Chapter no.34 Seymour And The Clefairy Tribe

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They called him Seymour the Crazy. Behind his back, of course. But he heard them. He always heard them. Pewter City had no shortage of skeptics and dismissive grins whenever he passed by. It was easier for people to laugh and label him a madman than to confront the truth. 

Team Rocket. 

The very name twisted knots in his stomach. If they truly had their sights set on Mt. Moon, the Clefairy tribe was in grave danger. They'd sell them off to the highest bidder like mere commodities—cute faces with price tags. The thought made his blood simmer. 

But funds… the curse of all his ventures. He had barely enough to keep his research afloat, let alone hire a proper mercenary trainer. The type that rented their skills because they couldn't quite make it to the big leagues, those who hovered around the seventh-grade Pokémon ranges. Reliable, maybe, but far too expensive. With every coin counted and most of his grants exhausted, he needed a cheaper, more grassroots solution. 

Standing outside the Pewter City Pokémon League, he could feel every bead of sweat gathering on his brow. The sign he held up felt heavier than it was, like it bore the weight of his desperation. He scribbled out a rhyme, something that might appeal to wandering trainers looking for a quick job: "Hiring for a trek to Mt. Moon's heart, will pay 2000, who's ready to start?" 

The money was all he had to offer. 

Two thousand Pokédollars wasn't much for the trek he had in mind, and certainly not for the risk. As the hours ticked by, most trainers simply glanced his way before hurrying on. They knew, as he did, that Mt. Moon was an untamed labyrinth of danger. Some stopped to inquire, eyes gleaming with thoughts of easy cash. But their interest always fizzled when he mentioned his plans. 

His heart sank a little more with each dismissive reply. He was after the secret Clefairy tribe, the guardians of the secret hidden in the heart of Mt. Moon. Those who truly understood the rhythms of the moonlight… 

He'd almost given up, slumping back on a bench with his shoulders weighed down, when a shadow stopped in front of him. He looked up. A young trainer, his face mostly hidden under the hood of his jacket. The black windbreaker with its red inner lining and the patches on the sleeves looked… lived-in. There was a quiet sense of familiarity about him, not in his face, but in his aura. A vagabond who felt at home in the chaos of the road. 

The trainer said nothing at first, inspecting his sign with the quiet curiosity of someone trying to figure out an obscure riddle. Is he mocking me? The thought flickered in, but something about the way the trainer carried himself made Seymour hold his tongue. Underneath the jacket, he noticed a black and white hoodie—layers on layers, rolled-up pants at the ankles. 

His eyes drifted down, and there was the trainer's Pikachu. Nestled in what looked like a baby carrier, casually slurping on a ketchup packet. A ketchup packet, of all things. He couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. 

Cute, he thought, but it was a peculiar sight. 

"Are you serious about this?" The trainer's voice startled Seymour. It was level, without the mocking tone he'd come to expect. He found himself nodding, perhaps too quickly, as if to convince himself as well. 

"Yes… Yes, I am," he replied, trying to swallow the dryness in his throat. 

For a moment, the trainer seemed to weigh his words, his expression indecipherable beneath the hood. 

The trainer glanced at his Pikachu, who looked bored out of its mind and yet… resigned. Seymour caught a glimpse of a Rattata's tail sticking out from the boy's pocket, twitching as it slept. A Rattata? What sort of team is this guy running? 

"When do we get going?" 

Seymour adjusted his glasses with fingers that betrayed his nerves. His old habit of rhyming took over—something to steady his mind, keep it from racing too far ahead. "Oh, straight to the point, quick to the task! Let's prepare, any questions you ask?" 

"How long?" 

"Until I get my task done?" Seymour responded instinctively, realizing only a moment later how vague that sounded. 

"Which is?" 

"I want you to help me capture a Clefairy, and I'm going to tag it." There. He said it. Not the whole truth yet, but enough for the boy to know the basics. He could see the question brewing in the boy's eyes, and it came right on cue. 

"Tag it?" The boy's voice held the slightest tinge of suspicion. 

Seymour took a breath, steadying his heartbeat. Calm down, Seymour, he told himself. Explain like a professional. "It's a method of attaching a small tracker," he began, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Not harmful, just a way to lead us to the bigger tribe. I'm not going to poach them. I'm a scientist," he assured the boy, fumbling for his identification card with slightly shaky hands. The tags he carried were often used by illegal poachers. 

He held up his card, making sure the boy saw it. "I'm certified," he added, the rhyme slipping naturally into his words. "I study, I track. That's a fact." Too much, Seymour, he chastised himself, but the habit was hard to break when he was anxious. 

The boy's eyes darted between the card and the tags, assessing Seymour for what felt like an eternity. Seymour braced for another round of accusations or, worse, the boy's departure. But instead, the boy nodded slightly, his face showing no sign of disbelief. 

"Don't worry, I believe you," the boy said, and Seymour felt a weight lift off his chest. Before he could even express his relief, the boy continued, "I just had a quick question. Why does poaching exist? Can't they just use a Pokéball?" 

A valid question. One that caught Seymour off guard. Most trainers didn't think to ask that—they just accepted the reality of poaching as an ugly part of the world. 

"Well," Seymour began, adjusting his glasses again, "the answer is simply money. Pokéballs cost a lot. And not just that—raising and catching Pokémon ethically requires time and resources. For some, it's easier to poach and sell Pokémon on the black market. And… many newbie trainers get their first Pokémon from there, bought by their parents because it's cheaper than going out, buying a Pokéball, or paying for a Pokémon ranch." 

The boy nodded, his expression contemplative. His eyes shifted to the ground for a moment, as if weighing Seymour's words, trying to piece together this harsh truth with the ideals he probably held onto. He looked younger then, less the hardened trainer and more a boy burdened by a reality he didn't quite understand. 

