Stormy Horizon

by ZauronTheChangeling

Rating: teen
Tags: Storm King, Drama, Adventure, Tempest Shadow, Crossover, Pokémon, Profanity, My Little Pony: The Movie, Violence, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Death, Alternate Universe, Human
Length: 6517

A young man takes his first official case investigating the disappearance of nine individuals during a blizzard, only to find more trouble than he expected. -An Eeveeverse fic.

My name is Zach. I am a hobbyist hacker, modder, gamer, and closet brony. I recently started a job working with the local police to solve crimes involving computers and/or the internet. I was excited to get my first case: ten people gone missing without a trace after a multi-day blizzard. Unfortunately, it was a bit of a cold-case, and I was only called in as a last-ditch effort to find something.

But oh, did I find something.

Now I'm trapped in another world, in the body of my favorite mythical Pokémon, with absolutely no clue where I am, how I got here, or where my computer is. That last one's the most important! At least I can get to know my new body and awesome powers. Wait... is that a pony?!

Set in the Eeveeverse with permission from Symphonicdysonince. You don't necessarily have to read the original to understand this story, but it is highly recommended.

This story is a work in progress. It may be edited and changed in any way at any time.

Published 2022-05-11 01:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2023-12-03 07:06:46 UTC

Prologue [Edited]

I sighed, going over the emails one last time. There was no sign that anything was amiss, no secret plans to run off into the night with friends, no sign of having made any enemies, nothing. The leading theory so far was that the neighbor had snapped and taken off with all nine of ‘em, but there simply was no evidence to support it. As far as the investigators had been able to tell, they had all up and disappeared without a trace.

I sighed, running my hand over my eyes. I glanced over at the list of names set beside my computer. Nine youths and one 30+ year-old man, missing after getting together for a six-day blizzard. No sign of foul play. No sign the older one, Luke, had even been in the same building as the youths. The department had asked me to go through their phones and computers, but so far I was turning up nothing. All I’d found so far was a corrupt video file that I’d been having no luck cleaning up. Just a white screen and static.

“My first real investigation and I’m already completely stumped,” I grumbled, resting my head on my desk. “Why couldn’t I have gotten something easier, like a drug ring?”

Truth was, this wasn’t my first time in the realm of digital justice. Before I’d been recruited, I had been a somewhat proficient scripter and penetration tester, eeking out a living by turning in bug-bounties for big tech companies, while in my evenings I trolled the deep web for underground markets, traffickers, and other horribly illegal things, gathering evidence to anonymously send the police before raining digital hellfire on their operations. It was a bit of a power trip, honestly. Though I fooled myself into believing I did it for the sake of others; really, I was just bored.

Now, though, when I finally get a chance to work with the police department directly, they set me on some impossible case simply because I “might be able to find something”. Sure, I’d found missing people before, but that was because the idiots who kidnapped them decided to advertise their service on a private website with opsec so terrible my grandma could’ve deduced their location. This, though? This was a whole different beast.

I shook off those thoughts and was about to go back to staring cluelessly at my laptop screen when I heard a loud pop as the power went out, plunging the room into darkness.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, blinking as I tried to get my eyes to adjust to the dark. “Hey, sarge? Captain Murphy? Anyone there? The power blew out!”

I stumbled blindly out of the room, my eyes adjusting painfully slowly. Strangely enough, no one else seemed to be around. I made my way through the precinct, calling out for the officers that I knew were supposed to be on shift right now, but heard nothing.

“Dammit, guys!” I cursed, grabbing my laptop and making my way to the back. “Hell of a time to step out for a smoke…”

I set my laptop down on a nearby bench and turned it towards the back of the room, turning up the brightness, and lighting up the back wall with the screen. It illuminated the breaker box, which I pulled open, squinting at the switches within. It seemed as though whatever hit the place, it had tripped almost every single fuse in the building. Muttering curses over the building’s no-doubt century old wiring problems, I set to work flipping all the switches. Only once everything else was set did I go back to the master, flipping it with a loud click!

