Alice

Alice had never been wronged by a hybrid. She had never had a truly awful experience with a hybrid. In fact, she had lived near hybrids her whole life, and none had ever been all that problematic for her, not traumatic, nothing. And yet, out of sheer jealousy for their specialness, the pure Hatenna despised them.

Alice had grown up in an all-hybrid home: her mother had been a Hattrem/Exploud, and her father had been a Tynamo/Escavelier. All six of her sisters were hybrids… and then there was Alice, the pure Hatenna. As her sisters began to learn the pros and cons of their hybridization, Alice grew more and more jealous, more and more loathing of them. They were obviously good Pokemon… but the exciting abilities they were learning were driving the Hatenna mad with jealousy. She plugged her ears when anything related to hybrids was spoken of and avoided the rest of her family... and most of her family did the same; when half of one's siblings were Whismur/Hatenna hybrids, seeing one's sisters was a rare obstacle. At least they would have potentially cool evolutions.

"I just can't stand them!" Alice once complained to her best friend, a pure Furfrou named Nadia. "They're driving me up the walls! Addie was up all night crying, which, of course, woke up Edith and Mathilda too. And they didn't even apologize for it the next day! They just kept whispering and skittering around… I just… they're just insufferable!" she had fumed.

"Quiet, doll, you're lettin'm rile you up again. Hybrids'll be hybrids, always complaining about how they's the unwanted ones, meanwhile here we are a couplea 'normies' sittin' at a park bench 'cuz no one noticed we were gone." Nadia had giggled. "Hybrids are the worst, don't get me wrong. One day, you won't gotta deal wif'm anymore, just a couple more years an' you'll be off'n your own adventure." she cooed, playing with a braided ear. "Now, c'mon, lookit my new Debutante cut, I think it's my favorite cut yet."

One day, a bit after that conversation, Alice's mother pulled her aside and gave her a gift: a hair ornament carved from stone to look like a Wimpod. It looked old… older than Alice, maybe even older than her mother. The eye upon it stared up at Alice, as if it knew something.

"Keep it with you always, it is a very precious treasure. Do not remove it for any reasons." her mother had instructed Alice. And Alice, for some reason finally feeling special, heartily agreed. It did not make up for not being a hybrid, but it was still something, something that set her apart. An ancient relic, an heirloom, and it was all for her, and not her sisters! She showed off her new treasure to all her friends, who oohed and cooed over it. As she had been tasked, Alice never took it out of her hair, and soon it felt like it had always been there.

Many years passed, and Alice - still a Hatenna - finally moved into her own home nearer to the town. Although she had been trying to evolve, evolution never seemed to come to the pure Hatenna, nor her sisters. But, a lack of evolution was not going to stop Alice from being productive. She had always been a master pianist (being psychic certainly helped), and soon she was a piano teacher of some repute in town, living in a tiny meadow shack. But as years passed, her thoughts turned back to evolution. Why could she not evolve?

Her questions were answered one fair day, as Alice strolled through the woods.

"Don'cha wanna evolve?" a voice from above suddenly inquired.

"Huh?" Alice paused, and took several steps back as a rather fluffy Ambipom who appeared just around her age swung down from the tree above.

"I said, don'cha wanna evolve?" the Ambipom repeated his question.

"Of… of course I do, sir… why do you ask?" Alice replied politely to the stranger.

"I's just askin' cuzza yet Everstone hairpiece there! Pretty well disguised, thought you mightn't have noticed." the Ambipom grinned, and before Alice could protest he unlatched the Wimpod hairpin from her hair. She had almost forgotten that had been there-

But, suddenly, Alice began to feel very strange. Everything began to shimmer a brilliant white as Alice, now unhindered from evolving, finally evolved. Her hair grew large, and tall, and it curled around her head in a much more comfortable fashion, and from her body grew arms - real, physical arms! The glowing subsided, leaving Alice a transformed Pokemon.

And, as what her mother had done dawned on Alice, she began to cry into her new hands. Her mother had given that hairpin to her, told her to never take it off… all for what, so that Alice would never evolve? So that she would stay small and weak for her entire life?? Was that why her sisters had never evolved, her mother had been stopping them???

"D'aww, there there, evolution changes alotta things, but you'll get usedta it in a jiffy!" the fluffy Ambipom, misunderstanding her tears, patted Alice on the back, and returned the hairpin to  where he had taken it.

"'Tis a rather pretty little thingo, though, whoever gave it to you musta loved you alot!"

