Isabella

Kalosian summers, particularly near the west coast, were famous. The weather was positively lovely throughout the entirety of the season, save the occasional thunderstorm. Many from across the region would flock to the beaches along Cyllage and Ambrette to relax, frolic, and elope to relieve their electrically charged romances.

The latter was more common than one would imagine.

It was hard to resist the pull to go and sunbathe, swim, play with your friends and your Pokemon, or again: relieve thine-self of some pent up romance. Especially on a day such as that one. The sun was a clear ball of light in the sky, with only small, wispy white clouds to block its radiance every so often. The breeze rolled off the ocean and brought its taste and scent along with it. To say it was enticing would be a slight to its allure.

Much as I loved the beach, my summer tan a testament to that statement, it was not the beach that I chose to spend that particularly wonderful day.

It was along Route 10, known to both tourists and locals as Menhir Trail, that I walked. Thankfully it was the perfect day to pay the area a solitary visit. With weather as gorgeous as it was only the most fanatical tourists would waste it walking among the old memorial stones as I did.

I brought my hand up and lightly let my fingertips graze over the side of one said memorial stone. Each was larger than I, in both height and width, and had old Kalosian engraved on their fronts. They read: "For the fallen, the innocent, the lost, we will not weep. For they are with us always, and yet lie in a better beyond."

...A rough translation, at best. Even dedicated historians struggle with old Kalosian. The language is said to predate the region itself, after all. Most of Kalos spoke either modern Kalosian, Common, or both. Old Kalosian died out centuries past.

Though the phrase in the center of the memorial stone was always the same, the words on the bottom of each stone always differed. Only natural, as those words were always the names of the fallen. Whoever was put to rest beneath the memorial stone would have their name engraved upon it. A single word, as those graves were only for Pokemon, and most Pokemon did not take surnames. Especially not in the modern era.

It did not take me too long to find the stone I sought. The grass around me rustled, no doubt the movements of the ever-vigilant Golett. Gifts from our Unovan cousins, the Golett were loaned to Kalos to serve as guardians of Menhir Trail. Kalos considered the graveyard to be one of its most sacred locations, and would not tolerate desecration of any kind.

And there never was. The Golett saw to that.

I looked down at the skirt I wore. Rather plain for my tastes, but it was black and that was my sole requirement. I flattened the hem before I knelt down carefully on the short grass, the blades tickling my knees immediately. My gaze was fixed on the stone that stood tall before me, and after a moment's pause I decided to read it out loud.

"For the fallen, the innocent, the lost, I will not weep..." Another breath, "For they are with us always, yet lie in a better beyond,"

My grey eyes scanned down to the bottom of the stone. The Pokemon's name was clear, no translation or prior knowledge required to speak it. Old Kalosian was as dead a language as ancient Sinnoan, after all, and this Pokemon died in the modern era. A stone had been erected out of respect, no doubt it cost a fortune to have it made and engraved, but as such its name had been given to it in the modern era, in the common language.

Yet as I tried to speak it, it caught onto my tongue, like a Krabby on my fingertip.

So rather than force it I merely stared at the stone in silence. If I could not pay my respects in the old way, than perhaps a moment of silence would do.

I took one last breath and closed my eyes. Before me I envisioned the Pokemon. Its white face, its kind brown eyes. They gazed into my eyes as softly as ever. The sight was calming, wonderfully so, but I knew it was but an image in my mind. Those eyes would never meet mine again.

"I figured I'd find you here, Isabella."

My eyes shot open and I immediately found myself caught between two reactions. A part of me wanted to berate the voice for disturbing my moment of silence. Thankfully, the reasonable part of my mind recognized both the voice and the fact that screaming would be an even greater slight to the ambiance.

I looked over my shoulder and saw a tall young man, dressed in blue track pants and a white undershirt. The attire certainly suited the weather...but...

"You really came here dressed like that?" I couldn't help but scoff, "Mon dieu...It's a good thing the dead cannot see."

Thankfully the dark haired man just laughed quietly, and his reaction brought a small smile to my lips.

"Glad you're not as mopey as I feared you'd be," he replied before he walked up beside me. With a stretch the young man sat beside me, his brownish-red eyes meeting mine, before he winced, "Still with the contacts?"

"I like the look," I answered sharply. Perhaps I was a bit too curt, as a half a minute of silence followed my answer. It was an uncomfortable silence, so I decided to break it, "You just come here to bask in my presence, then? Or did you have something to say?"

"Well, for one, I brought you something," Calem stated evenly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope. He passed it to me and I took it, my eyes immediately fixed on the envelope's seal. The crest was easily recognizable as that of Unova's House Harmonia, a House that has fallen quite far since ancient times. Unova still liked to use the Harmonia seal in honour of their history, however; so no doubt this was sent from some higher up either in the government or the Pokemon League.