There it is again, Seymour thought, observing the boy closely. That odd mix of maturity and youthful curiosity. Something about him seemed old beyond his years. But Seymour knew better than to ask questions; his task was risky enough without probing into his only ally's secrets. 

The boy finally broke the silence, lifting his gaze back to Seymour with a resolute nod. "Whenever you're ready," he said simply, his voice unwavering. 

"Alright," Seymour managed, his own voice steadying at last. "Let's get going then." 

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The route to the Mt. Moon tunnels was as straightforward as they came, but the security was a whole different story. After everything with Team Rocket, the Rangers here weren't messing around, and it wasn't long before Austin found himself standing in a line, the scrutiny of their eyes making his skin itch. Great, he thought, watching the way they were checking every trainer and their Pokémon.

One of the Rangers, a burly guy with an expression that said he didn't have time for anyone's crap, barked out, "All Pokémon for inspection!"

That irked Austin more than it should've. His hand tensed slightly, fingers brushing the edge of Pikachu's carrier. Pikachu gave him a side-eye, his whiskers still smeared with ketchup. It was almost like he was silently telling him, Relax, it's just another day. Easy for Pikachu to say.

"Nothing to worry about?" Austin muttered under his breath, lifting him out for the inspection. The Ranger's eyebrow twitched at the sight of Pikachu's whiskers, but he didn't comment. His eyes drifted over to the lump of fur in Austin's pocket, and he pointed. Austin reached in and gently pulled out the half-asleep Rattata. She was hairless now, shaven down because of those burns—nothing serious, Nurse Joy had sworn.

Your fur will grow back, baby girl, Austin thought, giving her a light rub on the head.

The Ranger's eyebrows shot up, and Austin felt his breath hitch, a split-second panic that every one of these inspections seemed to bring out in him. He handed over the documents Nurse Joy had prepared, making sure his face stayed neutral, like all of this was routine. Nothing to see here, he silently willed the Ranger. Austin had double-checked everything, made sure there were no cracks in the story.

The Ranger glanced at the paperwork and then back at Rattata, his eyes narrowing just slightly. For a moment, Austin thought he was going to press the issue, but he didn't. Probably doesn't get paid enough to care about a hairless Rattata, he told himself as he gently tucked her back into his pocket, her tiny frame relaxing once she was secure again.

Austin released Vee next.

The Ranger gave him a look when Vee shook his head dramatically, making his little wig flutter like a cape. Pikachu rolled his eyes, and Austin could almost feel him judging Vee.

"Pokémon, am I right?" Austin quipped.

"Weirdo," the burly man muttered, the corner of his lip twitching in mild annoyance.

Fuck off, Austin thought, but kept his mouth shut. No sense in stirring the pot.

His mind quickly shifted to Spearow, the last member of the team. He'd made the call to leave him at the Pokémon Center with Nurse Joy. Less attention, fewer questions, and ultimately fewer risks. Even though he could have forged the paperwork if he had to, it wasn't worth the added scrutiny. Always better to play it safe, he reminded himself.

The Ranger moved on to the next trainer, and Austin let out a quiet breath, feeling some of the tension release from his shoulders. This wasn't his first security check, and it probably wouldn't be the last. But it still left a bitter taste in his mouth every time. Just keep moving, he thought, adjusting his bag as he headed further into the tunnel.

As they moved through the checks, Austin noticed Seymour glancing at him, his fingers fiddling nervously with his coat buttons.

"Do you do this often?" Seymour asked.

"What do you mean?" Austin responded, not quite sure what he was trying to get at. They were already entering the tunnel, the air growing colder.

"You have a multi-type team," Seymour clarified, but Austin could tell he was still trying to rhyme something in his head.

What is this old man on about? "Can you explain without rhymes?" Austin asked, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. Seymour's rhyming had a way of gnawing at his patience, especially when he didn't understand half of what the scientist was trying to say.

Seymour paused, then took a breath, his eyes darting away like he was searching for the right words. "Most trainers go for a monotype team because it's easier to train due to similarities in diet, equipment, and routines," he explained, his voice sounding almost relieved to be talking straight.

Okay, that answered a question I didn't even have, Austin thought, his brain clicking through the logic. He'd always chalked it up to preference, but it made sense in a way. Monotype teams meant less hassle, less money spent. Maybe he'd been lucky with Professor Oak's backing.

"Well," Austin said, trying to keep his voice casual, "my sponsor is Professor Oak." He didn't mention the rest; it wasn't worth getting into.

Seymour nodded, looking almost reassured. They finally reached a checkpoint—a small public section of the tunnel that led to multiple different paths. Another Ranger stood waiting, clipboard in hand. Seymour approached him and handed over more documents, his hands trembling just slightly.

The Ranger looked over the papers, nodded, and let them pass into the Pokémon territories. Austin exhaled quietly, his shoulders loosening up a bit. Seymour turned to him, pulling out a large, crinkled map from his coat. The paper rustled noisily as he tried to flatten it against the tunnel wall with a frantic sort of precision.

"Okay, now what?" Austin asked.

Seymour didn't look up, tracing his finger over the map. "From observations I've made, the Clefairy tribe stays out of sight, atop Mt. Moon, they seek moonlight, to bathe their forms in silver bright," he recited, eyes wide with something bordering on excitement. He looked like he was waiting for the boy to acknowledge his little poetic verse.

"Can we please drop the rhymes?" Austin deadpanned, hoping it didn't come off too harsh.

Seymour blinked at him, then nodded sheepishly. For the first time since they met, he actually looked like a regular person—a scientist with too many worries and not enough answers.

