Chapter 7 – Day 4, Part 1: Stubborn

Chapter 7 – Day 4, Part 1: Stubborn

Check…check for enemies…stay…ignited…warm…warm…war…wha?

Fenn was nudged from his slumber by the blinding rays of the sun the next morning. As much as he appreciated the additional heat on his fur, it didn’t help him sleep any better when it was right in his eyes. He blinked and shifted himself away from the light streaming in from the window.

Must be morning, he thought. Fenn sat up onto his paws and stretched, extending his arms high above his head. Unlike the day before, he felt refreshingly awake. Also unlike the day before, his Dewott teammate was still asleep, his bed closer to the wall compared to the previous morning.

Fenn looked at Oswald, deep in thought. He seems to be adapting well. The Quilava mentally kicked himself. Of course Oswald is handling this well! We haven’t even gotten started yet!

Their first real job was today, and there weren’t going to be any handicaps this time. Wherever the two of them went from this day forward, Team Lavender would face new challenges.

…Fenn was nervous.

He had made it seem like he was ready the day before—that was what he had told himself—but Fenn hardly believed his own words. There would be no excuses for failure because there was nothing he couldn’t burn with his flames…right?

But what if he did fail? What then? Just then, he thought back to his conversation with Anemone two months ago and his heart sank. Would he go back to cleaning floors in shame? Would Oswald’s opinion of him change?

Fenn thought back on the Dewott. Oswald’s words of encouragement meant a lot to Fenn; he had never had a friend like him before. The fire type would always stay home, practice his techniques with his dad, and fix the house when it would inevitably burn down. Fenn had never made an honest effort to meet new pokemon in his life.

Spending time with his teammate was something he had taken for granted, and the last thing he wanted was for him to lose that.

And then there were his parents. The thought of them was enough to make his ears fall flat against his head.

Fenn couldn’t bear the thought of disappointing them. His dad in particular expected him to be a strong and righteous explorer. If he got to work and it turned out he was nothing but a screw up…?

The Quilava shook his head. I’m not a screw up! I just got a slow start! I’m a warrior! And besides, who’s really at fault for not exploring until now? Certainly not me! Anemone just didn’t believe in me!

He almost wished he had thought of that back when he went home a couple of days ago. Fenn also wished he didn’t actually believe that it was all his fault all along. It wouldn’t surprise him in the slightest if it was.

…I miss grandpa. He…he would’ve believed in me…

With a deep sigh, Fenn softly padded over to the window. The windowsill held the two small flower pots that he had requested from the front desk yesterday. He sat with his arms resting on the windowsill as he watched the pots with interest. Nothing sprouted from the soil. Yet.

Fenn had taken some seeds from the lavender he had picked a couple days ago and planted them in the soil the day before. It would take some time for them to grow. Around two weeks…maybe? Maybe longer…? Maybe even…shorter…? Fenn wasn’t particularly well versed in the art of growing plants. Having some lavender to call his own made him excited, though. Ever since he had first laid his eyes on those beautiful purple petals, he felt compelled to grow some of his own.

However, his father never saw the value in “worthless signs of vanity” like flowers, so he wouldn’t allow them in the house. A shame, really. Fenn was interested to see how the full grown lavender would improve the room’s atmosphere.

Fenn continued to stare at the flower pots wistfully for a few seconds longer before he heard a faint rustling behind him. He turned to see Oswald slowly sitting up in his bed, looking quite uncomfortable.

“God, this bed sucks,” the scraggly Dewott muttered angrily under his breath. Slowly, Oswald rubbed the back of his neck and looked around the room until his eyes rested on Fenn’s. “Oh, you’re up.”

“W-we actually slept in a bit,” Fenn said, stepping away from the windowsill. “Most of the other teams have probably already picked their next mission and gone to breakfast.”

Oswald groaned as he stood up. “Fine by me,” he quipped. “I’m not in any rush.” He ambled over to the explorers bag in the corner and picked it up. “Another mystery dungeon today. Are you ready?”

Fenn bit his lip. I’m doomed if I’m not. “Y-yeah, I’m ready,” he said sheepishly. “Are you?”

Oswald slung the bag over his shoulder and shrugged. “Eh. Probably not, but we’ve waited long enough.” He cradled the bag on his side, shooting Fenn a friendly smile. “We’ll figure it out. You know, as long as you’re around.”

