CH II

Past Johto

The city of Ecruteak was a busy place in its day. At night, the pokemon would sleep inside due to the lack of space outside. Although the pokeball technology was available, it was still new and was frowned upon by most. Back then a pokemon stayed with a human only as long as they shared a bond. To put one in a pokeball would mean to own the pokemon, putting them on the level of a subordinate and not as the allies that the deserved to be.

Despite the the city being well populated for the time, the streets were often empty at night due to the equally high population of ghost pokemon. The people of the city called Ecruteak had long been haunted by the specters and had learned not to leave the house after dusk. Although the locals knew to avoid the ghosts, countless travelers had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The rumors spread by the unfortunate victims had insured that merchants and other travelers chose to go through wilderness to avoid the haunted city. Because few people ever came into town, news from other parts of the region seldom reached Ecruteak.

One such traveler had heard the tales of this supernatural catalyst all the way in a small village called Mossdeep. He had made the journey overseas on a small boat pulled by the captain's Gyarados. He had traveled two weeks to get to the city and had finally arrived. The hood on his black cloak hid his deep blue eyes. Even though the cloak was used to maintain a low profile, the giant broadsword on his back did nothing to help in in that area. People saw him from the windows and feared for his safety. He was walking alone.

He stopped in the town square, in front of the new Kimono Theater. He stood silently staring at the steps for what seemed like half an hour. Waiting. Watching. Expecting.

A noise arose from behind. The traveler felt the ominous presence, the dense air flooding the square, the pressure imposed by the apparition behind him. He turned slowly, savoring the sight as he raised his head and pulled off his hood to reveal his young, defined face. He knew better than to draw his sword.

The wild Gengar had a truly wicked smile. It had been a long time since its last victim left. The tormentors feet were barely off the ground. As the traveler layed eyes on the pokemon, he felt as if he was staring directly into the very jaws of oblivion.

The ominous air around the pokemon swirled to create a gaseous nail that was then driven in the Gengar, causing a massive amount of its dark colored blood to pour from the wound. With a flick of its ghostly hand, the cursed blood flew in a direct path towards the traveler. He evaded as best he could, but the blood was too fast. Although the bulk of the blood missed him, a good portion of the cursed blood drenched the travelers hand.

He stared at his right hand in horror as the curse began to take its toll. The entire hand had already decayed to the bone, making it entirely useless. If the Gengar's presence wasn't eliminated soon, the curse would begin to spread and the damage would be irreversible. He could no longer take the time to savor his first encounter with a ghost pokemon. It was time to end the fight and fast.

The now cursed traveler raised his decayed hand. From the shadows of the theater appeared the travelers guardian and ally. The pokemon raised its head and let out a thunderous roar, "Absol!!!"

the Gengar turned silently to see his new opponent. It didn't know what to think of the Absol, having never seen a pokemon like it.

The Gengar closed its eyes for a short moment as it transformed the air around it into deadly shadow ball. The ball of energy flew the Gengar's grasp towards its foe. Absol leaped into the air, the glow from the the moon casting a brilliant shadow of the magnificent pokemon as it returned returned to the earth below. The Absol wasted no time in making his move, instantly dashing toward the ghostly antagonist.

The ghost, though caught slightly off guard, was far from stunned at the audacity of Absol to get close for an attack. Absol lunged forward to try to bite the target, but was easily dodged. Large shadow claws grew on the the specter as he stepped forward for his counter attack. As it brought down its dark weapon upon the the Absol, the traveler rushed in and blocked the attack. The weight of the massive broadsword in his left hand was too much and the attack sent him falling backwards. As Gengar was focusing on the trainer, Absol saw the opportunity to finish the battle.

Right as the trainer stood up, he doubled over in pain, landing him back on the ground. He felt the decay spreading, the burning of his flesh as the first three inches of his wrist turned to bone before his eyes. He was running out of time. He had grossly underestimated the power that the pokemon would have. The Gengar had turned its attention to the trainer and prepared to finish the first of the evening's victims.

Absol noticed the vulnerability of the foe instantly. He moved swiftly and silently as he closed in on the target, preparing to end the suffering of the human who had protected him. The Gengar heard him coming and whirled around to attempt a block, but the Absol had already thrown himself into ghost, sinking his fangs into the ghostly battler.

Gengar stood entirely still. There was nothing left for it to do. It had lost. It felt to the Gengar as if an eternity had gone by before it finally fell forward and turned to a puff of dark smoke as it hit the ground.

The trainer breathed a sigh of relief as the searing pain was finally assuaged. The Absol went immediately to his ally as people rushed from their homes to see the stranger. It was not often that anyone, let alone a stranger, fought a ghost and lived to talk about it.

"Stand back! Give him some room!" barked an old man as he shouldered his way through the crowd. "Can you stand up? Oh, of course you can't, what am I thinking? You, you, pick him up," he barked once more, pointing to two strong young men at the front of the crowd. "We must take him to my wife's shop, she should have a way to reverse the curse Gengar placed on him. She's already there working on it as we speak, hurry up! We mustn't keep her waiting." In most cases, the Absol would attack any unknown human getting near his trainer, but without them the Absol knew his trainer would never regain the use of his hand. So he allowed it. The Absol was content only following the trio as they took him to the Apothecary Shop.

"Is this the boy? Here, pour this on his hand." the man's wife said in her frail and elderly voice. The men layed him on the mat and began to rub the concoction on the stranger's hand and wrist. The women knelt down beside the mat and lightly slapped the stranger to draw him back into the conscious world. "I could only imagine what you thought you were doing. Do you even know the first thing about fighting ghost pokemon? Where are you from? Why are you here?"

"That can wait. The boy is tired. Let him rest and he can answer your questions in the morning," the old husband advised. He glanced over at the Absol. He himself had a multitude of questions for the visitor, but knew he must take his own advice if he wanted the information he sought.

"Then just answer me this. What do I call you?" Asked the seemingly frail medicine woman. The visitor raised his head slightly and answered in quiet, almost inaudible voice.

"My name is Ovan. And this," gesturing to the Absol, "is Memory."