifth floor was a temporary respite from our climb, one which proved short-lived as we made our way into the main chamber. In that chamber, there is a strange, circular maze that one must pass through—one with gaps which are hard to jump or glide across even for a Druddigon. The one consolation was that the maze lacked walls outside a couple lonely remnants and a central column, which allows one passing through it to have a good look of the surroundings while navigating it and allows sound to travel far and wide.

“Druddigon! Druddigon!”

But once again, there was neither hide nor scale to be found of my children. I must confess that things were a bit overwhelming for me at that time, and I let out a quiet whine before turning my eyes up towards the ceiling. There were only two floors left before we reached the top of Dragonspiral Tower, and I was starting to grow anxious over just how high up it my children and this procession could have gone.

“Digon!”

Now children have a way of having their own priorities surface even during serious moments. And the youngster wilds were no exception back then. A turn of my head revealed the elder dragonlet was grasping a bauble from the ground and lifting it up, while his younger counterpart noticed it and grabbed at it. The pair growled, squabbling and wrestling with each other over their little treasure. Some old habits took over me at the sight, and I narrowed my eyes and stomped over to the pair with a sharp reprimand.

“Drud!”

I snatched the bauble out of their claws and drew a pair of yelps, before glaring down with a sharp growl. Chiding words demanding that they behave came out of my mouth before I caught myself and realized something was amiss:

The two had been born and raised in an abode of the gods. Surely they of all Pokémon would have been taught better than to just go around picking at its sacred stones willy-nilly.

“Gon! Druddigon!”

The younger dragonlet protested that they hadn’t been doing anything of the sort, and that they had found a treasure which had been brought in from outside. I glanced down at the bauble in my claws, and sure enough, I saw that I was holding a human coin. Pocket change of the sort that many humans don’t think anything of losing in a corner of their dens, but one which was new enough to still be polished and gleaming. Hardly a relic that would’ve been lying around the tower since ancient times.

Then what, I asked the dragonlets, was this little coin doing here?

The pair traded looks with one another before the younger motioned up towards the ceiling with a cheerful cry.

“Drud! Drud!”

The coin was probably a tribute and had most likely slipped the claws of one of their fellows who went before them, he explained. After all, the Lord of the Tower had returned to them some time ago, and he was due to come and visit today.

I froze afterwards, much as if a sudden winter chill had blown over me. When the pair had said the dragon would be coming ‘soon’, I’d held out hope that ‘soon’ would stretch out into another day. As their words sank in, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach as I turned and nervously asked them…

“Drud… digon?”

Just when today was the Lord of the Tower expected to arrive?

PREEEEAAH!

Almost as soon as I asked, a bellowing roar rang out and shook the tower in its presence. The dragonlets reflexively dropped onto all four claws and clung tight as dust and loose pebbles shook loose in the background. Calm returned shortly afterwards, but even so, I couldn’t help but stand there dumbly, with my mouth hanging open in fright.

I had heard that same roar before through the picture-box in the Does’ living room several years ago:

When the strange man with green hair spoke before all Unova alongside the Dragon of Vast White.

“G-Gon… Gon…”

There are few moments more sobering for a parent, few where one feels as helpless, as when one knows that one’s children are in danger while being unable to protect them. And knowing that my children were in a place where they did not know how to behave in the presence of a divine being that was said to have burned regions...

Well, it was hard to keep my head and wings raised afterwards. Much less to fight back growing tears of despair as I thought of what might happen to my children.

“Drud! Drud!”

I raised my head after the younger dragonlet let out a cry and saw that he’d made his way through the final turns of the maze. He was happily standing and waving at us from the base of a set of stairs headed upwards, with another human coin in his claws. His elder companion growled in protest and hurried off to try and contest him for ownership of it. That was when I noticed faint voices coming from further above, including ones who were much like those of the two youngsters with me.

“Druddigon!”

Something snapped inside me and I thrust the coin back into the elder drake’s claws before dragging him along, rushing over towards the younger as fast as my limbs and the maze’s path would let me. I didn’t bother to stop to explain things to them, as I all but dragged the two up the steps with a pair of yelps.

From the voices, I knew that my children were close by, and I would get them back and out of harm’s way.

Or die trying.

The next floor went by in a blur, which I suppose is only to be expected when one’s mind is wracked with fear for the life and limb of one’s children. The main chamber of the floor happening to have a relatively straightforward path didn’t hurt our pace either. Why, aside from a few glimpses of scars of battles past in the ruins, there wasn’t much to distract me or the youngsters until we made it over to the final flight of stairs.

