Author's Note: Sorry for the wait,I've...been sort of lazy these past few months or so on updating on here. As such, I now have a backlog of three chapters to update with here. Rest assured though, TFC is not dead. I might have slowed down some (actually, my writing speed seems to vary a lot...), but TFC is very much alive. Again, sorry for the wait; I hope you enjoy these three chapters.

Chapter 21

Aira; the Past, Year 2039

"Sleep, child. Rest your body now, so that in the morning you will be rested and I can teach you about Pokémon battling, as you've been wanting."

I gasped as I rolled over on my bed, underneath the pink sheets printed with pictures of a variety of cute Pokémon. "Really? Really, Mama? You're going to teach me about Pokémon battles?"

"Yes, I will." Mom smiled as she gently stroked my hair and bent down, kissing me on the cheek. "While there's still years to go before you can set out on your own Pokémon journey, it is always a wise idea to start preparing and training as early as possible."

I pulled my arms out from under my sheets and grabbed Mom's hand. "Thank you. And will you promise me one thing?"

"What is that, dear?"

"I want Papa to be there as well."

Mom laughed lightly. "Of course, dear. He would not miss out on the day his daughter started on the path to being a trainer, even if it cost him his life."

Something inside me stirred at those words, but I ignored it as I closed my eyes, a smile forming on my lips. "I can use a cute Pokémon, right? I don't like ugly Pokémon."

Mom bent down and kissed my cheeks again before standing up. "I'll go out and catch whatever you want to use myself, if need be."

"Then go and catch me a Mew." I smiled as I opened my eyes again and turned my head to look at Mom, who was laughing.

"I would if I could, dear. I think you'll have to settle for something a little more common for now, though. But for the moment, just go to sleep."

"Yes, Mama. Thank you..."

"You're welcome, my dear child, Aira..."

Present Day, Year 2046

"...That was the night it happened, right? The day your parents were killed." Shrike asked turning to look at me.

"Yes, it was."

"This must be hard for you..."

I shook my head. "It's never been easy these past six or so years."

"Is there nothing important that happened before that? Jumping straight to this..."

"Not much. I had friends who I played with and I went to school, just like any other kid. I would always watch my parents battle together and dream of one day finding a man I loved and battling together with him just like my parents. But, obviously, that was not to be."

"Don't say that. You're only fourteen, just like me. We both have much of our lives ahead of us still."

"Yeah, I guess you're right... I should continue on now."

The Past, Year 2039

A bright flash of lightning and accompanying crack of thunder stirred me from my sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I shivered at the cold night air that permeated the house and pulled my sheets up further, turning away from the window. I wasn't scared of thunderstorms, perhaps because of my parent's tendency to use electric Pokémon, but that didn't mean I liked them, or was unaffected by them.

Just as I was starting to drift back to sleep again, another sound drew my attention. I heard the sound of glass breaking in the hallway, and through my door—which was open a crack—I saw a black silhouette pass by.

Curiosity overcame me and I slid out of my bed, quietly walking over to the door and peering out into the dark hallway. To the left from my room was the end of the hallway, with a recently broken glass window situated in its center. Glass shards lay scattered underneath the window, on the rug that ran the length of the hallway. Slipping out of the room I avoided the glass and walked down the hallway to my right. Just as I came out of my room I saw the dark shadow-like form I had seen before turn around the corner at the end of the hallway. Hurriedly I ran after it, my young age making me curious and oblivious to danger instead of afraid of the mysterious being that had broken through our window and was now loose in our house.

I got to the corner just in time to see the thing disappear into the room at the end of the hallway; my parents' room. The door was pulled closed behind it, but it didn't latch properly and bounced back open a little, leaving enough of an opening for me to be able to look through and see the inside of my parents' room clearly.

Mom and Dad lay asleep together on their bed, their arms wrapped around each other. The thing I had been following walked slowly to the center of the room, facing the bed. I was now able to see that it appeared to be a human wearing a black cloak, with a hood hiding their face.

