When I picked my partners up from the center the next day, I had a notebook with me, one I’d spent all of last night ideating in.

  I brought us home, and cooked up everyone’s lunch.

  My knights got a couple of bowls of Fighting-type focused Poké-mix. The fortified, dry kibble seemed dreadfully boring to me, but they ate it up like it was the most delicious thing in the world, especially when I added a few slices of Tamato berry. They formed two cliques around the two plastic metal bowls, Lance, Percy, and Bers on one side of the table, Tristan, Kay, and Galad on the other. Occasionally, they would jostle, or rotate between sides, different troop configurations filtering back and forth, but Lance and Tristan never ate from the same bowl anymore.

  The back and forth created a controlled chaos that I had to fight to keep from spilling over into my own meal of a hastily-prepared berry salad.

  Mana hovered sedately above the hubbub, using hydrokinesis to levitate little bits of kelp to her mouth which she’d feast on daintily. Small blobs of various sauces orbited her like moons around a planet, suspended in water bubbles of their own. She alternated dipping her morsels in the various condiments as they struck her fancy, munching away through thrice as much food as she’d been consuming just a couple of weeks ago.

  Maushold had brought their own table and chairs, setting up a place-setting in two of the unused kitchen chairs pushed together. They ate with tiny forks and knives, carved from soft wood. They each had a bib on, worn over their new coats to protect the garments from any crumbs or stains. The clothing was made from a vaguely familiar synthetic fabric, proof that if anyone came looking for a blue and white jacket affiliated with a certain riot at an underpass, they’d be left sorely disappointed.

  Their meal consisted of bean sausage, carved into little steaks, accompanied by some mashed tubers and a dipping sauce they’d mixed themselves. Their independence when eating was a big load off my shoulders, but it’d be a lie if I said we never got in each other’s way when we were trying to use the small kitchen together.

  Once the whole team had gathered and finished their meals, I broke the news.

  “There’s a good chance that we’re not going to be able to continue working as rangers.”

  Reactions to my proclamation were– actually rather muted.

  My knights didn’t seem to care strongly either way, which I’d sort of seen coming. They were primarily interested in growing stronger, and ranger training had only ever been a means to an end for them.

  Mana cared only as much as I did. If I was devastated, I had no doubt that she would be as well. Right now though, I was mostly feeling– sort of numb. I was angry, for sure, upset, definitely, but it wasn’t anything like I’d been just nine months ago. Being a Ranger had been something I’d fallen into, not a lifelong goal like being a Battle Trainer had been.

  So sure, I was mad, and so was Mana, but neither of us were inconsolable.

  Of anyone, Maushold actually seemed the most disturbed. I couldn’t think of any particular reason for why they might feel that way– they’d never shown any particular attachment to our happenstance profession– except perhaps their general aversion to things they perceived as failure.

  I could understand that feeling. The creeping sense of inadequacy was afflicting me as well, but it seemed like it was hitting Maushold way harder than me.

  Still, they weren’t so discontented that I had to halt our discussion, so I forged on. “Without the stipend from working as a junior ranger, I’m going to have a tough time providing for all of us, so we’re going to need to figure out some sort of alternative.”

  That got some more attention, especially once I explained that we were, while not insolvent, certainly not in a position to go for a particularly long time without income. I could of course ask my parents for help, but I was resistant to that idea. We were hardly starving, but I knew our family’s finances weren’t the greatest either, and I was determined to ensure that my partners and I weren’t a burden on my parents.

  “I did some thinking last night, and came up with a few different options for us to explore,” I laid the notebook I’d filled on the table, flipping it open so my partners could peek inside. Mana hovered behind me while my knights formed a pair of stacks at my side and Maushold scampered over to the table, positioning themselves on the other the journal.

  Inside the spiral-bound notebook were potential futures I’d envisioned, captured on pairs of pages, with pros listed on the left side and cons on the right.