“Gon?”

It was there that at long last, that we found the procession of wilds the Golurk told us about gathered along the steps. Sure enough, all the kinds of the tower’s Pokémon were represented amongst their ranks. Young and old, weak and strong, and with no shortage of Druddigon present, either.

“Druddigon!”

Including the guardian for the creche that the two younglings with me had wandered off from. She barreled down the steps, scampering along her claws as she hurriedly rushed over and tucked the pair under her arms. She looked down, giving worried whines to the two as she pleaded with them in her tongue to keep their absence between the three of them and to not tell their parents.

Part of me still wonders how long the other Druddigon had been serving her role as that creche’s guardian back then. She seemed a bit inexperienced and clumsy, and yet at the same time, with the way the youngsters squirmed and tried to avoid being seen with her, she’d clearly served long enough for her peers to form an opinion about her.

“Mienshao.”

Though that was when the Mienshao came. One of the elders of his kind, as he introduced himself. He started with a bit of smalltalk, telling me that I’d done well to make it so far. He assured me that my children were unharmed and had behaved themselves—or at least well enough—and that he understood that I was worried sick about them.

It was all well and good, but I couldn’t help but find myself staring at the Mienshao with my head held at a tilt that he eventually noticed and found strange.

“Mien?”

For whatever reason, he really did look eerily like my mentor back in the Does’ household. I don’t know whether or not that was from me having trouble telling Pokémon of other kinds apart, much as humans sometimes do, or if my mentor has a story of his own to tell about relatives of his he left behind back around Dragonspiral Tower. But I suppose that’s a story for him to tell himself some other time.

At that moment, I was just relieved that everything seemed to have resolved itself without incident, and thinking more about returning back to my mate and friends along with my children. I gave the Mienshao my thanks, and stepped forward with open claws to claim my children.

“Druddi! Druddi!”

Only for those thoughts to come to a swift end after my younger child cried out and went over to snatch something from a small treasure pile in the claws of one of the local Druddigon along with his elder brother.

“Lett!”

It went about as well as expected, as a pair of Golett stepped out, angrily barking at the pair to return the stolen bauble to their lord’s offerings. I hurried forward to try and set things right, only for my children to backpedal with low whines. They glanced over their shoulders and saw sunlight coming through a doorway, and at once charged through.

Into the same chamber with the shattered roof where the Dragon of Vast White had made his roost in bygone times.

“Druddigon!”

That was all that I needed to spur me forward into running after my children myself. The Golett hurried after them, with a few of their fellow wilds joining in, only for them all to abruptly stop at the doorway and refuse to venture a step further. They craned their heads out and in harsh tones, demanded my children come back at once and return their pilfered offering. Demands which the two answered with hisses and growls of protest.

“Gon! Gon!”

When I made it to the doorway, I at last saw what the cause of their dispute was. There, in my younger child’s claw, was one of the marbles he’d brought along that day as a toy. I couldn’t help but grimace a bit at some of the unamused glares and frowns the nearby wilds were giving me, and truthfully, I probably should’ve been more diligent about keeping my children’s treasures safely tucked away…

“Druddigon!”

But such considerations weren’t on my mind at the time. I hurried into the chamber, under the light of the sun as I stepped into a space with broken pillars and walls set beneath the remnants of an ancient roof that had been blown away from inside. I hurried over to my children and snatched them up, scolding them that they’d scared me half to death, and were most fortunate that the Pokémon that dwelled here wasn’t present to take offense to them charging into this place.

“Preeeeaah!”

A deafening roar rang out, from the same voice that I’d heard through the picture cube years ago. One that demanded to know who dared impose upon his den. Over at the doorway, the wilds at the threshold reflexively cringed and hurriedly made themselves scarce as they took shelter to its sides.

That was when it dawned on me that the chamber wasn’t anywhere near as empty as I had thought.

“Drud… digon?”

My children turned to look further down the chamber as the sound of heavy footsteps approached, and let out frightened squeals before they hurriedly hid behind me. My younger child let his marble slip from his grasp as he latched onto my wings for safety, and left it to roll off along the ancient tiles. I saw the marble drift away briefly, before I turned and followed my children’s eyes up and deeper into the chamber…

Where there was the Dragon of Vast White, approaching us with his blue eyes fixed down into a piercing scowl.

