Eevee Therapy for Little Magi Chapter 40: A Quiet Day on the Road

Isabella looked up from her phone, peering over at the rest of her group as they started breaking down camp. “Hey, everyone. I just heard from Donovan. The Pearl clan’s given up on tailing you two, so he’s just going to be doing his own thing and checking in on occasion.”

Fafnir looked up from where she was carefully folding the latrine into the ground. “Who’s Donovan?” She rumbled, puzzled.

“Isabella was supposed to have a counterpart, a Pearl Clan boy named Donovan who was keeping ‘space’ with us,” Illya explained offhand. “I haven’t seen him in weeks.”

“Yeah, turns out he lost us for a while during our detour around Coronet, and then only found out about where we’d ended up via social media.” Isabella chuckled. “That, and since you’ve done nothing wrong, Pearl’s leader has decided to just… let him take a Journey.” She shrugged. “We’ll see him again, he’s a responsible sort. But we’re not his mission anymore.”

Folding up the last of their cooking gear into his backpack, Shirou slung it over his shoulder. “Good. He won’t be peeking in on Illya’s showers anymore.”

“That was only once. And it was an accident. I checked.” Illya’s eyes flared pink before they subsided. “Still was awkward.”

Shirou nodded, turning to lead the group out of the glade they’d set up in and back onto the path south. He leaned back, basking in the sunshine. “Hey, Illya? You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, but how have things been going with Mesprit?” He gently asked as they made their way down the road.

“It’s been okay. I’d rather not talk about it beyond that, though,” she responded immediately, shaking her head. “I’m still coming to terms with things and I’ll share when I’m good and ready, if ever.”

Shirou simply nodded in response as the group continued down the road, their Pokemon walking beside them. For a few minutes there was nothing but silence as the group trundled down the rolling hills, but as they crested one small plateau they found a man waiting for them. The older gentleman smiled to see them, rising from the small bench beside the path. “I thought I’d seen a group of youngsters heading this way. How do you do?”

Shoving down the instinctive response to be wary of the man - they were in a far kinder world now - Illya bowed politely towards him. “Well, thank you sir. What brings you out here?”

“Well… it’s not common practice anymore, but it used to be that when two trainers' eyes met, a battle was inevitable,” the man chuckled, revealing a trio of Pokeballs on his belt. “Would any of you be willing to give me a battle today? I’m happy with two on two, one on one, or a double battle.”

“Of course,” Illya nodded, offering her hand for the man to shake. “Illyasviel von Einzbern. Does two on two work for you?”

“Shiro Takeshi. I will forgo any prize money should I win,” he said with a smile, taking her own. “Challenging up and comers is its own reward.” He walked over to the other edge of the hilltop, while Illya returned her own team and moved over to the other side. The gentleman plucked two balls from his belt. “Who will ref? We have enough people for it.”

“Isabelle?” Shirou asked, turning towards their mutual friend. “I think you’d be best. You’re the least biased of us.”

“Sure.” The Diamond clanswoman walked over to the edge of the natural space, raising her arm. “Send out your teammates on my mark.” She waved down. “Mark!”

Illya’s arm whipped forward, Milotic swimming into existence a few feet in front of her, and a few yards away from a bulky, scarred Machoke, who slammed one fist into a cupped palm with a smile. Takeshi pointed forward. “Mach Punch, close the distance!”

“Aqua Tail!” Illya barked, throwing her hand out as she issued the command. “Take the hit and brawl with that Machoke!”

The man’s eyebrows shot up as Machoke got in close, only to meet a strong blow in counter. The two figures began to brawl, water rising to allow Milotic to flow across the battlefield and duel with her opponent. “Ha! Unexpected! But I hope you have more answers than just the brawl. Thunderpunch, Machoke! Put her down!” The scarred brawler slid back after an exchange, lighting gathering around a clenched fist as he laid in with a vicious hook.