Before my hand had even left the breaker, a loud pop sounded again, much closer this time. Lightbulbs flared, sparks flew, and before I knew it, a powerful, burning pain shot through my arm and into the rest of my body, forcing me into spasms. I screamed, trying to let go of the breaker, but my muscles refused to obey my commands, holding the switch with an iron grip. It felt like fire shooting through every muscle in my body, squeezing all the air from my lungs. Behind me, my laptop screen grew insanely bright, the white screen of the corrupted video suddenly forming into strange colors and patterns that did nothing to alleviate the pain of being the station’s only functional grounding rod. The static grew deafening, resolving into strange patterns of squeals and whines, like interference in a satellite signal. Before I knew it, the screen exploded with a snap, and everything went white.

🗲🗲🗲

The ritual was almost complete, or so she assumed. There wasn’t anything else on the page, so that had to be it.

“Right,” The pony muttered to herself. “I can do this. I don’t need a stupid horn to do this! The book said any race can do it! I just have to…”

The pony took a deep breath, calming herself down. This was an ancient ritual, one meant to summon creatures of immense strength from the great beyond, and bind them to her will. This was her last shot at gaining any sort of power in this world, she couldn’t afford anxiety.

“Less talking, more summoning,” She muttered to herself, then got to work.

🗲🗲🗲

You should not be here…

I felt myself tearing apart. Lightning shot through my veins, and colors flashed across my vision. I felt like I was falling, but I couldn’t tell where. I smashed through things that felt like branches made of pure agony, felt my flesh being carved apart and put back together, and felt pain in places I was pretty sure I didn’t have. I tried to scream, but I had no voice. Everything was noise, color, pain!

I felt myself being jerked towards something, ripping me through space faster than I could think. It drew me in, resonating with some part of me. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I reached for it, guiding myself towards it as best I could to escape the chaos around me. I felt myself break free of something, and with a flash, I passed out.

🗲🗲🗲

It took a few tries, and a couple false-starts, but eventually the mare managed to make it most of the way through the chant. She felt a slight heat on her head from the direction of the circle, but dutifully kept her eyes shut, continuing her chant. She didn’t know what would happen if she messed up now, but she was determined to see it through. She was almost finished when a bright light pierced her eyelids, and a powerful shockwave sent her sliding away from the circle, interrupting her ritual, and sending reagents scattering anywhere. There was a loud CRACK in front of her, and she dared open her eyes for just a moment.

In the middle of the circle, hovering a few feet above the floor, a jagged hole had opened in reality itself, spilling light and color into the space. The mare couldn’t help but stare as the rift crackled with energy for a moment, before exploding with light and sound, forcing her to close her eyes again. When the light died out, she hesitantly opened them, staring at the large white creature that lay in her circle.

It looked tall. The mare estimated that at full standing height, it’d be nearly twice her own, and she was already considered tall for a pony. It looked like an Abyssinian, with thick, white fur covering a majority of its body. It had a pair of thick, jagged, yellow whiskers on its face, as well as a strange yellow protrusion on its forehead, like a bird’s crest, or some sort of demented cowlick. Its torso was an off-blue, with much shorter fur all around its barrel before returning to the thicker, white fur at its waist. It had a long, jagged tail that protruded from way too high on its back, making it seem just that much more alien.

As the mare stared, the creature groaned, slowly sitting up with a paw pressed to its head. It blinked its yellow eyes open slowly and stared at her.
“Zer… ra…” It hissed, its voice low and growly. “Ora zer, zeraora.”

Author's Note

Finally decided to try my hand at a pseudo-collab piece. I've read over Symphonic's Equestrian Eeveelution three times, and Shirotora's Fire and Steel at least twice. They're both really good stories, and I recommend y'all go check 'em both out if you haven't already.
This one's gonna be kind of a casual story. I don't expect it to take off; I'm mainly writing it for funsies. Thanks a bunch for giving it a read, and stick around if you're interested in more; I hope to update this one somewhat regularly-ish. Maybe.

