POKÉMON: EMPIRE OF THE SUN

Written by Scott D. Harris & Hikari

Chapter 1: "The Runaways"

The first bell rang, signifying the start of the day's lessons. The pupils of Pokémon Tech, the new and the old, flocked in to begin their day. The dark-haired teacher of the beginner's class looked down at the book in her hands. It was a tome of local history, very old and very battered, but all the same a wealth of exciting stories. As her pupils walked in took their seats, she stood up and greeted them.

"Good morning, boys and girls," she said.

"Good morning, Ms Giselle," they replied in unison, under the instruction of their class representative.

"I hope you're all sitting comfortably," she said, "because today we're going to be doing something a little different to what you're used to. We'll be studying Kanto's rich history of pioneer Trainers. You'll find copies of the text book for this subject on your desks in front of you, so please open them up to page 10. Have you all done that?"

"Yes, Miss," they chorused.

"Excellent," she smiled. "Then let's begin…"

XXX

Centuries ago, Kanto was very different. Oh it was still filled with rolling hills, swirling rivers and grassy plains, but the people were different. Only those deemed noble of blood could travel on what was then known as the Poké-shugyo, the vital journey that every aspiring Pokémon Trainer takes to prove themselves. In those days, the capital of Kanto was Tokiwa, where the class difference was rife. The ruling families owned great amounts of land and had plentiful slaves, and none were so bountiful in these aspects as the Teishoku family, who governed a small township just outside the city, mainly as a beach-side retreat when the hustle and bustle of urban life grew too much for them. Presently, the family had just returned from the township and were back in their stately manor, just in time for their only daughter Aimi's 14TH birthday. Out in the grounds, a young slave was herding a few tamed Pokémon back into their respective stalls, but after a quick head-count realised one was missing. He hmm'd to himself and looked up into the nearest tree, where a small yellow-and-pink creature was tucked amongst the foliage.

"You again," he sighed and climbed up the trunk, having grown quite used to this particular troublemaker. The Cherrim huffed and closed its leaves around itself. The slave shook his head and picked up the squirming thing, hopped out of the branches and landed nimbly on the grassy earth. He set the would-be runaway down in its respective stall and wagged a finger at it in warning.

"You behave yourself," he told it. "I don't want any more mischief out of you." The Cherrim turned its metaphorical nose up and turned around.

"Beni," an aged voice called. The boy looked up to see the aged overseer looking down at him from the doors of the manor. "Princess Aimi has requested you be present for the battle in three hours time."

"What's the occasion?" Beni asked politely.

"Her birthday, of course," said the overseer.

"Oh," Beni cast his gaze to the stalls, "did she have an opponent in mind?"

"She's requested the Houndour they brought in last week," said the overseer.

"But that one hasn't healed yet!" the youth protested.

"That would be why she asked for it," the overseer shrugged. He turned and went back inside, leaving his young charge alone with his thoughts. Beni turned his attention to the stall at the far end and approached it cautiously. The black-and-crimson hell-hound inside sat curled in the corner, watching him with cautious eyes. It had recovered well since it was captured by the family's employed hunters, bruised and battered and bloodied, but still had some scratches and walked with a slight limp in one forepaw. The slave boy was thankful that it seemed to be a fast healer, as it had been denied the proper treatment the pets that lived inside the manor were given. Beni held out one hand slowly. The Houndour padded towards the hand, sniffed it and after a moment licked it.

"Sorry about this, boy," said Beni, opening the door of the stall so he could untie the rope around the Dark-Fire Pokémon's neck. "We need to put on a show for the Princess and her friends. If you throw the fight, I'll…" He paused to consider. "I'll get you a nice, juicy steak from the kitchens." The Houndour looked a little uncertain but the wagging of its tail betrayed its hopefulness.

XXX

The self-styled Princess Aimi, sole daughter of the Teishoku clan, was the personification of the spoilt brat. Even now, sitting in front of the mirror hanging on the wall of her expansive bedroom, she had one slave girl brushing her long, chocolate-coloured locks and no less than nine others parading numerous colourful and decorative kimonos for her to inspect, but despite all this luxury, she seemed woefully unimpressed and the slaves now feared for their necks.

"None of those," whined Aimi. "They're all old!"

"But Princess," one slave was brave enough to argue, "this one was finished just this morning."

"Well, I want something red!" Aimi wailed spitefully. Lady Teishoku burst into the room to see what all the fuss was about. Once she had ascertained the situation, she knelt down in front of her pouting daughter.

"Darling, why don't you wear one of my kimonos with your new obi?" she suggested. "They're all in pristine condition. Nobody will know they're not brand new."

"I'll know!" Aimi snapped.

"But imagine how grown up you'll look in front of your friends," Lady Teishoku pointed out. She had grown up with several sisters and knew from experience that this was the perfect incentive to calm the situation, and indeed Aimi did pause to contemplate this. Finally, she conceded with a slight nod.

"Has the entertainment been ordered?" she asked, attempting to sound older and more sophisticated than she was.

