The Illusion

Merchant Tent, evening.

Ruins. Everything seemed to be in ruins. The Merchants' guild wasn't even a shadow of its former glory; it once stood tall upon Tao Village with the Kecleon-eye windows keeping a close vigil on each and every building. But now? Shattered glass was spread across the grounds even still. The Kecleon eye windows were blinded by the darkness of the blizzard, its cores broken into hundreds of pieces. Holes were dappled across the buildings—rips and tears spread like Poffin butter on the once glorious tent. Shreds of cloth were spread about the floor like garbage, damp from the still, humid air.

If one looked up from inside the tent, they could see the blue-grey sky staring right back at them, blanketed with thick grey clouds and patches of darkness here and there. The air was as thick and heavy as the clouds, a harbinger of the coming rain. And yet, one Pokémon still plopped through the mess that was the Merchants' tent, wandering around, picking up the pieces of cloth as she walked about. The sharp-eyed Kecleon kept alert in the silent air, trying to clean up the rest of the tent while she could. Shards of porcelain teacups scattered about the wooden floors—each one was a reminder to her of something, someone long gone.

She hadn't slept much the past few days, and sharp pains were beginning to push at the backs of her usually agile eyes. It came on as a headache, but worsened as it spread to her vision; there was no way she would stop, though. Not now, not for a very long time. Not until everything was fixed and back to normal.

The Kecleon sat at the old wooden table, placing there a map of what would be the new and improved Tao Village. As she sat at her chair, she eyed the glory that the village would soon become, her tail curling with excitement, her black scales taking on a sheen of silver. Her lips curled into a smile when she took a pencil from the side of the table, scribbling here and there, adding another building here or some more improvements to another place there. It would be a spectacle, Tao village would. It would become even more famed than Alomomola City, even more structured than Steel City…It would be perfect.

She muttered to herself every now and then certain thoughts while she scribbled some notes down on her new map. It could always be better, she thought; something could always be better. She would cross things out if they weren't perfect, grumble a bit and move on. It was a daily pattern, this habit of editing the map and making it perfect. She would prove it to them—no, prove it to him—that nothing would stop her. Nothing in the entire world would keep the village—her village--from becoming what she designed it to be.

Her work was continuous as usual. She made sure she was in a spot away from the rain, away from the dark skies of grey that reminded her of the friends she had lost, the mistakes she had made. Her quiet work continued as she scribbled away, that is, until a Miltank crept in through the main curtain of the tent, his eyes filled with worry. He slowly made his way up to the table, careful not to make any sudden sounds or movements—he knew it would set off her temper. He didn't have a need to, however, for she spoke up first, surprising him.

"I've been hearing things…seeing things," the Kecleon said simply. She returned to her work right after muttering that single thought, erasing something as she did. The Miltank was at a loss for words after the thought, trying to keep a strong face for his comrade.

"PK, um..." The Miltank tried to mutter, "Why don't you…I don't know, take a break? Just for a little. It doesn't have to be long, you just…you've been working quite a while." He stood next to PK expectantly, waiting for some kind of short-tempered answer. But that answer never did come. In fact, it was another answer. One that…wasn't quite like her.

"Fine. I need to go…sort things out, anyway," she began, turning her gaze from the map to the Miltank, "Take the map with you, Malt. I don't feel like carrying it." Pushing herself away from the table, she jumped right out of the chair with an agile pep in her step, as if something unknown and ominous was pushing at her to keep moving. Some force in her legs told her to keep on moving, even if she wanted to perfect the almost-perfect design of the village.

---

"Where are you going?" Malt asked; concern spread over his face like a wave over Alomomola Bay, like the ones the Kecleon had seen often in her childhood. It took her a while to create some kind of excuse, to say something in return. But in the end, she told the truth. Even though it would sound crazy to her new co-leader, she would tell the truth and not regret it.

"Back to Creeping Forest for a bit," the black Kecleon said as if nothing were wrong, "I can hear him there—they're both there." Malt was taken aback by PK's words, did a double take, even—who was she talking about? Why so suddenly? As if by impulse, Malt began to follow the footsteps of the fellow normal-type, taking in the rainy air and watching for any leftover pieces of porcelain.

"Don't follow me," PK turned her head and spoke simply, her usually piercing eyes sharper than knives, "You'll just…I don't even know. Just don't come. I don't want you there." The shock in the Miltank's eyes was unmistakable. His brow was raised in surprise, and his mouth gaped open. But no words came out. He had nothing to say to her simple words that pierced sharper than her very eyes. But he watched her go. She furthered her distance away from the Miltank and left, leaving the tent cloth waving in the rainy evening winds as she left.