=====EDIT=====
Sorry for not updating in a while, despite what I claimed. Life happens, and writing pony fiction is hard when fecal matter hits the oscillating... thingie. You know what I mean.
Anyway, I've made a few changes to the chapter. First and foremost, the method of arrival has been completely (mostly) redone in order to be a little more canon-compliant. Additionally, some things were moved around or rephrased for clarity and flow. Still feel free to point out any mistakes; I am but human, after all.

1: I Gain Myself a Slave-Master

I groaned. A fairly standard reaction, one might even say stereotypical, to having one’s head split open!

…

…Okay, it wasn’t that bad, but it certainly felt like it.

My blood pounded in my ears in time with my heart, sending pain pulsing through my brain with every beat. It was like a concussion mixed with the world’s worst hangover. Everything hurt, and I felt like I might lose my lunch at any moment. Or would that be dinner? Doughnuts? I realized I hadn’t actually eaten anything before beginning my late-night computer fest. Oops.

I lay there on the hard, sandy ground for a minute or two, trying to catch my breath and recover. You’d be lazy, too, if you were just struck by what felt like the full force of the city’s electrical grid. Not to mention the lights, and the explosion… Come to think of it, was I really alive?

I blinked open one eye and immediately regretted it, the surge of sunlight burning through my brain like a laser beam. Had I ended up outside? It would explain the sand I felt through my oddly fuzzy clothes. It seemed like I was wearing a winter coat whose bottom half was just ripped off, leaving me exposed. My nerves must be fried, then. I felt a flash of annoyance and anger run through me. The whole damn station had just used me as a grounding rod, and the rest of the force was nowhere to be found. I wasn’t even in the hospital!

I groaned again, trying a second time to open my eyes. After blinking a few times, I was able to keep them at least partially open, revealing a strange, purple blur over a sandy gray background. I clutched at my head, slowly pushing myself into a seated position as the sand shifted beneath me. I looked at the purple blur, which was slowly taking some sort of shape. I did a double-take as I realized what it was.

Sitting a couple yards from me, wide eyed and terrified, was a tall, velvet-colored unicorn with a fuchsia mane and tail, broken horn, and no cutie mark. I immediately identified her as Tempest Shadow, real name Fizzlepop Berrytwist, from the My Little Pony movie.

Mlp had been a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine, having been drawn in by fan art and fiction of various qualities. I never told anyone about my love for the show, which worked out well, given that of all of my friends, I’d only actually met one in real life. I had read many a strange fanfiction in which some self-insert fanboy got spirited off to Equestria, sometimes being transformed into a pony or other creature from the show, and immediately started muddling with events.

Seeing the impossible object of thousands of works of bad fiction right before my eyes, I immediately said the most sensible and intelligent thing I possibly could.

“W-wha…?” I stammered. “What the fuck did I drink…?”

Tempest stared at me in disbelief for several seconds, not even breathing as she met my gaze. I narrowed my eyes, not enjoying just being stared at.

“Cut me some slack, okay? I got hit by lightning this morning.” I rolled my eyes and began checking over my form. Turns out the fuzzy sensation I’d been feeling over most of my body was, in fact, fuzz. Fur, technically. I had what looked like a pair of white furry pants over a blue midsection, as well as two white-furred paw-like hands with jagged lightning bolt patterns on the back. In front of me, just under my line of sight, bobbed some sort of yellow… thing. I tried grabbing it, only to wince slightly at the sensation. Whatever it was, it was sensitive. I started to get a theory going, and continued my investigation.

I reached up, running my hand over my head. I felt a soft protrusion at the front, like a cowlick, that sent tingles of static electricity through my fingers when I touched it. I then reached behind me, grasping onto something dangling from my upper back. I pulled it in front of me, revealing a jagged white tail, shaped like an elongated lightning bolt. It was one with which I was very familiar.

“I’m a Zeraora?!” I exclaimed in disbelief. “A Zeraora in Equestria, or wherever the equine hell I ended up, sitting in front of Tempest fucking Shadow herself. And I just so happened to get the ugly-ass shiny version, too?!”