The Quilava felt like he should’ve blushed at that, but instead he just rubbed his arm and looked away. “H-heh, definitely.” Fenn briefly considered telling Oswald that he was actually not at all the “amazing battler” Oswald thought he was.

But…he’s counting on me! I need to carry the team. There’s no excuse for failure!

The Dewott headed for the door, and yawned. “Ahh…alright, let’s get going,” he said.

Fenn nodded wordlessly and followed the otter’s lead.

---

Team Lavender made it to the lounging room bulletin board soon after. Today, the board looked to be quite barren, though there was still plenty for the two of them to choose from. Fenn scanned the board of posted jobs in search of a mission fit for the two of them. Oswald stood nearby, looking a bit aimless.

Fenn read out the postings in his head. Escort mission…no. Find a lost item…no. Catch a low level crook…not really worth it. Rescue a lost pokemon…just did that. Fenn continued to look over the tasks for a few more minutes until he got frustrated. Nothing interesting or even particularly challenging. Hm…

“Do any of these stick out to you?” he asked Oswald.

Oswald was jolted out of his daydreams. “Huh? Oh. No, not really. I mean I can’t read so I wouldn’t know.”

Fenn froze in his search and spun around to face the Dewott, unsure if he heard him right. “I-I’m sorry, what?” Fenn asked, bewildered.

“Yeah,” Oswald said, rubbing the back of his head. “I must’ve forgotten how to read footprints. Or maybe I was never taught how to read at all. No idea.” He gripped the straps of his shoulder bag.

Fenn frowned. That amnesia of his is really something else. I’ve never met a pokemon that didn’t know how to read footprint runes. Fenn went back to scanning the job board.

Nothing caught his eye on the second pass through. Nothing except a posting on the top right. Fenn stood on his tip toes and peeled it off the board. Oswald leaned over Fenn’s shoulder, trying to get an idea of what he picked. “Found something?” Oswald asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Fenn responded. “Here…it says: ‘Fire Stone retrieval at Mago Canyon. Three hundred for each stone acquired with a 500 poké bonus for five.”

Oswald whistled. “Not bad. Who sent the request?”

“It says…’the guild.'”

“The guild?” the water type pondered. “They pay teams to do things like that? What do they even need the Fire Stones for?”

Fenn shrugged. “I’m guessing it’s for the shops in the town square. The guild technically owns the town and this is their way of making a profit.”

“Makes sense.” Oswald nodded. “So have you been to this ‘Mago Canyon’ before?”

“…I haven’t,” Fenn stated. “I-it’ll be a first for me too. Speaking of which,” he pointed at the shoulder bag on Oswald’s person, “could I see the bag for a second?”

Oswald said “sure” and handed the bag to Fenn.

Fenn unfastened the front pocket and pulled out a small journal. “Cycla gave me this guide on every known mystery dungeon in the region.” He flipped through the journal’s pages. “M…Maaa…Maaa…go…ah! Here we go! Mago Canyon!” Fenn pointed at the page he flipped to. “Let’s see here…’Mago Canyon is an eight floor dungeon to the west of Spelon Town. It’s predominant natives include a variety of rock and fire type pokemon. There are no known entrance points. Estimated difficulty is around a ‘C.’ Tread with caution.”

Oswald crossed his arms. “A ‘C?’ What does that mean?”

Fenn closed the dungeon guide. “Dungeons are ranked by their difficulty in Unknown script,” he explained. “They start at the lowest level of challenge at an ‘E’ rank, then progressively get harder the higher up you go ending with ‘A’ and then ‘S.'”

Oswald frowned. “So, you chose a moderately difficult mission? Fenn, I don’t think we’re ready for this.”

The fire type stuffed the journal back into the bag. “I think we can handle it,” he said. “I doubt it’ll be that bad.”

Plus I need to prove myself. If I can’t get through a dungeon like Mago Canyon, then I’m a failure of an explorer. I have to do this…

“And the typing of the ferals.” Oswald raised his eyebrows. “Fenn, I might not remember much, but I do know that you’d be at a severe disadvantage.” He slung the bag over his shoulder. “Let’s pick something else.”

“No!” Sparks flew from Fenn’s back.

Oswald blinked.

Dang it! I didn’t intend to come off so desperate! “I-I mean,” Fenn mumbled. “We can use this as a chance to test your new m-moves.”

