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The courier handed Sampson the letter and began searching through his bag as the recipient ripped open the encasing envelope and began to read its contents. It was addressed to him, albeit in a rather awkward manner:

--"To the one named Sampson:
I apologize--after further research into your history, I have come to the conclusion, you and your companion were at the wrong place at the wrong time. In my pursuit of a vigilante gone awry I had assumed he had swayed you to his cause, and treated you as my enemies. Rather than let bitter feelings go unattended, I have a gift for you in the hopes you can one day be a respectable trainer that I can admire.
--Signed,
[here the name is smeared by grime and water droplets]"

Looking back at the courier, Sampson now noticed that the young man was offering him a Pokeball. Hmph, the trainer thought, Some gift. It's just a regular Pokeball. What could he possibly hope to "clear up" with so meager a present? In accordance with this pessimistic and cynical train of thought, he absentmindedly grabbed at the Pokeball, unaware that he accidentally pushed the button on its front, which caused the ball to open up and release a red beam of light. Everyone in the Pokecenter stood dumbfounded as, right before their eyes, a Niklus materialized from the contents of the ball and looked around, wondering at its surroundings.

A random person from among the crowd could be heard voicing his disbelief, "They're real?!?!?!?" Sampson hurriedly reached into the cavernous left pocket of his sweatpants and pulled out his Pokedex to scan the creature. It announced that Niklus was genderless, Level 5, a rare Magic-type, possessed the ability White Out, and knew the attacks Poof!, Mount, Present and Heal Bell. As Sampson noticed upon closer inspection, the little fellow also had a Soothe Bell around its neck.

Simultaneously to him kneeling down for a closer inspection of the Pokemon, it gave a surprisingly hearty laugh for so small a creature and embraced him with intense vigor, knocking him over.

"Aren't you strong for such a little guy?" rhetorically quizzed the young man as he laughed equally heartily in response to the overzealous hug. "I think I know what I'm gonna call you: Tyreisias!" The Niklus cocked in head in a pondering manner, to which Sampson responded, "Or how about 'Rei' for short?" At this, the Pokemon looped through the air with joy before lighting back upon its new trainer's chest. After this, his more gentlemanly etiquette drove him to write a response for the courier to give to the man should he ever see or hear of him again. He did so in isolation, making the letter more private and personal, including asking more about the situation they had experienced and the two sides involved. He eventually hoped to become enlightened enough that, once he was stronger and more knowledgeable, he could help the man in his righteous cause. Heroic notions, yes, but Sampson most assuredly felt them not to be delusions of grandeur.
----------------------------
After having his Pokemon all healed, Sampson waited until the city gates and let every one of them out to stretch their legs and meet their new cohort. The introductions were trivial, all of his other Pokemon having a naturally stunned and interested reaction to nearly all Magic-types. The young man pondered over how amazing it was that the natural instincts of Pokemon could distinguish so much about them and their course of action. Shortly thereafter, Sampson's other Pokemon, Neo especially, realized how weak Rei was in comparison to them and immediately began to challenge the Magic-type to a series of mock battles. Battle tutors, Ha! What a hilarious thing to watch. But the trainer couldn't help but smile at the notion that his Pokemon thought themselves gladiators of the modern age. He had given them the nicknames that originally belonged to great warriors, he conceded as his own part in the notion.

"Sampson," Delilah impatiently called--she had been uncharacteristically quiet since the Pokecenter, most likely upset at having not received a gift from the dark-haired man--to Sampson's surprise, "Can we please go visit Shada now? If we do not make it there soon, she will worry that we have lost or gotten mugged or worse...kidnapped again!" The transparency of this statement was by no means even attempting to conceal itself, but the young man nodded his agreement, only wondering if he should have missed so much of the conversation between Delilah and the old lady as to have avoided hearing anything at all about their kidnapping. Such a person could not help but be sympathetic, Sampson reasoned and pressed the worriedness to the back of his mind. He instead engaged himself in getting out his jacket from his backpack and placing it around the shoulders of his more slender companion, the wind coming from the east. The cold was brought on because the wind was carrying it all the way from Askorun Town and the frigid wasteland beyond, which also happened to be the direction in which the pair was heading for Shada's shack was this way.