To be fair, I didn’t actually dislike Zeraora’s shiny form. Honestly, it could be a lot worse, and Zeraora was my favorite mythical pokemon, in the running for favorite overall alongside Umbreon. I was just freaking out at the pure insanity of it all.

I’m dead, or in a coma, I thought to myself. That’s it! I got electrocuted half to death, and am now lying unconscious in the hospital dreaming of ponies and my favorite electric type pokemon. None of this is real. None of this can possibly be real!

While I had been having my little existential crisis, Tempest had managed to recover her own faculties, and was now standing on all four hooves, putting on an air of authority. The clear nervousness in her gaze kinda ruined the effect, though.

“Creature!” She bellowed, forcing her voice to remain steady. “Obey my commands. On your feet!”

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second, princess,” I groused, still rubbing my aching head.

Tempest frowned, casting a nervous glance to my side. I took that chance to look around myself, catching sight of what looked like the remains of some sort of summoning ritual. Directly around me was a large, thin, metal ring of some kind, possibly silver or polished nickel. Scattered in all directions around me were piles of ingredients of some kind, including various types of rocks and pebbles, and a whole lot of what looked like salt or ground-up quartz. Was I summoned here somehow? That’s not how pokemon worked, nor how My Little Pony did.

“Man, my brain must be really havin’ a ball tonight,” I muttered to myself. Weirdest coma ever. Also the only one.

“The circle is intact,” Tempest muttered to herself. “It should listen to me.”

“It?” I huffed. “I’m right here, Tempest. I’m a person, and my name is Zach.”

Tempest ignored me, somehow not even reacting to my use of her name. She looked me in the eye and spoke again, with more force this time, “I command you to stand immediately!”

“You really are a bossy one, aintcha?” I grumbled, reluctantly climbing to my feet. “Where are we, anyway?”

I groggily began making my way over to what looked like a doorway. The frame was cracked, and there was sand spilling in from outside. I figured if I could take a look around, I could figure out the setting for this fever dream. As I stumbled out of the circle, Tempest’s bravado melted, her eyes widening in shock and fear once again. Before I knew it, she was backpedaling away from me, horn alight with electric sparks. It took a few moments too long to realize what she was doing.

“Wait, I’m not--!”

I was cut off as a big blue bolt of energy impacted my stomach, sending me flying across the room. I hit the wall with a thud, expecting something to break. However, instead of pain, I felt a rush of power, centered on where she’d struck me and radiating out to suffuse my body. My grogginess faded away, as did most of my pain. I blinked, meeting Tempest’s gaze.

Of course! Zeraora has Volt Absorb, it’s how he gets his electricity, since he can’t produce it himself.

I stared at Tempest for a few seconds, a grin slowly splitting my face. “Dude, that was awesome! It’s like the best cup of coffee in the world, or a shot of caffeine delivered straight to my brain box. Do it again!”

Instead of obliging me like a good little dealer, Tempest continued to back against the wall, glancing around with her eyes as though looking for a way to escape. “I-I command you to stand down!” She tried, shaking like a leaf.

“You know, you were much more badass in the movie,” I said, my grin fading. “This must be before you met the Storm King, huh? I didn’t really look into the comics and stuff much.”

I began walking forward again, then paused, tilting my head at the unicorn. “Wait, can you even understand me, or am I just doing poke-speak to you?”

Tempest looked equally confused, but seemed to gain a little confidence by my pause. “You are my creature,” she said shakily. “You will obey my commands!”

“That answers that,” I said with a sigh. “Ya’d think that my own dream would at least have the decency of giving me speech. I mean, if the stories are true, I may end up spending a lifetime in here before I recover.”

“G-good,” Tempest said, obviously still skeptical. “Now step forward and kneel.”