"You, Tainted. Wake now and face me." The voice was loud and booming, and I knew that if I hadn't already woken I would have at that voice, even down the hall and in my room. I couldn't help but notice that the voice seemed artificial, as if the person's true voice was being somehow modified to make them seem more intimidating, or to hide their identity.

As if obeying the person's order my parents' woke up, startled. They turned and looked at the person, when suddenly Dad leapt out of bed and angrily walked towards the person.

"Get out of my house, now! What gives you the right to break in here in the middle of the night and order us around?!" Dad angrily said, waving his fist.

"I am an elite assassin of the High Order. I have been sent under oath to fulfill my chosen duties, and to this end I have been given full authority." The person suddenly reached into their cloak with both hands and pulled out a golden dagger in one hand and a pistol in the other, lowering them to either side of him as he stood facing my parents, standing sideways so as to present a narrow profile to my parents. "Now, send out your Abominations; Pokémon, I believe you call them."

The weapons stopped Dad in his tracks, and he looked nervously between the assassin and Mom. What is an assassin? I wondered meanwhile, having not had much experience with anything that could be considered evil at that point in my life.

"Do as he says, dear. Maybe we won't be hurt."

"An assassin... Huh, this so-called assassin isn't really that intimidating. Hell, see how short he is?" Dad was right, the assassin seemed only a little taller than myself, and the weapons he held, as small as they were, seemed big even for him. "I can protect us with my bare hands." Dad pounded his right fist into his left and cracked his knuckles.

"Is that so?" The assassin suddenly raised his pistol and aimed it Dad's right shoulder. Before Dad could do anything, the trigger was pulled and a loud blast filled the house as a bullet shot forth and pierced through Dad's shoulder. Mom and I both cried out as Dad gasped, his arm slumping down as blood began to pour from the wound. I was frozen in place now, but no one seemed to know I was there; my cry of shock had been obscured by Mom's. "Can you really fight me with your hands now, having to rely on only your lesser hand? Send out your Abominations before I tire of this."

"Damn you... That shot wasn't quiet; the police will be here soon and when they get here, I'll have you put in jail for assault." Dad was talking between clenched teeth as he held his injured shoulder with his remaining good arm.

"I will not be here by the time your police arrive, and neither will you be."

"Anthony, for Pete's sake do as he says! How else can we defend ourselves?!" Mom suddenly exclaimed, getting out of bed and running over to a shelf on the wall, grabbing a belt which had two Pokéballs attached to it off the shelf. Removing the Pokéballs from it and dropping the belt itself, she tossed them into the air. "Raichu, Linoone! We need your protection!"

"Yeah, you're right, Amanda..." Dad hobbled over to a shelf on his side of the room and grabbed a similar belt off it, removing the two Pokéballs from it and throwing them next to where the yellow mouse-like Pokémon with a long, wire-like tail stood alongside a long-bodied, tan ferret Pokémon. "Jolteon, Floatzel; assist us in this fight!"

"Excellent." The assassin seemed pleased as a yellow-furred Pokémon whose fur stood up in spikes appeared along with a tall, proud-looking otter type Pokémon with a yellow buoy wrapped around its neck and lower back. "I will be rewarded greatly for this."

Before either Mom or Dad could give a command to their Pokémon, the assassin turned to face them, flipping his dagger around so he held it with the blade pointing backwards along his arm and putting his pistol away inside his cloak. Swiftly he suddenly charged forward, slashing out at Mom's Raichu, the blade meeting the Pokémon's throat and slicing right through it. The Raichu was down before it even knew what was happening, blood gushing out of its slit throat at a rapid rate. It coughed and gagged a few times amid pained breaths, before its eyes glazed over and it fell silent.

The assassin didn't stop at that, and with his continued momentum from his initial rush ran towards Dad's Jolteon. Jolteon bared its fangs as the assassin approached and electricity began to arc through its fur, but the assassin was far faster than expected and leapt onto its back, wrestling it to the ground with surprising strength for their size. Jolteon thrashed about underneath the assassin as he sat on top of it, quickly thrusting his dagger into Jolteon's neck and pounding it in deeper with his palm a few times until half of the nearly eight inch long blade was buried in the Jolteon's neck. Dad, Mom, and the remaining two Pokémon stared in shock as Jolteon kicked its legs wildly as its tongue rolled out of its mouth, and its eyes stared sorrowfully up at Dad. Finally its movements stopped, a puddle of blood having formed around it from the neck wound which nearly pierced through its entire neck.