They immediately got into discussing the territories where Clefairy were most likely to be spotted. Seymour seemed to have the whole area mapped out in his head, rambling about moonlight patterns and energy fields. Austin just nodded, letting him lead the conversation while he broke a glow stick. The tunnel ahead was dark—the kind of dark that presses in on all sides—but the faint green glow gave them just enough light to see a few steps ahead. Vee took point, eyes sharp and ears twitching at the slightest noise.

"Pika, Pi," Pikachu muttered from his spot in the carrier, looking restless. 

"No," Austin said firmly. "You need the rest. Vee's got this." Pikachu sighed dramatically, turning away as if to make a point. Austin would have to deal with that attitude later, but right now, keeping the team in good shape was priority number one.

They went deeper into the tunnel, and it didn't take long before the first wild Pokémon showed up—a Zubat, wings flapping frantically in the dim light. Vee sprang forward, making quick work of it with a swift strike. The little guy was proving to be a powerhouse in his own right. From what Austin had noticed, Vee could use all the moves of his potential evolutions, just without the usual boost a Pokémon got from their type specialty. No big deal, though—he still managed to one-shot anything that crossed their path.

Pikachu watched with an irritated flick of his tail. Austin could see the jealousy simmering there. Pikachu wasn't used to being outdone, and Vee's growing versatility was clearly getting under his fur. 

Seymour broke the silence, his voice laced with curiosity. "Where do you think Pokémon come from, Austin?"

Austin blinked, thrown off by the question. What kind of conversation starter is that? His memory of Seymour's theories from the anime was vague at best. Seymour was obsessed with some weird stuff, but Austin hadn't expected to actually run into him.

"Uh…" he hesitated, trying to figure out what to say. Seymour took the pause as an opportunity to dive headfirst into his lecture.

"Ever since I was young," he began, his voice gaining a touch of enthusiasm, "I used to look up at the skies and wonder about Pokémon. I believe they came from space."

"From space?" Austin echoed, not quite sure what to make of it.

"Yes," Seymour continued, eyes bright with the kind of excitement only true believers have. "And where do they come from, you might ask? The Moon Stone! Hidden deep within Mt. Moon is a massive Moon Stone—a spaceship, in a way, that brought them here."

Austin forced a polite smile, not wanting to be rude. "Well… That's certainly an original theory."

Seymour's face fell slightly. "You don't believe me, do you?"

Austin sighed internally. "Look," he chose to lie, "not to brag or anything, but my sponsor is Professor Oak. So, I've been around some of the best theories on the planet."

Seymour didn't miss a beat, his enthusiasm undampened. "Knowledge is a treasure, meant to be shared. Theories are just starting points to uncovering new truths."

Well, that backfired immediately, Austin thought, running a hand through his hair. Alright, if this is how it's gonna be, I'm going to school this man.

He could almost hear his older brother's voice ringing in his head. Oi, useless Pokémon encyclopedia. His brother never missed a chance to throw that at him whenever Austin went off on a rant about something he found boring. But this time, it wasn't his brother. It was his own voice pushing him forward, daring him to show off a little.

"First," Austin began, making sure to sound as casual as possible, "have you heard of Arceus, bearer of the universe's genesis?"

The name caught Seymour off guard, and even Pikachu stopped sulking long enough to perk up his ears. Guess I have their attention now, Austin thought, feeling a small spark of satisfaction.

"What Pokémon is Arceus?" Seymour asked, his curiosity overriding that habit of his to rhyme everything.

Austin let a slight smile creep onto his face. "Arceus is a Legendary Pokémon from the Sinnoh Region. It's said to be the God Pokémon, the one who created three others: Dialga, Palkia, and Giratina." He noticed Seymour's eyes widen slightly as he mentioned each name. Hooked, he thought, and kept going.

"Dialga became the Master of Time, and Palkia became the Master of Space—two of the world's foundations," Austin explained, enjoying the way Seymour hung on his words. "But Giratina… Giratina was banished to a place called the Reverse World because it was too violent. After those three, Arceus created another trio: Azelf, Uxie, and Mesprit. They represent Willpower, Knowledge, and Emotions."

Seymour's brow furrowed as if he was trying to make sense of it all. "I've never heard of these Pokémon," he admitted, his voice tinged with genuine curiosity rather than doubt.

"Well," Austin replied, letting out a small chuckle, "they're only the beginning. After that, Arceus created three more: Groudon, Kyogre, and Rayquaza during the Earth's early days. Groudon shaped the land, Kyogre ruled the sea, and Rayquaza commanded the skies. They're known as the Weather Trio."

Austin could feel Pikachu's eyes on him, almost as if he were rolling them. Yeah, yeah, I know, showing off, he thought, half-expecting Pikachu to sigh dramatically.

"When Groudon stirs, the sun blazes harshly. When Kyogre moves, rain falls endlessly. Rayquaza was the only one strong enough to end their fights, with help from the Regi Trio," he continued.

"Regi Trio?" Seymour asked, his voice barely a whisper now.

"Yep. Regirock, Regice, and Registeel," Austin said, listing them like he'd done a thousand times before. "And Regigigas, who's rumored to have moved continents. Then there's Mew, said to be the ancestor of all Pokémon."

Seymour's expression changed, and Austin could see something like a challenge flash across his eyes. "What proof do you have of any of this?" Seymour asked, and it wasn't just a question—it was a test. He was weighing Austin's claims against his own beliefs, trying to see if this kid was just repeating stories or if there was substance behind his words.

