A full moon came out of a dense cloud cover and it gave Indigo city a slight bit of lighting. Together, with the many other stars that were visible, it gave the night a unique beauty. Only far away from the massive cities, only within the Indigo Plateau could one see so many stars. This type of beauty is, however, hard to appreciate for people whose very lives hang in the balance of what will happen in the morning. Indigo City is mainly composed of trainer quarters. During this special time of year, trainers of all ages are still awake and nervous about the coming battles in the morning. A good majority of them are unsure of what to do with themselves if they lose. Sadly, a good half of them will have to find out in a few hours.
In the C building, in room eighteen, an interesting two people were paired together. The league had set up each room with a bunk bed, its own bathroom and a few cabinets. It wasn't quite the roomiest of accommodations, but it was nonetheless sufficient.
"Conrad, are you awake?" asked Marlow. Marlow, atop the bunk bed was a teenager of about seventeen years. He had dark brown hair and a very thin face. His eyes were a deep green. His gaze gave the impression that there was someone very old behind his young face.
"I am now. What's bothering you?" returned Conrad from the bottom bunk. Conrad was a middleiaged man with hair just a shade lighter than Marlow's. Conrad's eyes were a deep grey, which, coupled with the right expression, could make his face a very penetrating sight to behold. It also made his smile seem a lot more warm and amiable. Odd as it may appear, Conrad and Marlow were, in fact, fairly decent friends, occasionally they even enjoyed each other's company.
"I'm thinking about tomorrow," said Marlow.
"I know. You're just really nervous about whether or not you'll win and you're wondering if everything will go okay during these league matches," said Conrad.
"Well yeah, I guess I'm kind of a bit nervous about that, but that's not quite what's bugging me," Marlow said in a slightly less positive tone.
"Well what is it then?" asked Conrad, now quite interested to know what else anyone could be thinking about.
"I've been thinking about this competition. I know I have the potential to win and everything and I hope everything works out okay. But then, I'm thinking, even if I win every single match tomorrow and every other match in all of this competition, does it really matter?" said Marlow contemplatively.
"Well of course it.." put in Conrad.
"No, not that it doesn't matter. But I mean this whole thing about being league champ and ranked in the top whatever among whatever the number ends up being. Does it really mean that much? I mean, I never really can know who exactly is out there. This kind of competition sort of assumes that they have the best trainers in here to begin with. I could win and then cleaned by someone who hasn't yet bothered with all of this league business. And then, even if I really was going against the best, I might win just because luck was in my favor for a particular battle. Maybe the trainer I go up against might be having an off day and I come away feeling good when that person could have beat me otherwise?" said Marlow meditatively.
"Marlow, don't think about it. Just try your best and you'll have no regrets. You worry about these things too much. If you do well enough in league, new opportunities will open up as a trainer. Just win. That's really all that matters. You think too much," Replied Conrad.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Marlow. He was not completely comforted, but it would have to do. Those thoughts didn't really matter at this point. Perhaps Conrad was right. He needed to win. Thoughts like these don't really matter. Do they?
"Get some sleep Marlow. You'll do fine in the morning," said Conrad, breaking Marlow's train of thought.
"Good night," was the best reply Marlow could manage.
Ê
The next morning, Conrad found himself in a league arena, staring down a teenage boy whose age was not too far off from Marlow's. The lad was incredibly nervous, and Marlow's ability to keep a straight face seemed to terrify him.
"This league preliminary match will begin now. This is a first round league preliminary match. It will be a three on three battle with no time limit. From Cherrygrove City and on the blue side is Conrad and he will be facing Jacob from New Bark Town on the red side," voiced a loudspeaker.
"Good luck to you," said Jacob.
"The same to you," replied Conrad. Conrad never liked to say good luck to anyone, good luck always sounds terrible, when you think about it.
"Trainers, begin!"
"Go, quilava!" exclaimed Jacob.
"Let's have some fun granbull," said Conrad.
"Use flame wheel quilava," said Jacob.
"Bite the bullet granbull and use mud slap," put in Conrad.
Quilava's back burst into flames and it spewed fire upward, heading towards granbull. Granbull ignored the attack and began to bury itself in the ground. By the time the fire came down, granbull had sunk its paws deep into the ground. The bulldog braced itself slightly as it endured the flame wheel and after it regained its composure it flung a massive mound of earth in quilava's direction. The dirt phased quilava's fire slightly, but the damage dealt to quilava's vision was of greater consequence.
"Quilava, give it another flamewheel!" shouted Jacob.
"Granbull, fling up some more mud," said Conrad.