Mom shook tears away from her eyes as she stared at the massacre, knowing action had to be taken, and fast. With both anger and sorrow in her voice, she yelled out, "Linoone, Quick Attack!"

The assassin was pulling the dagger out of Jolteon's neck when Linoone charged forward and collided with the assassin, sending him flying backwards. The assassin managed to right himself and came down on his feet, skidding backwards a few feet before coming to a stop against the room's wall. Undeterred and seemingly uninjured, the assassin quickly charged forward again, this time aiming for Linoone. Dodging around Floatzel who ran into his path in an attempt to stop him, even without a command from Dad, the assassin grabbed Linoone in a headlock and pushed it to the ground, flipping it over onto its back in the process. He stabbed the dagger into Linoone's unprotected chest, a gush of blood indicating that he had hit something vital. Giving the dagger a twist, Linoone screamed out in pain as the assassin released it, leaving Linoone to die the slowest death of the Pokémon as it writhed in pain on the ground, swishing its furry tail across the wood floor which was progressively soaked with dark red blood.

Only one Pokémon now remained, Floatzel. It was also the tallest, being taller than the assassin himself even. "A—Aqua Jet!" Dad managed to command. Floatzel roared and charged forward towards the assassin, who held his ground over the dying Linoone. Just as water began to appear out of thin air around Floatzel the assassin jumped up, coming down onto the back of Floatzel as it passed right beneath him, the water from the Aqua Jet attack dissipating. Holding onto Floatzel's yellow buoy, the assassin stabbed into its neck above the buoy with his dagger. Floatzel screamed in pain and collapsed as the assassin began to drag the dagger downwards, slicing through the Floatzel's back. Coming to the buoy, the blade easily sliced through the organic rubber-like materiel it was made of and popped it, the buoy deflating as the assassin continued to lengthen the cut. Mom hid her eyes in her hands and leaned against Dad's shoulder as he stared in frozen terror as the assassin vivisected his Floatzel. Floatzel gave one last whine and fell silent as the assassin finally pulled his dagger out of the Floatzel's carcass, the long cut extending from the Pokémon's neck down to its lower back.

My eyes were wide as I stared at the massacre, so utterly shocked and frozen that I didn't, couldn't, even scream or cry. The bodies of the four Pokémon lay scattered around the floor of my parents' bedroom, their blood spreading out and forming an ever wider puddle. Amid the carnage the assassin stood, holding his blood-splattered dagger in one hand, his once black cloak splattered with blood. The assassin returned the dagger to its sheath, hidden under his cloak, and in the same motion swiftly pulled out his pistol, aiming it at my parents. They too were as shocked as I was, if not more given their deeper attachment to the Pokémon who had just been murdered. My mom leaned against my dad's shoulder, unable to bring herself to look at the bloodbath. My dad's face was twisted into rage as he slowly shook his head; however he could do nothing with one of his arms crippled and his Pokémon dead.

"There will be no mercy for those who side with the Abominations. If you hadn't tried to order them to attack me, perhaps you could have lived. Perhaps."

The hair on the back of my neck rose, despite my age I knew what was going to happen next. Even knowing this, I still couldn't turn away.

Blam!

Blam!

Before my eyes the assassin pulled the trigger of the pistol twice, swinging it from my dad to my mom in between. In two near simultaneous hits, the bullets pierced straight through my parents' heads. The shots were clean, a contrast to the bloodbath with their Pokémon. I watched as my parents instantly collapsed, their legs no longer able to support the dead weight of their bodies. I watched my parents fall over each other into the puddle of blood that had now spread to where they had been standing. I watched, terrified, as my parents died right before my eyes.

Mama! Papa! I cried out inside my mind, tears welling up in my eyes. I wanted to scream out in agony, to run in and take revenge for my parents' deaths, but all my physical strength was suddenly completely drained.