“Evade and use Wrap.” Illya commanded, and Milotic obeyed, weaving around the blow with serpentine grace before wrapping her foe in her coils. “Dragon Pulse!” Opening her jaw, she blasted the immobilized Machoke with dragonfire, the fighting type trying to seize the eel with both hands, and having minimal success. Finally, he managed to force her to let go by slamming himself into the ground, the chokeslam forcing her to disengage unless she’d be suffocated.

Takeshi sighed as he watched his partner straighten, breathing heavily but not yet downed. “He’s more of a boxer than a wrestler. That was a good call.” He snapped a hand forward. “Brace and get ready to hit back!”

“Swap to ranged, Milotic, Bubble Beam!” Illya called, not about to pass up an advantage when it was offered. Milotic opened her mouth, the sudsy blast smacking into the braced Machoke, causing Takeshi to huff.

“So that’s Counter out…” Watching his partner take another hit, he finally lowered one arm in a chop. “Alright, all or nothing. Mach punch into Reversal, try to even the score!” Machoke grunted, then darted in, his fist landing, before all of his scars began to glow with a furious red light.

“Aqua Tail,” Illya ordered simply. “Don’t let him get that Reversal off!”  Milotic lashed out, her tail smashing her opponent into unconsciousness, but her timing was not quite on par, the length of her tail forcing her to give a windup to land the blow. The furious overhand chop smashed into her, sending her reeling even as her opponent landed on his back and failed to rise. Aching slightly, she came upright, the Aqua Ring around her soothing her wounds somewhat as the fighting type vanished into red light.

Takeshi sighed. “That was almost a lock-out. Your partner knows her stuff.” He flicked his wrist, a Chatot flashing into existence before him. “I do believe I’m going to lose this match, but we won’t go down without a fight.”

“I look forward to it!” Illya answered with a massive grin on her face, one reflected by Milotic’s cheerful cry. This, this was what she lived for. The thrill of overcoming an opponent with strategy and the fruits of your training, alongside your partners. She hadn’t fully decided to fully commit to battling yet, but this? This was just even more evidence to add onto the mountain she already had that she well and truly had fallen in love with battling.

The man across from her chuckled. “So good to see enthusiasm– I suppose there’s no holding back! Hyper Voice, as loud as you can get it!” He called out, gesturing forward.

“Chat-Let’s Make Some NOISE!” The bird squawked, the amplified vocalization blasting across the short arena, kicking up dust. Assessing that Milotic could probably take exactly one of those before she was out of the fight, Illya immediately made her call.

“Mirror Coat!”

Immediately, Milotic glowed pale blue, storing the ‘damage’ she’d taken from the Hyper Voice, before reflecting it back twofold. The shattering barrier tore into Chatot, sending the bird tumbling to the ground, nearly spent– and then Milotic was on her, ramming her tail into her opponent with a decisive smack.

Takeshi laughed loudly as he recalled his second partner. “Hahaha! Coming for Cynthia’s title, Ms. Einzbern? Very well done!” he called, crossing the space with a smile. “Ah, I do owe you a prize…”

“We said that we weren’t bidding, didn’t we?” Illya shook her head, “It’d be dishonorable to demand a prize when you stated you didn’t wish to battle for one.”

“Young lady, I told you I do this to support new trainers.” Takeshi replied, clicking his tongue. He rummaged through his jacket and pulled out a full restore, offering it to her. “Consider this a gift, then.”

“In that case,” Illya accepted the rather expensive item, carefully placing it in her bag, “I accept. Thank you, Mr. Takeshi.”

“Thank you for the magnificent match!” The gentleman chuckled. “You know, between the three of you, you seem to have a lot of very rare Pokemon. I’m sure you could get a reaction out of Mr. Backlot if you were to go see him.” He pointed down the hill, and the group could see a large mansion fronting a massive garden in the near distance. “He’s a bit of a blowhard, but the man is generous with his time, and he does love to see rare Pokemon. If you wanted to get a free meal, and maybe rooms for the night, he’d likely be happy to host you. Though you may have to listen to his ramblings.” Takeshi shrugged and dusted off his coat.