Once again quilava launched another flamewheel while granbull kept burrowing deeper into the ground. Granbull struggled a bit as it took another fire attack, but it regained its composure and kicked up an even more massive hunk of dirt and mud. Quilava let out a cry as its vision became increasingly worse.
"Quilava, just keep using flamewheel, it can't keep this up for long!" said Jacob excitedly.
"Granbull, begin the double team," Conrad said confidently.
Quilava became increasingly frantic as its vision became more blurred. Now its overgrown bulldog adversary was not such an easy target for its fire. It unleashed another swirl of fire but it missed its target. Granbull's already blurry image seemed to be dividing into two. Quilava tried to focus on just one image, but it proved too difficult and it settled for another flame wheel in the general direction. The two images became three. More fire went into the air. The three images became four.
"Granbull, return," said Conrad.
Four images of a huge bulldog now began charging up to quilava. As they drew nearer the images seemed to finally come together, to settle into one. The single image rammed quilava, hard. The fire pokemon fell backwards and rolled over a couple of times before it managed to get back up on its feet.
"Hang in there quilava, use your best flame wheel, you can do it."
"One more return."
The fiery pokemon managed to launch one more volley of flames before it was bashed into unconsciousness by granbull.
"Quilava is unable to battle. Granbull wins and Conrad now leads 3-2," voiced the loudspeaker.
"Go girafarig, nail it with a psybeam!" said Jacob Excitedly.
"Granbull, give it another return," Conrad said calmly.
A beam of psychic energy was sent pulsing towards granbull, or at least what seemed to be granbull, but the beam missed its mark and it gradually faded off in the distance. Granbull lumbered up and crashed its body against the hapless giraffe, nearly knocking it off its feet.
"Girafarig, try confusion," Jacob said worriedly.
"Granbull, again."
Jacob was hoping that the more general area of effect that confusion had would be enough to hit granbull. He smiled as he saw the big dog's mad rush slowed by the sudden psychic energy. The smile faded as granbull stubbornly continued its charge and rammed girafarig, this time knocking it flat. Girafarig's legs wobbled as it tried to bring itself to stand again, but it seemed to realize what would happen if it did stand and it calmly gave up.
"Girafarig is unable to battle. Granbull wins and Conrad now leads 3-1," said the loudspeaker.
Sweat began to drip from Jacob's face. Jacob couldn't understand it. He was definitely one of Professor Elm's top trainers and he'd worked fairly hard to win all eight of his badges. He certainly didn't deserve to be humiliated like this, did he? Jacob looked back on his battling style and realized it was primarily offensive. This guy seemed to blend offense and defense in a way that was powerful. As he wiped his brow he shot a look at Conrad. This Conrad guy, how could he be so calm? Jacob knew that he only had one shot to win. He kept his last pokemon to deal with these kinds of round about strategies.
"Go mantine, haze all our troubles away" said Jacob with a renewed sense of hope.
"Finish him," Conrad said calmly.
A huge coal colored cloud filled the arena and at last, all of the images of granbull began to reassemble into one. The hound was weak and now without its illusory protection. The surprising part was that neither Conrad nor granbull seemed to care. Jacob shot a glance at Conrad and all he saw was a grin.
"Granbull, hyper beam."
A giant beam of great destructive power was launched right at mantine. Mantine cringed as it sustained a direct hit and it flailed violently to keep itself in the air. As the beam subsided mantine's flailing stopped and it fainted just as it hit the ground.
"Mantine is unable to battle. This match goes to the blue side of Conrad," said the loudspeaker.
The two left their respective sides and met at the center of the arena to shake hands. They mechanically complemented each other and made their way to the exit hallways on different sides of the arena. As Conrad made his exit he contemplated his fallen adversary. He was just one of the many youth attached to the hollow dream of becoming a pokemon master. If that one were to quit, there would be ten more to replace him. Each one of them just wants to assert themselves by becoming so called masters. Sure, some of them were exceptionally skilled, but Conrad did not particularly care.
"They don't want to change things or make a difference," Conrad said aloud to himself, "All they want is to have their own precious little title. Kids can't understand my desire to influence. I wonder how long it will be before one of them beats me."
Conrad could see a figure approaching further down the exit tunnel. As the figure came into the light it showed itself to be Marlow. Conrad wasn't the only one with something on his mind. Marlow wore a sober look on his face and greeted his elder friend with a simple nod.
"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" asked Conrad playfully.
"I saw the battle," replied Marlow tersely.
"And?"
"You deliberately gambled that your first round opponent would be inexperienced by using risky accuracy strategies you wouldn't normally try just so you could speed up the battle and make your opponent's defeat that much more crushing," put in Marlow.
"And?"
"And...I really am just glad you came out on top. But I still wish you would do your best when you battle and take it more seriously, even if you are battling someone much less skilled," said Marlow.