The assassin looked around at the now six bodies, putting his gun away. He slowly walked between each body and gave each one a hard kick. There was no response from any of them, the corpses flopping over lifelessly at the kick. Satisfied, the assassin spit some sort of metal object out of his mouth and into his hand. Later, I found that the object was called a voice modulator, and was what had been used to change his voice. Putting the voice modulator into a pocket on the inside of his cloak, the assassin turned to face the door and walked over to it. My strength had yet to return, and I couldn't move a muscle as he opened the door with me right behind it.

The assassin looked down at me as I looked up at him, unable to see anything under his hood even when right next to him. Suddenly, a flash of lightning let up the inside of the house and for a brief second I could see the face under the hood. In that brief second I realized that the assassin wasn't a boy after all, but instead a surprisingly young-looking girl.

"I have no orders to kill a child. Leave now, never return to this house or speak of what you saw tonight, and you will not be harmed," the assassin said to me in her true voice, which was much more quiet and feminine than it had been with the voice modulator.

A surge of strength came back to me and I jumped up, running down the hall and into my room, away from the assassin. Grabbing a sheet I stuffed some of my clothes and personal items into it, before running back into the hall, down the stairs, and out through the front door and into the night. I never saw that house in person ever again. From that night on, my entire life and personality were changed forever.

Present Day, Year 2046

Coming out of the sort of trance I had been in while recounting that night, I looked over to Shrike and saw that he was leaning over the railing, looking a little sick.

"Oh, wow... How...how can you remember something so long gone in such...gruesome...detail..." Shrike gasped, looking a fair bit queasy.

"How well do you remember the day that Zelos guy almost killed Zethro?" I asked.

Shrike leaned back again and shook his head out some. "Yeah, I see... Something as impacting as that; it's hard to forget. But, geeze, how can you be unaffected by it?"

"Who said I'm not? After thinking about that night for so many years, I guess I've grown used to the thought of all that gore... All that bloodshed... All the death that happened before my very eyes..." I finally caved in and started to sob, wiping away some tears with the back of my hand. Chuckling as I cried, I shook my head. "You see? I just don't show it as much now as I used to, but the pain is still there constantly, in the back of my heart."

Shrike nodded. "Yeah, after hearing about what happened... It seems hard, if not impossible, for the pain to not linger."

Shrike fell silent, and for a minute there was a somewhat awkward silence before he spoke up again. "I think she, the assassin, really was from the Crimson Dawn..."

"You think so? When we encountered the Crimson Dawn, that was my first thought as well."

"She called Pokémon 'abominations' and used a gold dagger, both of which match the Crimson Dawn. Her cloak was black, yes, but she was an assassin after all and a red one would stand out."

"Then what about the gun and that 'High Order' thing?"

"Well, the High Order could very well be a division of the Crimson Dawn; a sect. The Crimson Dawn seemed highly organized while we were with them, so perhaps this High Order is just another of their internal organizations, which the assassin belonged to."

"And the gun? The Crimson Dawn seemed pretty basic and archaic; a gun doesn't seem suited to them."

"You could say the same for the ship we stole from them. While mostly they seem to be archaic, here and there you seem to be able to find normal or even advanced technology, sometimes just in a different form. As for why use the gun when she already had a dagger..." Shrike paused a second. "Perhaps it's part of their customs, that they can only use their blades on Pokémon and not humans or something. Thus, another weapon was needed to, well, kill your parents or anyone else in the way who wasn't a Pokémon."

I lowered my eyes. "I see."

Shrike sighed and patted my shoulder. "Look, why don't you just continue on with your story now?"

"Yeah, I guess I should..."

The Past, Year 2039

Life was hard after I ran away. Very hard. The first two weeks were the hardest, because I was all on my own then. I knew that I could never be seen or caught by any of the countless people who were looking for me, because I feared that they would make me talk about what happened, and the assassin would somehow find out and come back to kill me for doing as she said not to. Yeah, I wasn't that bright back then, but all I could think about was guaranteeing my own survival. To avoid interaction with other people, I made the decision to stick to alleys at all times and avoid the main roads and places where people gathered, rather there were people there at the time or not. I was always on the move looking for food and shelter, the two most important necessities in the life of a homeless kid like I was. For two weeks I wandered without any long-term purpose, struggling to survive amid the other homeless people that populated Petalburg City.

