Well, I'm starting to rot from the inside writing this redundant crap, but I still need to sum it up. Eros was going to get ye ole books that Cerci taught him with (nostalgia!), although he didn't exactly remember where he placed them. That didn't stop him from searching the fort top to bottom, eventually resulting in the encounter of the pair of books. Oddly enough, he was almost certain he discarded them... None the less, till overmorrow was he practicing the languages and learning to speak, Eros at his side the whole time.
While Eros was constantly concerned about Xerxes for the following days, having only caught glimpses of her and Sicily, he still took the time to finish off the week by training with Manus and watching him perfect his swordplay. Of course, saying that Eros was helping didn't exactly convey the exact nature of it, since Manus seemed to use his sword-limbs better than his own legs, even finding ways to make use of the tiny little wings on his back.
Given the ample free time Eros had, Sicily and Xerxes didn't mind bothering him as he watched and encouraged Manus, a prompt that was assuredly to be unpleasant. Xerxes started, displaying a subtle frown as she spoke. "So, uh, I saw Sicily..."
Eros, still a Cleffa and perched up on a table (somehow), turned to her and, with a concerned countenance, asked, "How did it go?"
"You see... Uh..."
Sicily, who lost all of the smiles and joy she had accumulated over the past months they spent together, stated, "I can't."
Eros inquired, "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I just can't wrap my head around poison." Oh Arceus, she was rilling herself up again... "I mean, what the heck IS poison, anyways? Is it in her blood? I don't know! Is it in her bones? I also don't know! What the hell did she even do?! And to top it off, why is her arm practically dead!? Did you even see it?!" Eros turned his gaze to Xerxes' arm, which was slightly scabbed over, but was more importantly indented in a few locations with growths of yellow-black flesh that appeared hard and calloused. It smelled bad, too, if you wanted to know. "How the heck does an arm rot in a week!?"
"Sicily, calm down. It's alright. Have you tried-"
"I've tried Pecha, Guavo, sprays- heck, I even saw the vet! She can't be cured, Eros! She can't!" Sicily was shouting with such a volume as to almost deafen the others about her. She, upon noticing this, recollected herself and resumed in a much more quiet voice, "I'm sorry. It's just... Seeing Feraligatr die..."
"It's alright." Eros reached out to her, but she simply turned away.
"I... I can't help her. I'm sorry." She left without another word, obviously broken on the inside. What Eros happened to notice was that, possibly as a good omen, Sicily's tail had healed and didn't show any signs of recent bite marks. Then again...
Xerxes stated, "Well, at least she tried. I'll be alright, though. Don't worry about it. I'll probably just get rid of it or something and be fine in a week or so. I'm fine."
Eros didn't know whether or not to believe her, but whether or not he did, he just smiled and said, "Okay. I trust you."
"Thanks." Xerxes gave a sheepish grin before running after Sicily, although with some rather unnatural and overly active motion in her left, damaged arm. Well, if she says she's getting better... Eros wasn't sure whether or not to believe what she said. He was just so worried, especially after seeing Feraligatr die... That, and seeing Alice leave. He didn't know what got into her, nor why she would fathom to blame Feraligatr's death on him. Was it really his fault?
None the less, Manus was trained and, in the next week, should he be lucky, he would acquire the ability to transform on his own accord. Directing Manus to one of the trainers for the next week or so, despite his reluctance, accompanied by some sedimental and complete refusal to learn any sort of magic. Likewise, Sicily, Xerxes and Dusk had been spending time practicing their skills, too, whether alone or on each other, alongside some playful mingling, as well. Eros, assuming that the next objective wasn't going to pop up out of some NPC's asshole (like in some other fanfics- ugh), decided to go about the central Morono area and gather whatever intelligence he could find. He certainly told his Pokemon companions about this but, surprisingly, none of them felt it necessary to come with him. Even Sicily seemed a bit "off" and uninterested when he asked, simply stating that he was more than capable of handling himself.
Although Dusk wished him goodbye, most of Eros' farewells weren't returned in exceptional length, although it totally would've been nice if they did. Without any further ado, Eros marched out of the fort alone and transformed into a Pidgey, flying towards wherever he thought the center of the region was and starting to look about. Having flown there, he arrived within three days, eating whatever berries he found on the ground and otherwise having the time of his life simply flying through the air.
