Dragon Rush

Taking flight on the back of a pokémon is like nothing I'd ever felt before. Before takeoff, I braced myself by wrapping my arms around Nova's waist, uncertain what to expect. My grip tightened as her skarmory jumped into the air and flew into the wind. Tears streamed back on my face as the wind perpetually shoved against my face, no matter which way we turned. Maneuvering through the trees, swinging low every now and then only to get a better angle to swoop back up overwhelmed me with nausea. And the shaking! Every second of it, I clung tighter and tighter to Nova's back, wishing my legs would suddenly sprout those little hairs that spinaraks use to stick to flat surfaces. You know, like the ones Spider-Man has.

But once we got airborne and soared over the treetops, the sailing was much smoother. There were moments even when it didn't feel like we were moving at all, except for the perpetual feeling of the wind slicing me open. Speaking of things too sharp to touch without protection, skarmory-back is not my recommendation for how to fly. When given a choice, saddle up on the back of a pidgeot or a fearow or something. Even a large beedrill or a reasonably calm charizard would do the trick. If you're patient, ride on the back of a rapidash. Better yet, strap a couple of them to a carriage and make the trip that way.

Nothing with knives for skin. That's all I'm saying.

Once you get past the bloody legs and the feeling of not knowing where to hold on because pokémon don't come with handles, the sensation of flying can best be summed up by the word exhilarating. Those few times when I had the courage to look down through the clouds to catch images of the sweeping fields of grass where Elly went on her little rampage or to the castle in the heart of Stibium City where Valence turned his entire organization against me, I realized how small a lot of those things are. In the moment, they each felt like the entire world to me. But the region was vast! I could see the Gallium Mountains jutting into the sky and I spotted the Tellurium River coursing through the land toward the ocean far to the southeast, and yet I couldn't see where either landmark began! The river disappeared into the base of the mountain range before I could locate its source, and the mountains sliced clear across the region as far as I could see.

From this altitude, my problems seemed to matter so much less.

Nova turned her head to the side and shouted, "Beer mucky! It's a weird clay."

"There's clay in your beer?" I shouted back. "That is weird."

"No!" she shouted again. The wind resistance really took her voice away almost the instant she began talking. It was tough to understand her. She put more emphasis as she repeated, "Leer Ray!" She still wasn't making any sense.

"What is that? Some kind of new attack technique for skarmories?"

She shook her head. This time she tried pointing below us toward the swirly clouds. "Clear… day!"

"Clear day? What does that have to do with anything?"

Instead of going through all that miscommunication again with an even longer phrase, Nova just pointed down toward the mountains.

Argentum City came into view as Scar the skarmory began to dip lower. He swerved around a few puffy clouds and sloped gently downward, increasing the rate of our descent. Every few seconds, Scar would sweep his tail end up to the right and then back to the left before retaining his straight-ahead approach. Nova explained later that he did that to keep his bearing the way he wanted it. The wind naturally pushed against him and could force him off course if left unchecked. He angled himself as a way of being effortful in recovering his trajectory.

Landing was easier than taking off, but felt about six times as terrifying. Scar's feathers began clattering together as he spread his wings to catch whatever thermal updrafts he could. The sound gave me visions of ramming into the ground and bouncing along a street full of rocks and some metal debris, just like you see in action movies. But Scar never collided. He maintained control of the descent the whole way, slowing so completely he practically hovered over the pokémon center before he finally landed on the front porch with a touch as soft as bouncing on the bed.

"There we go," Nova said, patting Scar on the back of the head. She swept some snow off his beak and neck. She lifted an arm and angled herself so she could get a good view of me, still clinging to her as if I believed letting go was a suicide pact.

"We're safely on the ground now," she assured me. "You can let go and hop down now."