  The very first entry was what Donna had proposed to me yesterday. “Here’s the first option: Continuing our ranger training in another region,” I read aloud. “The pros are that it's a direct continuation of what we’re doing right now. Most of what we’ve learned so far will be transferable, and we won’t need to spend all that much time getting our feet under us.”

  In the back of my head, I’d been worried that my partners wouldn’t be active participants in this exercise, but they quickly proved I needn’t have worried, as a chorus of considering noises came from the various Pokémon at the table.

  Gratified at the evidence that I had their attention, I continued. “There will still be plenty of battling and training,” I nodded to my knights, “and we’ll get plenty of opportunities to help people,” I looked at Maushold, “plus, being a ranger is– it feels important. It feels like something we can do that would really matter.”

  Mana swam in closer, rubbing her side against my arm. I took a second to pat her appreciatively, before continuing. “The cons are that I’m not sure how much money we’d be making. Probably enough that I could keep supporting everyone, but I can’t be positive. Also, we’ll have to leave Ferrum.”

  That statement got a set of quiet murmurs from my partners. “I wasn’t exactly sure whether or not to list that as a con, since I wasn’t sure how you all felt about it, but I– I definitely have some reservations about leaving,” I explained to them, trying to keep my tone even.

  Tristan, ever able to look on the bright side, piped up, offering encouragement that was soon echoed by most of his brothers.

  “I suppose getting to go and see a new region could be considered a pro,” I nodded once I’d grasped what they were trying to say. I’d never been someone too excited about the prospect of exploration, but my knights’ enthusiasm was infectious, and after support from Mana and Maushold, I pulled out a pen and added that to the pros.

  “Another negative is that being a ranger isn’t the safest career choice. I know we’ve gotten more than our fair taste of that already, and it probably won’t always, or even usually, be that dangerous, but there’s definitely some risk inherent involved with making it our career.”

  That got a little squeak from Mana, and a few quiet chirps from Maushold. My knights were completely unbothered.

  “But,” I raised a hand, making sure I had everyone’s attention again, ‘that’s just one option. We’ve got a few more to go over,” I flipped the notebook’s page, revealing my next idea. “Drake once offered to mentor me, over in Hoenn. To let me go on a ‘journey’ in that region.”

  At the unfamiliar name, Maushold let out a few confused-sounding squeaks, which earned them a variety of replies from Mana and my knights. “He was my mentor for a short time,” I threw in my own explanation, “and while we didn’t part on the best of terms, I’d bet his offer still stands. If nothing else, I’d bet I could guilt him.” Or maybe blackmail him, I carefully didn’t say.

  The moment of silent though stretched as memories of my and Drake’s parting pulsed in my mind, but a question from Kay pulled me out of it. “The pros? Right, well, same as rangering abroad, we get to see a new region. There will also be training and battles aplenty. None of the other options involve us getting as strong as quickly.”

  That revelation got my knights excited, and Mana to a lesser degree, though Maushold didn’t seem quite as enthused. “I don’t think money would be any object for as long as we’re training under Drake, so we wouldn’t need to worry about staying together, and while it might be a little bit dangerous, traveling around the region, we wouldn’t be purposely going into risky situations, like we would working for the ranger corp.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  That got my other two partners perking up a little bit, but I held up a hand to forestall the group's enthusiasm.

  “But remember, there’s two sides to all of these coins. There are definitely some cons to this option. First of all, we have to leave Ferrum. That’s a downside for me, and it could be for you guys too. I’m not one-hundred percent sure, but I really doubt that Hoenn has as robust laws surrounding Pokémon independence and citizenship as Ferrum does. Long-term, that could be a big deal for you all.”

  That statement got a few confused looks and unsure murmurs, so I continued. “I’ll explain more why that’s a con in the next option I present, just stick with me for now, okay everyone?”