I looked her over, really taking her in for the first time in High Definition. There was a nasty scar on her face, jagged and poorly healed, running down from her forehead to her cheek, even across her eyelid. She must’ve been real lucky to get that without losing her eye. Her horn was short, ending in a jagged stump only an inch or two away from her head. It reminded me of a broken bone, complete with cracks along what was left of the ridges. Her mane was bushy and unkempt, and her tail wasn’t much better. Without her armor, she looked like a wretched mess.

At that moment, I decided to do something I’d only done as an act of boredom. I decided to show some compassion. Sure, this was probably just some fever dream I was trapped in until my brain got unfried. Sure, she would probably go on to be a strong independent mare who don’t need no stallion, make a series of terrible choices, and eventually end up friends with the Mane Six in Celestia knows how long; but right now she just looked like a scared little girl who needed a friend, and would do anything to get one, even if she didn’t know it yet. Besides, this was my fever dream, and I could do what I want!

Chuckling to myself, I slowly made my way towards her, both hands held up in a disarming gesture, and took a knee in front of her. Even still, I was taller than her, though only just. If she still had a horn we’d probably be about even.

Tempest’s face relaxed somewhat, but still remained skeptical. She cleared her throat, taking a moment to collect herself, then looked at me, her gaze resolute.

“You will accompany me on my travels,” she said, standing a little straighter. “You will serve as my weapon, and my assistant.”

And your friend, I mentally added. Damn, I’m gonna be friends with Tempest Shadow. What a life.

After a few moments, I realized she must’ve been waiting for a response. I nodded once, not sure what else to say. “Zeraora,” I added for good measure.

Tempest returned my nod, then looked back over at the metal circle. “Retrieve that,” she said, gesturing to it. “Then follow me.”

As Tempest made her way out of the building, I stood up and walked over to the circle, picking it up. Turns out it wasn’t a metal ring so much as a fine metal chain; a very large one. I wondered what its purpose was and, if it was made of silver like it appeared, just how expensive it was. Shrugging, I slung the chain over my shoulder like a sash and followed Tempest out into the desert.

Author's Note

Finally, a new chapter! Looks like Zach's gone and gotten himself involved with Tempest Shadow. What sort of crazy adventures might this duo get up to? Stay tuned and find out!

Comments and criticism welcome; I'm only human.

2: Something something fish pun

As a (albeit temporary) special investigator for the police, I pride myself on my ability to analyze a situation, taking in all the details, and formulate a detailed understanding of a given scenario. Utilizing this skillset, which I definately, 100% have, I came to an intelligent and meaningful conclusion about our situation within an hour of taking off into the desert with Tempest.

Deserts suck.

Surprisingly enough, the heat didn't bother me quite as much as I thought it would, though I could tell I would need water soon. I guess being the embodiment of a living lightning bolt afforded some perks every now and then. No, what bothered me was the sand. Call me Skywalker, because I don't like it. It really is coarse, rough, and gets everywhere. I hated the constant shifting beneath my feet, the grinding under and between my toes, and the stinging scratches each grain seemed to leave behind as I took step after step…

…after step…

…after step…

…damn, walking sucks, too. When can I learn to fly?

That thought made me pause briefly, causing Tempest to glance at me in annoyance and slight concern. Whether she was concerned for me, or afraid of some hidden danger she hadn't sensed wasn't clear, but it didn't last long. "We must continue our journey, creature," she said, starting forward again. "Keep up. I intend to make Wet Sands by sundown."

I grunted, not bothering to tell her my name for the thirtieth time—it's not like she'd understand, anyway—and continued forward, pondering silently to myself.

Can I fly? I know Zeraora flew in the movie, and his dex entry refers to riding on the earth's magnetic field, but I don't think he can learn fly. Can he even learn any flying-type moves?

I stared down at my hands—paws?—as I walked. The pads on my fingers and heel of my hands had a texture very similar to a cat's paws, though slightly smoother, and significantly more yellow. Running the back of my hand over one of them made the fur pull towards it slightly, like with static electricity, which supported the idea that they were used for electric moves. However, I had no idea how to even summon a spark from them, let alone whatever weirdness let Zeraora float on magnetism. I focused on trying, using the distraction to keep from feeling every single grain of sand beneath my tragically bare feet, but no matter what I tried, nothing came of it.