For a moment, I thought that that was the end. I crouched, throwing my body and wings in front of my children as a shield as I stood firm. Or at least as firm as one can in the presence of an incensed god. The dragon wasn’t particularly impressed, and bared his fangs with a snarl, demanding to know by what right we dared impose on a dragon’s den without even asking for entrance.

… I can see that skeptical look in your eye. And I suppose that beyond my and my children’s own words, I don’t have any hard proof of our encounter. But even so, everything in this story did indeed happen, and I remember the moment that came afterwards like it was yesterday: the moment when the dragon’s growls trailed off and his blue eyes drifted toward the ground with a curious murmur.

My eyes followed after his gaze, when I saw the Dragon of Vast White stare down at the marble on the floor. He blinked and stooped down to scoop it up into his claws, bringing it up to his eyes as he let out a content rumble. He mused aloud that it reminded him of his travels with one of his recent companions, a green-haired man who he had chosen as a hero. One who had introduced him to many strange and wonderful things that humans had, including marbles much like this one which the man would render as tribute to calm him whenever the two had a particularly sharp disagreement.

I must confess, it was a bit surprising to hear even Reshiram speak so fondly of treasures like the ones in my hoard. I suppose I had heard it said before that he and the other dragon that once lived there were like us in temperament, but I’d never imagined that it would carry over even to such petty pleasures.

The local wilds began to warily pop their heads out from around the corners of the doorway and emerge from their hiding places. Sensing that the dragon’s mood was in better spirits, I decided not to tempt fate any further. I spoke up and began to explain that my children and I hadn’t meant to impose upon his roost. That we were sorry for any impropriety or embarrassment we’d caused, and would quickly take our leave.

“G-Gon! Druddigon!”

My younger child burst out from behind me, raising his voice in protest that the marble was his treasure and that it couldn’t just be taken. I’ll admit that my heart skipped a beat after hearing my younger child raise his voice, as I quickly grabbed onto him and pulled him close with a harsh shush, my elder peeking warily from behind my wings as the Dragon of Vast White tilted his head at us with a guarded frown.

“Drud…”

I shuffled in front of my children and turned up my head, baring my throat with my wings pinned back and trembling. I spoke up as best as I could, explaining that I was deeply sorry if my children had caused him any offense. They were young and hadn’t been raised among his servants’ ranks, and because of my own shortcomings, they weren’t familiar with its ways.

Except, much to my surprise, the great dragon wasn’t upset, but puzzled. I’d clearly raised young who were fierce and determined, he told me. Ones who even at such a young age were willing to stand up for things as they rightfully were, even if they weren’t easy to defend.

With outstretched claw, the Lord of Truth pointed down with a skeptical frown and asked aloud in our tongue:

I was clearly from here. So then why was I not standing guard over his tower like the others present beyond the doorway?

I cast a glance back past my wings as scales brushed up against me, where my elder child was trying to hold back his little brother as he stared at the marble in Reshiram’s claws, letting his maw quiver with a low whine.

There was a moment of silence, before I gave the dragon my answer:

That it was because I had others away from Dragonspiral Tower who still needed me to stand guard over them.

There was a long silence, before the Dragon of Vast White stooped down, and rolled the marble along the ground towards my children. My younger child eagerly snatched it up, before shrinking back, looking up into the great dragon’s blue eyes as the ancient drake let out a rumbling chuckle.

He bore no grudge against us, he reassured. For he knew himself how much a treasure could mean to a dragon. He would overlook our transgression, so long as we saw we made sure to take better care of the treasures of our own in our lives.

I know that you obviously are a bit doubtful, and truthfully, I sometimes can’t believe that that encounter wasn’t all a dream. But that commision was my cue to shuffle my children along for the door. The pair of Golett from the procession of guardians entered afterwards along with a few of their fellows bearing their tributes, bowing and offering profuse apologies to their patron as we headed back out into the hall.

As we passed, a number of the wild Pokémon stared at us. Some in awe, others in envy, others telling us to thank our lucky stars that we hadn’t worn out the patience of their lord. Along the way, I saw the inexperienced guardian near the back of her creche, pawing at her shoulder and looking away with a downcast gaze.

Perhaps my sentimental side got the better of me, but I stopped for a moment as I passed her, and raised my voice with a determined growl.

‘Stand tall, brave and noble dragon’. I told her. She had defended my greatest treasures well and had my eternal thanks for it. Even if she’d made a few mistakes, I could already tell she’d been admirably defending her own little treasures all about her.

And that I was sure that she would grow to be a great guardian someday.