The Dewott put his paws on his hips and scoffed. “Fenn, I can get the same results from spraying Caterpies without having to worry about your wellbeing,” Oswald retorted. “Pick a ‘D’ or ‘E’ job or…something.”

The Quilava rubbed his arm hysterically as he pleaded. “P-please! I know I can…I-I mean I know we can do this!”

“Fenn.”

“Just…trust me on this. We can get some items in town that’ll help. Trust me!”

Oswald stared at Fenn, his brow furrowed and his paws still firmly planted on his hips. Fenn waited for Oswald’s response, trying and failing to stop his body from trembling.

Eventually, Oswald’s expression softened and he sighed. “Alright,” he said. “If you’re so sure that we can get through this…then okay, I trust you.”

Fenn let out a sigh of relief. “Th-thank you…Oswald. I won’t let you down.”

Oswald seemed as though he wanted to say more, but chose not to. He simply nodded and adjusted the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “Let’s go get breakfast then get those items you mentioned.”

And so they did. Fenn and Oswald soon found themselves in the cafeteria. Fenn stood in line with his and Oswald’s plates. He had insisted that he would get their meals for the two of them to make up for Oswald’s kindness when they first met. Now at the front of the line, he came face-to-face with Skua, Kebia’s Simisear chef.

“Hey, Fenn!” he greeted in a jovial tone. “The usual?”

“Y-yes,” Fenn murmured while nodding, avoiding eye contact. “And some oran berries for my t-teammate.”

Skua tossed some pecha berries onto one plate and oran berries onto another. They all landed in a near perfect pile on both plates. “Teammate, you say?” he asked with a smile. “Finally ditched that cleaning job, huh?”

Fenn grabbed the plates and frowned in discomfort. Why was this Simisear so insistent in being so familiar with Fenn? Why does he even care? Can’t he just give Fenn his food and keep his mouth shut?

“Y-yeah, I guess…” Fenn stammered, already turning to leave.

“Hey, that’s great!” Skua grinned. “Good for you, buddy. See you around!”

Hopefully not, Fenn thought. Next time I’ll just make Oswald get the food.

Fenn walked to the same table that he and Oswald had occupied every other time they were in the cafeteria. Oswald sat on the bench, twirling a scalchop on the table. Fenn awkwardly waddled on his hind legs and practically threw the breakfast plates he was holding onto the table. Oswald jolted in his seat.

“Ah! Oh. Uh…you…really didn’t have to get my food if you didn’t want to, Fenn,” Oswald said. He wiggled his paws. “I’m more suited for this sort of thing.”

“It’s okay, Oswald.” I’m going to start making you do it from now on anyways.

Team Lavender ate their breakfast in silence; Fenn was at a loss when it came to starting a conversation and Oswald seemed content with keeping quiet at the moment, so there weren’t many words exchanged. Fenn stared at the Dewott as he ate and cut his oran berries with his scalchops…for some reason. Oswald would slowly slice into his meal and would act surprised when they would cut cleanly in two.

He seems so out of it, Fenn thought. Is this really how amnesia works? Surely, he can’t have just…forgotten how to be a pokemon. I wonder if he remembers anything…something must’ve sparked his memories at some point…

Fenn decided to ask him. “Hey, Oswald?”

Oswald looked up from his experiment. “Hm?”

“Did you remember anything recently?”

“…Uh…” Oswald stared at Fenn, wide eyed. He shifted his gaze left and right as if he were checking if anybody was around. Oswald hesitated to speak for so long that Fenn was starting to get worried.

“No,” Oswald said after some time. “No…I…well, I remembered how delicious Oran’s can be!” He went back to cutting up his breakfast and scarfing it down like it was the first thing he’d eaten in a while.

Fenn continued to stare at Oswald, his lips parted slightly. Is he…is he lying? Why would he lie? I…I don’t…? Fenn was deeply curious about this pokemon and how he just showed up out of nowhere. Fenn was almost confident that there was more to him than he was letting on. Almost. As strange as Oswald was acting, Fenn didn’t want to make assumptions.

The Quilava went back to eating his pecha berries. I know I shouldn’t pry, but I do really want to know what’s on his mind. However, Fenn decided to let it go for now. Oswald would tell him eventually like he had before.