Illya considered that for a moment, moving over to Milotic to apply some much needed love and some medicine (though not the full restore) to some of her injuries, “We’ll definitely keep that in mind, Mr. Takeshi, but that’s something we’ll need to discuss as a group. Is there anything else we can do for you?”

“Nothing really. I think I need to go take Balrog and Jessica to get patched up. I’ll be keeping an eye out for you in the conference next year!” He gave a wave, heading over to the bench to scoop up his hat. “Good luck to all three of you.”

“Thank you, Takeshi-san,” Shirou responded as the man trundled off down the hill. “...did he remind you of the old man? They have similar vibes, if dad was twenty years older.”

“I can see it,” Illya hummed, tilting her head to the side. “The papa of today is a lot happier than he was, back from my memories of when I was younger. Not by much, but he seems a lot less… lost.”

Isabella nodded as she hoisted her bag back onto her back. “Having a Ralts-line around always helps people, best I can tell. Not as good as a ghost type for depression, but…” She shrugged. “So, are we going to go to the mansion, or just keep moving? We could probably make it a lot further than there if we kept walking, but I’m all for a night with hot showers before we hit the Mirelands.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Shirou considered, holding up a hand as he thought of something. “Actually, let me check our status on supplies. It might be a better idea than I thought, if it comes with a free meal.”

“Are we running out of food?” Illya asked, to which Shirou immediately shook his head. “Ah, did we use up those perishables then?”

“Yes. We used them all up today since you realized they were going to go bad if we didn’t. Good catch, by the way. I figured you’d both appreciate another hot meal that isn’t, well, nonperishables made as tasteful as I can make them,” he replied immediately, giving Illya a high-five.

“So canned stuff all the way to Pastoria?” Isabella huffed. “There are some small communities down this way, and I think we can forage…”

“But that’ll slow us down.” Shirou sighted on the mansion. “Yeah, let’s head there tonight, and see if they know of any place we could resupply before the next leg.” 

Half an hour of walking later, the group approached the mansion as the sun began to set in the sky, the shadows just starting to lengthen. At the gate, a young lady with a familiar face but an unfamiliar uniform was slouched against the wall, watching their approach. The Jenny stood up, holding up a hand. “Hello there! I’m guessing you three are trainers on your journey, but I do need to confirm that.”

“We are.” Shirou nodded firmly, Illya echoing him moments later, “May I ask why, Officer?” The only male human of the group continued, curious.

Jenny looked to one side, an Absol emerging from behind the gatepost with a happy nod. “Just checking. There’s been a few times we’ve had trainers break in to raid the Trophy Garden. No one the staff couldn’t deal with, but there are always idiots trying to get rare Pokemon.” She looked across the spread in front of her, a wry smile crossing her face as Absol took a seat beside her. “Granted, I think you might have most trainers beat. Here to spend the night? I think Backlot will love having a chance to meet a Riolu, and having some inspiration might help his Feebas bed.”

“... Feebas bed?” Illya asked, tiling her head to the side as she tried to imagine exactly what that could mean, before a spark lit in her eyes, “A flowerbed based on Feebas?”

Isabella coughed. “Um, a group of Feebas is called a ‘bed’,” she explained quietly.

The Jenny laughed. “That too, but there is a flowerbed surrounding their pond, with Feebas and Milotic imagery. Mr. Backlot has been helping them, but even though a few have evolved, he’s not had a good success rate,” she explained, even as she tapped on a communicator. After a few moments, the gate swung open. “Anyway, head on in. Don’t catch any Pokemon unless they challenge you, don’t tear up the lawn, and don’t damage the mansion. Other than that, please enjoy your stay at the Pokemon Mansion,” she rattled off.

“Of course,” Shirou replied, leading the group into the outer garden. The manicured lawns were interspersed with deep pools of water, hedges bordering tall grasses, and even some small groves of trees and artfully placed stone features. And wandering through, around, and atop all the landscaping were Pokemon. Mostly more common species, but interspersed between the Kricketot, Pikachu, and Roselia were a few scampering Eevee, a group of Mime Juniors imitating one of their evolved kin, and even a Happiny pack darting around a harried Audino matron.

