Chapter 3: Of Apples and Worms

The large oak had a huge pile of food at its base- mostly stuff that couldn't be squashed, like apples and the harder berries. I could also see a hollow that led underground. Many Pokémon were sitting around, eating peacefully.

I went over to the pile and picked out an apple. It wasn't as delicious-looking as my old one, but it would do. Wiping off some dirt, I took a bite, while String settled in beside me with an Oran Berry. I watched the forest before me, feeling more at peace than I had the whole day. I'd woken up to fight an old enemy, and then got dragged into this mess. But as I sat there, watching the Pokémon enjoy themselves, I didn't regret it.

"This is nice," String sighed next to me. I jerked slightly, having forgotten his presence. "I wish that it could be like this all the time. So peaceful. With no one bothering us... Just us Pokémon, living in peace."

"Well, we're not exactly peaceful," I pointed out. "Some are preparing to fight." I nodded at the leaders, who were still planning. Sheesh, didn't they ever do anything else?

"...Yeah, they always do that," confirmed the Wurmple. "Still...none of our fights have gone horribly wrong. Sure, we've lost a few, but they haven't had any great victories either." He sighed. "It's pretty much a stalemate. The ghosts could turn the fight, but they're staying neutral. We've never really interacted with them, but they don't like dark types either. Mainly, they stick to themselves, and we stick to ourselves." His eyes darkened. "It worked, until that Honchkrow came with his posse. And most of the birds joined him as well. Did you notice that there aren't very many here?" he nodded at the group.

I had noticed it. KESFO (Keep Eterna Safe From Outsiders) consisted mostly of Bidoof, Wurmple, Buneary, Budew, and Kricketot. There were a few scattered Starly and other various Pokémon, but they were a minority. Then there was A'Tuin, but he blended in so well with the forest that sometimes it was hard to spot him.

"Most of the other Pokémon in Eterna Forest went to Caractacus' side or remained neutral. However, with ambition like his, they're sure to suffer as well." The Wurmple looked concerned, his normally soft demeanor worried. I grabbed another apple and munched on it, watching the sky. It was starting to darken. Clouds with bright orange underbellies floated in place, while streaks of red splashed across a lavender sky. Large black and fuzzy figures swayed at the edge of sight; the trees, now whispering silhouettes. This peaceful ambience was marred by a harsh croaking and the flapping of wings.

"Murkrow," I whispered, which made my companion tense. He looked up as well, and I glanced down in disbelief to see the remains of several leaves and berries at his feet. When did he have the time to eat all that? The worm ignored my shock as he raced across to the nearest leader and jerked his head up to the sky comically, all the while exclaiming in excited tones.

The Pokémon, a Kricketune, hurried away to whisper urgently in A'Tuin's ear. "A'Tuin, the Murkrow are heading for the Old Chateau!"

The giant tortoise lifted his head, the light of battle appearing in his eyes. Everybody in the group turned around as if guided by an invisible signal (yeah, weird, I know), eagerly awaiting his words. A low rumbling came up from the old one's throat, until he finally spoke: "We move. To the Old Chateau!"

Instead of cheering, which was almost what I expected (that tortoise had a celebrity status here) the Pokémon milled around in an unorganized mob. I watched as they headed for specific leaders however, and, seeing as the tortoise had been too busy to assign me to a leader, or just didn't care, I tagged along with String to where his leader was. It was that Kricketune from before.

"Hello," the Pokémon said, dark eyes emotionless. "It seems that we have a newcomer. Your first battle," he said it so unenthusiastically that I felt eager to prove him wrong.

"No, I've battled before, just not in groups as large as these," I said.

"Most of us have, whether it's to fend off a trainer or protecting one's territory," the bug replied shortly. Before I could tell him that I had a bit more experience than that, he continued, "In any case, stay out of the way of the main fighting; keep yourself alive. We need all the fighters we can get." The bug turned away, and walked in the same direction the other groups were going. We followed.

"Sorry," said String as we marched. "I forgot to tell you that Krick is rather exclusive. If you haven't been through actual battle, you're not worth his time."

And it seems like he's something else that rhymes with Krick... I thought, but followed the Wurmple. Looking back, I saw a few Pokémon remained, and were quickly cleaning up the mess we had made. They gazed back at us, some wistfully, some with fear and concern. Most were nurses, with babies to look after.