  The team settled down, and I continued listing the downsides. “Next, traveling to Hoenn is only a short-term answer. As far as I know, it doesn’t open any career paths for us, it doesn’t further our education, and it doesn’t guarantee that we’ll be able to stay together long-term. If that’s something we’re all interested in, and I know I am, this is probably one of the least stable options.”

  To my gratification, that revelation got some unhappy mutterings. “I’m not saying it’s a dead-end or anything, I haven’t really done enough research to say for sure, but there’s a lot of volatility and uncertainty on that path, and that’s something we should acknowledge.”

  My partners all nodded, each of them evaluating the risk in their own way. I could tell my knights still liked that option, but Maushold and Mana clearly had their reservations.

  “Alright, moving on, we’ve got option three,” another page of the journal, another set of scrawled notes. “I call this, career-focus,” I took a breath, and then went on, “this one is a little bit complicated, and needs some explaining, so bear with me, okay?”

  My knights leaned back a bit, put off by the idea of a complicated option, but Maushold perked up, leaning in with obvious interest. “Alright, so I’m technically on my battle break right now, which is a multi-year sabbatical from school where teenagers can try their best at becoming professional battle trainers. People can take as long or as short on their breaks as they want, but for the vast majority, a battle break only lasts one year. After that, they return to school.”

  “Washi?” Mana asked, her whole body quirked.

  “No, see, when I was working as a ranger, instead of returning to normal schooling after my battle-break ended, we would have gone to the ranger academy. We still could, if we chose the first option.”

  My explanation got some nods and ah-ha’s from the group. “Maushold, Maus?” The littlest maus asked, directing everyone’s eyes back to me.

  “I’m– not exactly sure what I would go back to school for yet, but I’d have time to figure it out. I’d still have a couple of years of general education left, which would give me time to figure out next steps. And, it’d give you all the opportunity to make some choices as well.”

  That statement earned me some confused mutterings that caused a bit of guilt to swell in my chest. “I, uh, haven’t really talked with you guys about this yet because it’s not something we needed to worry about before, but if you’re going to make an informed choice about our future together, it's something I should really explain now.”

  The murmurs picked up, and I gave them time to discuss and speculate before I went on. “Okay, so in Ferrum, there are very robust laws for Pokémon that want to work and live in ‘human’ society,” I put air quotes around the word, since to me the statement seemed like sort of a misnomer. “About a quarter of people registered as citizens in Ferrum are Pokémon, not humans. Pokémon with jobs, that pay taxes, and that can pass a proficiency test to earn the opportunity to vote, just like we,” I pointed at myself to make it clear who ‘we’ was, “do.”

  The revelation was met by wide-eyed stares and open mouths.

  “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you guys or anything,” I protested weakly, “but legally, most Pokémon are required to spend at least two years as a battle trainer’s Pokémon. Or a ranger’s, or a security officer’s, or– well, you get the idea.”

  My explanation earned me a reprieve from what I saw as accusing gazes, as my partners spent a few moments discussing this revelation amongst themselves. “You know and have met plenty of independent Pokémon. Think Bakiru, or the Darmanitan who runs the Iron Pot place, or the Cyclizar that run the taxi services.

  “That’s the term,” I continued, "independent Pokémon,” and there was a lot of politics and history loaded into that term. Things that I didn’t need to get into with my partners today (and that I had a pretty cursory understanding of in the first place). “Not everyone wants to become independent, Montressue has clearly been happy being partners with Mrs. Peters for decades now, but it’s also very common, and if it’s a goal you want to work towards, I’d be happy to support you in it.”

  My statement drew immediate cries of refusal from my team, but I wasn’t done yet. “Hold on everyone, hold on. Becoming independent doesn’t mean we need to separate from one another. If anything, it makes it easier for us to stay together. If you guys have your own income, it takes pressure off of me to provide for all of us, and just because you’re independent, doesn’t mean we can’t still live and train together. Really, it just gives us more options.”

  My clarification mollified the group somewhat, and while I could tell my knights weren’t particularly interested in getting a job, Maushold and Mana seemed at least tentatively interested.

