Shortly after starting his walk down the path, the trees began to thin out. It seemed that he'd only been on the very edge of the forest. He was lucky- after all, who knew how long it might've taken him to get out if he'd been trapped in its depths, and that was disregarding the idea that powerful pokemon were living in it. Even so, being in the forest reawakened his love for nature that had died off long ago. Living in a very urban area meant the only green he usually saw was that in rich people's front yards, so there wasn't much foliage to admire.
*Not to mention how allergic I am to pollen. Or rather, was.*
Sinclair had reconciled himself with being dead. What other explanation was there? He could breathe, he was in a dreamlike forest, and he had his shellos. None of that would have happened on Earth, so the boy just went along with it. What else was there to do?
Chuckling to himself as he patted Marzipan's head, Sinclair finally stepped out of the treeline and was immediately tackled to the ground.
"WHA-"
A small mass of spiky fur was on top of him, wiggling excitedly and licking his face. He tried his best to push the thing off, shoving at it with his hands, but his efforts bore little fruit until the creature was suddenly lifted off of his body.
"Ohmygosh I am SO SORRY! Ben gets really excited around new people!"
Groaning, Sinclair wiped the slobber off his face. He flicked his hand to get the sticky stuff off, then rubbed it on his gown. "What the hell was that?", he muttered, looking up.
"That was Ben," the stranger said with a grimace. He couldn't have been older than twelve, with baby fat in his cheeks and large brown eyes. There wasn't anything particularly notable about him other than what he held in his arms- a zigzagoon. Sinclair's eyes widened as he recognized the pokemon. He remembered it being part of a deck he'd gotten for his thirteenth birthday, a card that he'd hardly used in favor of more powerful ones.
*Speaking of other pokemon, where did Marzipan go?*
Whipping his head around, he breathed a sigh of relief upon spotting the pink pokemon chewing on some grass behind him. Sinclair grabbed it, placing it in his lap before turning back to the younger boy. He had millions of questions racing through his mind, so choosing only one was a difficult task. Eventually, he settled on the most important: "What is this place?"
The stranger set his pokemon down on the ground, where it immediately began to chase a poor, frantic fletchling. "If you're asking which route we're on, it's Route Two, or as many people call it, Avance Trail."
*Route two… so I'm definitely in some sort of pokemon world, but why does Avance trail sound so familiar?*
"What region is this?", he opted to ask.
The other boy gaped at Sinclair, arms going slack. "What do you MEAN, what region is this? It's Kalos! What a weirdo…"
Sinclair's cheeks flushed in embarrassment, but he didn't care much in his excitement. Not only had he died and resurfaced in a new world with Marzipan, but it was the pokemon world! It was Kalos! Grinning, he stood up, holding his shellos in one arm and extending the other for a handshake. "The name's Sinclair. Thanks for the help." Just as he finished speaking, he realized something odd. The stranger was taller than him by about an inch!
*I really hope he's just a really tall kid. If he's not…*
Well, the clues had started to add up for him. His childish voice, his short stature, all of it totaled to him having regressed his age. For a moment, his expression soured, but he was careful not to let it show too much. After all, he wouldn't want to seem like a 'weirdo.'
The kid hesitantly took his hand, shaking it slowly. "I'm Austin."
"So, which way to the nearest town, Austin?"
"If you continue down that path in the direction you were going, You'll reach Aquacorde town in no time. Before you go, though… let's have a battle!"