Austin felt a flicker of annoyance, and the urge to throw a question back at Seymour about his wild theories was almost overwhelming. What proof do you have of Clefairy coming from the Moon, huh? he thought, biting back the words. But he took a breath, forcing himself to think. Seymour wasn't just some guy with quirky ideas—he was someone deeply invested in his theories. He had a stake in them, a sense of self wrapped up in his beliefs. Disputing them outright would be like tearing a piece of himself away.

So, instead, Austin took a step back. "I don't know," he said, letting his voice drop slightly. "I heard it from some guy a long time ago. Then again, I'm not a scientist, so I'll leave the evidence-gathering to you all."

Seymour studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. There was no sense of victory in his expression, just a quiet acceptance. He wasn't looking for someone to shatter his worldview; he just wanted someone to listen. Maybe he wasn't as different from Austin as he thought.

"Fair enough," Seymour said quietly, his voice free from that usual sing-song rhythm.

Their sharp calls came simultaneously.

"Pika!"

"Eve!"

Austin's head snapped in the direction of their cries, and there it was—a Clefairy, just standing a short distance away. It was so cute seeing one up close. The pink, chubby creature looked straight out of a fairytale, with its star-shaped body and those delicate, almost childlike features. Its large, pointed ears twitched, and the small wings on its back fluttered nervously, like it was ready to bolt at the slightest disturbance.

"Seymour, close your eyes!" Austin barked, not sparing a second.

Clefairy turned to look at them, its eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and fear. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for what came next. Pikachu didn't need further instructions. His cheeks began to spark, the electric energy building up until—flash. A bright burst of light erupted, flooding the entire cavern in a blinding glow. Austin could see the flash through his closed eyelids, and a brief thought crossed his mind—that had to sting.

The Clefairy let out a startled squeal, blinded by Pikachu's improvised flashbang.

"Mud trap!" Austin called out.

Vee sprang into action, first kicking up a cloud of dirt with Sand Attack, then immediately following it up with a Water Pulse. Mud splashed over the Clefairy, disorienting it further as Vee darted forward and pinned the creature against the wall. Vee wasn't holding back; he had Clefairy pressed with enough force to keep it from struggling, but not enough to hurt it.

"Seymour, now!" Austin shouted, not daring to open his eyes fully yet.

He heard Seymour shuffle closer, but instead of moving to tag the Pokémon, he started murmuring something under his breath, his voice taking on this weird, reverent tone.

"O starry sprite of moonlit grace,

before thee now I bow my face.

In humble stance, I seek thy lore,

'neath lunar glow forevermore," he chanted.

Austin risked a glance, peeking through one eye, and saw Seymour… bowing? Hands making these weird gestures, his face a mix of awe and excitement.

What the hell is he doing?! Austin thought, feeling a surge of frustration.

"Tag it!" Austin nearly yelled, snapping Seymour out of his little trance.

"Oh, right!" Seymour muttered, fumbling with the tags as if he'd suddenly remembered what he was supposed to do. He reached into his bag, pulling out the tracking device—a small, delicate piece of tech that fit neatly in the palm of his hand. His hands shook slightly as he set it up, his fingers moving clumsily over the controls.

Why is he so slow with this? Austin thought, practically vibrating with impatience.

Just as Seymour got the tag ready, there was a shrill cry, and Vee was suddenly thrown backward by a barrage of pink circles—hearts? Clefairy must have used a move he didn't recognize. Vee skidded to a halt in front of him, steadying himself as the Clefairy wriggled free, looking ready to bolt.

Dammit. Plan B. Because of course, he always had a Plan B.

He reached into his bag and pulled out the Moon Stone he'd gotten from those prisoners earlier. It wasn't a big one, but it was genuine, and if his anime knowledge was right, this would catch the Clefairy's attention. He held it up, keeping his voice low and calm.

"You want this, right?" he said, keeping his voice steady, eyes locked on the Clefairy.

His mind raced, trying to piece together memories from the anime. He didn't remember every single plot point, but one thing stuck with him: the Clefairy of Mt. Moon gathering small Moon Stones and arranging them in a circle around the giant one. They treated it like some kind of ritual or tradition. It was a gamble, really—just a theory based on half-remembered episodes. But it was the only leverage he had in this situation, and that's why Plan B existed.

If this Clefairy didn't have a Moon Stone, offering it one might be the only way to earn its cooperation. And if it didn't work… well, he'd figure out something else. He always did.

The Clefairy's eyes flickered between him and the stone, its escape forgotten for the moment as it stared, almost entranced. Austin could see it weighing its options.

That's right, come on… just focus on the shiny rock.

He leaned down to Pikachu and whispered, "Pikachu, tell Clefairy he can have this Moon Stone if he takes us to the moon cave. And mention Bagboy, okay?" He didn't want Seymour hearing the last part, so he made sure to say it quietly.

Pikachu nodded, slipping away from him and starting to chatter to the Clefairy in that weird way Pokémon seemed to understand each other. Austin couldn't make out their conversation, but Clefairy's expression seemed to soften as it listened.

Seymour, oblivious to the low-key negotiation happening, asked, "But what about the tag?"

Austin held back an eye roll. "Well, don't you want to see the mothership?" he said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

But then, he saw the look on Seymour's face—real, genuine longing. He wasn't joking. To him, this wasn't just some wild theory; it was something real, something he needed to see with his own eyes. For a second, Austin almost felt bad about the snark.

And then it hit him: the only reason Seymour was out here, risking his neck, was because he believed in this giant Moon Stone. He wanted to see it for himself, to prove he wasn't just another crazy man with wild ideas. Austin got that. Hell, in a way, it was a feeling he knew all too well.

Taking a breath, Austin shook his head, trying to refocus.

The Clefairy looked contemplative, its gaze shifting between the Moon Stone in his hand and Pikachu.

