-Competition-

Once upon a time, the knights of old would race amongst each other to show to the land and their kings the prowess of their companions. Old stories speak of Charizards crusading in the skies, overtaking Flygons and Dragonites that dared pass by and beat them to the finish line; others spoke that upon land, the Fire Pokémon, Ponyta and Rapidash raced upon the fields, evading the obstacles placed before them by nature in an effort to not yield towards the flying lizards in the skies.

Yes, the stories spoke of knights and their partners, whether there was rain or hail or wind, they would race. Each mounted upon their trusted Pokémon, daring others to outrun them to the finish line. But, there speaks an old tale of a knight, who rode upon, not a dashing beast of fire or a creature made to fly, no, he rode a rock; a creature made of shards of stone, gray complexion and formidable will. Rhyhorn, the knight called his partner, a stranger in the land of Kalos, who carried his master to victory against those who had once ridiculed him.

Upon the defeat of his rivals and their Pokémon, the king came forth towards the knight and asked, "What makes such a beast as yours, faster than wind, lad? A Dragon's speed outruns a spear, and the Creatures of Fire and Leaves compete against these two legs of mine…so tell me lad, what drives you?"

"Trust," was the reply. "Rhyhorn and I, we do not care about the risks; we go forward and race, not to win, but merely compete. Winning is the goal of those who do not enjoy competition, but only rewards. Sky or land, what is the point of winning if there is no fair ground, whether we lost or won it matters not to me; we have proven our worth, and that is victory enough for us." His companion, the Rhyhorn, growled in agreement.

"I see," the old king said, and turning his head to the other knights—those that had lost against the mighty beast made of stone—and cried, "Listen well! From this day forth, all competition will be made fair. No longer shall you ride you ride among the skies, nor drift among the sea or torch the plains…no, you will all compete on fair ground. You will all be in the same level as your adversary, upon a Rhyhorn you all shall race to show your worth and trust to your King and the Kingdom!"

The tradition of racing upon a Rhyhorn became a popular sport soon after this declaration, and soon, the stories say, it spread across the world. But like old stories tend to do as time passes, they disappear and so, nothing remains in the history books of a brave knight who managed to win it all accompanied by his brave Rhyhorn…

Practice, practice that was all it was every single day.

Serena Ganabe was beginning to regret ever telling her mother, Grace Ganabe, as a child that she wanted to be like her; a Rhyhorn racer. The young girl reasoned that back then, as a mere child of four years, she had being stupid.

Serena admired her mother, she truly did. Grace was a wonderful woman, and well, Serena; she was just an awful Rhyhorn racer. Her mother, on the other hand, was the gallant knight of the story, leaving her opponents in the dust, while the family Rhyhorn and Serena's training partner, Aristotle, left her in the dust.

Grace would say that being in sync with your partner was the key to success in a competition, as the races tended to get rough from time to time. Serena barely recalled that time where, still a child, she watched her mother and Aristotle being hit by the other competitors; Grace had won that race, but she had a broken leg and a bruised hip while Aristotle carried with him nasty scratches. The young child had not understood the reasoning behind her mother's pain—she had won right, so, why was she crying with a smile on her face and a golden trophy on her hands?

It was only just years after, when she began to train to become a Rhyhorn Racer that Serena finally understood why Aristotle would try to throw her off during those early training days.

"Endurance is built with pain, unfortunately," Grace had said, looking guilty at the tears of her child all those years back, while the Rhyhorn looked down in shame of not giving its master's daughter a fair warning. "The connection a racer feels with their Rhyhorn is built upon endurance. If the Rhyhorn knows its rider will remain on its back at all times, it will give it their all. Me and Ari here, we were the same. Falling, holding on…the Rhyhorn must know you can keep up with it or else it will let you fall."

Endurance was lesson number one, holding for dear life as the Rhyhorn ran was lesson number two—one which Serena found herself failing miserably every single day.

"Remember, focus! You have to be one with your partner or else you'll—"

Serena yelped as she was thrown off Aristotle's back and landed, face first, into the ground below. Her mother, watching from the sidelines, sighed. At least she had managed the twenty minutes…barely.