After choosing a perch upon which no gaze dare wander, he shifted into the form of a Cleffa once more, causing him to collapse towards the ground and lie about for a few moments as he licked his wounds. Finding nobody would come to help him up, he started wandering about, knowing he was far from any large human settlement and hoping that he'd somehow stumble upon a Pokemon settlement.
By chance did he come across a small gathering of foxholes and other subterranean buildings, giving him a good start on his adventure- assuming he could find someplace to stay. While taking the aforementioned avian guise to travel to the area, he hadn't the need for proper housing and shelter, since he could perch in a tree and be left to his own matters. Now that he was ground-borne, however, he would be susceptible to the elements, especially since it started raining the minute he set foot in that town. Accompanied by the midnight sky above and the lack of any sort of moon, Eros hadn't even the slightest bit of vision as he walked to the nearest foxhole, led by the minuscule capabilities of his night vision.
As he stumbled in- as a matter of pure necessity, no doubt- he walked for a good five feet, which appeared as a normal hallway in respects to his smaller size, before coming into a cavern that was about as long as the hallway, although lacking the exit area; Rather, there lied a Raticate, staring him right in the eyes. Rather than becoming offended, however, it donned a sort of sympathetic and soothing stare, accompanied by a rather odd greeting: "My, my! What are you doing up so late?"
Eros, hoping to be able to earn the creature's good graces, tried to act as decently as he could, replying in only the kindest voice he could muster. "Oh, I was looking to see if there was an inn or something I could stay in."
"Oh my, dear. You didn't run away, did you?"
"Run away? Like from a trainer battle? I don't believe that's physically possible, madam-"
"Oh, your mother must be worried sick."
"Mother? I... I suppose she's always going to be worried, I guess."
The Raticate tilted her head and inquired, "You didn't run from her?"
"Well, no. I sorta just left to the city one day and never saw her again."
"She abandoned you?"
"No. She's dead."
"Oh." The Raticate shifted uncomfortably, likely as a result of what she said. "And what about your father?"
"He abandoned me."
"Oh. ... Is anybody taking care of you?"
"Excuse me? I'm just taking care of myself."
"My! What has the world come to? To think, a child, left without parents! Surely, someone cares for you?"
"I... No. I'm capable of taking care of myself, madam."
"And just how old are you?"
"I'm... Old enough."
The Raticate started to appear a bit more suspicious than before, stating the next part with a more accusing tone. "But you don't appear any more than six months old, child."
What? Really? "What? Really?"
The Raticate lost her inquisitive expression and returned to a more calming demeanor, responding in a soothing voice, "I know more than a few hatchlings, child. You definitely aren't as old as some of us are."
Playing into this, Eros responded, in a falsely bold motion, "I am actually a year old, miss. I am really old!"
"I'm sure you are." The Raticate walked up to Eros and patted him on the head, becoming even more condescending in her mannerisms. "Why don't you follow me? There's a nice Kecleon right around here who..." However, as the Raticate was about to finish her sentence, she started to mumble making the rest of it unintelligible. The only thing that could be gathered was from the way she said the jumble of words, making it evident she was unsure of herself.
The Raticate rather forcefully guided Eros out into the rainy forest and towards another borough in the ground, this time near the base of a tree. The pathway descended much farther and lower than before, reaching about twice as high and going for at least ten feet diagonally before opening up into a much larger cavern, about the size of a walk-in closet (with a lower ceiling, of course). The room appeared to be crowded, as six piles of cloth, much like linen, with only one occupied by a lone, sleeping Wurmple. On the side, behind a small rug made of another, much coarser material, lied a sleeping Kecleon. The Kecleon, being a light sleeper, woke up as soon as the Raticate approached and took quick notice of the two.
"Ugh... Hm?"
"Oh, dearest Kecleon. I have a favor to ask of you. Could you watch over this child? He doesn't seem to have his parents around and I know you've been looking for a hand to help around the shop."
The Kecleon drearily raised its head and trotted over, displeased with the time he has been awoken. "Wha...? A child...? Fine, fine..." The Kecleon, giving no further signs of acknowledgment, trotted back to the rug and fell asleep somewhere near it, much like it was before.
The Raticate gave a long sigh before whispering, "Stay here for now, child. I'm sure Lemonkin will take good care of you."
"Lemonkin?"
"Please don't make fun of the name." The Raticate smiled once more before trotting back out into the rain.
Eros, unquestioning of the situation and finding it rather advantageous to be able to stay in the town for a while, decided to play into this and rested at the inn for the night. He didn't find himself particularly lonely, although he was concerned for his friends back home...