Strength is a highly valued asset among the homeless, an asset which I lacked. I often ran into two situations; I would either come upon another homeless person feasting on some leftover meal in the garbage, or find something myself only to have it taken away from me when someone far stronger than I found me. It wasn't long before I was malnourished and on the verge of dying. What I discovered I needed to live on the streets, even more than I needed food, was strength. Power. Two weeks after I left home, I found my strength. And along with it, a much endeared friend.

It was night, and I was exploring a part of the city I had never been in before, not even with my parents, on my everlasting quest for sustenance. In the dim light I saw a dumpster in the alley between two tall buildings and cautiously slipped out of the alley I had been walking in, behind the buildings, and into the alley with the dumpster. Glancing around to make sure no one was there to see me if I managed to score a grand prize, I pushed open the lid of the dumpster. Instead of finding food, however, a small black shadow suddenly burst out at me, hitting me in the face and knocking me down. I collapsed onto the ground, the black shadow standing on my chest and making it hard for me to breath or move.

"Dour... Dour..." the thing growled at me. My eyes began to focus again and I realized that the thing was dog-shaped, with bone like objects around his wrists, back, and face. From its appearance and the noise it made, I was able to remember that such a Pokémon was called a Houndour. I had seen few Pokémon but Rattata since I ran away, so my knowledge of Pokémon was starting to slip away.

I weakly smiled at the Houndour, who I guessed truthfully thought I wanted whatever was inside the dumpster. "Hey, little guy... I won't take whatever it is you have, so just let me go and I'll be on my way..."

The Houndour stopped growling and first sniffed me, before looking up at the air and sniffing it a moment, seeming startled. Yelping, the Houndour suddenly leaped off me and jumped on a few boxes before diving into the dumpster again. I began to get up when I heard something coming, something that sounded like claws hitting the cement-covered ground. Dropping back down again, I lay limp with my eyes half-closed. Whatever was coming had scared the Houndour, and I had a feeling I should be scared as well.

The clacking of claws grew closer, and a large shape walked out of the shadows and into my vision. It looked like a bigger, adult version of the Houndour; I was able to remember its name as being Houndoom. I suddenly realized why the Houndour had acted so scared when it sensed the Houndoom coming; this was its territory, and the Houndour was an intruder. Just like I was.

The Houndoom immediately noticed me lying on the ground, growling as it walked over to me. I tried to remain as lifeless as possible as the Houndoom began sniffing me. Lifting its head up it sniffed the air and growled before bending down again and giving me a hard shove with its muzzle. I let my body lifelessly flop over as if I was dead, hoping I could fool the Houndoom. The Houndoom gave one last growl and turned away, walking back down the alley and disappearing into the shadows.

I gave a sigh of relief and quickly stood up. I knew that I should probably run and get away from this part of the city as fast as I could in my hungry, weakened state, but I frowned as I thought of leaving the Houndour there at risk of being found by the Houndoom. I walked over to the dumpster and stood on my toes to look into it, finding that the Houndour had huddled itself up into a ball in the far corner of it, shaking visibly. He obviously greatly feared the Houndoom. "Hey, don't worry, he's gone; it's safe now. Come on; let's get away from here, you and me together." The Houndour looked up from the ball he had curled himself into, and I saw that he had been crying, tears streaking down his face.

"DOOM!" A flurry of black fur suddenly burst into the alley again, charging straight at me. In horror I realized that it was the Houndoom, and that I must not have fooled it after all. It had just wanted to take me by surprise when I was off my guard. Throwing myself out of the path of the charging Houndoom, I collapsed and rolled along the ground just before the Houndoom's snapping, blood-stained jaws closed on where I had been standing. When I stopped rolling I found that my right hand was lying next to a hollow metal pipe with a cap welded onto one end of it. Grabbing the pipe and scrambling to my feet, I held it out in front of me as the Houndoom turned to face me. Behind the Houndoom I saw the Houndour looking out from the top of the dumpster, staring in awe at how I faced the Houndoom instead of run away.