I turned the envelope over and read whom it was addressed to: "Champion Isabella d'Voitre,"

"It was in your mailbox back home. Grace asked if I could pass it off to you when I saw you next," Calem explained. Intriguing, to say the least. I'd have to check it later to see what Unova wanted with me.

"Thank you, Calem," I said with a nod and held the envelope carefully. My outfit had no pockets and I had brought no bag, only my pokeball belt.

"Aside from that I just wanted to make sure you were okay, you know? Once I found out you weren't at the League I figured I'd uh...hunt you down," The young man explained with a sheepish chuckle and a scratch of his head. Both of his tells in one sentence? It seemed I was in the presence of a liar.

A rather poor one at that.

"You didn't check the League," I stated with a wry smile, "You were already in the area before you realized what day it was. Probably told Shauna you needed a bit of a break before the next round and wandered out to find me."

I was rewarded with a stunned blink and the reddening of his cheeks. Caught and exposed, Calem never really could handle both at once.

"E-eh? How did you know about-"

"Shauna?" My wry smile evolved into a grin most certainly wicked, "You two don't get to see each other as often, correct? Surely you had to elope before summers end. Rub out some stress? Some...tension?"

"All right, all right!" Calem blurted out, flustered beyond measure. I burst out in victorious laughter at his reaction while he shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, I'm here with Shauna...for exactly the reasons you think. But what does that matter?"

"Ah, it doesn't. I just wanted to watch you squirm like the good old days," I answered simply, my grin still present on my features.

"Mhm," Calem grunted as he relaxed once again, "Some things never change,"

Good. Too much change was too stressful. Perhaps I had teased Calem like this one time too many in the past to do it again, but was it really so wrong to relive the good memories?

"So, uh..." Ah, Calem's old habit. There was a certain stereotype that Kalosian men, and women, were extremely outgoing and social, if a bit self-centered. Every Kalosian is fully aware of the stereotype and most, at least myself, admit that it has its merits. It is simply the way we are raised. Large family gatherings, cross-family gatherings, very tight knit neighbourhoods. They all serve to promote our social skills from a very young age.

Then there is Calem who, despite having a childhood that included numerous instances of the above situations, remained rather shy. Proof that all people are different, regardless of habitat. Calem used to stutter and stammer before we had begun our journeys, especially towards me. Of course that may have been my own fault, but I digress.

When he got nervous, anxious, or wanted to say something but was uncertain either how to word it or how it would be perceived, he fell back into that stammer. I had hoped his courtship of the bundle of energy we call Shauna would aid his shy nature, but it could only do so much.

"Yes, Calem?" I asked, doing my best to keep patient with him. He chuckled a bit awkwardly and shuffled a bit from side to side.

"How's championhood?"

"Sorry, championhood?" I asked with amusement, "Did you just make that word up?"

"Ugh," Calem groaned, a blush returning to his cheeks yet again, "I meant what is it like, being the champion? You never do talk about it when we meet up."

"That's because it is dreadfully dull," I replied with an idle wave of my hand. I raised my other hand and tapped on my index finger, preparing to count down using my fingers. "You and I were among but twenty trainers that obtained all eight badges of Kalos last year. You and I were the first to actually make it out of Victory Road in four months. I was the first trainer to beat every member of the elite four in a year. I was the first trainer to defeat the champion in over five years."

Calem watched me count down before he looked at me with an inquisitive expression, so I hurried on to elaborate. "There are no challengers. Zéro. I haven't faced a single one since I obtained the title. All the work I've done as champion has been as a political figurehead. Mindless nonsense that, merely making the occasional appearance at a gathering between politicians and aristocrats."

"Sounds like you hate it," Calem replied. To that I gave a simple shrug.

"I do not hate it, per se. It's just dull more often than not..." I couldn't help but grin as I continued, "Granted the attention from the media, and the contracts I've gotten do sweeten the deal just a little bit. Not everybody gets to model for the cover of Lumiose Weekly,"

The dark haired man rolled his eyes but smirked, just a tad. Ah, see? Just like that his shyness had evaporated. It seemed it only plagued him in certain situations...good. He was probably much happier, if that was the case.

"You are rather photogenic, and it sort of follows after your mother's footsteps. Didn't Grace model for some magazine overseas?"

I nearly snorted with laughter, "My mother? No, goodness no. They did offer her a contract but she refused it. Said she didn't want to glorify a 'muddy, rough sport' like Rhyhorn racing."

Calem joined in with my laughter and gave a nod, "Yep, sounds just like her."

There was silence after our laughter died down. It really was refreshing to be reminded that, even if I had become champion, Calem was still my friend.