I just hope it’s soon…I don’t like being kept in the dark like this…

---

The streets of Kebia were abuzz with activity when Fenn and Oswald traversed their way through them after breakfast. Pokemon came and went as they pleased, whether on route to somewhere specific or just enjoying the pleasant atmosphere. The shops were open, and the merchants behind their stalls peddled their wares to any and all passing pokemon.

Team Lavender was looking for Kecleon’s shop. Fenn had never been there, on account of not being a guild adventurer until now, so he wasn’t exactly sure where to look. Thankfully, Cycla had told him that every explorer in Kebia worth their weight in poké shopped at Kecleon’s, and had given him the proper directions. His stock was expensive, but well worth it for the quality.

Fenn had some gear in mind when he would get there. He had to be smart with his money and leave some extra left over in case the job didn’t pay well enough. Cycla didn’t know off the top of their head how much everything there cost, so Fenn had to make some rough estimates. He might’ve also tuned out during that part of the lecture—he couldn’t remember.

With the calculations he made, it shouldn’t cost more than 800 poké. Probably.

Fenn and Oswald turned a corner and came face-to-face with a building shaped like…well, a Kecleon. Fenn had followed Cycla’s directions exactly, he just wasn’t aware that it would be so obvious. The structure stuck out amongst every other building in Kebia thanks to it’s…unique design. Fenn wasn’t even aware that pokemon styled houses were still in fashion.

Fenn stared up at the building in awe. He was sure this was the place.

Oswald, nearby, stopped to take in the ridiculousness of the sight. “What the hell…” he muttered under his breath.

The Quilava turned to him. “Th-this should be Kecleon’s. We should be able to get everything we need here.”

Oswald looked between the building and Fenn. “Are you sure this is the place?” he asked jokingly. “Cause I’m not so sure.”

Fenn smirked. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Oswald smirked back. “Alright, I’ll take your word for it.” He started to walk up to the building’s front door before being stopped.

Fenn blocked his path. “A-actually,” he stuttered, “there’s s-something I need to ask you first.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“C-could you be the one to talk to Kecleon and get what we need? I really don’t want to…”

Oswald raised an eyebrow. “Uh…I suppose so. I don’t really see why this is such an issue, though.”

Fenn rubbed his arm. “I’m not…comfortable…talking to other pokemon.” He looked away. “Makes me…nervous.”

“…You’re kidding me,” Oswald chuckled. “It’s really not that big of a deal, Fenn. Just get what you need and go.”

The fire type’s ears drooped. “Please,” Fenn pleaded. “D-do this for me?”

Fenn’s Dewott teammate smiled sympathetically. “I already said I would. Just know that when I say you can handle anything that comes in your way, I mean it.” Oswald adjusted the position of the bag on his shoulder. “What do we even need to get?”

“Um…here.” Fenn padded over to Oswald and stuck his paw into one of the side pockets on the bag he was carrying. He pulled out a small notepad and a writing utensil. “I’ll write it down.”

The fire type scribbled some writing onto the notepad’s pages before handing it to Oswald. Oswald stared at the notepad, his eyes glazed over. Fenn waited for him to finish reading.

“Fenn?”

“Yeah?”

The Dewott handed the notepad back to Fenn. “I can’t read.”

“Oh!” Fenn smacked his forehead, shocked by his own stupidity. “I forgot!” Fenn held the notepad in his paws. “Just…give it to Kecleon. H-he’ll get what we need for us.”

Oswald took the notepad back. “Sounds good to me.”

With their plan of action effectively made, Fenn and Oswald strolled into Kecleon’s shop. A bell above the door rang out. “Welcome!” a voice called out from across the room. Fenn stepped inside, peeking out from behind Oswald’s body.

Kecleon’s shop was filled to the brim with shiny knick-knacks and fascinating curiosities. A table in the center of the room stretched from the door to the counter at the back, displaying hundreds of rare consumables behind glass. Bookcases lined the walls, their shelves brimming with sparkling orbs and polished multicolor disks. Hat-racks stood off to the side, various articles of clothes ranging from scarves to capes and even eyewear hung from their branches.

Fenn was taken aback by the sight of so many valuable items in one place. The establishment had the feel of a renowned, underground museum. Every trinket and every bauble was treated as though they were the most important goods in the known world. Balls of light erected atop tall bronze mounts shrouded the shop in mystifying shadows. The lack of any natural light made Fenn feel wistful.