"Ow…" the girl whispered, facing the dirt, as her mother jumped over the small wooden fence that surrounded the training area and walked over to her daughter. Serena raised her head up, scratched and dirty, to look at her mother, who was kneeling by her side as the Rhyhorn walked over to its master and her child. "I think gravity hates me…" Grace chuckled as she helped her daughter up.

"Not as much as she hates you for not holding on to Ari's reins, kiddo," she told her, eyeing her up and down to see if she had hurt herself in other places. "But you did good…for twenty minutes." Serena sighed. "Hey, don't put that face, now, twenty minutes is better than nothing."

"Yeah…but races don't last twenty minutes," the girl said, unconvinced by her achievement. Days before, she had barely managed ten or fifteen minutes. By some miracle, she had managed the twenty minutes; she guessed her mom and Aristotle were to blame for this development, not that she was complaining really. Falling down at least once would mean a break…then another hour of trying to hold on to Aristotle's reins and pray to Arceus that she wouldn't fall off again. Grace would call it quits after five or six falls, leaving Serena to lick her wounds in peace while congratulating her on some private achievement only her mother could see.

"True, but the fact that you managed twenty is something," the woman said, patting her daughter's head gently. "Why don't we call it quits for today and continue next week?" Serena looked up.

"Huh?" Next week? But it was Wednesday! Her mother would always make her train five days a week, why the sudden change?

"I was invited to participate in a special race being held up in Santalune City," Grace answered. "Jake, my old manager—you remember him, don't you?—called me and asked me to participate in the race."

"But…aren't you retired?"

"Yep! But that doesn't mean I can't enjoy a race or two!" Grace said, winking. "Besides, you could use the break."

"I don't mind the practice, Mama." And that was a lie, but Serena would rather bite her tongue then tell off her mother.

"Of course you don't, honey," her mother said back, her tone of voice indicating she didn't believe her. "I know you don't like this part of the training but I know you'll manage in no time. You managed twenty minutes, today! Who knows how well you'll do next week?"

With any luck…twenty-one minutes, Serena thought bitterly, as she smiled at her mother. She knows I suck, and she's trying to make me feel better by saying otherwise…

"I'll try to do better, Mama." Grace only smiled.

"You do better every day, Serena. Remember, the connection one feels with their Rhyhorn is the key. As long as you feel that connection you can reach for anything."

Serena waved good-bye at her mother and Aristotle as they left for Santalune City.

"Call me by Holocaster if you need anything!"

"I will!"

"I left money in the living room table and there should be some leftover food from yesterday's meal, too!"

"Okay, Mama. Be careful!"

"You too, kid! I'll see you on Sunday!"

The girl continued waving until her mother and her Pokémon were gone from sight, away from the small home in the corner of Vaniville Town and the practice fence that surrounded it. Serena put both hands on her hips and just stood there, and after making sure no one was looking, put two fingers in her mouth and whistled a tune. She waited again, and watched from the trees as a small panda-like Pokémon approached her, a leaf upon its lips.

"Hey, there, Pancham," the girl said, petting the small Pokémon on the head. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long…so, I have the whole weekend to myself. We can play all day, too!" Serena smiled, as the Pancham raised one of its hands to pump its fist up, smiling. "But I guess we have to go and see my 'other' teacher, huh?"

"Pancham!" the Pokémon replied eagerly.

"So, Pancham…tell me…how was it that we got into this mess again?" Serena asked her friend with a small smile, as she looked back at the road leading out of Vaniville Town. "Wait here, I need to get a few things from home; I'm sure Mr. Greene can wait a few minutes, too. Oh, and I can't wait to show you the new Poké Puffs I made for you and Achilles! Aristotle loved them, and I'm sure you will like them, too!" And with that, Serena quickly made her way back to her home, the panda Pokémon waiting patiently for her, looking left and right to make sure it wasn't seen.

Minutes later, Serena reappeared, carrying with her a small basket, its top held closed by a small red ribbon. She carried a small red backpack and had her long, honey colored hair tied in a ponytail. "Come on, then, Pancham, if we run now, we'll make it in time…not that that is going to save us from Mr. Greene's yelling, but I'm pretty sure his Chesnaught will forgive us, eh?" And both ran, girl and Pokemon side by side, running straight to the forest that surrounded Vaniville Town.