"Last I heard, they were just finishing the preparations."

The hour of the battle came and went. Due to his still fragile state, it did not take much effort for Houndour to throw the fight. As he lay on his side, Aimi's Purugly glared at him in its usual air of superiority. The fat feline mockingly ran its tail over the hell-hound's back before plodding back to its master for a congratulatory grooming, its round body swaggering with each delicate footfall. Beni could sense Houndour's irritation and stroked his head.

"Easy," he said quietly, "we both know that at full strength you could have eaten that thing for lunch. That counts for something, right?" The Pokémon snorted in aggravation as Purugly poked its tongue out at him. As the slave and his partner were excused and left, Beni caught a glimpse of the 'princess,' receiving her presents. The first was a rather sullen Ninetales, which had been hatched, tutored in the best fire-based Technique Machines money could buy and then evolved all in the span of 48 hours. He knew this because he had been the one to handle it when it was a newly born Vulpix. The miserable, tired beast lowered its head and put one paw over its eyes. Poor thing, Beni thought, it doesn't know up from down.

"Look at that," said one of the visiting girls, "it's bowing out of respect!"

XXX

Beni was a boy of his word. In the stalls, Houndour was finishing a particularly filling steak while having his head stroked. He was satisfied, and the boy found this new companionship with fondness. Their tranquillity, however, was interrupted by a cry that could split the very sound barrier.

"YOU! SLAVE BOY!"

Beni leapt to his feet and went to the door of the stall to see Aimi waiting for him. Her arms were crossed in front of her and she had a face like thunder. In her bright clothes that were just a touch too big for her and her naturally plump, pouting lips, she looked quite comical.

"You screamed?"

"What was the meaning of that horrible performance?" she demanded.

"I have no idea what you mean," replied Beni.

"Did you want my friends to think you lost on purpose?"

"My Lady," the slave took a slightly sarcastic edge to his tone, "we were asked to lose, not to make it look convincing."

"I don't care!" she shrieked, slapping him with strength that was surprising for a girl her size. Beni was so caught off-guard that he actually stumbled. "Be thankful if you still have a place here come tomorrow morning! As for that filthy animal…" She glared at the Houndour and her voice dropped dangerously. "Have it removed."

"R…removed?" Beni felt a chill run down his spine. "But-"

"'But,' nothing! That odious thing is an insult to my pride!" Aimi hissed. "Now either you deal with it or I'll deal with you both! End of discussion!" With that, she took her leave of them and stormed back into the manor. Once she was out of sight, Beni hunkered down and went back to stroking Hondour's head.

"Well, pal," he said, "it looks like we've only got two choices. I let you die or…" He paused to sigh. "This won't be easy."

When night came, Beni crept up to the bedroom of one of Aimi's brothers, who was staying at another manor with friends. The room faced the fields, because this particular brother enjoyed watching the family's horses at play, often riding with them on his personal Rapidash. All of the horses were presently sleeping, leaving no risk of discovery right now. The slave gently prised open the door and entered the room. It was a perfectly square office where the young master went about his studies to become a great scholar. The shelves were full of scrolls and other academic items of note, and Beni noticed at the far end, a door that was slightly ajar through which he could see the elegantly furnished bedroom. A plan already formed in his mind, he proceeded to ransack both rooms. From the bedroom he pinched a Hessian sack and filled it with some clothes and the contents of a money-box. He also retrieved some fruit from the bowl in the office and noticed a rolled up scroll made from a rare and valuable red material. Believing it would fetch him a good price once his pilfered wealth had run out, that also went in with the rest. He tied a rope around the reluctant Houndour's neck – "It has to look authentic," he told the creature – then slung the sack over his shoulder and made his way to the gates.

The guardsman on duty there lowered his sword to block their way.

"Where are you going, slave?" he asked, not rudely but authoritatively.

"I'm under orders from Mistress Aimi to get rid of this Pokémon," Beni replied. "Lord and Lady Teishoku suggested I deliver it to the market in Tamamushi along with all this." He gave his loot a gentle shake for emphasis. The guardsman considered this, then nodded and signalled to his companions to open the gate and grant the slave passage.

An hour passed between then and when the new runaways stopped for a rest. Beni undid the rope around Houndour's neck and stuck it in the sack with the rest of his 'belongings.'

"There," he said, "no rope to control you, and no Apricorn to hold you. You're as free as a bird, just don't get caught again. Good luck, my friend." Now that was over with, he got up and started down the road to the nearest city, and hopefully a new life. A little way along, he heard soft, padded footsteps. He stopped and turned, and there sat the Houndour, looking up at him with his head tilted every so slightly to the right.

"Go on," the former slave urged, "I'm not going to keep you, go back to where you belong." The Houndour responded by coming closer and rubbing his head against the boy's leg. Beni sighed, then smiled. "All right, looks like we'll be travelling companions, but just so you know, I have no idea where I'm going."

The Houndour barked happily in response.