She batted her wings flusteredly for a moment, before we bid each other farewell. To her and the youngsters she watched over, all as the Mienshao elder and other faces in the crowd watched us leave from the stairs.

I can’t say that I’ve kept up to date with the workings of those Pokémon. But it hasn’t been that long since we saw each other. From what I saw of them, I’m sure that the tower and its forests are in good care these days under their watch.

The journey back down from the tower’s peak was mercifully less stressful than the climb up, if a bit longer than I’d expected. Part of that was because the entire way down, my children would stop to examine little relics and curiosities in and along the tower’s floors and walls. They’d fawn over them a bit and ask me what this or that relic was, while I would answer them and ply them with stories told to me when I was about their age. Ones told to me by my own parents and guardians about how my once-home came to be.

Though time has a way of flying by even at a lazy pace, and before we knew it, we were back on the floor with the spiral maze. We took our time retracing our steps there, carefully making our way back through scent trails and footprints in dust when I felt a tug at my wings.

“Gon?”

It was my elder child, who glanced up at the ceiling before he asked me in our tongue…

Would we meet the Dragon of Vast White again in the future?

He stared up longingly alongside his brother, and from the way they still speak of their encounter to their friends, I suppose it left quite an impression on them. I wasn’t sure how to answer them at the time, and paused for a moment, before I decided that it was best to be frank and not to avoid the truth:

That I didn’t have an answer to their question. Since when I had grown up around Dragonspiral Tower, the Dragon of Vast White had been in deep slumber for longer than anybody had been alive. What few stories I’d been told back then said that when he was awake, that even for the Pokémon that lived around his roost, just a passing encounter with him was already a rare treat.

Even if I don’t know how much of a treat it is to be in such a being’s presence if he's in a foul mood. Though I’ve heard from Pokémon that live about Dragonspiral Tower that since reawakening and returning, he’s been a bit more temperate than they expected.

But those latter details were ones that I opted to wait on telling my children until they were older, and they let out quiet whines of disappointment as we made our way deeper into the maze. As we passed along its inner ring, my ears pricked up at the sound of footsteps and familiar scents, when suddenly a loud cry filled the chamber.

“Haxorus!”

It was my mate, who bounded around the corner and swept me up in an embrace. He fought back tears and let out a choking whine to not frighten him the way I had. I nosed at his chest with a low growl, as our children sidled up against his armored scales. We had but a brief moment together before when our companions caught up with him, with John and Carol leading the head of the group.

“There you are!” John snapped. “Neela, don’t run off on us like that!”

“Yeah, you had us worried sick back!” Carol cried. “Just because you used to live here doesn’t mean that it’s a good idea for you to also wander off from us!”

There was a moment of silence between us all as I realized that while the Does were clearly upset with me, their frustration seemed to be one borne of worry. After all, they themselves had braved the sign warning of danger to follow us all the way up here, and had surely feared the entire time that the worst had happened to us. I lowered my head in front of them, before nudging my children back along. My elder child could barely contain his excitement as he darted over to Noel as his trainer pawed at him with a worried stare.

“Are you okay, Rufus?” he asked. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

He answered Noel with outstretched wings and a cheerful nose with his snout, while my younger child darted out and went back to James and his Servine. He eagerly went on and on with his story about how he met the legendary dragon of the tower, and I couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at their reactions. Both at the Servine’s incredulity of how impossible everything sounded, along with James’ befuddled reaction.

“Neela...”

A reaction that was hard to keep up after I heard Jane approaching, with my Pokéball in hand and her face curled down into a sharp frown. I stiffened up and pinned my wings back, and braced myself for the expected earful from her.

“I’m happy that you managed to exchange those Druddigon for Rufus and Rudd, but what on earth were you thinking?!” she huffed. “You should’ve let us help! Honestly, I’d have expected Rufus and Rudd to sneak off like this, but you ought to know better!”

I pawed at my shoulder before letting out an apologetic growl. Jane paused briefly, before shaking her head and folding her arms with a sharp scoff.

“What on earth was further up the tower that made you all act like this, anyways?”

Life has a funny way of timing things sometimes, since right as I opened my mouth to explain myself, a bellowing roar rang out. Loud and strong enough to shake the tower underfoot again. My teammates flinched briefly, while my mate… let out a cry of his own that was an octave or two higher than I’d remembered him letting out for some years.

Except I and my children didn’t budge… well, aside from shielding our ears. After all, we knew what that roar was, and as a shock of white that went by the windows, it dawned to me that it was a cry of triumph.
“Druddigon!”

