I was never an aggressive Pokemon. I never got into fights, never attacked anyone in anger, none of that stuff. Perhaps this explains why I just sat there, staring at what was left of my home... I had left for a few years to find my own way, leaving my parents in their home of who knows how many years, a slightly pudgy but still fleet-footed Quilava off to make himself a place in the world. Everything had been so serene and peaceful when I left, just as it had always been, but lot can happen in even a week, even moreso three years.

The home was a stone structure, built kind of like an igloo, build to both resist fire-type Pokemon heat and flames while being sturdy and resistant to the dry and sometimes wild weather of the area, that being a semi-desert tucked behind a mountain range. But it no longer resembled its former self, the stones cracked, broken, and scattered around the area for several meters, with scorch marks scarring the dirt and remnants of the destroyed home, as well as the destroyed furniture inside. Even the small berry garden my father spent so much time caring for was completely destroyed, nothing but charred remains of the formerly lush, healthy plants left behind.

I must have sat there staring at the remains for hours... most Pokemon would have been thrown into a rage by the mere sight, some would have cried, but I didn't do anything. I just stared, even as clouds started to build in the sky and roll in from the west, threatening to pour down rain at any time. The wind was starting to pick up, with a bit of a chilling bite behind each gust, the grass and tree leaves swaying with every breeze. I would have remained planted to that spot if it weren't for a voice speaking my name from behind. "Damar" it said softly, no doubt knowing exactly what was going through my head.

I turned my head, slowly looking back at the source of the voice. I almost didn't recognize it, but after seeing who it was there were no doubts. "I'm sorry Damar..." the Luxio said softly, his voice somewhat shaky as though he were holding back tears. I blinked and slowly turned to face him, but my gaze was fixed to the ground, mind racing as it tried to process everything it had taken in.

This Luxio, named Quincy, had been my friend since we were both wee children, a Shinx and Cyndaquil, and was closer to my family than anyone in the area. We had grown up together and were the best of friends, which made it so hard to leave when I realized I had no future here. He wanted to come with but he was needed at home, his mother barely able to take care of herself while managing a small store catering to travelers unfortunate to be moving through this rocky, dry land. He was a Shinx when I left though, taking longer than myself to evolve.

"Wh-what happened, Quincy?" I asked with a quivering voice, barely able to eek the words from my throat. He looked down at his forepaws and was silent for a moment before returning his gaze to me, eyes filled with a mix of sadness and anger. "A g-group of travelers rolled through like any other day... but they w-weren't normal travelers. They were a group of criminals w-wanted by Magnetzone and his squad of peacekeepers... their Emboar leader was in town while his thugs camped nearby, the pig harassing and threatening my mother to intimidate her into giving him supplies"

"Before my mother could speak up, your parents teamed up on the guy, dragged him far enough from the stall before slapping and smacking him silly. He ran with a bloodied nose, threatened to send in his gang, the usual when thugs come through the area and get what's coming to 'em. In the evening though, they really did come back, and they tracked down your parents to their home. Being two Typhlosions, they came out flames blazing and their roars echoing through the fields, and fought like hell. They manages to take out most of the gang and even their leader, but were eventually overwhemed, and the Emboar managed to destroy the house out of sheer spite..."

"...it was terrifying to watch, your parents fighting like that. Two large Pokemon bringing literal hell from the earth and bellowing fire hot enough to melt rock... it makes me glad you don't believe in fighting" Quincy says softy, eyes once again focused on the ground, the images of the battle rolling through his head. "It ended with your parents using that ability everyone forgets Typhlosion have... they rubbed their fur together, and it created super hot, powerful explosions that knocked everyone out, and drove me from the area from the heat. When I returned, nobody was around, just everything destroyed and burned..."

The Quilava's heart sank the moment he heard his parents weren't around after the fight. Why would they just disappear? They weren't the moving type, even if their home were destroyed... something must have happened. "I s-see... I came back to v-visit for a few weeks but I guess that isn't happening..." the fire-type muttered, tears starting to well up in his eyes. Even if he didn't have the aggressive, intimidating nature of his parents or any interest in staying with them, they were his parents regardless and they deserved better than this. His visit home had just become a hunt for his family.