"Great," I muttered to myself. "I'm a thundercat with no thunder. Wonder if I can weird my enemies to death?"

"Your complaints mean nothing to me," Tempest said, not looking back at me. "Do as you are ordered and we shall find shelter promptly."

I rolled my eyes, but otherwise kept silent. Not that she'd understand anything I said anyways. Instead, I occupied myself going over every fact I knew about Zeraora from the games and movies, which was admittedly not much. I'd never played Sword or Shield, and Zeraora was only available in Ultra Sun/Moon to people who bought some show ticket or something. Plus, it'd been a long time since I'd actually played a pokemon game, or really consumed any pokemon media. I claimed Zeraora as my favorite partially because he was new and exciting, and I'd always had a soft spot for electric types. There's a lot you can do with electricity, and Zeraora was the perfect example.

I decided to try a different tactic. A lot of fiction has their characters using a method of sensation and visualization. If one could "see" deep enough into themselves, they'd discover their hidden power, like a flame, or a light, or some odd sensation. Figuring my coma would follow that kind of logic, I attempted to turn my senses inward, ignoring the outside world. I set my attention on my breathing, attempting to calm my racing mind with the methodical expansion and contraction of my lungs. I focused on the sensation, a prospect made ever more difficult by the discomfort in my feet. I worked the problem the same way I'd look at a new firewall, searching for any small inconsistencies, any entry point I could exploit to gain access to what was hidden inside.

I continued on in silence, my mind focusing on the sensations in my body for what could've been hours. Every time I thought I was making progress, it would slip from my grasp. If there was anything there, I couldn't sense it. I was tired, frustrated, and in pain, and at this point I was desperately trying to find a way to wake up from this fever dream so I could chew out the guys at the station for not fixing a clearly unsafe electrical system.

As I continued growling to myself, Tempest suddenly stopped moving, pulling me from my thoughts as I nearly ran into her. I looked up to see what had made her pause, only to see sand, sand, and more sand. Tempest was looking around, worry clearly evident on her face. "Impossible," she muttered to herself. "It should be there. The map…"

I watched as Tempest started trotting in circles, examining the desert from multiple angles, her expression of anxiety growing.

"We're lost, aren't we?" I deadpanned.

"I am not lost," Tempest snapped, accurately guessing my question. "This is just a temporary setback. The wrong dune, yes, that's all it is. Wet Sands shall be in sight from the next sand dune!"

"If you say so, oh wise mistress," I quipped as she started trotting up to the next largest dune in our path. It didn't take long to reach it, only a few minutes at the pace she was going, and after some more panicked searching, she insisted it would be visible from the next dune, then the next. After the third dune, I grabbed her tail to keep her from galloping off and getting us even more lost than we already were. The sun was going to start going down soon, and if this desert was anything like the ones I'd heard of on earth, it would be getting very cold, very fast.

"Tempest, stop for a moment," I said, meeting her gaze. "Look at me. Breathe. You're not helping anyone by panicking."

I don't know if it was my tone, my gaze, or the fact that my claws were digging into her shoulders a little, but Tempest actually took my advice and managed to calm down enough that I felt I could release her. After a few moments staring into my eyes, she snorted a little. "You look like some sort of mutated abyssinian," she commented, turning back to scanning the horizon, more calmly this time. "Wet Sands is a coastal town," She said, setting off calmly in a direction not dissimilar from the one we'd been heading all day. "The nearest coast is directly south of here, unless we've managed to travel much farther west than should be possible in a day. From there it should be a simple matter of following the coast until we reach our destination."

“Doesn't the coast go in either direction?” I uselessly pointed out. “You could still end up picking the wrong way.”

“It is not much farther. Do not delay.”

I rolled my eyes and followed her. Step after step. Damn I hate sand. I wished I knew how to turn it to glass. That would've been nicer to walk on, probably. For me, at least.