My elder child got a bit swept up in the moment, as he eagerly pointed at the windows, calling out goodbyes to a figure that we briefly glimpsed pulling up over the trees and slipping away into the clouds. My mate pulled me close with a low whine, worriedly asking what on earth the creature was and if we were safe.

My children were quick to hurry over to tell him it was the Dragon of Vast White and tell him tales of their encounter with him. The explanation took the Haxorus aback, and even our other teammates couldn’t help but stare in disbelief. I’m not sure how well the humans with us were able to see things for themselves—especially since human eyes can be a bit weak in dim light—but even so, Carol’s brother seemed to put things together well enough, as he stared at the Does with an expression of blank awe.

“It’s that roar again…” the Verne boy murmured. “Was… that the dragon that used to rest here?”

There was a brief moment of incredulity among the Doe siblings, before James went up and pawed at my younger child, staring down at him with blinking surprise.

“Rudd? Did… you all actually see the dragon up there?”

The little drake excitedly fanned his wings out, going on and on about how he indeed had met the dragon, who was fierce and scary, but still nice in spite of it all. Which… with the way we Pokémon’s tongues are to humans, naturally went completely over his trainer’s head.

The others puzzled among themselves over what my child’s response meant. Even if I’m not sure if they would’ve believed us even if they had understood our words. John’s Scolipede and Stoutland certainly weren’t convinced of my children’s claims at the time in spite of their protests. I couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at it all, before I carried off along for the steps and motioned for the others to follow.

“Druddigon!”

After all, we were all still in a place that we weren’t supposed to be. Even if we had the resident Pokémon’s blessing to be there, it wouldn’t do any good to worry those Rangers Carol called… or their parents for that matter. There was a brief moment of hesitation, before Jane’s Marowak pawed at her trainer’s side and motioned after me, leaving her trainer to sigh and shake her head.

“I’m not sure if they understood the question or not, James. And I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure,” Jane said. “But whatever happened between them up there, I think we’ve all had enough excitement for one day. Let’s go home.”

Everyone began to make their way down the stairs after that, with James and Noel keeping a close watch over my children to make sure they wouldn’t sneak off yet again as we made our way back out of the tower. As we climbed down the ancient flight of stairs, we chanced to pass by a window, where I stopped and let my eyes drift outside.

There was a view there of the surrounding moat and forests, with Icirrus City and its windmills poking up at the base of hills in the distance. I’ll admit, for a moment, I got a bit lost in the scenery. Since even when I lived around the Dragonspiral Tower, I’d never had a chance to look down on the world like that.

Perhaps it’s part of the reason why Druddigon and their companions continue to dwell in the tower and its surroundings to this day. Since I’ll admit, for a moment, I wondered whether or not it really was the place where I ultimately belonged.

“H-Hax?”

My mate’s voice snapped me back to attention as I saw him coming up the steps and asking me if something was wrong. His head and tail were tucked in close to his body as he nervously glanced around his surroundings, still on edge from the earlier roar.

Those thoughts faded for a bit, as I beckoned my mate to come near. I insisted that everything was fine and that I was just taking in the view.

“... Xor?”

He wasn’t sure of what to make of my reply at first, when he came up and saw things for himself, and stood there in awe of the surroundings. While we’ve grown a few years since those days when we first looked out over Icirrus City together, just being there together reminded me of them and the times when we first met.

And it was a reminder that whatever the future ultimately held, that for now, I still had a calling away from this place.

“Gon!”

“Neela! Come on! I thought you wanted to leave!”

My younger child and his trainer’s voices reminded us that we still had a ways to go to depart Dragonspiral Tower. My mate and I turned to take our leave afterwards, if with a brief moment to stop and nuzzle him first. And to thank him for being there with me.

I still haven’t decided whether or not I’ll go back to that tower one day to help the Pokémon there stand guard over it and its treasures again. Some of them might welcome the experience that I’ve picked up to add to back their ranks. While others might think that I’ve been apart from their ways for too long to be effective as a fellow guardian.

But there will be time for me to make up my mind one way or another about it. For now, I have my own treasures away from there to stand guard over. Ones in and around the little houses on the outskirts of Icirrus City that I and my friends call home.

Where to this day, I proudly stand guard over a pair of Dragonspiral’s children.

EVERYONE: Dragonspiral's Children (redux)

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Legio nomen mihi est, quia multi sumus.

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