"I'm just having a little fun. Part of all this is fun you yourself questioned the validity of this entire tournament," returned Conrad.
"That may be true, but I still think there is something about battling that goes beyond just messing around. Call it chivalry or do or something like that, but there is something beyond all of this," said Marlow.
"My dear young friend, now is not the ideal time to be preoccupied with such things. It will simply end up distracting you from doing well. Now run along to your battle. I'll be watching you from the stands."
Marlow would've contended further, but Conrad's genuine concern for his success in the match pacified him. Their friendship had often been preserved by their ability to accept differences of opinion. They had a mutual respect through that. Marlow dropped the thought and began to focus on his next match.
In the C building, in room eighteen, an interesting two people were paired together. The league had set up each room with a bunk bed, its own bathroom and a few cabinets. It wasn't quite the roomiest of accommodations, but it was nonetheless sufficient.
"Conrad, are you awake?" asked Marlow. Marlow, atop the bunk bed was a teenager of about seventeen years. He had dark brown hair and a very thin face. His eyes were a deep green. His gaze gave the impression that there was someone very old behind his young face.
"I am now. What's bothering you?" returned Conrad from the bottom bunk. Conrad was a middleiaged man with hair just a shade lighter than Marlow's. Conrad's eyes were a deep grey, which, coupled with the right expression, could make his face a very penetrating sight to behold. It also made his smile seem a lot more warm and amiable. Odd as it may appear, Conrad and Marlow were, in fact, fairly decent friends, occasionally they even enjoyed each other's company.
"I'm thinking about tomorrow," said Marlow.
"I know. You're just really nervous about whether or not you'll win and you're wondering if everything will go okay during these league matches," said Conrad.
"Well yeah, I guess I'm kind of a bit nervous about that, but that's not quite what's bugging me," Marlow said in a slightly less positive tone.
"Well what is it then?" asked Conrad, now quite interested to know what else anyone could be thinking about.
"I've been thinking about this competition. I know I have the potential to win and everything and I hope everything works out okay. But then, I'm thinking, even if I win every single match tomorrow and every other match in all of this competition, does it really matter?" said Marlow contemplatively.
"Well of course it.." put in Conrad.
"No, not that it doesn't matter. But I mean this whole thing about being league champ and ranked in the top whatever among whatever the number ends up being. Does it really mean that much? I mean, I never really can know who exactly is out there. This kind of competition sort of assumes that they have the best trainers in here to begin with. I could win and then cleaned by someone who hasn't yet bothered with all of this league business. And then, even if I really was going against the best, I might win just because luck was in my favor for a particular battle. Maybe the trainer I go up against might be having an off day and I come away feeling good when that person could have beat me otherwise?" said Marlow meditatively.
"Marlow, don't think about it. Just try your best and you'll have no regrets. You worry about these things too much. If you do well enough in league, new opportunities will open up as a trainer. Just win. That's really all that matters. You think too much," Replied Conrad.
"Yeah, I guess you're right," said Marlow. He was not completely comforted, but it would have to do. Those thoughts didn't really matter at this point. Perhaps Conrad was right. He needed to win. Thoughts like these don't really matter. Do they?
"Get some sleep Marlow. You'll do fine in the morning," said Conrad, breaking Marlow's train of thought.
"Good night," was the best reply Marlow could manage.
Ê
The next morning, Conrad found himself in a league arena, staring down a teenage boy whose age was not too far off from Marlow's. The lad was incredibly nervous, and Marlow's ability to keep a straight face seemed to terrify him.
"This league preliminary match will begin now. This is a first round league preliminary match. It will be a three on three battle with no time limit. From Cherrygrove City and on the blue side is Conrad and he will be facing Jacob from New Bark Town on the red side," voiced a loudspeaker.
"Good luck to you," said Jacob.
"The same to you," replied Conrad. Conrad never liked to say good luck to anyone, good luck always sounds terrible, when you think about it.
"Trainers, begin!"
"Go, quilava!" exclaimed Jacob.
"Let's have some fun granbull," said Conrad.
"Use flame wheel quilava," said Jacob.
"Bite the bullet granbull and use mud slap," put in Conrad.
Quilava's back burst into flames and it spewed fire upward, heading towards granbull. Granbull ignored the attack and began to bury itself in the ground. By the time the fire came down, granbull had sunk its paws deep into the ground. The bulldog braced itself slightly as it endured the flame wheel and after it regained its composure it flung a massive mound of earth in quilava's direction. The dirt phased quilava's fire slightly, but the damage dealt to quilava's vision was of greater consequence.
"Quilava, give it another flamewheel!" shouted Jacob.