I lunged at the Houndoom who leaped at me at the same time, however I had predicted its attack and was prepared this time. I ducked as the Houndoom flew over me, stabbing the hollow end of the pipe upwards and into the Houndoom's chest, using strength I didn't even know I had. The Houndoom howled and I scrambled out of the way as it sailed past me, rolling head over heels on the ground before coming to a stop on its back. The pipe had stunned it, but it was quickly regaining its senses and I knew I had little time. Going somewhat mad with fear and my instinct to survive—I knew that the Houndoom would kill me if it got up, especially after I attacked it—I ran over to it and began beating it with the pipe. What am I doing?! I remember thinking to myself as I beat the Houndoom like I was a barbarian. It howled in pain at each impact, but I began to realize I simply lacked the raw, physical power to inflict the Houndoom any serious harm. In addition I was quickly tiring, my hits becoming weaker.

A glint out of the corner of my eyes drew my attention, and I noticed a long shard of glass lying on the ground next to a garbage bag with a hole in it, the rest of a broken bottle visible inside the bag. Hoping that the Houndoom didn't get up while my back was turned I dived for the glass shard, carefully picking it up and running back over to the Houndoom who still lay on its back. I placed the shard on its belly, the sharpest end sticking down into its fur. Turning the pipe around, I positioned the end of the pipe with the cap over the shard, which I held up against the Houndoom's chest like a stake. "I will no longer be weak." I growled, before thrusting the pipe down with all the strength I could muster, hitting the shard perfectly. The Houndoom cried out loudly as the shard pierced through its flesh and impaled its chest, blood welling up around the wound. I grabbed the pipe with both hands—the shard could stand on its own now that it was stuck in the Houndoom's chest—and thrust it down again, pounding the shard in even deeper. Again and again I pounded the shard in with the pipe, each time eliciting a howl of pain from the Houndoom and drawing even more blood to the point where it began to spurt up onto me.

At last I had pounded the shard into the Houndoom's chest so that it wasn't even visible anymore, the Houndoom thrashing around on the ground weakly. Dropping the pipe I stepped back, only realizing then what I had done. My eyes were wide as I watched the Houndoom wheeze its last breaths and roll onto its side, which seemed to only bring it more pain. At last the Houndoom's eyes closed, its tongue rolled out of its jaw, and all its limbs fell limp. At last, it was dead. I had managed to kill it, that which was so much more powerful than me. In a daze I turned to look at the dumpster, where the Houndour was still looking out from, its jaw hanging open in disbelief.

"This time I mean it; it's safe to come out now." I weakly grinned at the Houndour, and realized that I hadn't killed the Houndoom just to save myself, but to save him too. My true strength; the bond me and that particular Houndour shared, had finally been found.

That night marked the beginning of a new era for me, and although I did not know what was to come at the time, me and Fury—who I named so because of the fury he had induced in me—had the best meal I had had since leaving my home. Not wanting to waste any viable food source, considering how scarce food was to both of us back then, we feasted on the corpse of the Houndoom I had killed. Fury ate his portion raw, but I roasted my portion on a small fire I was able to make out of some scrap wood and a nearly empty lighter I found in the trash.

Present Day, Year 2046

"Your past... It's pretty gruesome..." Shrike gasped as he bent over the railing of the balcony again.

"Yeah, I guess it is... I never gave it much thought, though. But now, thinking back, I can see just how brutal my early life was."

Shrike stood up straight and shook his head. "My past isn't even half as interesting as yours is. If this were a contest about whose past is better, I think we can safely declare you the winner already."

I laughed and shook my head in response. "No, no. This isn't a contest, and I don't care how boring yours is. I just...want to know."

"I guess I'm the same. I want to know about your past as well. How you came to be at the Petalburg Pokémon Academy, and where that 'Lord Dark' nickname of yours came from." Shrike shrugged and leaned against the rail, looking at me. "So...continue with your story."

