Chapter 1:
The harsh sun and the millions upon millions of tiny bits of sand that whipped at hurricane speeds most of the year made the Great Desert of Hoenn one of the most dangerous places on earth. The temperatures skyrocketed to thirty degrees over one hundred on average, and the vicious pokemon that had adapted to the harsh environment were tough as nails and prone to violence. The Great Hoenn Desert was one thousand five hundred Wailords around. Due to its placement between two large mountain ranges the desert was almost always one giant sandstorm.
All these factors run through my head as don my desert goggles and shimmy my way down by rope into it's most treacherous area. The Dol Ruins are one of the most dangerous areas in Hoenn, nearly a mile underground they are notoriously difficult to reach unaided, not only that they are swarming with the dual rock-psychic type Pokemon of the Baydol tree. The standard Baydol is incredibly passive, but also ridiculously territorial, and their evolution loses any passiveness in exchange for the ability to launch Hyper Beams.
'Why am I down here again?' I ask myself as I land quietly... sort of on the cave floor. 'Oh that's right, some rich dude is too lazy to get a Baydol himself, so decides to pay an unlicensed fifteen year old to go catch one.' I don't dare grumble out loud. Baydol don't have great eyesight, on account of them being floating rocks. they do though have great hearing.
You might be asking yourself, is this kid crazy? Or maybe just dumb? Or maybe you're too angry that I'm making you watch these memories from the start, to really care. Well suck it up, if you want these secrets you're getting the WHOLE story.
So there I was crouched under some rocks as I made my way further into the ruins. Most Baydol are solitary creatures, they only congregate in these ruins during "breeding". I work at a Pokemon Daycare and couldn't tell you what they do. Anyway, these guys will usually stake out certain areas of the desert and stay there for decades. My goal is to target a weaker one on the outskirts of the camps, capture it without alerting the others, and then make my escape.
My mentor Watson, used to say plans only work till first contact. Looking back at it now that makes a whole bunch of sense. According to plan I snuck around the ruins avoiding the wandering Baydol and making sure to stay as far away from the floating death laser Claydols. Eventually I found a loners ways away from the main ruins. It was a little on the smaller side compared to the others that populated the ruins, but that usually meant it was younger.
As an unlicensed Pokemon hunter there were many tricks to the trade. Without a Pokemon direct confrontation was impossible, as was maintaining any status effects directly, but creativity brought me my solution to these problems.
You see, aside from Cacnea, which weren't really hot commodities on the market. Most of the Pokemon of the desert are rock or ground types. Sandshrew, Sandslash, Trapinch, and Baydol all fell into a category of types that just so happened to have a very accessible weakness. Water. High doses of water usually frightened them, high impact high doses with a little sleeping powder mixed in that I procured from a very friendly Oddish made for the perfect Pokemon catching tool.
I pulled off my backpack and reached in pulling out two water balloons filled with the aforementioned concoction. I then took out a Great ball that I had spent a week's earnings on and rested it right beside the balloons. I sighed quietly, if all went well I'd beam the Baydol right in the head with the balloon and let the fast acting poison work it's magic. A quick toss of a Great ball would get me a brand spanking new Pokemon.
I rather suitable quote comes to mind when I remember this adventure. "If you ever piss off a psychic pokemon, you'd better catch it or kilI it, before it flays you into a vegetable with it's mind." With thoughts of an ominous doom at the forefront of my mind I rushed from my hiding spot running parallel to the Baydol. My sudden movement had startled it, I couldn't really tell if it was sleeping before. I launched the first balloon in a perfect fastball straight at the statuesque Pokemon, only for it to be halted by a barrier of blue-psychic light.
'Huh' I paused. 'I didn't even think about that.' I really should've thought of a plan B. So in a flash of inspiration drawn from crippling fear I made one up. In a flash of brilliance or suicidal stupidity; I rushed the Baydol the second balloon in one hand the Great ball in the other. With a quick flick of my wrist I sent both flying one after the other, The psychic pokemon focused on the two moving projectiles halting them with the same ability, but with it's attention diverted I saw it's hold on the first give way. I dove and grabbed the balloon before it crashed to the floor. I scrambled to my feet forward with it in one hand as I lunged at the Pokemon. I smashed the balloon right into the markings where the eyes should have been with all my might.