I realized how it probably looked with me holding so tightly to the back of a girl, and so I let go and immediately slipped right over the side of Scar's slick, steely body. The snow broke my fall, fortunately. Too bad it was also the cause of my slide. The extra moisture in the air really made Scar's body wet and slick when touched by the nylon exterior of the snowsuit I had smartly donned before planning a trip to the mountain peaks.

"I told you to wear the leather," said Nova. "At least you didn't stubbornly try to wear those shorts you had on in Wolfram. Your skin would have frozen to Scar like superglue. I'm not sure even withdrawing him into a pokéball would separate you two then."

"Trust me when I say I'm glad I'm not naked," I agreed. The snow was higher than it had been when I left the city last time. Back then, Lauren and Blade and I had walked away with the snow halfway up my shins. As I stood and brushed off my coat sleeves, the snow came up past my kneecaps. The air stung my cheeks. I pulled the aviator goggles up onto my fur cap and felt my eyelashes bond in frozen matrimony.

Nova hopped down from Scar's back, patted him again, and then recalled him into the pokéball. Flying-types don't enjoy the cold air, she explained. She also went into a succinct explanation of how the weather can make landing a flying pokémon rough and used as an example the wind resistance that can't be avoided. When it's snowing, imagine that same wind resistance but colder and blinding.

Finished with the flying lesson, she said, "It's still a little early for dinner." She looked into the sky for a time estimate. Personally, I always used my watch—at least until I was twelve years old and lost three watches in the span of one week playing games that had nothing to do with miltank tipping, climbing trees, or scaling people's houses. Since then, I use my phone's time display.

I didn't pay dinner the attention I normally would. I lifted my leg until it was clear of the top of the snow, planted it slowly until it hit solid ground, and then lifted it again. I couldn't even reach the ground under all of that powder. It just packed together underfoot like a barrier of white protecting the grass and sand.

"Why is there so much snow?" I asked.

"It snows a lot here," Nova answered. She checked the snow the same way I did. "I don't know. It's not that different from when I was here last."

"When was that?"

"About a week ago."

"Really? It's been a little longer for me."

She got excited. "Were you here when the hot springs dried up?"

"Um…" What was the right answer? Should I tell her anything about it? The idea of torturing a legendary fire pokémon underground just to keep the city hot sounded far-fetched. She probably wouldn't even believe it. "I didn't know the hot springs dried up. That must have happened after I left."

"It's a pretty wild story," Nova said. "You should ask someone at the gym to tell you about it. I assume you're heading straight there."

"I am. With any luck, Long is still hanging around and I can catch him before he goes home for the night."

She nodded. "Well, good luck. I'll call you after the sun sets and tell you where we're staying for the night so you can pay, as we agreed. In the meantime, I'm going to get in a little skiing while the weather is decent and the powder is fresh."

While Nova went off to enjoy the slopes, I headed straight to Mount Palladium and the three-headed bridge leading into the dragon gym. The extraordinary sight of a skeletal dragon of such magnitude was just as awesome as when I first laid eyes on it. I replayed my conversation with Elliott in my head. Odds are the bridge was manufactured by combining the bones of several creatures—possibly even designing synthetic bones made to resemble dragon bones without ever actually coming from a real being. No pokémon in my history books had ever lived to be that big.

But my mind couldn't skip the sheer wonder that came with imagining it was once real. A pokémon of that girth would present any battler with an automatic victory no matter the opponent. Or else it would threaten the lives of the entire region any time it sneezed. Plus, how inconvenient must it be to have three heads? Does that mean three brains, too? I often found myself at odds with my own best interests when making decisions, and I only have one brain. If I had to share my arms and my tail with two other entities who act just like I do, I'd commit a few unprecedented and divinely-inspired pranks before fighting over who gets to feed our shared stomach on a given day.

"Hey, Gus!" shouted a voice traversing the middle neck. It was Mel, the trainer who had tested me on the day of my gym challenge before my battle with Long. He was an older guy in his late twenties. His hair was noticeably thinning since I last saw him, but his heavyset frame had trimmed slightly. The dragon workouts were doing him some good.