"Anyway, you sure you're all right? I mean, it is the anniversary," Calem paused before continuing, "Though when I say that, it almost sounds like we should be celebrating."

I thought on his question for a moment. It was indeed the 'anniversaire' of that Pokemon's passing. The first one I've ever had to suffer through. Calem was too kind; to go out of his way to make sure I was okay. It wasn't like it had been his Pokemon.

"Of course. I am...merely paying my respects," I finally spoke as I got to my feet. The day was still young. I had paid my respects and there was no sense in spending the rest of the day riddled with melancholy. With a careful toss of my hair I turned to Calem and put a hand on my hip, "Now, Calem, would you be so kind as to escort me back to the beach? Like a proper gentleman would?"

Calem blinked at me before he slowly stood up, "Uh...yeah, so long as you're-"

"I'm fine, Calem," I stated sternly. He seemed unconvinced, so I gave him the best smile I could muster, "C'est la vie, oui?"

Calem squinted at me with scrutiny in an effort to determine whether or not my smile was genuine. He knew me well enough to know that I would put up a front if I felt like I needed to. I didn't need to that time, but I didn't want Calem to worry over me. My problem was not his problem; (semicolon time) my pain was not his pain.

With a sigh Calem gave up trying to spot the crack in my mask, "Ah, oui."

He gestured for me to follow him and started to walk south, towards Cyllage City. I took a step after him and paused to look back at the memorial stone once more. My eyes were drawn to the name at the bottom of the stone.

"Au revoir, Lancelot" I whispered softly, "May you rest in peace."

Pokemon Centers in Kalos came equipped with a few changing rooms. For a region that put such a heavy focus on fashion it was only natural that this was the case. Otherwise one would have to ask for a room, which was thankfully free, just to change their outfit. A waste of time for both the staff and the trainers.

Of course one could always rent a hotel, that much was true, but they were costly and they tended to be bought out by tourists and businessmen. As such trainers almost always stayed in Pokemon Center rooms or camped out. A healthy mix of the two was recommended for travelling trainers. You learned nothing from being cooped up in a room, but it was good to get some solid sleep under the roof of a Pokemon Center from time to time.

Thankfully I was in no need of a room. I waltzed into the Pokemon Center and straight to a free change room. I had left my bag with the Cyllage Pokemon Center staff, which contained a few key changes to my outfit, but the number of different outfits I owned was vast. It was thanks to the PC storage system that I could access every single outfit from any change room.

Each room came equipped with a small PC. You simply logged into your account, withdrew whichever items you needed, and stored what you didn't. It was no different than using it for battle items or Pokemon. I would be a liar if I said I had used this function less than the standard PC functions.

Before I focused on selecting the best bikini for that day I instead took a good look in the mirror. My golden blonde hair was in good condition. I still wore it long and it accentuated my tan in a way I was quite proud of. The grey contacts...I would keep them in. They were completely waterproof, thankfully, so there was no harm in that at all.

I then lifted the envelope Calem had given me up to my face. Did I read it now?

I decided that I should, and carefully opened it to pull out the letter within.

"Dear Isabella d'Voitre, 25th Kalos Champion,

Unova would be honoured if you were to attend the grand opening of the Pokemon World Tournament, or PWT, in our very own Driftveil City. The tournament will gather elite trainers, League or not, from every region across the world to battle in a series of gauntlets.

The PWT officially opens on September 23rd, approximately two months after this letter was mailed. We hope you and many others from Kalos will join us that day.

-Champion Willow Bellford, 22nd of Kalos"

The Pokemon World Tournament, hmm? It would be a very welcome break from the dull life being champion had earned me. There would be battles, there would be media coverage, and I would have the chance to show off the best Kalos had to offer in front of the entire world let alone Unova. I could bring our best fashion; I would have to. Looking anything other than my best was not an option.

Would the other champions attend as well? If they did then not only would I be able to battle again, but I could face others who could be called my equal for the first time in nearly a year. Legends like Gary "Blue" Oak of Kanto, or perhaps "Red", the one that usurped him for a day. Those Tohjo...ah, that was no longer correct. Those Kanto Champions were quite famous across the world, yet only so much was known about them. To have the opportunity to battle against them and others like them was one I could not pass up.

I couldn't help but grin. It seemed that, after I met with Shauna and Calem on the beach, I'd have to make for the League and begin to pack.

"Unova won't know what hit them."

Welcome, one and all. FallenVanguard here.

I am an author with an incredulous number of failed projects that, thankfully, have been removed from the site. Seriously, the number has got to be in the twenties at least, and that's rather embarrassing.

But with every failure there was at least one lesson learned. Number One: Never take on more than you can handle.

I waited a long time to start up my other project. Months. For this one I waited for some critical life things to be sorted out, so I could give it and my other story the time they deserve.

That time has come.