Helix Arc: 4

Aria stepped back into the lounge and felt the hush of conversation quiet the room better than the last breath of a dying man. She glanced back and forth between the trainers pretending not to be impressed by her KO performance. The flicked glances, tensed posture, and whispers tickled the strength of her confidence with an eerily familiar sensation that reminded her of fireworks, blood, and steel. Aria touched the black probation ball on her hip, considering jumping through the glass windows of the lounge, and stepped back into the room. She avoided eye contact and brushing shoulders better than an oddish near a campfire during a dry spell. Slipping into the cold hard plastic seat and pressing her fists into her knees was all she could manage until the heat of embarrassment lifted off of her in shimmering waves. Her flushing cheeks cooled but her thoughts were far from stiff. After that little stunt in the arena, if Dragon Fang didn't kill her, Raven would.

"Hey, you're the trainer with the tentacruel, right?"

Aria tensed in a controlled flinch. She slowly peeked up at the ace bold enough to stand in front of her.

"That was an amazing battle. What's his level?"

"Well, umm, I'm not too sure," Aria replied.

"Really? With that kind of strength, trainers would be dragging their egos up and down this hall so hard there'd be a dent in the floor. Well, it's not like it matters anyway. You know, I once saw this guy with a level 55 Contest Flygon and it couldn't even bend a penny. I bet that tentacruel of yours would knock him cold in a skinny minute. What's his name?"

A smile slowly spread across Aria's face.

"It's Styx."

Before caution could stop them, origin stories were traded, other trainers joined in, and the bubble of intimidation the KO had created broke under the fellowship of pokemon. Keeping up with all of the chatter was harder than running the hottest stand at the Boulder Pokemon Festival. By the time Azura's match came on at the end of the day, Aria couldn't even crane her neck far enough to watch it. Listening to the commentators was all she could manage through the inquiries over her pokemon:


"It's come down to the wire here in Wriggly Coliseum and if you ask me, they've saved the best for last. The final matchup tonight is A Group's Azura Valenis versus B Group's Lauran Rockwell."

"Both trainers are in the league circuit and have been gaining popularity throughout the season. If you're thinking about leaving early, you may want to change your mind. This will be a match you don't want to miss."

"It's a shame that one of them will be going home this early in the game. Both have the class and style of a real spotlighted ace and it would have been nice to see both of them move on to the next round."


Aria drew the attention of the crowd away by notifying them of the battle. Her sudden popularity couldn't compete with the well-earned reputations of the last set of competitors. The trainers turned to watch, giving her a little room to breathe. Aria capitalized on the moment and used the distraction on herself. Pokemon were pokemon no matter who they belonged to. Prompted by the referee, Lauran Rockwell threw out her pokeball. A melodious call drifted through the air as an Altaria floated out onto the battlefield. A slow spiral down to the ground landed her a few feet in front of the trainer's square. Across the field, Azura tipped an invisible hat of recognition before throwing a nest ball over his head. A fearow unraveled its heavy wings and cut Altaria's singsong in half with a raspy screech. He circled back and landed on Azura with one leg on his shoulder and the other on his forearm. His wings arched around like an angel's, or perhaps demon's, wings. The performance dazzled the audience better than a gem show and sent the commentators into motion:


"Now, I'm surprised Azura choose Wick, the fearow, as his first pokemon," Bill prompted. "He's normally a support pokemon used in duel battles. Putting him on his own tonight shows how much thought Azura put into the battle. Analyzing opponents and preparing for every situation makes him as successful as he is. He knows something that we don't and I trust his judgment better than my own.

"There's a reason why his name comes up in every circuit podcast, radio channel, and TV show."

"He's got a knack for sizing up trainers, predicting what pokemon they will use, and how they will attack. I highly doubt he made a mistake."

"People seriously underestimate the power of support pokemon. They have to be just as strong as the main fighters to withstand attacks for the entire length of the battle."

"But normal/flying versus dragon/flying, I have to say, I think Lauren has the advantage right now."

"Those dragon types are tough. It won't be easy for a fearow to beat her."

"You've got specialty versus basic and there's nothing more controversial than statistics."

"Like I said, this is going to be a match you don't want to miss!"


The buzzer went off, the match began, and Aria couldn't look away.