Vee had been a champ so far, so Austin handed him two berries and pointed toward the Clefairy. He took the hint, padding up to the pink Pokémon and offering one of the berries like a peace token. The Clefairy looked wary at first, but a few nods and gentle words from Pikachu seemed to ease its nerves. After a moment, Pikachu turned to Austin, giving him a little thumbs up. He felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Looks like we're good.

Then, something unexpected happened. The small wings on the Clefairy's back began to glow, almost like they were reflecting moonlight. But that wasn't all. Another source of light caught Austin's eye, as the Moon Stone in his backpack was shining brightly, resonating with the Clefairy's wings. Whoa…

"Fairy!" the Clefairy cried out. Without hesitation, Austin handed it over. The Clefairy clutched it tightly, and before he could react, it swallowed the Moon Stone in one swift gulp. His heart skipped a beat. Wait, was it supposed to do that?

But then the Clefairy's wings burst into light, a soft pink aura enveloping its whole body. The little Pokémon lifted off the ground, floating like it weighed nothing at all. Austin watched, awestruck, as it started to lead the way deeper into the cave, hovering gracefully. It wasn't long before Seymour and he followed, both of them a bit dumbstruck as they tried to keep up with the floating guide. It was like the lightness in the air seeped into them too, because even their steps felt lighter.

And that's when it hit Austin. The Clefairy tribe had remained hidden all this time because… they could fly. Not in the typical sense, like a Pidgey flapping its wings, but more like being lifted by some unseen force. They probably needed this ability to access the deeper, more secluded areas of their cave.

They arrived at the Clefairy tribe's cave, and at first glance, it looked like any other cave you'd stumble across on a hike—damp stone walls, the occasional stalactite, and a musty, earthy smell that clung to the air. But as they moved further in, it became clear that this place was anything but ordinary.

In the heart of the cave, a massive hole opened up in the ceiling, like a window carved by nature itself. Moonlight poured through, not in thin beams, but in a broad, glowing cascade, illuminating the cavern's center. It felt almost alive, the light breathing softly in time with the cave's heartbeat. There, in the middle of it all, stood a crystal.

It wasn't just any crystal—it was enormous, easily a dozen times Austin's height, with facets that gleamed like polished marble. It had this pale blue hue, almost milky in texture, but it seemed to catch the moonlight and bend it, refracting it into a million tiny shimmering fragments that danced across the walls. It looked ancient, like it had been growing here for centuries, absorbing the essence of every full moon it had ever seen. Around its base, smaller shards of the same crystal were scattered like fragments of some celestial event long forgotten.

The moonlight's reflection off the crystal created an almost magical aura, filling the air with a melodious hum, as if the stone itself was singing a lullaby.

All around the crystal, there were dozens of Clefairy, Cleffa, and Clefable. They were positioned in small groups, almost like families, their wings fluttering nervously as Austin and Seymour approached. Their eyes, wide and glinting in the moonlight, followed their every move. Austin felt the tension build, his shoulders tightening as he saw some of the older Clefable move into defensive stances. They're ready to protect their home. Can't say I blame them.

Austin glanced over at Seymour, who seemed just as awestruck by the sight. His eyes were practically glued to the giant crystal, and for a moment, Austin wondered if he even noticed the potential danger.

Thankfully, their Clefairy guide took the initiative. It floated forward, wings still glowing faintly, and began to talk to the other members of the tribe. Austin couldn't make out the words—it was more of a series of melodic hums and soft chirps—but he could feel the tension ease slightly as the others listened.

Suddenly, something tugged at Austin's pants leg. He looked down to find a tiny Cleffa. These small, pink Pokémon, star-shaped and endearing with their brown ears and stubby limbs, waddled close to his legs. Each Cleffa's cheeks were tinged with a permanent blush, their eyes bright and curious. As Austin offered them berries, they chirped and cooed delightfully, their tiny voices filled with joy as they accepted the treats.

One Cleffa, bouncing on its little feet, gave what Austin could only describe as a silent plea to dance. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. How could I say no to that?

"Come on, let's dance!" Austin said, turning to his Pokémon with a lively spark in his eyes.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Seymour's intense gaze. He didn't say anything, but the look he gave practically screamed, Don't mess this up, kid. But Austin was undeterred. If he'd learned one thing from Pokémon, it's that trust often comes from genuine connection.

He turned to Rattata with a teasing grin. "My bald lady, would you like to dance?"

Rattata, clearly not in the mood for such formalities, lightly tackled Austin to the ground. He laughed, sprawling on his back as the Cleffa swarmed around, looking worried. Austin picked up one of the little ones, tossing it gently into the air and catching it safely. The baby Pokémon giggled, and that was all the encouragement the others needed. Soon, more Cleffa were around him, each demanding their turn.

From a distance, Austin noticed an older Clefable watching the scene unfold. Her eyes were cautious, almost judging, but there was a glimmer of something else—curiosity? Maybe even acceptance. Pikachu caught his attention, using his usual charades to fill him in on the details.

Apparently, humans weren't usually allowed inside their sacred cave. It was forbidden. But they were making an exception for Austin because he'd helped fend off Team Rocket and saved their land. Plus, Clefairy had recognized him as the human who took a Moon Stone with good intentions. Looks like having that stone worked in my favor.

Austin kept playing with the Cleffa, and as time passed, the tension in the air began to fade.

Then, something magical started to happen. A circle of Clefairy gathered, their small wings catching the dim light of the cavern. They weren't just jumping around like the anime had shown; this was more like a ritual—every movement synchronized with the next, their wings fluttering in perfect unison. Each Clefairy moved gracefully, swaying in a rhythmic pattern that felt almost like a waltz. They'd step forward on the tips of their toes, their tiny feet barely touching the ground, then sway back and lift off, their wings creating delicate ripples of air. The moonlight seemed to cling to them, reflecting off their pink bodies in soft, silvery hues.

