Professor Obel studied Riven for a long moment, the glow of a half-functional monitor painting his tired face in pale green. The boy stood rigid near the entrance of the lab, hands clenched by his sides, jaw tight but eyes full of cautious curiosity.
"You're Gideon's grandson, aren't you?" Obel asked, his voice neither warm nor cold—just… direct.
Riven's brow furrowed slightly. "Yes. Riven Valehart. And… are you Professor Obel?"
The older man blinked, then offered a tired smile. "He still talks about me, huh?"
Riven shrugged. "Not much. Only that… if I ever found myself in danger around Velridge, I should come find you. He said you'd help."
Obel exhaled, something between a sigh and a laugh escaping his chest. "Hmph. That sounds just like the old bastard. Never gives you the full story—only just enough to survive."
He gestured for Riven to sit down on a worn metal stool. Riven complied, wincing as his side flared with pain again. Obel noticed and frowned.
"You're hurt."
"A little," Riven muttered. "It's fine."
"Let me guess—Dark Woods?"
Riven nodded slowly. "Yeah."
Obel's face darkened, but he masked it quickly. "That forest's grown restless. Something's stirred it."
A silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken things. Then Obel asked gently, "How's Gideon? And your family?"
Riven hesitated, then replied honestly. "They're good. Overbearing, but good. Mira's still home. She's waiting until next year to start her journey. My mom... she worries too much."
"And your grandfather?"
"Still stubborn as hell," Riven said with the ghost of a smile. "Still lectures more than he talks."
That made Obel laugh—dry, wheezing, but genuine. "Good. Means he hasn't changed. Gideon Valehart's the only man I've ever seen tell a noble general to shut up and live to tell the tale."
They shared a brief, relieving silence.
But then Obel leaned forward, steepling his fingers.
"You heard about the General stationed here, I assume?"
Riven raised an eyebrow. "You mean the guy with the cloak and badge at the checkpoint?"
Obel nodded. "That's General Kael Vortan. Tier 3, under House Valeria's direct command. Most people think he's just here to supervise the wild zones. But his real job is more complicated than that."
Riven listened carefully now.
"You see," Obel continued, "Velridge might look like a forgotten little town on the edge of nowhere, but strategically? It's a keystone. Positioned right between the Mourningveil Jungle and the Dark Woods. It's the only safe passage for miles—land routes, supply chains, and resource patrols all pass through here. Control Velridge, and you hold the leash on eastern Tenebria's frontier."
"So… House Valeria is watching this area closely?"
"More than you know. Every town and city nearby—Velridge, Duskburn, Greymarsh, even parts of Calmont Bay—are under Valeria's jurisdiction. And they don't send Tier 3 generals to stand around doing nothing. Kael's here because they expect something."
Riven's chest tightened slightly.
"You think it's because of what happened in the Dark Woods?"
Obel gave him a sharp look. "I don't know what happened. Because you haven't told me."
Riven looked away.
Obel didn't push. "But I do know this: there's something off about your Froakie."
Riven's gaze snapped back.
Obel turned a screen toward him. It displayed flickering energy patterns, a mesh of blue and violet lines. "I've scanned thousands of Pokémon over the years. That one's aura... it's not ordinary. Something's inside it—or awakened. Maybe not dangerous yet, but certainly rare."
"I didn't notice anything," Riven said, though doubt tinged his voice.
"You wouldn't. Not unless you were trained to read aura fields or had a resonance lens. But take my word for it—your partner is different. And if people higher up suspect it, they won't care how you found it. They'll just want to control it."
Riven clenched his fists. "So what do I do?"
"Stay quiet. Keep moving. Don't attract attention. And don't linger in Velridge too long."
"I was going to stay," Riven admitted. "Take missions. Train. Earn some money."
"You still can. For a little while. But don't get comfortable."
Obel moved to another room and returned with a dark backpack, reinforced and padded, already packed with supplies.
He placed it on the table beside Riven, then added five Pokéballs, a handful of potions, two antidotes, a compact food ration pack, and a local map disk.
"These are for you. Your grandfather requested I prepare them long ago. He said you'd be too proud to ask, and too foolish not to need them."
Riven stared. "I can't take all of this for free."
"You can," Obel said, more gently now. "Because he already paid."
Riven looked away for a moment. Then, quietly, he nodded and reached for the bag.
---
Outside, the late sun cast Velridge Town in burnished orange. The streets bustled with the casual indifference of people used to surviving on the edge of the wilds.
But Riven could feel it now—beneath the cobbled streets and smiling merchants, there was tension. Something unseen pressed in from the woods and jungle. He didn't belong here. Not for long.
Still…
He needed to train. He needed money. And, most of all, he needed to grow strong enough to face whatever path lay ahead.
So he made his way to the town guild, nursing the ache in his side with every step. The receptionist—a tall woman with sharp eyes and cropped hair—greeted him with a nod as he entered.
"New, huh? Name?"
"Riven."
She tapped at a screen. "Basic license. No guild points yet. Injured too. Not the best look, but we all start somewhere. Looking for work?"
"Yeah. Something… light."
She tapped a few more keys and handed him a printed slip.
"Herb collection in the Dark Woods' outer ring. Annoying Diglett nests, but no real danger. Pays fifty credits. You'll need to gather three types—Nightblossom, Ironroot, and Veil Fern. Bring them to the south collection point."
Riven nodded. "I'll take it."
She handed him a stamped guild token. "Good luck. And watch your step. The woods have been whispering lately."
---
As Riven stepped back into the street, mission token in hand, he glanced toward the tree line beyond the town's edge.
The sun was almost gone now, and the shadows that waited at the edge of the Dark Woods seemed to stretch like fingers toward him.
He tightened his grip on the token.
He would enter again. Not just for herbs.
But for the truth.