"What are you doing back here?" he asked. "Admiring the bridge again, huh?"

"It's still a wonder, even a month later," I said.

He assessed my face and asked me if I was daydreaming again about having three heads and fighting over eating. I assured him that was a totally normal thing to think about when you walk across a bridge made out of giant dragon spines.

Changing the subject, he said, "You know you can only earn a single badge, right? Long has nothing new to give you."

I said, "That may not be the case. I need advice on dealing with a grouchy dragon. Few in the region would be more knowledgeable on such a topic, wouldn't you say?"

"There's no one who knows more about dragons!" he said, his voice brimming with excitement. "You know that wyrmnir of his is no picnic to train. Some pokémon are really resistant to learning new things from humans. Keeper is like that, but Long managed to make it one of the strongest pokémon you've ever seen."

"A reluctant pokémon, you say." The thought sounded too simple to be the solution I needed, but it was something to think about. Maybe a wyrmnir was just a difficult pokémon species to train no matter how emotionally close I was to her as a dragmor. "Do you know which arena Long is training in today?"

Mel contorted his face into an expression either of intense constipation or else of a high level of bewilderment. "I'm not even sure he's still here at this hour. He may have gone home for the day. His daughter has been sick lately, so his hours have been curtailed most days."

I stared for a moment until his face retained its former shape. "So you don't know where he set up training today?"

"He was probably down in the hot arena on the lowest level." Mel looked down the stair-like bridge toward the area we formerly felt heat rise from the volcanic vents. There was a lot less heat down there since Salamorder disappeared, though. Mel's gaze rose to the ground-level bridge and subsequently to the sky arena up top. "He wasn't in the cold arena where I just came from. And usually when he's up top with Keeper we feel tremors all day. I haven't felt anything out of the ordinary."

"You just said tremors would be considered ordinary if he's with his wyrmnir," I said.

"Well, you know what I mean," he said.

Just then we both saw a tall, giant of a man climbing the sloping bridge. His body stretched so much that he took the vertebral stairs two at a time. It was unreal.

"There he is!" I said. The joy in my voice expressed both my desire for Long to stop and speak with me and my ability to recognize objects that are close enough for me to see. The lanky gym leader wore a dark green, polyester jacket with elastic hem and cuffs and a pair of pants made of the same material and fitted for a man one size bigger than he was. Most men who reached his height would fill out the jacket with their proportional circumference, but he was a slender man who literally grew up instead of growing out.

"Still here, Melvin?" asked Long as he neared the top of the bridge. He looked down to me and recognition sparkled in his eye. "And Gus! What a surprise! Why are you back here so soon?" As he spoke, the black hole in the palm of his hand made my arm disappear up to my elbow, only to reappear after a brief shake.

"I'm in need of assistance," I said.

"Oh really? Nothing's wrong, I hope," he said.

"I hope so, too," I agreed. "Do you remember my dragmor Elly?"

"Sure," he said with a nod.

"Good news is: She evolved. She's a wyrmnir now, complete with red scales, scary mandibles, and all."

He beamed. "Congratulations! I knew you would train her well. You're well on your way to being a pokémon champion." He wasn't directly patronizing me like the logical part of my brain suspected at first. He was just encouraging me. There was still a lot of training to complete before I could match Champ Nelson in a battle—or even Long when he goes all-out—but he wanted me to believe I was almost there because it was that thought that kept trainers even younger pushing themselves to be stronger.

"I appreciate that, but I'm having a little trouble with her."

Long hunched over just enough that he was almost down to the level of my face. Bending like that gave his right shoulder a hump.

"Did she stop listening to your commands?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Kind of. I mean, I don't know if she wasn't listening or if she just got focused on what she was doing… which was ignoring me."

"Did she attack you?"