My god, the anime did this dirty, Austin thought, feeling a smile spread across his face. On TV, this scene had just been a bunch of Clefairy bouncing up and down. But seeing it in person, he could feel the intent behind each step, each wing beat.

As he watched, their bodies started to glow, that same pinkish aura enveloping them as they completed their dance. One by one, they began to evolve, their forms growing and shifting until they stood as Clefable. Each one seemed to hold a silent dignity as if this transformation was a fulfillment of a purpose known only to them.

This is it, Seymour thought, clenching his fists so tightly he could feel his nails digging into his palms. This is my chance to prove them all wrong.

Years of being dismissed and ridiculed as "Seymour the Crazy" weighed heavily on him. The whispers, the scoffs, the barely-hidden smirks—each one etched into his memory. But here, within these sacred tunnels, he had the opportunity to shatter those labels. I'm so close, he thought. Just a little more, and I'll have everything I need to show the truth about the Clefairy tribe.

Yet, there he was—this boy, playing casually with the Cleffas, losing focus. Seymour's heart pounded in his chest, urgency tightening around him like a vice. He needed the boy to take this seriously. Austin didn't realize the stakes. This wasn't just an adventure or some exciting story for his next battle—it was the culmination of Seymour's life's work. His validation. The key to escaping this suffocating label of being a fool chasing fairy tales.

"Boy, stop this at once!" he shouted, unable to keep the sharpness out of his voice. "Focus! There's more to do here!"

The words rang out louder than he intended, startling the Cleffas and causing Austin to turn with a deep frown, his expression shadowed in the dim light.

Before Seymour could recover or soften his tone, the cavern fell eerily silent. The Clefairy circle had stilled, all eyes drawn toward a single Clefairy that collapsed in the clearing. The Moon Stone's glow faded, and the soft crystalline hum that had filled the space came to an abrupt halt.

"Oh no," Austin muttered under his breath, concern crossing his face as he focused on the fallen Clefairy.

Seymour felt his breath catch in his throat, and every rational part of him screamed to stop, to reassess, but the pressure of the moment and the desperation to validate his theories kept driving him forward.

His voice quivered, almost in prayer, as he stepped forward, trying to appeal to the heavens or to whatever celestial beings might bear witness. "Oh great Clefairy Tribe, up high in your shuttle, reveal your craft, and end this confusion. Show the world the truth so vital, confirm a Clefairy's role is not just idle."

A part of him knew how he must have sounded—like a madman begging for proof. But it didn't matter. All the ridicule, all the whispers, the countless times he was humiliated... They would all end today. I'll make them see, he thought desperately.

Before he could say more, he felt a sharp, searing pain explode across his jaw. His head snapped to the side, and he stumbled backward, collapsing to the cold cave floor. The world spun, and it took him a moment to register what had happened. When he looked up, he saw Austin standing over him, fists clenched, his eyes burning with an intensity Seymour hadn't seen before.

"You don't have any shame, do you?" Austin snarled, voice thick with barely-contained fury.

His words cut deep, sharper than the blow to Seymour's face. He could feel the sting spreading from his jaw to the back of his head, his fingers trembling as he clutched the side of his face. Seymour had expected many things—disbelief, even more ridicule—but not this. Not an open display of rage at his expense.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How did it come to this? he thought, bewildered by how everything had spiraled so quickly.

"What?" Seymour managed to stammer.

Austin's frustration was like a physical force pressing down on him. His finger pointed sharply at the Clefairy, who was now surrounded by other Pokémon, trying to comfort it. "You don't get it, you idiot!" Austin snapped. "Because of your shouting, Clefairy couldn't finish evolving!"

The words hit Seymour like a punch to the gut. His voice caught in his throat, and he could barely form a coherent response. "I-I just wanted to see the space shuttle," he muttered, his voice weak and unconvincing even to himself. The truth was, all he could think about was validating his theories, proving that he wasn't just some delusional fool.

Austin's anger didn't subside; it only seemed to deepen. He squared up to Seymour, eyes boring into his with an intensity that made him want to shrink away. "What proof do you have that that—" Austin gestured aggressively toward the Moon Stone, "—is a freaking space shuttle?"

"I-I was… looking for proof," Seymour stammered again, his voice faltering under the weight of Austin's glare. Why can't I explain myself? he thought, a wave of panic rising in his chest. Everything was slipping away from him, everything he'd worked for.

"You're a pathetic loser... Calling yourself a scientist," Austin sneered, his words dripping with disdain. He gestured broadly around the cavern, his voice cutting through Seymour like a blade. "Look around you. There's such beauty, such culture, and so many questions that a real scientist would be asking. Why don't these Clefairy immediately evolve in the presence of the Moon Stone? Why do they dance? Why now? But for you, none of that matters as long as you get to chase some inkling of proof for your preconceived notions."

Each question Austin posed felt like a spotlight being shined on Seymour's ignorance. His face contorted involuntarily, and he could feel a mix of denial and guilt swelling within him. Why hadn't I thought of those questions? Why had he been so obsessed with the idea of a "space shuttle" that he'd overlooked everything else?

Austin's words struck harder than he could bear. "You aren't a scientist," Austin said, his voice quieter now but filled with an unyielding finality. "You're a fanatic."

The truth in Austin's words weighed on Seymour, pressing down like an unbearable burden. He wanted to deny it, to argue, to find some way to make the boy see that his theories weren't just fantasies. But as he looked at the Clefairy, still recovering from the disrupted dance, and at the Moon Stone that had lost its glow, he couldn't escape the stark reality.