Trainer commands were lost to the cheers shaking the arena. Azura hardly flinched against the wake of his pokemon's wings as the two combatants leapt into the sky. Wick and Altaria flew into a wide circle around one another until something passed between them like the drop of a checkered race flag. One flap sent Wick rocketing for Altaria faster than a jet plane. The kinetic energy of the wind washing over his wings soaked into his feathers, causing them to glow lightly in an aerial ace that cut Altaria across the shoulder. The speed and power of the hit sent Wick circling in a wide bank right in front of Altaria's path. She spewed a dragon breath that dragged with the distance until a jerk of compensation placed it across his back. The two adjusted trajectories and raced for one another in a deadly game of chicken. A second dragon breath screamed into existence. Wick's muscles tensed and bulged. The next flap shot him into the sky faster than the blazing attack could follow. Altaria soared by underneath as he spiraled into the sky with the strength of a fly powering his wings. At the peak, he tucked them in and fell faster than the cameras could follow. It was fast, but predictable. Altaria caught a warm draft and tilted out of range seconds before Wick screeched by. Screams and gasps strangled the crowd as he flew into what looked like a plunge ending in a dirt stop, but the heavy set wings opened. It took all of Wick's strength to keep them from snapping back like a convince store umbrella in a hurricane. He leveled off with Altaria dipping behind him, hot on the trail. The trees on the field jumped at their passing.

Confined to the airspace of the stadium, shortened even further due to the protective barriers hovering over the fans, the two made a steep ascent into the sky. With altitude the only unlimited resource, Wick took point but quickly lost the lead. Altaria's lightweight wings brought her up alongside the fearow faster than anticipated. Medium range battle switched to close combat. Pecking and scratching replaced fire and wind. Altaria's small limbs faltered against Wick's long talons and beak, forcing her to break away with him chasing after her beat for beat. They dove and weaved around one another with attacks glittering at every turn. Wick misjudged the power of a sudden burst of flight and banked wide above the terrain. It allowed Altaria time to prepare a sing. Azura anticipated the move and ordered an ear splitting screech to drown out the notes before they could put dreams in all of their heads. Brown then turned to gold as Wick tilted his wings against the current, pumped his shoulders, and jumped into an aerial ace that clipped Altaria in a spray of white cloud. The two shifted into a circular formation but Altaria was outmatched in speed. She had to change directions and fly in an opposing circle to even hope of coming across Wick's path. By the time she caught on to his rhythm, the pressure in the arena started to change. The rain dance had begun.

Unpredictable updrafts turned knife smooth flights into saw strokes. The crowd pointed and shouted as a dark cloud formed over the arena. Altaria counted the beats and used another dragon breath as Wick soared across her path. Brown feathers scattered into the strengthening winds but the fearow did not stop. Drops of water fell from the cloud. They became a drizzle and matured into a downpour in a matter of seconds. A gray haze filled the stadium, blurring the aerial battle through the camera lens. Lauren cursed. Every time she raised her head to the sky, the rain forced her to look away. Altaria was on her own as Wick's shadow darted through the haze worse than the haunted musings of the ghost types. Several dragon breaths hissed and sizzled in pulses of steam but never reached their target through the downpour. Each breath became more labored. Every flap of her wings against the wind and rain stole more and more of her strength. Altaria's wings absorbed every drop that touched her feathers. Lifting them was like trying to lift a blanket out of a pool. She dropped in altitude and slowed her glide to a flying type's equivalent of a shaky bicycle. Wings made of brown feathers suitable for trash cans and rags were not beautiful, but they were the most suited to slap away frost, bat down rain, and tear through sudden updrafts. The winds of a tropical storm were the only thing strong enough to make a fearow think twice about taking to the sky and Wick was as comfortable in the rain as a sunny day.

Altaria knew better than to try to continue the fight in the sky. She lowered for the cover of the canopy on the field below but the heavy drag of her wings made her a bull's eye on a dart board. Wick dropped out of the sky in another fly faster than gravity could pull the rain to the ground. Altaria spun off in a shriek as he stuck, catching her fall on the trees. An aerial ace flung her out of the greenery and onto the rocks below. A weak singsong note of struggle drew Wick in like blood to a sharpedo. Azura ducked as he dipped into a low glide across the battlefield. The wind cast a glow over his wings, soaking them with just as much energy as the clouds overhead. Altaria tried to find cover behind the rocks but with wings made of liquid lead, she was as clumsy as a magikarp out of water. Wick tilted to the side so that the glowing tip of his feathers brushed the ground and struck Altaria between the rocks with the precision of a surgeon. Lauren flinched as the fearow soared inches over her head. The victory bell followed, securing the feint and spinning the crowd into a mass of hooting cheers. Azura, the favorite, had won. It was up to the commentators to polish off the victory:


"Now this is why I love tournaments, Bill. Normally, aerial battles don't appeal to the crowd. Most people aren't patient enough to wait for the pokemon to complete their flight patterns. But when they are done right, the winning hit becomes that much more satisfying."

"Especially between two aces who you know are going to put on a show worth watching."

