#xavaric

It had been months since that night at the lake. Long enough for rumors to start about a ghost, a monster, a cryptid, roaming the forest; long enough for the screaming pain to turn to a hollow ache. For the forest to learn the shape of their footsteps, the weight of their shadow.

The first week was bad. The second week, worse. By the third week, Xaviric had started to grow used to the cold, and by the fourth week they stopped begging the cosmos for salvation and started wandering.

They no longer flinched at the posters with the faces of two people who no longer are. No longer followed voices that called to names that no longer fit.

Though- they did still linger. Hidden in the trees, behind the shadows. Watching the life that they once had. Watching the people who had once been their neighbors, their family, their friends. Their damnation, their solitude.

Sometimes laughter carried on the wind. They always had to retreat further into the forest at the sound of warmth that had been ripped from their lives. It was a weak attempt to protect their already broken heart, but it helped. Sometimes.

Today was one of those days. Where they escaped deeper into the woods. The skies were overcast, the forest itself was dark. It felt... not safe, but quiet. Away from people, away from anyone who could see them. It was... gentler, here.

They did not escape far enough away from the story they had unwillingly became, though. Not tucked into a dark enough corner where no one could reach them. Only far enough that, once found, they became less of a story and more of a legend.

Xaviric was minding their own business, truly. Separating berries-- which ones were still edible, which ones to plant. Which ones they could feed to their team. Benign things like that. Meaningless things. Routine.

Which is why they flinched so hard when they heard the voice, "You! You're the ghost in the lake that Damian was cryin' about," reckless arrogance echoed from the young man's voice, "I want a battle! You're a trainer, ain't'cha?!" It was not a question, not really. It was a challenge. One that Xavier would have answered with a smirk. One that Rica would have shied away from.

One that Xaviric... did not want to accept--

"C'mon, don't be shy! I only hiked all the way out here to beat you!" Xaviric was given no choice, once the trainer sent out their first Pokémon; a Riolu. With downcast gaze, and shaking hands, without so much of a breath of a word, Xaviric reached into their bag, and reached for their own Pokémon. "Espeon, please..." Xaviric's voice was rough from the months of solitude, and Rica's Espeon... her condition was better than it had been Scarred yes, but- "Eh? This is what Damian was scared of? Hah! Your Espeon looks like it could be defeated by a gentle breeze!" Taunting. Mocking. Cocky.

Rage. Sickening and boiling underneath Xaviric's skin. They remembered Espeon defending them. They remembered Espeon helping them. They remembered Espeon being there for them. The Riolu froze where it stood, eyes darting to its trainer in panic--

Xaviric stood at their full height now, their jaw clicked when they ground their teeth, their hesitation gone, as if it had never been there at all, "Psychic."

The Riolu didn't even have a chance to cry out before it collapsed. Xaviric didn't even spare it a glance. They kept their gaze on the trainer. A silent test.

The trainer swallowed, their bravado flickering like a candle in a draft, "W-well, you're just... lucky! Yeah!" The trainer tried to summon their confidence as he recalled his Riolu, and sent out his next Pokémon. "Buneary-! It's- it's your turn!"

Xaviric didn't even shift their gaze, pinning the trainer in place with their stare, "Again."

The buneary tried to run. He didn't even make it halfway to his trainer before collapsing.

The trainer's hands were shaking now, but he laughed. Too loud, too sharp, "A-alright, alright! That was just... bad luck! Yeah-- Yeah! That's-- that's all this is!"

The next Pokéball hit the ground harder than it needed to, "Pancham-- show 'em who's boss!" The Pancham puffed out his chest and stepped forward-- and stopped dead in his tracks. His ears twitched. He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide.

His trainer snapped his fingers, "Hey-- c'mon, don't freeze up now!"

Xaviric didn't move. Didn't blink. Espeon's eyes glowed in the dim light.

Pancham never even threw a punch.

The trainer's breath grew shallow, he almost dropped his next Pokéball. A Spinda. It went down just as fast, its erratic movements cut short mid-step, body hitting the ground in an awkward sprawl.

The trainer stared at Xaviric. Their gaze remained cold.

"F-fine! Fine! This is- This is Fine! I still- I still have... still have..." He looked like he was about to cry as he let the Pokéball roll out of his palm. It opened.

Stufful emerged. He did not roar. Did not charge.

He just stood there. Paws sinking into the soft earth, he looked back at his trainer.

The trainer could not meet his own Pokémon's gaze. The air hummed. The pressure was almost unbearable. Stufful's eyes stayed locked on his trainer as he lost consciousness, Psychic landing one final time.

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

"Espeon-" Xaviric's voice still carried an order in it--

The trainer wasn't about to test his chances. He turned and ran, recalling Stufful on his way.

Xaviric's breath left their chest in a controlled exhale. Espeon looked back at them. They did not meet her gaze.

They recalled her, and listened to the leaves crunch under the fleeing trainer's shoes.

Tried to settle the ache in their chest. Tried to calm the fire that still felt like it was dragging through their throat.

Tried to ignore the sting behind their eyes.

Xaviric slowly knelt where they had been sorting berries. Went back to sorting them, despite the tremor in their hands.