He knew he shouldn't follow. He knew he would get in trouble if he did. But something tugged at his will. A familiar voice from nowhere seemed to be beckoning him to follow—"Go," it said, "Find her and save her." But save her from what? He knew nothing of saving anyone. Whatever it was, it strengthened his resolve to go, and follow he did. Malt tiptoed over the broken cloth and porcelain, over the puddles from the leaks in the tent, and into the damp air of the night. A light drizzle laced the air with heaviness, and the dark blue evening sky helped little in making the scene of Tao Village look as comfortable as it did on the blueprint map he held in his hand. Malt's range of sight grew smaller and smaller as the evening wore on; he looked in all directions to see a trace of PK.

But all he saw were a team of Rescuers in the Town Square, talking and enjoying themselves despite the evening rain. He could tell quickly their guild affiliation simply by the way they stood. Proud and tall, seemingly arrogant, almost. The leader, a rather oblivious-looking Ninetales with a lilac ribbon on the back of her neck, seemed to be laughing at her partner, a Turtwig clad in a light blue scarf with a meek little expression on his face. Following them was a fancy-looking Audino, seeming a bit out-of-place in following the two unruly-looking Pokémon. And yet, he figured, the three seemed to be the only hope of finding PK's whereabouts. He hated asking for the assistance of Rescuers, but it mattered little who he asked; if it would help find his fellow merchant, than that was really all he cared about. He called out to the three Pokémon and took a rather quick walk up to them at the square—as soon as he made his way close enough, he realized that the faces of the Ninetales and Turtwig were vaguely familiar—they must have helped evacuate the ranch in the blizzard. They couldn't be that terrible, Malt assumed, if they did that much as Rescuers. Their eyes met quickly and precisely, and it was Malt who was first to speak:

"Pardon me, Rescuers, but I'm looking for someone…You probably know her or have seen her around or something…PK. You know…the merchant guild leader, right? Usually she's purple, but her color's been rather…dark, recently…" Malt asked, trying to describe her in the best way possible. He wasn't sure how familiar the Rescuers would be with another guild's leader, but he tried his best.

"Ooh, you knew we were Rescuers, Cap'n Malt?" the Ninetales gave a blunt smile, making Malt unsure as to how she remembered his name, "How cool! D'you think you can guess my birthday, too?" Malt's smile went from polite to uncomfortable as he shifted his gaze away from the persistent fire-type, her curious eyes gazing straight into the Miltank's.

"I, um…no," Malt's brow furrowed, "That was just a lucky guess…I'm looking for--"

"Miss PK, you said?" the Turtwig interrupted, his head tilted a bit, "I think I did see her somewhere…She went towards Creeping Forest, but I'm not exactly sure which way she went…I wasn't facing her direction when she left…I-I'm sorry, Mr. Malt."

"No, it's quite all right…" Malt put his hooves up as a sign of it being all right, but his gaze turned towards the Audino with the red lace ribbon tired around her ear…she had said nothing the entire time he was there…he figured it wouldn't hurt to ask as he added, "What about you? Did you see her?"

"O-oh, goodness! Me?" asked the Audino, pointing at herself. She nervously shifted her gaze to the right of Malt, visibly nervous from simply being addressed, "I did see someone matching the description…"

"Did you see which way she went, Felicity?" asked the Ninetales, giving an expectant, blasé smile, "I bet you did!" The Miltank's heart rate rose a bit as the Audino nervously tried to think over what she'd seen before Malt encountered them. It took her a few moments to recollect, but when she did, Malt's heart skipped a beat with anxiety.

"Um, well…I believe I did," the fellow normal-type nodded lightly, pointing in one direction, "It couldn't have been too long ago, in fact…I think when she went towards Creeping Forest, it was to the west…I kind of saw her venture into where the sunset is, even though you can't really see much of it in this weather…It was like one of those endings to picture books you read when you're little…something like that."

Strange comments aside, the Miltank had his answer. He bowed to the three Pokémon as if to thank them, even though only one had given him his answer. Being polite was always important, though, no matter what business it was—he always kept that advice to heart, even though the one who said that very phrase hurt his heart to think about. He gave one last polite thank you and left the trio of Rescuers, who continued their nonchalant japery.

---