Because of Nidorino's large size, Nova had cleared out one of the bedrooms in his rented apartment to use as a feeding area for it. Without a spare room to sleep in, he had been making do with the sofa in the living room every night.
Fortunately, while Corvisquire had grown quite a bit since Nova first caught it, it had not yet reached a size that would cause any real problems. If it ever grew much bigger, even a two-bedroom apartment might not be enough for all of Nova's Pokémon partners.
Aresdra was very interested in Nova's newest partner. She looked the bird Pokémon over carefully, admiring its sharp, crow-like appearance. Corvisquire, never one to shy away from attention — especially from a pretty girl — forgot all about its food and stood tall on the floor, puffing out its chest and posing as Aresdra snapped photos of it.
However, the moment Nova reached into his backpack and carefully pulled out a light green Pokémon egg dotted with small, cute paw prints, Aresdra's attention shifted entirely. Corvisquire, now completely ignored, let out a low, disgruntled cry and waddled over to its food bowl, burying its frustration in its meal.
"What's going to hatch from it?" Aresdra asked, her eyes wide as she leaned in for a closer look.
"Barring any surprises, it should be a Sprigatito," Nova said.
"A Grass-type starter from Paldea? It's so adorable!"
Aresdra carefully lifted the incubator and pressed her cheek gently against the glass, as if she were already nuzzling the little cat inside.
Nova smiled. "Girls and cute Pokémon — some things never change."
Aresdra gave a small shake of her head. "Cute Pokémon are great, and yes, I do love them. But honestly, I think I'm better suited to a strong and cool partner."
Nova understood what she meant without her needing to say more.
Aresdra had always been someone who kept her guard up. Deep down, she was still a girl who had grown up without a strong sense of security. It made sense that she would want a Pokémon that felt powerful and reliable by her side — one that could make her feel safe.
With that in mind, Nova brought up something he had been thinking about for a while. "Your Starter Fund will be fully paid up in a few months. Have you thought about which Pokémon you want to choose?"
The Starter Fund was a system that Nova often compared to the housing funds he had read about in his past life.
The difference, of course, was that housing funds were used to purchase homes, while the Starter Fund gave a minor child the right to receive a starter Pokémon from the Norlandia Alliance. In a way, though, the two weren't so different — in both worlds, a starter Pokémon was something close to a necessity.
Even in the stories and games Nova had grown up knowing, not every child simply walked up to a professor at age ten and walked away with a Charmander or a Squirtle. It didn't work that way for everyone.
After all, why did so many young trainers out on the road rely on Caterpie or Weedle as their first partners? It wasn't because they disliked Fire-types or Water-types. It was because they simply didn't have access to anything else.
In the Norlandia Alliance, a family was required to contribute a total of 100,000 League Coins to the Starter Fund before their child came of age. Only then could they apply to receive a starter Pokémon. The payment method was flexible — one could contribute a small amount each month until the full sum was reached, or pay everything at once and receive the Pokémon right away.
For orphans like Nova and Aresdra, the Alliance provided various living allowances, and the required Starter Fund contribution was reduced by half. Even so, Nova had made a deliberate choice to hold off on claiming his own starter eligibility for now. He had his training system, and he was confident that even starting from scratch with a common Bug-type, he could work his way toward becoming a capable trainer. In the meantime, he wanted to make sure that Aresdra could use their shared resources to get the Pokémon she truly wanted.
The Norlandia Alliance's starter Pokémon lineup was much like that of the Hoenn region — Treecko, Torchic, and Mudkip.
For someone like Thelma, the situation had been entirely different. Her father, Charlie, had practically filled her Starter Fund the day she was born. On her tenth birthday, he personally brought her to the Alliance's finest Pokémon breeding facility to choose her partner. That was the origin of Thelma's exceptionally powerful Sceptile — a Pokémon that had long since reached its final Evolution and could hold its own against two or three of a typical professional trainer's strongest Pokémon combined.
The gap between their situations was stark. Thelma had started her journey with a fully bonded, experienced partner at her side. Nova and Aresdra were still waiting — still a few months away from having enough saved up.
Aresdra, however, seemed to have already made up her mind.
"I'll probably go with Torchic," she said simply.
It caught Nova slightly off guard. But when he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Torchic's final Evolution, Blaziken, was both powerful and undeniably cool — fast, fierce, and more than capable of giving its Trainer the kind of strong, dependable partner Aresdra had always wanted. It fit her perfectly.
After lunch, the two of them cleaned up the apartment together. By around two in the afternoon, they headed out, stopping at a nearby flower shop to pick up a large bouquet. At half past two, they were standing at the bus stop, waiting for the bus that would take them to the Dragon's Fang Valley Memorial.
The bus was nearly empty. It made sense — the valley was famous for its breathtaking sunrise views over the snow-covered peaks, and few people bothered making the trip in the afternoon when there was no sunrise to see.
The ride was long and bumpy. When Nova finally stepped off the bus and looked up, the sight stopped him in his tracks. Before him stretched an unbroken wall of towering, snow-capped mountains — vast and silent, like the edge of the world itself. And the only way through that wall was Dragon's Fang Valley.
At the valley's entrance stood a tall, spire-shaped structure: the Dragon's Fang Valley Memorial. It had been built to honor those who had passed through this point into the Kunlun Plateau and never come back.
Behind the main monument, rows of smaller stone markers stood neatly arranged — each about a meter tall, each engraved with a name. Every name represented a person who had once been alive. Because those who disappeared into the Kunlun Plateau almost never left any trace behind — no body, no belongings, nothing — this kind of cenotaph was the only way their loved ones could grieve and remember.
Aresdra's parents were remembered here, in this same quiet way.
She led Nova slowly along the rows, reading each name until she found the two markers that belonged to her parents. She stopped in front of them and went still.
But they were not alone.
Standing before the same two markers were a man and a woman — both blond-haired and blue-eyed, with fair skin that made it clear they were not from Norlandia. They had already placed a large bouquet of flowers at the base of the monuments. The tribute was clearly theirs.
They turned, surprised to find Aresdra and Nova approaching. But the moment the woman's eyes landed on Aresdra's face, her expression shifted from surprise to unmistakable joy.
"Are you Aresdra?"
The question was not asked in the common tongue of Norlandia. It was spoken in the language of Asgard.
Nova had spent eight years living alongside Aresdra, and in that time he had picked up enough Asgardian to follow a conversation — barely. Speaking it was another matter entirely. He was still very much a beginner.
Aresdra herself rarely spoke Asgardian anymore. Without anyone to practice with, her grasp of her native language had grown a little rusty over the years. Still, when the two strangers addressed her, she responded without missing a beat — in clear, fluent Asgardian.
"Sharif? Mataja?" Her voice was warm with recognition. "It's been so long!"