I wanted to turn away, so I did. They made me uncomfortable.

While I had been looking back, my group had moved forward. Following them, I noticed String had waited for me. As something occurred to me, I asked, "So, what are you going to be doing?"

"Me?" he looked confused. His heartbeat sped up, and his breathing quickened.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he replied too quickly, and his heart hadn't settled down.

Oh. Duh. He was scared. Of course he was. He was just a Wurmple, one of the weakest Pokémon in the Sinnoh region, and he probably knew it. If he were smart, he'd just get out of the way and try to stay alive.

"Hey," I said softly. "Do you want to cover me? No matter what that Kricketune said, I do have experience in Pokémon battling, so I'll be in the front lines. But I'll need a fighting partner."

The Wurmple thought about it for a second, and then nodded. "Okay. And thank you."

At least he would have more of a chance at staying alive, since the others didn't seem to really care about him, seeing as worms were generally expendable to most. I nodded at him, and then increased my marching speed to catch up with the rest of the group.

Since humans probably have a skewed perception of marching, let me say that when Pokémon do it, it's not the same thing. In fact, what humans call marching we call stomping about loudly and stupidly, attracting the attention of every predator and trainer around for miles. Not to mention that all those feet keeping in beat like that set off enormous shockwaves that destabilize the ground.

However, what Pokémon call marching is a quick pace that not only covers quite a fair amount of distance, but also does so as quietly as possible. While we were a large crowd, the groups had split up somewhat. And all the Pokémon in each group shared certain ways of moving. The Dustox and Beautifly fluttered through and around the treetops, scouting ahead while also staying hidden in case the Murkrow saw them. The tree-climbers leapt through the branches, and the ground patrol (which included me) trekked overland.

It helped a lot to lessen sound, and each group was just far enough from the others that it wasn't too eye-catching, but just close enough that they could draw together if need be.

The few Pokémon we did meet were neutral, and got out of our way, fear in their eyes. I couldn't blame them. But they would probably be dragged into this conflict like I had soon enough.

We reached the Old Chateau fifteen minutes later. Night had started to fall, and something occurred to me. Why is it that the dark Pokémon waited till now to attack? This is when the ghosts are at their strongest... I didn't have an answer for this, so I decided to ask String later.

The groups settled down to rest, and my keen ears heard the leaders quietly discuss certain Pokémon to go ahead and scout the lay of the land. I could've volunteered with my hearing, but I still felt slightly bitter toward KESFO for the group's cold attitude toward me and kept silent. Besides, they probably wouldn't trust me. If they were smart, they'd keep an eye on me, being a newcomer.

I whispered my earlier question to String, and he answered: "Because this is also when dark-type power is at its peak as well. I heard the leaders talking about it. They also said that the ghosts tend to hide away during the daytime, so Caractacus will catch them when they're confident and unprepared. And also visible."

That...made a lot of sense. I should've figured that out. Feeling slightly stupid, I settled down for a short nap...

Which turned into a long wait. Impatient, I listened for sounds. It was strangely quiet, the only noise being a faint flapping, as if wings were beating the air...

Shooting up, I looked around, and saw scouts returning and signaling to the leaders. A'Tuin was there as well, and he nodded gravely.

"The ghosts were thankful for our warning," muttered one leader. "But they said that they could handle it themselves."

"The fools! Don't they realize what they're up against?"

"They know perfectly well, but they are ghosts. Out of all the types, they've always been the most disconnected from the rest," replied the first.

"But—"

"We wait," interrupted A'Tuin, his deep voice commanding silence. Itching to move, I heard the first faint sounds of battle.

"Why aren't we fighting?" I muttered to myself. Glaring at the ground, I waited while the tortoise stood there, near the front. He blended in so well with the forest that it was hard to spot him.

After a while, my spine prickled. Something was wrong. Perking up my ears, I heard movement behind me. Turning around, my activity caught my companion's attention.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It may be nothing," I said, "But then again, it may not be!" I shouted, whipping out a paw that caught a charging Murkrow in the face.

"Ambush!" I yelped. "Turn around! They're behind us!"


Well, it's me again! And here I am with another chapter of Fatal Cures. I really like this story and I hope you do too! Reviews are welcome, as are apples!

Thank you Phoenix Vanguard for reviewing! :)