Meanwhile, Oswald didn’t seem to care for any of it. That was how it appeared to Fenn, at least. He just strolled to the front without taking any of it in.

Team Lavender approached the Kecleon behind the counter. The green pokemon’s monocular eyes looked at both Fenn and Oswald up and down independently. He smiled kindly as they advanced towards the counter. “How can I help you two today?” he asked politely.

Oswald slid the notepad across the counter. “We’re going on a dungeon run today,” he explained, tilting his head to denote that ‘we’ refers to Fenn and him. “Need some special gear.”

The Kecleon hummed, “Hm,” scanning the pages of the notepad in his hands. “Ah, yes! I do believe we have all of this in stock.” He stepped out from behind the counter. “Let me get this for you.”

Oswald nodded and started tapping his fingers on the wooden desk. Fenn fidgeted restlessly with his paws.

“So, where are you two headed?” asked the Kecleon, unlocking one of the glass display cases with a key.

“Mago Canyon,” Oswald replied dryly.

The shopkeeper beamed, “Ah, Mago Canyon. One of my favorites.”

“You have favorites?”

“Of course. Spend as much time as I do traveling and you come across some truly spectacular sights.” He grabbed a cylindrical bottle full of brown liquid from its display case. “I like Mago Canyon in particular because” -he closed the display case- “it isn’t picky.” The Kecleon stepped behind the counter, his arms full of trinkets, and dropped everything he was holding onto the surface. “You can enter any way you want.”

Fenn thought back to the guide he read earlier. It did mention that the canyon had no known entrances. Fenn understood that not every mystery dungeon worked the same way, and even worked on their own rules from time to time. Some broke the laws of physics, others were so harmless that he had heard of non-ferals living in them, and some were so inhabitable that they were deemed a lost cause.

It was notable how the most common deviation between them was how they allowed entry. Figy Forest, of course, only allowed access through that one opening in the trees. Entering in any other way would result in the intruder being spit right back out. Fenn never understood why it was this way, but he did know that there were some dungeons that were like one giant portal to another dimension. Mago Canyon must be one of them.

“So, what,” Oswald inquired, “you can just…jump in and the dungeon will put you on the first floor?

The Kecleon nodded. “Exactly. If you get the chance, get up on the canyon’s cliffs and skydive in. There’s nothing like it.”

Oswald raised his eyebrows but ultimately didn’t question it. “I’ll uh…keep that in mind.”

The shopkeeper tallied up the total cost of every item Fenn had asked for, counting out the price on his fingers. “All of this should round out to…1,244 poké.”

Fenn balked. His estimation was off. Way off.

Oswald cast Fenn a sideways glance to gauge his reaction, and Fenn felt as though he should’ve said something, but couldn’t find the words. The Quilava didn’t have the confidence to tell Oswald that they should reconsider their purchase. And after a few more moments of silence, the Dewott took Fenn’s lack of an answer as his approval.

“Um…alright.” Oswald took a small sack out of his shoulder bag: Fenn’s funds. Oswald dropped it onto the counter. “I think we have enough for that.”

The Kecleon nodded. “Very good.”

Then the two of them stared at one another for a few moments. Neither one of them moved a muscle. It was the Kecleon that soon broke the silence.

“Are…are you going to pay?”

“Oh.” Oswald grinned awkwardly. “I’m sorry to say this but…my fingers are a bit stiff.” He held out one of his paws and ran his fingers across it with the other paw. “You know how it is…I start getting your coins out and then a clumsy oaf like me just…drops them all over the place. Having a mess like that would be pretty inconvenient, I think.”

The shopkeeper looked at Oswald, confused. Fenn was also confused. What is he talking about?

“O…kay?” Kecleon slid the sack closer to him. “If you can trust me with your money for a moment, I will count out the required amount.”

Oswald nodded. “Thank you.”

…What…what just happened?

Kecleon took what he needed from Fenn’s funds before sliding the bag back over to Oswald. “Thank you for your business,” Kecleon hesitantly said.

Oswald dragged every item he bought into his shoulder bag. “No, thank you.” He turned on his heels and left for the door. Fenn clumsily followed behind him, still a bit perplexed. When he looked back at the shopkeeper, he saw that Kecleon was watching them leave, a bemused look on his face.

Outside, Fenn and Oswald reconvened after their shopping trip. “Well, that went well,” Oswald said.

