Pokémon: The Mysterious Region (book 1)

Chapter 2: The First Night

I leaned against a rock, staring blankly at the fire. Night had fallen and the Magikarps were all eaten. We were going to have trouble if we stayed here too long. I don't think we could capture and kill those Krabbys even if we tried. Not to mention the Kinglers roaming the beach, keeping watch on all their pre-evolutions. 

Beyond our fire, a lone palm tree swayed lightly to the soft breeze. Several Crabrawlers were making their way up it to reach the coconut, yet they kept knocking each other off in such a repetitive loop that the three coconuts have been untouched for hours.

I leaned my head a little further back and stared at the magnificent starry night sky. Clusters of stars shone brightly above as well as galaxies. You couldn't get a view like this anywhere in Galar, especially not in the industrializing zones.

Ryan grunted in his sleep across from me and rolled onto his side, his right leg placed carefully on a rock. I looked at my left leg and checked the bruise there. It wasn't bad, just painful. 

I held out my hands over the dwindling fire, trying to gather the last of its warmth before I had to gather more wood while evading the crabby Pokemon. 

I tried to think back to just over a month ago, before Ryan and I had set sail. He had gotten back from his year of being deployed nine months prior and was restless. I on the other hand was extremely busy. I was up to my neck in school work, but I always managed to find time to work on the side project I had started after my late father passed when I was seven. 

I smiled. Fond memories of him tucking me into bed with the most fantastical bed time stories were the highlight of nights he was home. He told me the story of the Mysterious Region that had been passed down through our family line. Vague tales of the island that was once part of the world, a region dominated by the vast population of Pokemon. Few people actually lived there, but those who did lived in perfect harmony with the nature around them. 

The most thrilling part of these stories were that many mysteries of the region had not been revealed. Like how did the region form? What were the strange drawings found? And how did the island disappear into only legends, its location lost to all? These questions and more fueled my desire to know more, the last thing I have of my father. So I studied as much as I could, but very little could be found. 

Only when my brother returned did I finally uncover something. Ryan had visited one of our relatives on his trip back home and was given something to give to me once he heard about my "obsession".

A small, faded emerald chest with a complicated lock. Instead of breaking it like he would've normally done, Ryan had pick-locked it and revealed what was inside. A faded parchment, a map of the Mysterious Region, along with sketches of ruins and cave drawings. We had debated going to scientists to see if it the map was genuine, but we had decided to keep it a secret, at least from the general public. We went to see a specialist who confirmed when the map had been made. Approximately fifteen hundred years ago. 

Ryan and I had began planning a voyage to the coordinates listed on the map two months ago. That whole month we spent time gathering the necessary funds for a captain daring enough to sail into uncharted waters and a crew as daring as their captain. We had set sail, our hopes high, due Southwest from Galar.

For a month we sailed before reaching the coordinates, but with no sign of land. Our hopes plummeting, we sailed for several days in the surrounding area, unable to locate the island. The night the captain had decided to give up a storm broke loose and here we were. Sadly I had lost the chest in the storm, but that hardly mattered at this point. 

I looked at the towering cliff behind me. The idea that Ryan and I had washed up on the beach of the Mysterious Region had not left my mind since I was able to relax. But until I was able to get a look over the cliff, I had no idea if this cove was the only thing here and that nothing lay beyond it. 

Ryan moaned as he shifted again in his sleep, his face clenched. Worried, I stood and knelt next to him. I felt his forehead and immediately retracted my hand. It was burning hot.

"This is not good," I whispered as panic swelled up inside me.

I didn't know how to tend for the sick and the only one who did was the one sick.

Ryan opened his eyes and he must've saw the panic in mine because he gripped my hand, though it wasn't as tight as it used to be. As it should be.

"Hey," he croaked. "Don't worry. I've been in worst situations."

I tried to calm down, but fear still resided in my stomach, making me queasy. I looked at his tightly bound leg and knew it was probably time to get new bindings for it. I pulled over a long strip of sail that I had gathered earlier and carefully unwrapped Ryan's bandage. 

I became even more nauseated at the sight of blood and pulp that even I could tell that the wound was infected. 

"Damn," Ryan muttered as he lifted his head to look. "That looks bad alright."

I turned to him, fearful. "How are we supposed to treat you!?"

He smiled slightly before groaning and laying his head back down.

"Hey," I said, scooting closer to him. "What's wrong!?"

His face scrunched up in pain and I could hear his irregular breathing. "Listen Liam, I... I may not make it."

"Don't say that," I said. "Please don't say that."

He fumbled at his side before unhooking his sheath and sliding his knife into it. "Here, take it."

He thrust it into my hands, but I didn't want it. "I... I can't."

"Yes you can," he said firmly. "Now Liam, I wan't you to promise me something."

"Anything," I said, clinging onto his hands.

He grimaced in pain. "Survive, no matter what. You have to survive. For me."

Tears had gathered in my eyes, blurring my vision. "I will! I promise!"

His hands seemed to relax. "Good... good..."

He reached into his waistband and pulled out his gun. I couldn't move. I had to stop him.

He smiled sadly at me. "You can do this. I know you can."

He pressed the muzzle to his head. "Remember, survival is key."

BANG!

His hand dropped and the last embers in the fire died away and I was left alone in the dark. All alone.

Now he's alone. This journey seems to be going well so far for Liam. Well, I have nothing else to say. Dang. Oh well. Toodles