Seymour felt his shoulders slump, the weight of his own foolishness crashing down on him. For so long, he had clung to his beliefs, thinking they would lead him to recognition and respect. But here, in the depths of Mt. Moon, he couldn't hide from the truth anymore. He wasn't a scientist; he was just a man chasing after shadows, blinded by his own desperation.

The realization was like a dagger twisting in his chest. He couldn't stay there, couldn't bear the look of contempt in Austin's eyes. He needed to escape. His legs moved before his mind could catch up, and he scampered ahead, trying to put distance between them. His movements were clumsy, frantic, but he didn't care. All he knew was that he had to get away—from Austin, from the Pokémon, from this crushing sense of failure that threatened to consume him.

I just wanted them to see... to understand, he thought, tears blurring his vision as he ran blindly through the tunnel.

Seymour felt like a cornered animal, all too aware of the sneers and whispers waiting for him back in Pewter City—Seymour the Crazy, Seymour the Fool. Then a sharp, high-pitched sound cut through his spiraling thoughts. The air shimmered with sparkling energy as Pikachu's Swift attack embedded stars in the ground in front of him, effectively blocking his way. He stopped dead, breathing hard, his face hot with a mix of frustration, shame, and exhaustion.

"Where are you running off to, you idiot?" Austin's voice came again, cold and cutting. "Can't handle being wrong?"

Seymour wheeled around, his body trembling, and before he could stop himself, the words came pouring out. "I can't be wrong, not about this! My entire career, my beliefs—they hinge on this truth!" His voice echoed in the cavern, and he hated how small and desperate it sounded. Everything hinges on this, he thought, as if saying it louder would make it real.

He expected the boy to snap back, to berate him again. But instead, Austin sighed—a deep, heavy sigh that seemed to fill the cavern with its weight. He took a step forward, his voice softer now, almost gentle

"My father once told me that there's no shame in being wrong, but there is shame in staying wrong," he said. "So what if your theories were off? Look," he gestured toward the Clefairy tribe, who were huddled together, watching them with cautious eyes. "You have an entire different avenue to explore here."

Seymour followed his gaze, and the realization of what he had done hit him like a tidal wave. The Clefairy were still reeling from the disrupted ritual, and it was his fault. He had wanted so desperately to prove something that he hadn't even considered the consequences for them. I've wronged them, he thought, the shame settling like a heavy stone in his chest. His legs buckled, and he sank to his knees, the weight of it all too much to bear. I'm nothing but a fool—a reckless fool.

"But I have wronged them," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Yes," Austin replied, his voice steady and sincere, "but that doesn't mean you can't make things right." He reached out a hand, and Seymour looked up to see a different expression in the boy's eyes—one not of anger, but of understanding. "I'm going to need the help of Seymour the scientist, not Seymour the Crazy. How can we help the Clefairy evolve?"

Seymour stared at the outstretched hand, feeling a flicker of something that had long been buried—hope. His fingers trembled as he wiped away the tears that had blurred his vision, the shame still lingering but slowly giving way to something else: resolve. You have a chance to fix this, Seymour. Don't waste it.

He took Austin's hand, feeling the firm grip as the boy helped him to his feet. He's just a kid, really, Seymour thought, but in this moment, he seems far wiser than his years. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.

"Let's get to work then," Seymour said, his words steady despite the turmoil still churning inside him.

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"Pokémon evolution," Seymour began, adjusting his glasses. "It's typically driven by a specific trigger—a catalyst that releases an instinctual aura within their bodies, causing a transformation."

He glanced at Austin, who was listening intently, his arms crossed but eyes sharp with curiosity. Good, he thought, relieved the boy hadn't checked out of this conversation yet. "For most Clefairy, that trigger is a Moon Stone," he continued, "but the Clefairy tribe here in Mt. Moon is different. Over time, their evolutionary trigger has shifted from the stone itself to something far more unique—environmental factors." He paused, waiting for Austin's reaction.

"What kind of factors?" the boy asked.

"Here, it involves the sound created when moonlight interacts with a large Moon Stone crystal during a full moon," Seymour explained, bracing himself for more questions.

Austin didn't disappoint. "Sound from moonlight? How does that work?"

Seymour felt a flicker of gratitude for the question—this was familiar territory, something rooted in actual science. "It's similar to a concept known as sonoluminescence," he said, trying to keep his excitement in check. "That's when sound waves in a liquid create bursts of light. Here, under specific conditions of the full moon, the Moon Stone generates sound waves that resonate at a frequency I believe could trigger the Clefairy's evolution. Their biology has adapted to this unique harmonic."

Austin nodded thoughtfully. "So, what's the plan?"

Seymour took a steadying breath. The plan was simple in theory, but execution would be everything. "We need to refract moonlight onto the giant Moon Stone using Pikachu's and Rattata's Iron Tail moves. The light should trigger the resonance we need," he explained, trying to ignore the knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.

Austin's expression shifted from curiosity to amazement as Seymour laid out the specifics, his eyes widening as he processed what the scientist was suggesting. But then Seymour saw a flicker of hesitation and knew he had to keep the boy focused. "Hey," he said firmly, "stay with me."

Austin nodded, jaw clenched with determination as he positioned Pikachu and Rattata as instructed. Seymour's hands trembled as he double-checked the calculations, the angles, and the timing. Everything has to be perfect. He could feel the sweat gathering on his brow as he adjusted their positions, trying to control his breathing.

"Okay," Seymour said, his voice barely a whisper. "Now."