The Past, Year 2042

Well, I won't bore you with the exact details of everything happened in the three years between when I found Fury and moved off the streets and into the Pokémon Academy, if you don't want them. Basically, word of how I killed the Houndoom spread fast among the other homeless kids. Very fast. In just a few nights I had people coming up to me who looked up to me as a sort of leader, and wanted to form a clan of sorts. While hesitant at first, I knew that if I had a clan supporting me, instead of depending on just myself and Fury, survival on the streets would be easier. So I accepted the position as leader of a new street clan, and very quickly my clan grew. While I had no real experience as a leader, I adapted to the role of a clan leader—I had no choice but to—and a wave of change hit the streets of Petalburg. My clan wasn't the first organization of homeless kids in Petalburg, far from it, really; however, compared to the other various clans and gangs that exist in not only Petalburg but every city, mine was far less like a crime syndicate. Instead of using my followers to commit crimes, I organized search and scavenge parties who took turns gathering food and finding viable shelter, which were distributed and used evenly. Even I had no better living conditions or meals than whoever our newest member was at any given time.

I did not want people to know my real name, as I was worried that someone would turn me into the police if they knew who I was, so I adopted the name "Lord of the Dark" by my clan members, who sometimes shortened it to "Lord Dark." The reasoning behind the name is simple, really; I was the only female clan leader in Petalburg at that time—and to my knowledge there has been no other female clan leaders since I left either—and acted more like a boy than a girl anyways, so being referred to as a boy just seemed more appropriate. The dark part is from how I always stayed in shadows and never ventured out into any source of light, be it sunlight or streetlights at night.

As it turned out, I was fortunate in not revealing my true name to anyone. My clan's reputation for equality and fairness drew the attention of other clans, who viewed my methods as weak and my clan a waste of valuable resources that the other clans desired. If they had known who I was, I am confident that they would have informed the police so that I would be taken away from my clan without being able to pass leadership on to someone else. In my leave, it would have been easy for my clan to be usurped by a rival clan who would break it apart.

Three years after I met Fury and founded my clan, my life was again set to undergo a drastic change. I was with a salvage party who were exploring one of the deeper parts of the city which was often riskier to explore due to increased law enforcement, yet offered much greater rewards than the outskirts of the city did. Telling the three other members of my party to stand guard at the entrance to an alley that led out directly onto a main road, Fury and I ventured into the alley, carefully examining every piece of trash for anything of use.

"Hey. You one of those homeless kids I've heard about? What's your name?"

I suddenly spun around at the voice, raising the pipe I was holding (the very same pipe I had killed the Houndoom with. While I didn't normally possess the strength I had wielded it with when Fury's life was threatened, it was somewhat of a status symbol to my clan) threateningly as Fury leapt in front of me, fangs bared. A man had been leaning behind a stack of boxes this whole time, a cigarette held between two fingers of his right hand and his left crossed across his chest.

"Hey, cool it. I'm not threatening you. See?" The man dropped the cigarette and held up his hands in a gesture of peace. I lowered my pipe some, but kept my muscles tense.

"My name is none of your concern. You may call me the Lord of the Dark, though."

"Lord of the Dark, eh? Weird nickname for a young girl. What's your little friend called?"

"Fury."

I glanced behind me at the three other clan members, who couldn't see the man yet were able to see that I was confronting something. I shook my head to indicate that they should hold their position.

"Well, I guess I ought to tell you my name as well, huh? My name's Noah, from Dewford Island. Pleased to meat you, LD—you don't mind if I call you LD, do you?—and Fury." Noah nodded at the two of us in turn, before holding out his hand. I blinked as I realized he wanted to shake hands with me and cautiously took his hand and shook it.

Present Day, Year 2046

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait! Noah, as in the gym leader here?! The same Noah we met at the café, the one which you seemed to want to avoid?!" Shrike suddenly interrupted.

"Yes, that same Noah..."

"You mean he's the one who got you off the streets?! How?!"

"I was just getting to that..."

