Boulder Arc: 8

Arena Day's fireworks show was the biggest attraction in the entire Boulder Pokemon Festival. Flames and sparks blossomed in ways that other festivals had yet to achieve. The show dazzled the eye and soothed the soul to make every visitor sigh in exasperation, awe, or content. It was the climax of the festival and yet Liam Valenis could not bring his gaze to the lights popping above. The sole patron of a rooftop bar in the heart of Boulder, Liam aimed his gaze at the ground as multicolored light flashed over him. It wasn't the view that hindered the show. In fact, it was one of the best spots in town, quiet and isolated from the crowd chatter and noisy children. Perfectly manicured shrubby accented with metal twined glass tables and chairs put on the show without a single distraction. Thoughts weighted Liam's gaze. They burst in his eyes almost as brilliantly as the fireworks and were so distracting that the glass of wine, gently rolling in his hand, could hardly achieve the same buzz. Azura and Aria's pokemon battle earlier that day was all he could think about: two trainers from opposite sides of the world, pitted against one another in a clash of the soul. Liam couldn't help but wonder: if Aria knew who she was battling against, would she have been so eager to challenge him?

The fact that she didn't and still faced the challenge gave him the answer. Many trainers battled with Azura, trying to outdo him, show off, or prove themselves worthy of being a Greyblade. Aria wasn't the type. How many trainers had she blindly challenged in her lifetime and won? More than she lost, he figured. Spontaneity tickled her bones but she did not leave anything to chance. Her will and experience pushed her to succeed no matter the odds. Liam smiled as he rubbed his chin. Just thinking about the battle again gave him goose bumps.

Recon! Was what she had said.

It was not an attack command but a strategy. It was an order to have her growlithe go on the defensive and use simple tooth and claw to test and tease his opponent, assessing speed, agility, strength, attack style, and temperament. It was a way of gauging ones opponent in order to develop the perfect strategy to counter and win. For all of that to be put into a single word, Aria must have spent an enormous amount of time training with her pokemon. She had taught them how to hold back, let their opponent do all the work and reveal everything they needed to know in order to win. Endurance was her specialty. Anticipating for the worst, assuming a battle could pop out at any time was the way she lived. What was she preparing for, the poke-apocalypse? Being careful was the difference between success and failure, or depending on the circumstances, life or death. She had to save every ounce of strength, health, and energy because only God knew when she would need it. Whatever sort of life she lived to require such a strategy was surely more interesting than the rural backwoods led one to believe. Aria was no rookie. Her strategy was perfected through a life of constant battling. The match today proved that. Liam carefully placed his lips to the glass with a slow diagnostic sip.

He finally turned his gaze to the sky and watched the budding, blooming, and withering of a fire flower. The bright yellow, orange, and red flashes mimicked the colors of the first flamethrower Aria had ordered in the battle. It was rare to see something so beautiful, disastrous, and powerful all at the same time. He never even realized until now that the growlithe's starting nips and small bursts of flame were warm-ups to increase the strength of the first real attack for critical strength. It was rare, unusual . . . brilliant. The connection between trainer and pokemon was so clear that Aria hardly shouted any commands during the battle, and when she did, they were short and brisk. Letting pokemon think and fight on their own was risky, except for the seasoned professional. Done right, it allowed the pokemon, and in this case, the growlithe, to focus and concentrate without distraction. Hesitation and the persistent lag between attacks were minimized. Aria's growlithe was free to maneuver through the flow of battle without disturbing it in the slightest. He attacked when there was an opening and defended when appropriate. Commands only came into play when Aria saw something that he did not. These split second connections and responses tipped the battle in their favor.

That sort of thing required complete trust between pokemon and trainer. Aria was a mobile fighter, running around the battlefield with no regard to the judgment of her peers. She watched and calculated with an eagle's eye as if she was fighting the battle herself. The fluidity and grace between Aria and her growlithe counteracted one another's weakness for full efficiency. It would have taken years upon years of battling to reach such symbiosis. It took decades for veteran trainers to fight as one body, mind, and spirit. Aria was barely in adulthood. What else but unwavering loyalty and trust could have allowed a growlithe to purposefully fight so close to water? The puppy had an inherent fear of water because of his type and yet he easily shrugged it off like a piece of pine straw. Somehow, Aria taught him how to control it, a feat considered impossible by most trainers. It was something only seen in gym leaders, elite, and other high level trainers. Aria's style was so influential that it had even pulled out Zangoose's fighting spirit to perform an attack before his trainer's instruction.

Why then, had Liam never heard of her in the trainer's circuit? There was not one lick of gossip about her. She was as intelligent as she was strong. Liam's memory played the battle again like an old film reel in front of documentary researches and scholars.

Flame fang was what she had said when Growlithe snapped on Zangoose's arm and finished the fight.

Liam chuckled. Flame fang was not a single attack but two performed simultaneously: a combination of fire fang and flamethrower. Aria was not limited by the restrictions of her pokemon. Her arsenal of attacks was probably quadrupled that of a regular trainer. He had no doubt that she had the power to combine those attacks with her growlithe's intimidate ability. The style was unusual even for someone like Liam Valenis, kingpin of the trainer world. The way she moved and connected with her pokemon, it wasn't like a trainer. It was like that of a- Liam slowly lowered his glass with eyes blazing in intrigue and curiosity. The way she battled . . .

It was like that of a Ranger.

Liam placed his glass on the table as the hot green and blue light of the fireworks washed over him again. One of Liam's attendants came over as if reading a silent signal.

"Sir?" the orderly whispered.

"I want you to get me everything you can on Aria Wicket," Liam said.

The orderly paused for only a second before bowing lightly and turning away. Anticipation sprinkled down Liam's spine. He looked up into the display exploding and popping across the night sky.

A pokemon Ranger was here, in this isolated mountain town.

Coming to Boulder was a better investment than Liam ever imagined.