The two Pokémon reflected the moonlight with their Iron Tail attacks, and Seymour held his breath as a beam of moonlight refracted off them and struck the Moon Stone at the calculated angle. He felt the tension release from his chest in a rush, and for the briefest of moments, everything seemed to hold still, suspended in expectation.

Then, it happened. The Moon Stone absorbed the light and began to emit a soft, melodic tone—a perfect harmony that filled the cavern. The sound resonated deep within Seymour, almost like a physical presence, and he could see it in the Clefairy too. They started to react, their small bodies lifting off the ground, carried by the sound as if they were weightless. Seymour watched, his breath catching as one of the Clefairy began to twirl in the air, a soft pink aura enveloping it.

The transformation was gradual yet mesmerizing. The fairy Pokémon's silhouette shimmered in the magical light, growing taller, more elegant. Seymour couldn't look away. All his doubts, his fears—everything melted into that moment, into the graceful dance of light and evolution.

"Clefable," Austin whispered, his voice barely audible, as if speaking any louder would break the spell.

Seymour turned to Austin, the lingering adrenaline making his hands shake. "Do you have a spare PokéBall? I promise I'll pay you back."

Without missing a beat, the boy reached into his bag and handed Seymour a PokéBall. He didn't ask questions, didn't hesitate. Just… trusted him. Seymour nodded, trying to express his gratitude without words, and turned back toward the Clefable and its tribe, the smooth, cold surface of the PokéBall pressing into his palm like a lifeline.

His heart felt like it was pounding in his ears. As he approached, the Clefable watched him closely, their tribe huddled protectively around them. Seymour swallowed hard, pushing down the impulse to retreat into the safety of his usual rhymes. This wasn't the time for hiding behind words.

"When I was a little boy," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "my grandmother used to tell me stories of a Clefairy godmother who would grant the wishes of good children." The memories felt almost foreign to him now, like they belonged to someone else, some other life. "I was always enchanted by Clefairy," he continued, willing his voice to stay steady. "It hurt to see how they were dismissed by most trainers, mocked as 'fake fairies' just because of their normal typing."

He paused, bowing deeply to the tribe, feeling the weight of the moment press heavily on his back. "I vowed to reveal their true significance to the world," he confessed, "but I realize now that my methods may have been… misguided."

When Seymour straightened up, the Clefable who had led them to this sacred spot walked forward, a soft smile crossing its face. It seemed to understand him, or at least his intent. His heart raced with a desperate hope as he extended the PokéBall toward it. "Would you help me show the world how incredible Clefairy can be?" he asked.

Clefable's eyes shimmered, and suddenly, a glowing orb of light formed between its hands. Then, the rest of the tribe joined in, each Clefairy conjuring a similar sphere of light. The entire cavern came alive, the air filling with these shimmering orbs that pulsed gently, as if with their own heartbeat. Seymour felt like he was standing within a living, breathing dream—one that might slip away if he even dared to blink.

Austin stood beside him, eyes wide with awe. "What move is this?" the boy murmured.

Pikachu sniffed cautiously at the glowing spheres, curious yet wary, while Rattata seemed torn between fascination and an impulse to jump up and pop them. Vee, though, remained perfectly still, his gaze almost reverent as if he sensed something in the orbs beyond their physical glow. A shift in their aura—something new, something different.

The move was unmistakable: Moonblast—a Fairy-type move. A type that wasn't known in this region—couldn't be found anywhere on this continent at all.

Seymour's mind raced, piecing together fragments of knowledge and observation until a new, groundbreaking hypothesis took shape. The Clefairy of Mt. Moon had evolved beyond their normal classification. These Clefairy—these Clefable—were true fairies, not just Normal-types. The realization washed over him like a wave, and he felt tears welling up in his eyes.

He was so lost in the spectacle that the soft sound of a 'cling' startled him. He glanced down, and his breath caught in his throat. Clefable had touched the PokéBall, accepting him. The orbs around them began to burst, one by one, into a glittering shower of light. It was like watching the stars themselves explode in celebration.

"I can prove to the world that Kanto's Clefairy are true fairies," he murmured, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Not just Normal-types."

The 'ting' of the PokéBall locked in the moment of acceptance, and suddenly, cheers erupted around him.

Austin turned to Seymour, his face still showing a mixture of confusion and awe. "What's a Fairy type?"

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Author's Note:

Hey guys!

So, if you grew up with Pokémon, you probably remember that Clefairy was originally a Normal-type, but when Gen 6 rolled around, it got reclassified as a Fairy-type. I wanted to take that change and weave it into the story in a way that fits the world. Here's the idea: in the Japanese continent—Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, and Sinnoh—Fairy-type Pokémon aren't a thing yet, so Clefairy is still considered a Normal-type there. Because of that, some trainers mock it as a "fake fairy" Pokémon.

But in Mt. Moon, things are different. I thought it would be cool to have the Clefairy tribe evolve in such a way that they actually gain the Fairy typing. This gives Seymour a new purpose—he's not just chasing his old theory, but now trying to show the world the existence of these "true fairies" of Kanto.

I also wanted this to be a moment for Austin, who in chapter one was watching the black-and-white anime (set in Gen 5), to learn what the Fairy type is. It felt like a fun way to sneak in Game Freak's type changes and show how the world of Pokémon evolves.

What did you guys think of Seymour's character? I tried to make him feel more real and fleshed out, similar to what I did with Nobunaga or Samurai Boy in the Viridian Forest. Did it work for you? I'd love to know your thoughts!

Oh, and if you're curious about the sound the Moon Stone was making, go to YouTube and look up "Hollow Knight: Crystal Peak soundtrack."

That's the kind of vibe I was going for!

Thanks so much for sticking with my work. Your support and feedback mean the world to me. Have an awesome day, and I can't wait to hear what you think in the comments!