When I say fast-acting, I mean fast-acting, the Oddish I procured the powder from was a friendly little plant that I had personally seen sedate a rampaging Bagon. So against the weaker Baydol, the poison took effect in seconds, I managed to grab the heavy ass statue before it crashed to the ground, possibly alerting the whole cavern. I set it gently down and grabbed the blue and red Pokeball quickly. I dialed in the laser to be ultra tight as to keep it from signalling to every Pokemon in a mile radius of an intruder.
The satisfying final tick as the Baydol was officially caught was music to my ears. I could practically taste all that cash I was I about to get. I pocketed the ball and made my way out of the ruins the way I had came.
I had climbed halfway out of the large cavern before I heard it. I dull thrumming sound suddenly filled the cavern. It rattled my teeth like I was standing next to the famous Foghorn of Slateport City, I looked down and the ruins were bathed in an eerie red lights hundreds of Baydol and Claydol floated 'angrily' if that was possible around the pillars and ancient stone. With a newfound vigor I ascended up the rope, I threw myself up onto the ledge that lead out of caves, just as a very irritated Claydol passed underneath. For the second time I breathed a sigh of relief as I began the slow journey back to the desert basin. On the way I took out the Greatball tossed it idly as finally stepped out into the harsh light of the Hoenn Desert. The wind whipped at my face as I wrapped a scarf around my face and nose, I pulled down my goggles staring into the great expansive wasteland.
'I really hate sand.' I mused to myself as I trudged slowly down the sloping dunes towards the closest oasis, to anyone watching I probably seemed like a lost member of one of the great desert clans, or maybe an intrepid explorer. I highly doubt anyone would believe that a fifteen year old had made it ten miles into the desert all alone.
The trek through the great basin of the Hoenn desert is fraught with perils. The most annoying perils being the absurd amount of Trapinch that lurk in small cone-shaped depressions in the sand. The pokemon allow loose sand to gather on the sides, one false step and you're sliding into the waiting jaws of one desert predator. Their evolved brethren, Vibrava flit through the treacherous wind at impossible speeds in their hunt for their favorite prey, Cacnea.
Humans don't factor in well within the food chain of the Great Desert, to call us alpha predators would be stupid. Even a veteran of the desert may be swept away by the screeching nightmare that is a wild Flygon. Of course, there hasn't been one of those in years. Captain Drake of the Hoenn Elite Four takes care of that. Nearly every high level Vibrava in this region is marked by some sort of tracker. The moment it evolves, the terror of the Great war is there, atop his massive Salamence, ready to swoop it up for capture. Watson had said they're bred to be slaughtered by Drake's great dragon, or its offspring, the thought of that great dragon soaring over him made me wanna throw up in fear.
Drake had visited port of Slateport a couple years ago, that great blue dragon had been the size of a small house and was still the largest pokemon I'd ever seen. I felt a cool shiver go up my spine, Watson had said true dragons like the Bagon and Dragonite line were bred for war and slaughter.
"No use in this peaceful time for dragon trainers. Those who raise them are bad omens." Watson had said, standing beside him in the crowd those few years ago. Thinking back on it now, the aged veteran atop the beast almost seemed to be staring back at him.
Back in the present, I cursed as I crested the hill towards the nearest oasis and dropped, letting the brown tones of my jacket blend into the desert surface and willing myself to become one with the sand as a blast of blue flames soared over the spot my head had just been occupying. I barely registered the green shape at the front of the blue blast as it soared like a comet into the dune behind me. I cursed and turned rushing towards the crater. I bit back any sound as the charred husk of a young Cacnea laid still in the center. The front part of it's body was a crisp, burnt black and the stumps that would've been it's arms twitched once before stilling completely.
I should've ran I knew that. The blue flames only ever came from dragons, and with just some climbing equipment and a knocked out Baydol I wasn't fit for any fight, but my feet carried me back up that dune towards the sound of action. Like a mad scene from the Hoenn Grand Tournament, the valley between the waving dunes of the great basin had been turned into a battleground. Smoking piles of plant flesh littered the area, an entire 'gang' of the little green cacti were now piles of barbeque as wisps of blue flame licked the sky. At the center the largest Vibrava I'd ever laid my eyes on, its wings longer than my torso and it's large green eyes the size of melons. Those big green eyes had only one target and that was a nasty looking Cacturne, facing the massive bug with one arm burned off.