Alice returned to her parent's home that very night to check on her family. The house was empty, and by the looks of things had been empty for at least a year. The whole house was clean, empty, and the floor was covered in a layer of dust only marred by Alice's own hairprints. She never saw her parents, nor her sisters, ever again. They were probably hidden in the forest forever bound to whisper and run from anyone that would attempt to help them. At least it would keep them alive.

Alice, of course, stopped wearing the hairpin; it was the only gift her mother had given her, but the implications of the gift soured it. Plus, she did want to evolve. She also met this strange fluffy Ambipom once again, in the same stretch of forest. He introduced himself as Rymer, a humble stonemason who lived a humble life in the forest. That had been why he had identified the Everstone in the hairpin so quickly. No stonemason worth his salt would overlook something so obvious! Alice and Rymer got along rather well (although Rymer's laid-back personality annoyed the very driven Alice, and their stances on hybrids were very different), and they began seeing each other more and more often…

Alice and Rymer began to date shortly after Alice evolved a second time, finally becoming a full Hatterene. Even sooner after that, they were happily married and living in Alice's house in the meadow. They lived an idyllic life together for a few blissful years, Rymer continuing to carve stone and Alice continuing to teach piano on her upright. Rymer grew to understand Alice's triggers, and steered clear of them, which worked for the most part. They truly loved one another, and soon they even had an egg on the way, most definitely a Hatenna judging by the colors. And everything was wonderful.

Until Rymer vanished. Nothing special had happened the night he never returned. He just waved goodbye, saying he was going to get some firewood… and was never seen again. Alice was distraught beyond belief about the disappearance of her husband, and paid many Pokemon hefty sums of money to go and search for him, with no luck. No body was ever found, he had simply vanished without a trace.

As Alice mourned, she guarded her egg - her only memory of Rymer - like a precious gemstone. She spoke kindly to the egg, telling the child inside stories of her father. Even if the child was not listening, it made Alice feel better. Days passed like months as she waited for the egg to hatch. A room had been fixed for her, a name had been chosen (Magda), all that was left was to wait for the egg to finally hatch.

And hatch it did.

The look on Alice's face turned from one of wonderment- to shock... to disgust… as the egg split, revealing not quite the Hatenna Alice had been expecting. The Pokemon was… shaped like a Glameow, with the bald face and feet and belly of an Aipom, and the unmistakable hair and hands of a Hatterene. This child… was not a hybrid… but a triple hybrid.

It was a good thing little Magda had been asleep when she had hatched, for as soon as Alice saw her, she retreated from the room, too in shock to cry or curse the heavens, or question where the Glameow third had come from. No, the new parent just… sat. Sat quietly in a chair in the front room. Was she supposed to be happy? Or disappointed? Or angry? Many times, Alice went to check if, somehow, she had been wrong, and her daughter was exactly what she had wanted all along. She was always met with Magda.

Alice interacted as little as possible with young Magda. She fed the little triple hybrid, of course, and taught her proper manners and to speak the common tongue, but other than that she kept Magda confined to her room. It was soon evident that, along with being a triple hybrid, little Magda was also completely blind. A helpless child, unaware of her flaws. Magda had loved her mother from the moment they had met, but Alice still clung to her resentment like a Zubat to a cavern ceiling.

But as months turned to a year, and then years, that began to change. Magda's insistence on bonding with her mother went from irritating… to actually kind of flattering. She would totter after her mother, sightless eyes trained on nothing but her ears set and listening. Even putting Magda in her room stopped working, as the scrappy little triple hybrid figured out how to twist the doorhandles with her fluffy ear-hands.

One day, upon returning home from the store, Alice found Magda sitting on the piano chair, staring at the door as if she had been eagerly awaiting her mother's arrival.
"Didn't I tell you to stay in your room?" Alice sighed in faux disappointment as she set her bag down in the kitchen.
"I want you to teach me, mother." Magda replied simply.
"Teach you what?" Alice turned to her daughter.
"Piano. I want to be able to play piano like you." Magda meowed, and yawned. "I can do it, I really will try to learn if you try to teach me."
"But you're-" Alice paused before she said the word 'blind'. Magda never understood what Alice meant when she spoke of sight, and how 'sight' would help her do anything special. And it would not stop her now, either. She really was a determined little child… quite the handful.
"Yes, all right… but it will be challenging. I will expect you to practice daily." Alice sighed, and gave into her child's demands.