“Oswald…how did you do that?” Fenn asked curiously.

Oswald raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean ‘how did I do that?'”

Fenn stammered, “Y-you know…walking in there and…talking and holding a conversation with a pokemon you’ve never met.”

The question continued to confuse Oswald. “I just…did…? I don’t know, Fenn. I don’t really care about making much of an impression. You asked me to get the stuff and I did. Not much more to it than that.”

“B-but,” Fenn stuttered, “that whole ‘stiff fingers’ ordeal! Weren’t you w-worried that Kecleon was going to assume that you were going to rob him?”

“No?” Oswald frowned. “You know, Fenn, you being so sheepish is sort of ironic to me considering how well you do against ferals.”

Fenn shook his head. “That’s different,” he retorted. “My dad started teaching me to fight when I was young and didn’t stop until I was ready. I’ve never had to…haggle…before.”

Oswald crossed his arms and scowled. “Maybe your dad should’ve taught you how to be yourself and not him.”

Fenn’s vents ignited in anger. “What? No! I am NOT my dad! How could you even say that?”

The Dewott held up his arms and backed down immediately. “Okay, you’re right! You’re not your dad! I’m sorry! I really don’t want to argue! Please!”

Fenn calmed down some, the fire on his back dissipating but not disappearing. “Whatever,” he grumbled. “Let’s…just go already.”

Oswald said nothing and followed Fenn away from Kecleon’s shop.

Fenn fumed. I am NOT my dad, he thought angrily. Teaching me to fight doesn’t make me him. I’m a warrior with my own independence, just like grandpa always said…right? The flames on Fenn’s back were gone. I am not my dad. I’m not.

Fenn looked to the horizon, a determined glint in his eyes. I’ll prove it.

---

Team Lavender made it to Mago Canyon within a few hours. They had said next to nothing for the entirety of the walk.

Fenn tried to keep his mind off of his previous conversation with his teammate. Thinking about his home life didn’t help to improve his confidence in the coming mission.

In a moment of desperation and boredom, he kept his mind occupied by counting clouds.

The environment they were walking on changed from dirt and grass to a dull, grey stone the closer they got to Mago Canyon. Sheer cliffs dropped off into a chasm of black. Fenn looked down into the natural ravine and his eyes caught sight of a swirling whirlpool of deep, dark fog. Streams of darkness leaked onto the canyon’s edge from far below. If there was a bottom to this imposing anomaly, Fenn couldn’t see it.

Oswald stood nearby, looking over the side, and holding the map of the region they were in. “I’m guessing this is it?” he asked sardonically.

Fenn nodded, more to himself than anyone else. “Yeah…Mago Canyon.”

The water type stuffed the map into his bag. “Kecleon did say we can just jump in, but…do we want to?” The Quilava turned to look at Oswald. He was peering over the edge, clearly uncomfortable with the notion of leaping off. “Potentially snapping my neck on a stray rock isn’t how I want to go.”

Fenn smirked. “Well, look who’s scared now?” For some reason, he felt inclined to get back at Oswald for what he said earlier. Just a little bit.

Oswald glared at him. “Words can’t kill, Fenn,” he said, annoyed. “But this?” He spread out his arms to signify that he meant the canyon. “We could very easily die out here. Far away from any semblance of civilization.”

Fenn did his best to smile reassuringly. “I-it’s fine, Oswald,” he uttered. It has to be fine. If it’s not…then… “We’ll be f-fine.”

The Dewott stared down at the swirling darkness at the bottom of Mago Canyon. His eyes were wide and his paws were shaking. He remained silent for some time, deep in thought, before he finally sighed. “Alright.” He smiled warmly at Fenn. “I can do this. As long as you’re with me.”

Fenn was touched. He still doesn’t hate me…even after all of that? I should…I should apologize for getting upset earlier…he didn’t deserve to get yelled at…

Oswald held out his paw. “You ready?” he asked, his voice shaky.

The fire type nodded and held Oswald’s paw firmly. “Yeah…I’m ready.”

With a running start, Team Lavender took a leap of faith. The wind whistled by Fenn’s ears. He couldn’t stop himself from closing his eyes. Too many feelings flowed through him to the point of him becoming light headed.

The darkness rapidly approached, and Fenn braced himself.

Soon enough, everything went dark. Team Lavender’s first real mission was underway.