Luckily for both our sanity, Wet Sands became visible to the South-East just as the sun began its descent, so we didn't have far to travel in the dark. It wasn't a walled town, so we didn't have to worry about curfew or guards stopping us at the gate, which I was quite glad for. At that point, I'm fairly certain both of us would have had no qualms blasting through such an obstruction just for a warm meal and a soft bed. Well, Tempest would. I didn't even know how to spark a simple thunderbolt yet.

Unfortunately things just couldn't be that easy. Arriving just after dark carried its own risks, even without checkpoints and curfews, and there's always going to be that one group of guys ready to take advantage of weary travelers. By the time I'd noticed the shadows between buildings were moving, Tempest had already taken on a defensive posture.

“Well lookie ‘ere,” a growly voice spoke up from one of the shadows. It sounded like someone attempting to speak through a throat full of mud after smoking for fifty years. “Snagged yerself quite the prize, ‘ere, didn'ya, pussy cat? Tall one, too. Betcha she'll fetch a pretty penny down south.”

Pussy cat? Was this shadowed mud smoker talking to me? Did he think I owned Tempest? I was just about to (foolishly) try to correct him when Tempest stepped forward and spoke for herself.

“I am Tempest. Mercenary. I belong to no one. This one,” she tossed her head at me. “Belongs to me. If you have something of value you wish to trade then seek us out in the morning. Until then stay out of our way. I do not have time for games.”

“Oh, I'm afraid I canne do that, mam. Y'see, we're the guard o’ this ‘ere settlement, and we can't go lettin’ a couple'a strangers in past dark wit'out payin’ a toll. Toss over yer bags and we'll let ya by nice ‘n’ easy.”

Tempest narrowed her eyes. “You expect me to simply hand over my possessions to a coward who won't even step out into the light? I think not.”

Tempest started forward, intent on finding an inn, but was stopped by… furries? Scalies? A group of anthropomorphic creatures wielding short swords and knives. Two that looked kind of like fish, three lizardfolk, and one who I swear had to be a kobold. They stepped out of alleyways and stood in our path, quickly surrounding us. I could tell Tempest was trying to put on a brave face, but she was clearly spooked.

“Now, now, no need fer this t'get ugly,” The largest fish-man said. “I’s jus’ sum stuff, innit? Not werth yer lives.”

I met Tempest's eyes. Coma or not, I really didn't want to die here, but I was also tired, hungry, and ready to kill for a hot bath. I could see the same thing in Tempest, despite the fear. Her gaze hardened, and her muscles tensed.

I felt her horn light up before I saw it. I felt it reaching out, a fuzzy rope lashing around until it found the tip of one of the thugs’ weapons. I felt a surge, and a split-second later, the thug was thrown back with a flash and a loud crack! The others looked on in, well, shock, as their companion was flash fried and thrown into a wall, where he lay groaning in pain.

“Anyone else?” Tempest quipped, managing to keep most of the shakiness from her voice.

Mudsmoke obviously was more brawn than brains for this group, as he responded by getting mad and pointing his knife at us. “Gut ‘em!”

Screw that, I thought. These guys wanted to play? I'd play. I lunged towards the leader, ducking to the side as he swung his knife at me. He left a small opening, but I chose not to take it, instead choosing to close the distance slightly more. He drove the point of the blade towards my chest, and I brought up my knee, slamming it into his elbow. Having deflected the stab, I quickly grabbed his fishy wrist and stepped behind him, locking his arm to his back and kicking his knees out from under him. I disarmed him easily, then brought the blade up behind myself to deflect an incoming sword swipe. It succeeded, barely, but set the knife ringing painfully in my grip. I hissed and dropped it, then rolled out of the way of another swing.

I heard another crack! I glanced briefly at Tempest and saw her ducking away from the kobold, who seemed quite adept in the welding of his, or her, two daggers. I turned my attention back to my own fight just in time to dodge a thrust that would've skewered my eyeball had it landed, and found myself backing up towards Tempest. The guy with the sword–turns out it was one of the lizardfolk–quickly helped his boss to his feet, handing him the knife I'd dropped earlier. He looked pissed.