“Okay, yeah. I can see why they need a guard or two around here,” Isabella remarked, peering into a long pond to see a group of pale-striped Basculin peering back at her, before darting back into the reeds. “I’m guessing he has more security than just the one girl, though having an Absol at her side probably helps a lot.”

“More than likely. Especially since Officer Jenny is a police officer,” Illya acknowledged, humming as she watched the Pokemon go about their daily lives. “I’d imagine this is also a league sanctioned reserve, considering she’s here.”

“It is indeed!” The group looked over to see an older, well-dressed man flanked by a maid and a man in a gardener’s uniform emerge from between two hedges. “Welcome to the Pokemon Mansion, children!” Once he got close, he knelt to offer one hand to Yagi. “And hello there to you all, as well! I’ve never seen some of these Pokemon, and it’s always a pleasure to welcome a Riolu to the mansion.”

“Greetings! It’s nice to meet you, good sir.” Yagi stated, accepting the hand of the well-dressed man, “Your home is very well kept, worthy of Lucario and Riolu, I’m surprised none of my kin have settled down here.”

“I will admit to having tried, but we don’t typically have much in the way of training space, and we try to keep the grounds calm for all the baby Pokemon who live here. There has been an order recently which considered moving one of their outposts here, but so far, there are other places in need of protection.” He laughed as he stood. “Ah, but I understand that.” He looked over at Ritsuka. “You, though… you I do not understand. Obviously an Eeveelution, but I’ve not seen a dragon before.”

“I’m new. Much like Mana. If you aren’t familiar with her, she’s a Normal Type evolution. Eevee apparently are capable of evolving more than the standard eight, though the rest are rarer or undiscovered.” Ritsuka shrugged, recalling the Ghost Type Eeveelution that had stuck to Elle’s side like glue throughout the time she had spent with them. It had not been hard to figure out that the Ghost was classified, especially one Haboo had explained the method of evolution.

“I have heard of the multitudes Eevee could become, but I’ve not seen one before.” Mr. Backlot said gaily. He then clapped his hands excitedly. “Oh, and you can speak as well! Marvelously done, is that normal– no, you wouldn’t know, would you?” As he applauded the little fox-dragon’s skill, a skulk of Eevee gathered, many looking at Ritsuka with starry eyes.

“Hey!” One kit, a bit rougher of fur than the rest, tumbled forward and skidded to a halt in front of Ritsuka. “Can I be a dragon?”

“I mean, yes?” Ritsuka huffed, “Clearly, I am standing before you as a living example.” The she-fox continued, rolling her eyes.

“Cool! How?” The Eevee asked, bouncing back and forth on his feet.

“I have absolutely no idea.” Ritsuka chirped, patting the Eevee on the head, “More seriously, we have a few theories. Try to learn a dragon type move and then bond with someone really closely. Professor Rowan is almost certain that’s the natural evolution condition.”

One of the older Eevee in the group got a grumpy frown. “Do we even learn any dragon moves? I don’t know any…”

The ruffle-furred Eevee chirped angrily. “Quitter talk! Hey, dragon-vee, what’s the first dragon move you learned?”

As the Eevee clustered around Ritsuka, and to a lesser extent, her sister, the humans made their way a little ways off to a small pavilion. “Well, of course you are welcome to stay the night; Monica, please inform the rest of the staff to make up three beds.” He paused. “Ah, unless any of your teams would like their own rooms? Unusual, but some Pokemon can be picky.”

“I don’t believe so,” Illya replied, slowly shaking her head as she looked towards her Pokemon, “They tend to prefer simply staying outside when we’re camping, sans our starters, who generally sleep with us.”

“I will instruct the staff to have your rooms placed where you can oversee the west lawn, then,” the maid, evidently named Monica, said with a small bow. “And we will have some bedding placed out there.” She moved to one side and pulled a small phone from her apron, speaking into it rapidly.