And it was a good thing she had; Magda was a natural at the piano. Of course, Magda could not see the keys or the pages of notes, but with a lot of trial and error, Magda's fingers finally found their proper purchases. And, little by little, Alice let go of her stubborn self-bound pride and replaced it with a pride for Magda. Here Magda was, blind in a sighted world, playing the piano almost on her mother's level in a year's time. Despite all the odds, she was a master.

Several years passed uneventfully, until the day of Magda's eighth birthday. There was much merriment planned for that day, including inviting Magda's friend and baking a cake. ...But Alice had forgotten something important: a gift! And there was no time to stop at the store… perhaps she could find a piece of jewelry Magda would take second-hand from her mother?

But as Alice searched, the past began to surface within the presence. Her search had led her to rediscover something she had thought long lost: the Wimpod hairpin. She stared into its stone eye… it was inanimate, of course, but it almost felt like it longed to be worn. It was so beautiful in its own strange way… and Magda absolutely loved a trinket. And it would discourage her from taking Alice's jewelry anymore.

...But there was the problem of evolution. After all, this was an Everstone. Magda would, of course, grow up. ...But, perhaps she could stay small forever? Were these the thoughts that had gone through Alice's mother's mind when she had gifted the hairpiece in the first place? Perhaps.
But, it was finally time for the hairpiece to be a true, wholehearted gift.

"Magda, I-" Alice began as she entered Magda's room- only to find it empty, with the window open. Magda had broken out of the house again… her Aipom hands were such a hassle. She sighed, and left the house through the front door. Not the first time it had happened, certainly not the last.

Alice opened the door- right into a very familiar Cubchoo/Galarian Meowth hybrid, Magda's friend. "Sorrelmask? I do apologize, but Magda's already left. Probably to find you." she apologized to the sniffling hybrid.
"What? I thought she went home? We were playing hide and seek, and she was hiding- and- urgh, you know, I have issues with seeking- and I can't find her. I thought she gave up waiting and went home?" Sorrelmask responded, and a pang of worry bloomed in Alice's chest.
"...Excuse me, I need to find Magda now-" Alice floated past Sorrelmask, out into the meadow.
"She's probably fine, Misses Mallon, but I'll keep looking too!"
Alice was not listening.

Alice searched high and low in the meadow, with very little luck. She found it difficult to calm herself- after all, her family did have a record of disappearing without a trace- surely Magda-
Wait, yes- after a good half an hour search, Alice finally heard Magda return her calls. Relief flooded through Alice's veins as she rushed over to her daughter.

"Magda- good gracious, I told you not to leave the house until I was here, you gave me a frr-" Alice began to worriedly scold her daughter- before realizing that they were not alone here. Standing to the side of Magda was a Furfrou… a Debutante Furfrou. And not just any Debutante Furfrou…
"...Nelda?" Alice was shocked; after all these years, her oldest friend was here!  Their friendship had drifted after Alice had left the forest. She looked well… but perturbed.

"Alice... why, it's been a long time. A decade? I seeya finally evolved, just like you wanted to." Nelda replied with a haughty flip of her ear. "I can't believe we haven't met by chance until now, doll- but, correct me if I'm wrong- do you know this small... hybrid?" the Furfrou's voice was filled with disgust as she stared at the half-balding, blind triple hybrid that was Magda.

Suddenly, a fierce rage took over Alice at Nelda's tone. Nelda had never grown out of her stuck-up hatred for hybrids, that was apparent. Slowly, Alice scooped Magda into her hand, and stowed the little triple hybrid in her long hair. And then, with a tongue barbed like a fence, Alice responded, "Yes, Nelda. This is my daughter, Magda. She is a hybrid."

Nelda looked shocked, although whether the shock came from Alice's defensive tone or the fact that Magda looked nothing like her mother. But, like the tides pushed water through the ocean, disdain slowly flowed back into Nelda's eyes.
"...I am sorry." Nelda apologized. ...Did Nelda think she was disappointed that Magda was a hybrid now?? Before, she had been… perturbed by it… but she had grown over these long years. And Nelda apparently had not.
"No need to apologize. Magda is the pride and joy of my life." Alice's eyes boiled with anger at this ex-friend before her.
Nelda saw that she had said something wrong instantly, and took several steps back. "...You certainly've changed, Alice. Have fun with that... Magda... then." she muttered sarcastically, and dashed off into the meadow, towards the forest.