The next morning, Eros awoke much before Lemonkin, finding that the Wurmple from the previous night had already left and parted from a small sack of coins, decided to rest until Lemonkin had finished his. When he did wake up, Lemonkin was rather surprised to find the tiny Cleffa there, despite the warning last night, and started the morning rather callously. "What are you doing here?"
"Raticate said I could stay here."
"Who? Oh, wait... The child. Right." The Kecleon scratched its head and looked about the room, unsettled at the situation. "Look, uh... Wow, you're young... Uh... Do you have a home?"
"No."
"Oh. Uh... Fine. You can stay here." The Kecleon returned to its spot and started to draw in the mud, unmoved by what the world has given him.
Eros, concerned with his mission, asked, "So, uh, do a lot of people come around here?"
Lemonkin wasn't expecting the question, nor any kind of interaction, but was able to muster up the energy to respond, "Not really. Not unless there's something important going on..."
"Oh. ... No offense, but how does a place like this stay in business?"
Lemonkin raised his head, almost as if that caught his attention; However, by the look on his face, he was trying to indicate that he was annoyed. "I make money. I don't get a lot of customers, but they're really happy customers. They have no problem paying much more than any other place. I take care of them, for Arceus' sake! Don't accuse this place of being bad. It isn't." Kecleon returned his head to the rug before uttering, "Why don't you make yourself useful and clean."
Eros was about to argue that Lemonkin should do this himself but, by the look on his face and the look of the place, he meant it as a threat, not as a chore he did himself. None the less, with little to gain in terms of gossip, Eros decided to take some of the filthy linens towards one of the rivers he flew by on the way there. With the tranquility of the forest and the inactivity of everything around him, he did somehow enjoy bringing each of the cloths into the water and letting them rinse, beating them every so often to improve the cleanliness. While his diminutive size limited him to one sheet per trip and he had to walk for quite a while, he didn't have a problem with it, taking the entire day to clean the beddings in peace. He was soon to have cleaned the linens and the rug, very much improving the quality and smell of the place, something that was very much needed.
As the day came to a close, three guests entered the inn, all inconspicuous creatures about the same size as Lemonkin. Although Eros didn't pick up much from the three, save that someone somewhere died, he was somewhat glad to see the linens put to use, showing his effort was far from worthless. Sure, Kecleon didn't seem to care, but he took pride in it, something that kept him from leaving sooner than he wanted.
The next morning, only one of the former guests remained, the rest leaving little piles of cash as the lone indicator of their former presence. Eros, finding that two of the beds were unoccupied, had slept in one the previous night, finding it more comfortable than the beds back at the guild (although not as comfortable as the ones at the fort). He awoke to find a few berries and an apple at his side, likely a gift from Lemonkin, who was entertaining and feeding the last remaining guest upon his rug.
The week ended uneventfully, leaving not a trace of the mysterious cult that Eros was hunting after, meaning that most of his work there was almost without reward. Eros had been given tasks that ranged from smoothing out walls to buying supplies with the Kecleon in a nearby market, a rather humble and peaceful lifestyle, no matter how temporary. Seeing this to be detrimental to his goal at hand, Eros was about to leave without a single word, except that on the morning of the following week's Monday, Lemonkin talked to Eros, speaking in a sort of remorseful voice. "I, uh... I didn't thank you for all the help..."
Eros grinned and said, "It's no problem!" At about this time, Eros was helping Lemonkin sort and dust off a reservoir of fruits and seeds that he kept hidden in a cache near his rug.
"Eheh... Alright, then. Hope this place isn't too dreary for you."
"Well, it's a little boring, but I could get used to it."
"Yeah. Not much to do here, except to keep watch." Lemonkin almost drifted into a blank stare much like the one he assumes when he hasn't anything to do for the day, but returned to the conversation with a softer vigor. "Hey, uh... There's supposed to be a big festival in the city nearby this weekend. They never have enough rooms for everybody, so we can generally sell a few nights at the time. I was thinking about that, but... You wouldn't happen to want to go, would you?"
Eros wasn't to particularly fond of staying much longer than he had to, although he did find some kind of repose in this kind of work. "Ooh! That sounds like fun!"
Lemonkin chuckled and said, "Well, I'd need to get Iassac to take care of the place, but... Alright." He motioned for Eros to keep his place and started out of the inn, only pausing for a second to inquire, "By the way, I never learned your name."
The Cleffa smirked and said, "Eros."
"Hah, almost as bad as my name."