“I’d lose my head if I didn’t have such wonderful staff!” Backlot chuckled. “Poached them from the places I’ve visited over the years. Travel is wondrous, but the home is where one finds their soul again!” He moved to the table set up on the pavilion, the butler rolling out a small map. “Let me show you a map of the grounds, and we can plan out where you want to go. Sorry to say we don’t have many dragons, ghosts, or ice-types here, saving the small pack of Vulpix who frequent the slopes. So your teams do stand out, for many reasons.”

Shirou looked over the map, eyes passing over the clusters of Pokemon with some interest. “I can almost understand not having many dragon-types, but I’ve seen plenty of ghosts around.”

“Ghosts like places with history and darkness; neither of which this mansion has much of.” Backlot responded simply. “Give it a century and this place will probably have plenty of ghosts, but I built this place myself not thirty years ago! No time for them to settle in, and I don’t have any haunted woods or caves for them to inhabit on the property.”

“That makes some degree of sense.” Illya acknowledged, humming to herself, “I’d imagine that if there were any, they would be few in number, and mostly haunting the mansion itself. Have you considered getting some older relics for them to either inhabit or draw them in with?”

“I have! And I’ve managed to find a few, though they’ve not drawn any takers yet. Not like your blade, young man.” Backlot said to Shirou jovially. “By chance, any interest in leaving them with me? A young Honedge would be a wonderful addition to the mansion.”

Shirou blinked twice and looked over at the pack he’d set down, the blade he’d been carrying and practicing with since their encounter with the Spiritomb hooked below the straps. “A nascent Honedge? I was just practicing with it.”

“Hmm! Very interesting!” The older man chuckled. “There are two kinds of ghost-types, young man; the born, and the created. Those ghosts born like any other Pokemon are typically rather… well, typical when it comes to Pokemon.” He said with a smile. “But those which are created, by tragedy, emotion, power, or simple happenstance; well, they tend to be stronger, but harder to control. And with the age of that blade and the shadows surrounding it, I’d say it won’t be long before it comes to life.” He frowned. “Monica, would it be life or unlife?”

“Life, sir. Most ghosts are not dead, per se,” Monica responded duly.

“I’d say,” Illya nodded sagely, humming to herself. “Ghosts are alive and have registered as alive to most of the spells I use. I’d say that unlife only really applies to very specific ghosts.”

Mr. Backlot perked up. “Magc, hmm? I wouldn’t mind asking some questions about that. Other than the man I had put wards around the property, I’ve not had the chance to meet a mage in years.” He chuckled. “But we’re getting off subject. So! Honedge, will you be keeping them?”

“Yes, I think so,” Shirou replied immediately. “Technically, that blade is a historical artifact, and I don’t think our big sister would appreciate me giving it away without giving her first dibs.”

Illya snickered softly, considering Cynthia’s reaction to such disregard of history. “She’d probably let the sale go through. But she’d want to make sure you’d be keeping good care of it.”

“She’ll likely want to interview them when they wake up,” Yagi remarked, getting in close to study the blade. “It belonged to Benni, the Last Shinobi.” 

Backlot’s eyes widened. “A relic from the Heroine’s era! Wonderful!” He looked at it appraisingly. “You might be lucky enough to meet her, should you carry it.”

“... We already have,” Illya grumbled, a light of anger briefly flickering in her eyes before it passed. It, quite honestly, wasn’t worth the effort to get angry at her anymore. It helped that, well, the other woman involved had already apologized in a way that Illya could actually understand, and both Matilda and Ritsuka had largely forgiven everyone involved in the ordeal. There was a point where holding a grudge was pointless, and she could now recognize when that point came, thanks to Mesprit.

“...I’m starting to think you two are living a very interesting life.” He looked over at Isabella. “And you?”

The Diamond clanswoman shrugged. “There’s a reason I’m following them. I’m not nearly as weird as they are.”

“Well, if you are keeping the blade, I will insist on hearing how you found it,” Backlot said, turning back to Shirou. “It must have been an interesting experience.”