  “The biggest pro for this choice is that it’s the most stable option. We’ll have plenty of time to find the right jobs and careers, and our odds of staying together should be really high. Plus, it’ll be really safe. No traveling around a foreign region, no going on dangerous missions, just normal, everyday life.”

  A few weeks ago, that probably would have been on the con list. Right now though, it placed among the pros. Maybe it was the near-death experience still talking, but Mana and Maushold both made encouraging sounds that made me think maybe banal wouldn’t be so bad.

  My knights, on the other hand, clearly seemed disquieted by the idea, which wasn’t helped when I continued. “Con-wise, we won’t have any income, so I’ll have to work part-time to cover the difference, and you guys might need to as well, once you can. Also, this is the choice that probably involves the least battling. We can try to get involved with the Underleague when it starts up again, and go to the battle warehouse in the harbor, but we won’t be able to live and breathe training like we do right now.”

  That statement really got the six Falinks riled up, but I held up a forestalling hand which saw them quiet down after only a few murmurs of riot. “I know that doesn’t sound too great to you guys, but wait until I finish, okay? Long-term, we’d still get to do some battling, and we could even aim for becoming underleaders ourselves, someday. We’d have plenty of time for slow, steady improvement, and if for whatever reason, things don’t work out, this option gives us the most flexibility for trying other things. It’s the least committal choice on the list.”

  They still didn’t seem enthused, but they did give the idea due thought, conferring amongst one another about the upsides and downsides, even as Maushold did the same.

  For her part, Mana swam lazy circles above the table, a small council of azure forms accompanying her.

  I gave my partners time to ruminate, before dragging everyone’s attention back. “Two more choices everyone, almost there. Next up, we’ve got a choice that’s actually a few options bundled into one.”

  For this, I pulled some supplemental material out from between the pages of the notebook, showing the group a variety of flyers, cutouts, and form letters. “You see, the ranger corp isn’t the only organization that does programs for teens on their battle breaks. There’s a whole bunch of companies, labs, government offices, and more that we can apply for. This is sort of like the career-focused option, but instead of going back to school, I try to get into one of these programs.

  “The pros are that if I get in, it gives us a whole year to try something new, and also to think about and consider our next moves. We get to stay in Ferrum, and they all come with decent stipends too, so we won’t have to worry about doing extra work to cover our expenses. Same con as the career-focused choice though, there won’t be a ton of battling involved with most of these, and the majority don’t really start up until the beginning of the year, so we’ll have to find some way to bridge the next three months.”

  My partners still looked like they were considering, but I could also tell that the conversation had gone long, and I was starting to lose my audience. “The last choice is essentially saying we don’t choose yet. There isn’t really a deadline on a lot of these options, so we have until the end of the year before we really need to figure things out. That gives us just about three months to make a decision, though if we delay picking an option for longer than a month or so, we’re going to need to find a way to make some money.”

  I paused, and some of my partners began speaking in the gap, but I held up a hand. “I don’t want anyone to make a decision right this second. Let’s think on this for at least a couple of days, okay? This is a big decision, and I want to make sure no one feels pressured into making a choice.”

  My request forestalled the incoming comments, and my partners lapsed into uneasy murmurs, little cliques discussing amongst themselves.

  “We can talk more about this at dinner, in case you have any questions or things to add, but until then, I want to make sure you guys have plenty of time to think, so I’ll leave you to it, okay? Honestly, I need some time to consider things as well.”

  Because while I’d spent most of last night and this morning coming up with those four options, I hadn’t done a lot of thinking about how I felt about them, just what they might mean for me and mine.

  No further questions emerged from the group, and after the food was gone, everyone drifted to various corners of the apartment, thoughts about the future on their mind. Things were uncertain, and the path forward for our little family wasn’t clear, but I wasn’t nearly as worried about it as I’d been when this situation had crept up on me at the start of the summer.

  After all, this time, we’d be facing these uncertainties together.