Chapter 12: The Hammer and the Mountain
The mountain plateau of Phaltu was quiet in a different way.
Not the hush of a forest wrapped in leaves and birdsong—but a broader silence, open and exposed. Wind brushed across stone instead of branches, carrying the faint metallic scent of ore buried beneath layers of earth. The plateau wasn't large. It rose gently above the surrounding forest, like a forgotten shelf of land that nature had decided not to claim completely.
For a Pokémon like Tinkatink, this place mattered.
She trudged across the rocky ground on short legs, eyes scanning every crevice, every shard of metal half-buried in stone. Her little hammer—normally never far from her grasp—was gone.
She didn't understand how.
One moment it had been there, resting against a rock while she pried loose a promising fragment of scrap. The next… nothing. No familiar weight in her hands. No comforting clink when she dragged it behind her.
At first, she thought it was a game.
She looked behind her. Checked beneath rocks. Dug clumsily with her hands. When that didn't work, she climbed a small boulder, peering down like the extra height might reveal it.
Nothing.
Her chest tightened.
The hammer wasn't just a tool.
It was her work. Her effort. Every scrape and dent told a story of places she'd explored, metals she'd gathered, mistakes she'd fixed. Without it, she was… unfinished.
Her lower lip trembled.
She dropped onto a small rock near the center of the plateau and looked around helplessly. Wind tugged at her pink hair. Her hands clenched and unclenched.
Then she cried.
Not loud at first. Just a thin, broken sound that caught in her throat. When that didn't bring the hammer back, the sound grew louder—full sobs echoing off stone.
---
Aarav hadn't planned on reaching a mountain plateau.
He'd been following the forest's edge, letting curiosity guide him rather than a map. The trees had gradually thinned, roots giving way to stone, until he found himself climbing a narrow slope that opened into the plateau.
He paused, shading his eyes.
"…Did you hear that?" he asked softly.
Beside him, Ting-Lu stopped as well.
Its ears twitched.
Aarav listened.
There it was again.
Crying.
High-pitched. Distinct. Definitely Pokémon.
Aarav's posture shifted instantly.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's check it out."
They moved carefully.
The plateau was open, and Aarav didn't want to startle whoever—or whatever—was making that sound. As he crested a small rise, he spotted her.
A small pink Pokémon sat on a rock, shoulders shaking as she cried. Her hands were empty. Her posture was slumped, exhausted with frustration.
Aarav recognized her immediately.
"…Tinkatink," he whispered.
Ting-Lu's presence caused the ground to darken faintly beneath its hooves.
The Tinkatink noticed.
She looked up.
For half a second, fear flashed across her face—eyes widening at the sight of a human and a large Pokémon behind him.
She scooted back instinctively, clutching her arms to her chest.
Aarav froze.
"It's okay," he said quickly, lowering himself into a crouch. "I'm not here to hurt you."
He raised his hands slowly, palms open.
Ting-Lu, sensing the tension, stepped back a pace and lowered its head, deliberately making itself less imposing.
The ground lightened.
The Tinkatink hesitated.
Her eyes flicked between Aarav and Ting-Lu. The crying softened into sniffles.
Aarav glanced around.
"No hammer?" he asked gently, even though he knew she couldn't understand the words.
But she understood the tone.
Her face crumpled again, and she shook her head vigorously, pointing at the empty space beside her.
Lost.
Aarav nodded.
"Alright," he said softly. "We'll find it."
He stood slowly and looked around the plateau.
Metal wasn't rare here—but small, well-used tools could easily blend into the landscape. A dropped hammer could roll. Could slide. Could even fall into a crack.
He began scanning methodically.
Ting-Lu joined him, stepping carefully, nostrils flaring slightly as it sniffed the air. Its senses weren't tuned for metal specifically—but it noticed absence. Disturbance. Something out of place.
Aarav crouched near a pile of loose stones and shifted them one by one.
Nothing.
He moved toward a jagged rock face, checking shallow crevices.
Still nothing.
The Tinkatink watched anxiously, hands clenched. She didn't dare move closer, but she couldn't look away.
Aarav paused.
"Think," he muttered. "If I were a hammer…"
He retraced her likely path mentally. The area where scrap metal fragments were scattered. A slight slope leading downward.
He followed it.
Near the edge of the plateau, where stone met a shallow dip filled with leaves and debris, something caught the light.
A dull metallic sheen.
Aarav's breath hitched.
"There you are."
He knelt and brushed away leaves.
The hammer lay wedged between two rocks, scratched but intact.
Aarav lifted it carefully.
It was heavier than it looked.
"Well built," he murmured.
He turned back.
The Tinkatink had climbed down from her rock, eyes wide, trembling with anticipation. She froze when she saw the hammer in his hands.
Aarav lowered himself again and placed the hammer gently on the ground between them.
"There," he said softly. "Yours."
For a heartbeat, she didn't move.
Then she rushed forward.
She grabbed the hammer with both hands and pulled it close, pressing her face against it. Her sobs turned into relieved hiccups. She hugged it like it might disappear again if she loosened her grip.
Aarav smiled.
Ting-Lu let out a low, approving sound.
The Tinkatink looked up.
She stared at Aarav.
Then at Ting-Lu.
Then back at Aarav.
Slowly, cautiously, she stepped closer.
Aarav stayed still.
She reached out and poked his shoe.
Aarav suppressed a laugh.
"Yes," he said quietly. "I'm real."
She nodded to herself, then took another step closer, gripping her hammer defensively—but not threateningly.
Trust, forming.
She tapped the ground once with the hammer, then pointed at it, then at Aarav.
Aarav nodded.
"You worked hard on it," he said. "You shouldn't lose something like that."
The words didn't matter.
The intention did.
She relaxed.
Fully.
The Tinkatink walked past Aarav and approached Ting-Lu, craning her neck to look up at the massive Pokémon. Ting-Lu didn't move—just lowered its head slightly so she could see its eyes.
She stared for a long moment.
Then she smiled.
A real smile.
She tapped her hammer lightly against the ground, as if declaring something important.
Aarav felt it.
Not a contract.
Not a capture.
Just connection.
The plateau felt warmer.
Safer.
Aarav stood slowly.
"Well," he murmured, "looks like today was worth the walk."
The Tinkatink climbed back onto her rock, hammer secure, watching them with bright, curious eyes.
Aarav turned to leave, but paused.
He looked back.
She waved.
Awkwardly.
Hammer nearly slipping from her grasp again.
Aarav laughed quietly and raised a hand in return.
Ting-Lu followed him as they descended from the plateau, the forest welcoming them back into green and shadow.
Behind them, on a small mountain shelf surrounded by trees, a Tinkatink resumed her work—hammer striking stone with renewed purpose.