“Certainly, in exchange for some information in return.” Shirou responded. “We do need to resupply, and I was wondering–”

--(o)--

Over breakfast the next morning, Shirou shot his smallest teammate a perplexed look. Normally, the little Riolu was chipper and active first thing in the morning, but today he was a little reserved, eating his food with relish but no energy. “Something happen last night, Yagi?” He asked, buttering a croissant and taking a bite.

“Not what you’re thinking.” The pup yawned. “There’s a den of Magby and their parents living in the back areas. I ended up fighting all of them back to back, then several of the Magmar.” He smirked, waving his fist to produce a corona of flame. “On the plus side, I learned Fire Punch. On the minus, I was up too late sparring.” 

“So that’s the annoying sound that was keeping me up last night,” a rather irritable dragon trilled, a tired glare sent towards the jackal, “You’re paying for that later in the ring, Yagi.”

“I needed a chance to spar with new opponents!” Yagi snapped back before he rubbed his face. “Sorry, sorry. I’m just trying to get prepared.”

“Ah, pre-evolution jitters,” Fafnir rumbled from her own place at the table. “I’ve dealt with those before.”

Mr. Backlot yawned, sipping his tea and peering at the small device in front of him. “Ah, so nice to be able to follow these conversations. As for you, Mr. Yagi, I’m glad you found some sparring partners, but next time you visit, please keep it to waking hours.”

“We apologize, Backlot-san,” Illya said, much more chipper than the rest of the table, having tossed up a cone of silence over her room.

“No harm done in the long term, young lady. You’ll be welcome back if you come by again; you have wonderful stories.” He laughed. “So then! I have a chest of fresh produce, and even some meats, waiting for you when you leave. I will not send you all away empty handed, especially not with the help you’ve given my Feebas and Eevee!”

“They were rather insistent on speaking with us,” Matilda stated with a fond huff, tossing her currently a sister a significant glance. “I do believe they had a favorite though.”

“Well, I am fairly unique. I do wish I could have given them more advice.” Ritsuka shook her head. “I wonder if there will be any successes? Sir, could you let me know?”

“Of course,” Backlog replied. “Do you have your own contact number, or should I get one from your trainer?”

“My trainer’s, please. I don’t have a phone. Nor am I interested in getting one at the moment” Ritsuka answered simply. “Hard to hold them, and Rotom Phones are expensive in Sinnoh.”

Backlot opened his mouth, only for Monica to cough politely. He paused, then nodded. “Indeed. Monica, please get Mr. Emiya’s number, and we’ll remain in touch.” He laughed. “And if I end up with a little purple Eevee, I will let you know immediately! Ah, wouldn’t that be a wonder…”

--(o)--

Isabella looked out over the landscape as the group headed out through the gates, Shirou smiling as he hefted his bag over his back. The siblings looked at the clanswoman as she compared the landscape to her map. “Alright, guys.” She said seriously. “We have two options from here.” She pointed towards the road as it meandered south. “That way follows Route 212, which takes us through the edges of the Mirelands, and is the fastest route to follow if we want to reach Pastoria.” She turned, pointing East towards the woods, the trees in the distance shrouded in moss. “Or, we can head towards the Mirelands directly, and head into Diamond Clan Territory. Illya, if we did that, you could take your trials sooner, and we could face Diamond’s Gym before Crasher Wake. But it’d be a harder trek.”

“... Shirou?” Illya asked, turning to her brother, “Your vote, first? You should know what mine is.”

Shirou thought for a moment. “I’m really good with either… but if I had a preference, I’d rather take the known routes.”

Illya glanced at the woods, nodding sharply. “I’d rather head towards my trials first.”

Isabella turned off her device. “Then we’re going through the Mirelands,” she said simply. “...better to get to the clan grounds first.” Turning, she started walking downhill, heading for the woods. “Come on, we’ll need to ford some mud pits before we reach the trails, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

The group fell in, advancing towards the woods. Out of sight of their advance, on one of the hills poking out of the Mirelands, a young man peered through a set of binoculars.

“Huh, she’s coming early.” The redhead lowered the goggles. “It’s been a while since we faced challengers. Ready, my Lady?”

Lilligant’s expressionless face crinkled in a smile.