Finally, Alice understood. She had understood for many years… but, finally, she fully understood. The life of a hybrid, the life of a pure Pokemon- in the end, it did not matter. It was what was inside that truly counted. Personality, not appearance. For so many years, Alice had been stuck on the idea that, somehow, being a hybrid made one more special, or more skilled or more important than another. That was untrue; every Pokemon was special, skilled and important, especially Magda and Alice- but for opposing reasons. But that did not make either of them less special.

Alice and Magda talked sparingly on the way home. Sorrelmask ran up to them once to make sure that Magda was all right. Of course, Magda was, and the mother and daughter continued all the way home.

"So what was this about a special gift?" Magda asked upon returning home. That was correct- Alice had been about to wrap the hairpin when she had gone to check on Magda- well, there was no time to wrap it now.

"Wait one moment." Alice let Magda sit in the chair in the front room as she went and retrieved the hairpin. Just holding it brought back memories: her joy at the gift, her distress at its properties. It just went to show that not all gifts were good. Some hindered more than they helped… "Happy birthday, Magda… this is a gift for you." Alice cooed, and handed the hairpin to Magda's hand-tail.
Magda's sightless eyes blinked as she felt the foreign object. "What is it?" she meowed, perplexed.
"It is a special hair ornament, it is very old, and it now belongs to you." Alice replied simply. She caught a glimpse of the Wimpod's eye… it looked pleased to finally be a whole-hearted gift, as opposed to what it had always been in the past. Something told Alice that she had not been the first pure Hatterene to hold it. Was she over-romanticising this? Possibly, but Alice had always been one for the romantics. "It's shaped like a Wimpod- and it is very important. Please, always keep it safe." her eyes filled with tears that she wiped from her face with her hat-hand. Not with you at all times. But keep it safe.

"It must have taken years to craft it so nice- where did you find it?" Magda inquired of her mother.
"That's not important right now. What is, is that it is here to protect you, and you will protect it." Alice responded gently; thinking on the past would only make her angry and disappointed again. No, what mattered was that right here, right now, the hairpin had finally made its way to its true owner.

"May I put it in my hair?" Magda asked as she clumsily attempted to fit the hairpin in her hair. Alice giggled, and carefully fastened the Wimpod in the short, unkempt locks. The tail stuck out of the side of her hat hair very slightly, but it looked like it fit. Like something that had been missing was finally returned.

"Thank you very much, mother!" Magda purred, and felt the hairpin with one of her ear-hands. "I promise to keep him safe, always and forever."

"Him?" Magda's mother echoed.
"Yes, I think Edgar is a good name for him. I'll always keep Edgar safe, mother." Magda purred, and rubbed her face against her mother's hat-hand. Tears instantly sprung to Alice's eyes, but she held back the torrents for a little longer.

"...Thank you, Magda, that means more than you could ever know to me." Alice did her best to keep her voice steady, with no success. "You are the joy of my life, Magda, always remember that."
"Yes, mother." Magda nodded, and smiled. "May I show Edgar to Sorrel now, please?" she asked politely, something Magda rarely did.
"Of course- but please, stay safe, and remember not to run into anyone." Alice nodded, but warned.
"I promise!" Magda meowed, and before Alice knew it, she was alone in the house once again.

Tears streamed down Alice's cheeks as she thought about the past. Yes, she could fault her mother for stopping her evolution… but if it had not been for her and the hairpin, she would have possibly never met Rymer. And if she had never met Rymer, she would have never met Magda. And that, that would have been far too terrible to even consider. Would she have ended up like Nelda, conceited and embittered towards all hybrids? What a childish thought, that a hybrid or a non-hybrid could be more important or special than one another. But, for many, many years, that had been all Alice could see. That if only she had been born differently she would have been more special. That she - and all non-hybrids - were not special.

Many years later, Alice did learn that hybrids could not evolve. And she felt an idiot for not realizing that until then. Magda felt no ill will toward her mother for the double meaning of the gift, however; in fact, Magda had been flattered that Alice had been concerned enough to try.

Alice the Hatenna's issue with hybrids had been a matter of pride and envy. But because of Magda and her troubles, Alice the Hatterene finally understood and internalized that there was nothing to be envious about. Everyone - hybrids and non-hybrids - had different skills and strengths and weaknesses, even different Pokemon in the same species. And there was no need to be envious about it.

And that, that is why Magda was Alice's most beloved being in the world, most beloved child, daughter, friend and even teacher. For although Magda was blind, she had opened her mother's eyes to the truths of life. And for that, Alice was eternally grateful.