"No!" I thought back to that battle with the lombres. After she made a snack out of them, she did pounce in my direction. I rolled out of the way easily enough, so maybe she wasn't eagerly trying to hurt me. But still, she came close. "Actually… Maybe? She missed."

"I see," said Long. "So she attacked in your direction but gave you ample time to get away? That means she doesn't want to hurt you. But fighting back at all means she was frustrated and lacked respect for you."

"She lacked respect?"

"I believe so. How long before that event did she evolve?" he asked.

"A day," I answered.

His nods deepened. "Yep. That's what happened. You see, sometimes pokémon outgrow their trainers. Or at least, they think they do. Dragons in particular make it difficult to maintain command. The roots of their power go far beyond our human ancestors. Few other species of pokémon can match them overall for strength, grace, and cunning combined. As such, they get selfish and vain."

"But Elly was such a happy dragmor."

"Personalities change as pokémon grow just as they do in people. A youthful dragmor may be happy and carefree while she is removed from battle, and yet she will grow to become ardent and steadfast as she is trained to withstand the grit and grime brought in the arena. Such alteration in personality is especially likely in evolved pokémon. They literally transform into a brand new pokémon, allowing a much greater swing in how their personality manifests as behavior."

"Then you're saying," I interpreted, "that Elly started out like a steel-skinned puppy because she avoided fighting, and then she grew more vicious because I trained her to deal with the pain and to appreciate the challenge?"

"That is a partial explanation, yes," Long said. "The rest goes back to nature. How she acts now is partly governed by her instincts as a wyrmnir."

I paused. All of what he said made sense and I understood the main points, but I couldn't draw from it the knowledge I needed to answer the really important question. "So what do I do? How do I make sure she's not going to make an appetizer out of me the next time I try to summon her for a little exercise?"

"Earn back her respect," he said. "Tell me; what did you do when she attacked you? Did you run away and withdraw her into her pokéball?"

"I couldn't. She basically protected the pokéball so I couldn't get to it." Using what he described, that moment brought to mind the fact that she never did break the pokéball. Had she done that at any time, she would have freed herself from captivity if that were her real goal. "Since that wasn't an option, I brought out my immolion and my golfoam to battle her into submission."

Long beamed at me again. His grin was so wide I could see every Scrabble tile-sized tooth in his mouth. "Good choice. I take it they were able to follow your commands and subdue her in her rampage?"

"Of course."

"Then I suspect you may no longer have to worry about your fresh wyrmnir giving you attitude." Long added, "You have already reminded her that you are the one in charge."

His attention fell to the watch on his wrist. "I am sorry, Gus, but I must hurry home. My family needs my attention tonight. I hope that helps you with your problem."

"Wait!" I protested. I felt abandoned in the moment. "I need you to help me train her some more. You know, to be sure she's going to continue listening."

"I'm sure she already will. You may use the arena here to summon her if you want an area no one will be hurt. But I will come back tomorrow if you desperately want my help. Come in after breakfast and I will put together a short, special training session just for you two. Good night, Gus." With that, he headed back into the heart of Argentum City and left me alone in the snow. I didn't pay attention until that moment, but Mel was long gone, too.

I held Elly's pokéball in the palm of my hand—watching, wondering, waiting…

"Here's goes nothing." I pressed the release switch and watched the electromagnetic energy take shape.


I hope you all had a wonderful weekend and that a new chapter of this fabulous story will give you a reason to dread Monday a little less.
I never realized before I started writing this story how difficult it is to give adequate focus to a wide array of pokémon. They're like additional characters that are easy to remove from the scene if they get too unruly. This project definitely gives me respect for the anime writers for all they do.

As before, Psychotic Ralts has my thanks for contributing Nova to the story.

Trivia: I have decided to balance the workload of my three big writing projects by alternating weeks. That means I am hopeful you will be able to see an update on this story every third week. (If anyone here reads my Yu-Gi-Oh! work, you will see the same pattern for that one, but on different weeks.) Fingers crossed I can keep to the schedule!