"Oh, yeah, right... Go on, I won't interrupt again."

The Past, Year 2042

"So, LD, how long have you been living on the streets?" Noah had casually sat down on a cardboard box, although I remained standing and ready to run if need be.

"Not sure. I don't really keep track of time; there are far more important things to worry about."

"I see. And when did you meet Fury?"

"Not long after I...left home."

"Left home? I don't suppose you'll tell me why?"

"No, I won't."

"Ah. I didn't expect you to."

There was a moment of silence between us, which I was completely unwilling to break. Silence was perfectly fine by my standards. Finally Noah did, however. "I suppose you want to know what I'm doing asking you these questions, huh?

"That would be nice to know."

"Well, you see, I'm the son of the Dewford Island gym leader—you know what a gym leader is, right?" I nodded. "Good. See, my family is very well off because of my father's position, which I will likely take over someday soon. Sometimes this can get to my head, so once in a while I like to hang around those in extreme poverty. Once in a while I like to hang around those who have nothing at all, even. And sometimes... Sometimes I can change a person's life, if you get what I mean."

My heart skipped a beat. "You mean, you could give me money or something? Is that it?"

"Sometimes it's money. Sometimes it's more specific items, like food. However, before I can give you anything, there's something I would like of you... I guess you could call this a trade."

"What? I don't really have anything to give... Isn't that why you want to help me?"

"I want a Pokémon battle. You can use Fury, and I'll use one of my Pokémon." Noah suddenly pulled back his jacket, revealing a belt full of Pokéballs which had been hidden beneath it. "You can pick one at random, to ensure I don't purposefully put you at a disadvantage."

"A battle? But I've never had a battle before..." I replied hesitantly.

"Oh, come on. I see something in you; a fighting spirit. You've fought in fights before, haven't you?"

"Several."

"A battle isn't much different; you're just not the one fighting. All you have to do is tell Fury what you want him to do."

"Well...all right. I'll do it." I gulped and nodded. I didn't know why I was so nervous about having my first Pokémon battle; I had seen and done far worse, yet somehow I knew that with this battle everything would change. At the time, I didn't know whether that change would be for better or for worse.

"Good. This alley seems big enough, so we can do it here. You stand over there, then, and I'll stand over here." Noah pointed to spots on the ground a good distance apart, and I walked over to my spot with Fury. Fury took up a position between me and Noah, spreading his legs apart and lowering himself close to the ground, taking up a battle stance.

One of the members of my party walked up behind me and tapped me in my shoulder, whispering in my ear, "Lord Dark, Callum has advised that we retreat back to our base now. Dawn is near."

"Tell him that you three may return if you want, however I will remain here and return on my own when done." I whispered back.

"Yes, Lord Dark. I wish you luck in this...battle."

"And I wish you luck in having a safe journey home."

We nodded to each other and I watched the boy return to the other two and report to them what I had said. They all looked at me and nodded before walking back down the alley in the direction we had come from, carrying the bags of spoils we had found.

"Are you ready to start?" Noah called over to me from where he stood.

"Yes, I am."

"Then choose one of my Pokéballs, and let's begin this battle!"

I pointed to the second Pokéball from his right, and he removed it from his belt, throwing it into the air. For the first time since the night three years prior when my parents were killed I watched as a Pokémon rematerialized out of a Pokéball; in this case, a rather squat and fat Pokémon with a yellow body and hands that looked like boxing gloves; a Makuhita.

"You chose well, as Makuhita one of my less powerful Pokémon; however, watch out that you don't tale too many hits, you're at the type disadvantage here. Nothing much could be done about that, though, as I don't have any non-fighting type Pokémon on me at the moment. I'll try to go easy on you." Noah smirked as he said the last sentence, which got my blood boiling a little.

"You don't have to; I can defeat you anyways no matter what advantages or disadvantages I have!" I smirked back at Noah, confidence filling me.

"Now that's what I'm talking about! You have the attitude, now can you deliver? Let's go!"

And with that, the battle was on; the battle that would change my life and the entire course of my destiny. Little did I know at the time, but I would never return to my clan again...

To be Continued...