“Well fuck you, too,” I growled, getting a momentary look of confusion from the two. Right. Pokéspeak.

Tempest yelped as she dodged another swing, bumping into me from behind. I felt my fur stand on end as she charged another bolt, causing something to stir in me. I don't remember why I did it; maybe some Zeraora instinct or something, but before Tempest could fire off another shot, I reached back and wrapped my hand around her jagged horn. When she let the bolt go, it surged through me, revitalizing me. Suddenly, I was stronger. The dark, moonlit streets were clearer. My feet no longer burned from hours of dragging them through sand. I felt energized. I felt alive!

I launched myself at the duo, kicking mud face into the sand as I sprang off of him and landed on liz-sword—hey, I had to call them something—and drove my fist into his hard, bony snout. Sure, it hurt a lot, but given the way his face caved in, and the burn marks around the point of impact, I'd say it hurt him quite a bit more.

The lizard dropped like a sack of bricks, and I turned my attention to the kobold still pressuring my companion. It took less than three steps to reach it, but when I went for a tackle, it jumped out of the way, leaping much higher than should have been easily feasible for a creature that size. As I stood up to look for it, a sickle came flying in towards my neck. I barely deflected it, the blade sparking off my fist as I swatted it away. The fish-dude who had swung it paused, staring at his now red-hot blade in fear, before dropping the weapon and booking it down an alleyway.

“Yeah, you better run,” I growled. My thought process was interrupted by another bolt from Tempest, this time crispy-frying the second lizardman. That left just one lizard and the kobold. Where did they even—?

A pair of clawed feet slammed into the back of my head, shoving me forward and making me stumble. I quickly turned around, then leaned back to avoid having my face cut in two. Damn, this kobold was fast! The little bastard avoided my follow-up punch by diving between my legs and slashing at my heels. It hurt like a motherfucker, but I didn't collapse or anything. Guess my anatomy doesn't work that way.

“Mother–!” I hissed, jumping away and clutching my bleeding leg. “Tempest! I could use a zap right about now!”

Tempest did indeed send out another bolt, but it wasn't aimed for me. The last lizardman barely avoided getting the char broil treatment by throwing his weapon at the oncoming bolt. Unfortunately for him, he didn't anticipate it being launched back at him, where it promptly lodged itself in his left leg. On the bright side, it probably cauterized the wound on the way through. That didn't stop his girlish scream, though.

The kobold, noticing they were alone, finally decided to give up the fight. They stood up, took a fucking bow, and ran off into the night, blades tucked away in their clothing. I swore then that if I ever saw them again I'd learn what fried kobold tastes like. Bastard.

“Creature, are you alright?” Tempest asked, rushing up to me.

“What does it look like?” I growled, still holding my legs. Blood had stained my white fur and soaked my hands and feet, and it was still dripping onto the sand beneath me. Tempest quickly dug into her satchel, pulling out a roll of bandages, then set to work trying to wrap my legs. With her mouth. Right, broken horn.

“Let me,” I sighed, taking the roll from her. The bandages smoked a little where my claws made contact, but otherwise didn't combust. I didn't really think about it at the time, instead focusing on cleaning and wrapping the wound as best I could before returning the bandages to Tempest. She seemed surprised by something. I tilted my head and grunted, “what?”

“I did not know you knew how to treat your own injuries,” she admitted. “I underestimated your intelligence.”

“You can say that again,” I huffed.

“Nevertheless, we should find an inn. I doubt that is all the filth such a poorly port town has to offer.”

“Lead the way, oh wise master,” I quipped, wincing as I rose to my feet.

Tempest gave me a strange look. “Why do I feel as though you're mocking me?”

I kept as straight a face as possible. “Zeraora.”

Author's Note

Apologies for the delay. Apparently life is a thing, and I've a bad habit of just disappearing from projects for prolonged periods of time. I can't promise it won't happen again, but I'll try to get as much done as possible before it does. As always, thanks for reading.