Defiant to the end those bastards. Cacturne always roam with a 'gang' as the mountaineers call'em. Whatever set this bug off the Cacturne was gonna die over. The sand kicked up in a frenzy as the bug dragon's wings vibrated the air. In a blast of sand it shot after the humanlike cacti. Immobilized, by the dragonbreath's paralyzing property most likely, the Cacturne raised its hands to guard. The bug crashed full force folding the Cacturne in half before it's maw found the green bark of its neck. With a crack the Cacturne's head rolled, as the bug tore open its chest gnawing at the inside, chlorophyll blood soaked its pincer jaws.
I was frozen, watching the bug slay what had to be a high level cacturne, based on it's size, so easily was deeply disturbing, unmarked and unharmed the bug finished its meal. With a start the Vibrava shivered once, before the exoskeleton cracked, a small flake falling off. I needed know more motivation than that as I turned to run, the glowing light of evolution casting darker shadows across the dune as I sprinted West, hoping with sheer luck I could reach a tribal village in time.
The first wingbeat was a soft thud in the back of my head that locked my jaw before my teeth began to chatter. The second more profound as the beast gained altitude. I need not look back to see the newly birthed dragon flight, I had always been able to feel the intent of Pokemon and men alike. "An aptitude for empathy, young trainer." That's what old man Horace had called it, the owner of the day-care center had said it first laying eyes on me. I could feel emotions, surface emotions at a distance, touching people meant uncomfortable thoughts and feelings. I doubt I'd need this particular gift to feel the bloodlust leaking out of that dragon. Even the desert seemed to feel it as the sand shifted on the dunes, swirling in angry tornadoes like the vengeful spirits of legend.
Cresting the last visible dune, I was almost elated to see the soft red lights of a tribal camp. I say was because my next step found no ground beneath me and as I looked down the dune disappeared down a sharp decline as gravity took its toll and I was sent rolling somewhat comically down the near forty foot drop. The sky was replaced by sand which was replaced by sky which turned to sand as I tumbled down in what felt like an endless torture.
Finally, just before I lost my lunch all over myself, I came to a merciful stop at the bottom. My near endless string of loud, angry profanities against any deity or legend I could think of had apparently drawn the tribesmen from their tents. Children held back by mothers or older siblings stared at me in wonder. One even had the nerve to shout "Hamoora". It's tribe for 'sand devil' alright, or maybe he said kamoora which means 'bringer of the end'. I couldn't be sure with all the sand in my ears.
Older men were first to approach me, beneath the desert robes the barrels of assault weapons or sidearms were clear as day. As was the fear that permeated from them. I stood slowly eyes roaming the crowd. Amongst the men stood one really, really old lady. Her cloudy green eyes sunken into her face, the wrinkles of her forehead seemed to place her in a permanent frown. The walking staff in her darkened hands and regal posture though marked her as my one friend.
Smiling at the woman, I definitely saw a couple women blush at my devilish good looks, I clasped my hands and bowed form the waist, eyes down. "I only ask for guest rights, for my journey as a friend of tribe Black." I rasped out, my throat dry from the running, my handle of desert speak wasn't great, but I knew enough. The old woman nodded her head before turning to walk away. With that motion the crowd dispersed and I cast one hesitant look at the horizon, searching for the dark outline of a Flygon. Turning towards the largest tent, I heard the far off screech of the dragon. Deep down I knew we'd meet again, but I was hoping it wasn't so soon. With one long sigh, I pulled myself up to my full height before venturing towards the leader of tribe Red's tent.
"I wonder if they'll try to marry me off again, tribe yellow wasn't very shrewd, or forgiving about that one." The wild Sandshrew that stared at me from its hidey hole near one of the tents seemed to understand and responded with a shrug. I waved at the desert rat, which sent it skittering underground and earned me questioning looks from passing tribesmen.