"Don't forget about the pokemon. It takes both to win a tournament. And it looks like winning is exactly what Azura continues to do. Right from the gate, he had a plan, knew what he was doing, and had confidence in his pokemon. It was a beautiful example of flawless strategy and execution."

"I don't think anyone could have ended the first day of preliminaries better than Azura Valenis."

The ace took his victory with a magazine worthy smirk and signaled Wick to clear up the clouds with a sunny day. Wick acknowledged it with a screech and ascended into a rectangular like figure eight over the stadium. The clouds grew lighter, the rain stopped, and soon the sun once again beamed over the arena. The crowd oo'd and awed in gratitude with more clapping and laughing in a day well spent.

"Tomorrow kicks off day two of preliminaries so make sure you set your alarms. From the way things have gone so far, you won't want to miss a single second of tomorrow's match ups."

"Everyone who made it through round one will face a new double battle tomorrow. Trainers will use two pokemon at once to defeat their opponent and officially claim their spot in the North White Fantasy Tournament."

"Stay tuned as we follow tonight's broadcast with our highlight reel and postgame show. This is Frank and Bill Shusawittz saying good night and get ready, the tournament has only begun!"


Aria smiled as she looked away from the TV to one of the digital boards nearby. The brackets fluttered with the final addition to round two and a unanimous sigh of relief filled the lounge. The glitz and glam of celebrities preparing for follow up interviews, rooftop parties, and other celebrations smothered Aria's spurt of popularity. She received her prize money, and with a few instructions for tomorrow, followed the remnants of B Group out of the stadium without incident. The crowd waiting outside hardly bothered to look as they waited for A Group trainers to potentially filter out from the other side. There was one person attentively waiting for B Group to appear. Raven stepped out of the crowd as Aria came down the steps.

"Congratulations," he said with an impish smirk on his lips, "winning a battle in less than five seconds might be a new record."

"Or the ticket that gets us home," Aria replied with a wave of her prize money.

The weight of their situation pulled down their smiles. The two shifted away from the open courtyard into a more private section of walkway to examine the reward. Aria pulled out the check. Hope sputtered out like a wet fuse box when she failed to rub out the ink permanently drawn across the total box. Did the clerk mistake the check for bathroom tissue? The amount of coin distributed was enough for a single person to obtain food and lodging for the night at a pokemon center. She should have known this would happen. The celebrity aces in the tournament didn't need more money. They were here for popularity, public advertising, investments, and boasting. In the business and sponsorship world, it was invaluable. For a couple of refugees trying to sneak out of Helix, it was a hyper beam to the chest. Aria tried to laugh but her voice cracked and it sounded more like a whimper. Showcasing her identity to the stadium was now worthless. Raven saw the terror flicker in her eyes and quickly touched her shoulder before it could spread to her courage.

"No problem," he quickly interrupted. "I can take care of myself."

Raven drew Aria's attention away from the money by pulling out a stack of folded bills from his pocket that rivaled the thickness of her prize money.

"How did you get that?" Aria hissed with a suspicious glance around the area.

"I didn't steal it, if that's what you're thinking."

"You battled?"

"Gambled."

"You bet on me?. . . What if I had lost!?"

"You didn't, so why worry?"

"But how did you get money to gamble in the first place?"

"Let's just say an Adonis fan was too overzealous too double check my side of the bet."

"Raven!"

"Calm down, already, I knew you would win."

"How?"

"Because I believed in you."

Aria lost her voice against Raven's smile, and when he realized the depth of his words, both of them blushed and looked away. Raven recovered first.

"All you have to do is win a few more battles and then we'll have enough to get to Shellport," he said. "I can support myself with a few well placed bets so stop worrying and enjoy the victory for once."

The two caught eyes again and matching smiles pulled across their faces.

"It was a good one," he finished.

With no choice but to detour from their mission, Raven and Aria retired to a pokemon center. They talked about the battles and easily blended in with the tourists loitering around the center. Aria eased her nerves by going down to the pool and releasing Styx. She washed him with praise and compliments and rubbed down his helmet, taking extra care to give every tentacle a stroke. There were other trainers in the gym/pool area but she didn't dare give them a glance in case they recognized her. Luckily, they were too busy watching Styx's KO on the highlight reel to realize that Aria Wicket was staying in the same pokemon center as them. And when the official terms of round two came out, the excitement snubbed her out completely. Aria glanced over the name of her opponent but it was all she could manage against the pressure and anticipation tickling her gut so hard dinner might make a second appearance. She hid underneath her cot blanket with her face buried in her pillow for the rest of the night. Even with both fire canines pressed against her chest and back like a life vest, sleeping was impossible. The dream eater in her mind kept her awake with a single fact.

Tomorrow, she would battle again.