Morgan sat Tristan up after he had just collapsed after their encounter with Cyrus and his men. The sword Pokémon hovered frantically above him. Pan, who was just as shaken, was prodding at Tristan’s cheek, hoping it would wake him.

  She had opted to wait for him to wake up. Carrying him back to Twinleaf would be difficult, accounting for the long trek back, and the wild Pokémon that would undoubtedly prey on them. Also, Tristan was heavy. And trying to explain to his parents on why he was unconscious, without revealing what had happened, would be even harder. She didn’t want to face how they would react.

  But that begged the question. Would his parents even believe them if they had revealed the truth? That they’d gone to a secret place, and weirdly dressed men had come and nearly killed them. It sounded ridiculous, even to her. And, how would they even explain the floating sword? And the fact that Tristan’s right arm was as pale as snow, from hand to elbow? It was all too much, and too strange. Morgan tossed those questions to the back of her mind.

  For now, she crouched beside Tristan’s unconscious form, gently brushing a few strands of brown hair away from his closed eyes.

  ‘Shing’ The sword cried anxiously. She felt its worry for the boy beside her. Pan rubbed a small comforting paw on her lap. She smiled a tired, sad smile. Her little, soft caresses were doing wonders for her trainer.

  ‘Panpour.’ Her partner voiced out with a hint of concern. “I know, Pan. All we can do is wait.” She responds. Morgan didn’t know what Pan had said exactly, but she had learned her partner’s tells growing up.

  She had met Pan when she was just five years old. Her father had brought home the tiny, sleeping water monkey, after he had rescued her from a pack of wild Poochyena. It was love at first sight. Ever since Pan had woken up and looked at Morgan, they were inseparable. She had no other friends, because of her shy, timid nature, and often she would feel left behind by the other kids around her.

  Her father had helped her with everything she knew about being a trainer, he was a jolly man, and would often put his family first, although his line of work kept him away for long periods at a time, being a Pokémon Ranger, he was a treasure trove of knowledge, and he passed on many stories, and his experiences to his daughter. And she soaked it all up, before…

  On her last year of Trainer School, an incident at Mount Coronet that involved a freakishly strong, wild ground type Pokémon had caused part of a large chasm to collapse. Morgan’s father, Harvey Drury, had heroically jumped in to save as many fellow rangers, and Pokémon, They didn’t find the body underneath all the debris and rubble.

  At just fifteen years old, she was left behind by the man she loved most. Her only lifelines were her mother, who was just as devastated, and Pan, the Pokémon her father entrusted to her.

  After a month of grieving, Morgan had returned to Trainer School. As she walked the hall, she heard the whispers from her fellow students, even as she sat down, she could hear them pitying her. It was overwhelming, all she wanted to do was run home. Until a brown haired boy, with striking hazel eyes, sat down next to her. “You don’t have to listen to them. You’re much stronger than they are.”

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  It was their first interaction in the five years they were in Trainer School. The normally recluse genius, Tristan Bey, had given her words of encouragement. Words that she would take to heart, until today. That was a big part of the reason she had sought him out. But after today’s events, an agonizing question began to eat at her psyche.

  ‘Would Tristan even consider her a friend?’ Morgan had nearly led them to their deaths, if not for the act of mercy from Cyrus, they would undoubtedly be dead. He had opened up about his greatest fear, and that nearly happened. It was all her fault. He’d leave her behind.

  “Morgan.” Tristan’s hoarse voice called out. He was awake. She had been crying. Even in his exhausted state, he had jumped up to wrap Morgan in the most comforting hug he can muster. “You’re alright! I’m so relieved.” She cried harder, and Tristan waited until she had calmed down.

  ‘Pour~.’ Pan leapt to his chest and hugging him tightly. The sword hovered closely in front of them, letting out a long drawn-out ‘Shwing.’ like it was sighing in relief.

  “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” Morgan whispered. “It’s all my fault.” She kept apologizing, repeating her words like a mantra through her tears, leaving wet streaks on Tristan’s already dirt and sweat stained shirt.

  Tristan whispers back. “It’s not your fault.” as he gently rubbed her back to calm her. “We’re all alright.” softly reassuring her, as she slowly settles down.

  “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.” Tristan hadn’t known this, but those simple words had been enough to wash away all of Morgan’s worries. She visibly relaxed, though she was still crying, her tears had significantly lessened.

  After a short while, they exited the grotto, their appearance disheveled, the weight of the previous events still hanging heavy in the air. Clearly having cried her heart out, Morgan’s face was streaked with tear stains, despite it all, she wore a small smile. “Should we tell your parents… or my mom, ‘bout those men?” She asked a bit hesitantly.

  Tristan gave it a thought for a brief moment. “I don’t think we should.” Morgan wanted to protest, but he stopped her. “It might sound like a lot of Farfetch’d, but I don’t want to worry them. This might cause them to panic.” He explained. “It’d be better to take this up with League Official Police. I’ll go with you to their Sandgem HQ. We’re in this together now.”

  Morgan nods, her expression softening as she took in his words. “Right.” She thought about it more. “Mom’ll prolly bar me from venturin’ if she found out.” She let out a resigned sigh.

  Tristan chuckles and pats her on the back. “Well, at least we got that figured out. Looks like I’m going on a journey after all.”

  Morgan chuckles softly. “How’rya gonna explain mister sword here.” She points at the floating scarlet sword Pokémon with a playful smirk. Just as she spoke, the sword cries out a playful ‘Swing.’ Tristan shrugs.

  “I’ll think of something.” Morgan rolls her eyes playfully. “We need a plan, but it’s a little too late to strategize.” He says, looking up at the starry night as they began to walk back to Twinleaf, their Pokémon following along. He stayed by her side all the way to the road near her home.

  “Meet me at the tree you were at this afternoon?” She asks, before they parted ways.

  “Looking forward to it, Morgan.” Tristan replies with a smile. He waved as he walked off, being closely followed by his new sword friend.

  ‘Looking forward to it too, Tristan.’ Morgan quietly thinks to herself as she walks home.