"Granbull, fling up some more mud," said Conrad.
Once again quilava launched another flamewheel while granbull kept burrowing deeper into the ground. Granbull struggled a bit as it took another fire attack, but it regained its composure and kicked up an even more massive hunk of dirt and mud. Quilava let out a cry as its vision became increasingly worse.
"Quilava, just keep using flamewheel, it can't keep this up for long!" said Jacob excitedly.
"Granbull, begin the double team," Conrad said confidently.
Quilava became increasingly frantic as its vision became more blurred. Now its overgrown bulldog adversary was not such an easy target for its fire. It unleashed another swirl of fire but it missed its target. Granbull's already blurry image seemed to be dividing into two. Quilava tried to focus on just one image, but it proved too difficult and it settled for another flame wheel in the general direction. The two images became three. More fire went into the air. The three images became four.
"Granbull, return," said Conrad.
Four images of a huge bulldog now began charging up to quilava. As they drew nearer the images seemed to finally come together, to settle into one. The single image rammed quilava, hard. The fire pokemon fell backwards and rolled over a couple of times before it managed to get back up on its feet.
"Hang in there quilava, use your best flame wheel, you can do it."
"One more return."
The fiery pokemon managed to launch one more volley of flames before it was bashed into unconsciousness by granbull.
"Quilava is unable to battle. Granbull wins and Conrad now leads 3-2," voiced the loudspeaker.
"Go girafarig, nail it with a psybeam!" said Jacob Excitedly.
"Granbull, give it another return," Conrad said calmly.
A beam of psychic energy was sent pulsing towards granbull, or at least what seemed to be granbull, but the beam missed its mark and it gradually faded off in the distance. Granbull lumbered up and crashed its body against the hapless giraffe, nearly knocking it off its feet.
"Girafarig, try confusion," Jacob said worriedly.
"Granbull, again."
Jacob was hoping that the more general area of effect that confusion had would be enough to hit granbull. He smiled as he saw the big dog's mad rush slowed by the sudden psychic energy. The smile faded as granbull stubbornly continued its charge and rammed girafarig, this time knocking it flat. Girafarig's legs wobbled as it tried to bring itself to stand again, but it seemed to realize what would happen if it did stand and it calmly gave up.
"Girafarig is unable to battle. Granbull wins and Conrad now leads 3-1," said the loudspeaker.
Sweat began to drip from Jacob's face. Jacob couldn't understand it. He was definitely one of Professor Elm's top trainers and he'd worked fairly hard to win all eight of his badges. He certainly didn't deserve to be humiliated like this, did he? Jacob looked back on his battling style and realized it was primarily offensive. This guy seemed to blend offense and defense in a way that was powerful. As he wiped his brow he shot a look at Conrad. This Conrad guy, how could he be so calm? Jacob knew that he only had one shot to win. He kept his last pokemon to deal with these kinds of round about strategies.
"Go mantine, haze all our troubles away" said Jacob with a renewed sense of hope.
"Finish him," Conrad said calmly.
A huge coal colored cloud filled the arena and at last, all of the images of granbull began to reassemble into one. The hound was weak and now without its illusory protection. The surprising part was that neither Conrad nor granbull seemed to care. Jacob shot a glance at Conrad and all he saw was a grin.
"Granbull, hyper beam."
A giant beam of great destructive power was launched right at mantine. Mantine cringed as it sustained a direct hit and it flailed violently to keep itself in the air. As the beam subsided mantine's flailing stopped and it fainted just as it hit the ground.
"Mantine is unable to battle. This match goes to the blue side of Conrad," said the loudspeaker.
The two left their respective sides and met at the center of the arena to shake hands. They mechanically complemented each other and made their way to the exit hallways on different sides of the arena. As Conrad made his exit he contemplated his fallen adversary. He was just one of the many youth attached to the hollow dream of becoming a pokemon master. If that one were to quit, there would be ten more to replace him. Each one of them just wants to assert themselves by becoming so called masters. Sure, some of them were exceptionally skilled, but Conrad did not particularly care.
"They don't want to change things or make a difference," Conrad said aloud to himself, "All they want is to have their own precious little title. Kids can't understand my desire to influence. I wonder how long it will be before one of them beats me."
Conrad could see a figure approaching further down the exit tunnel. As the figure came into the light it showed itself to be Marlow. Conrad wasn't the only one with something on his mind. Marlow wore a sober look on his face and greeted his elder friend with a simple nod.
"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" asked Conrad playfully.
"I saw the battle," replied Marlow tersely.
"And?"
"You deliberately gambled that your first round opponent would be inexperienced by using risky accuracy strategies you wouldn't normally try just so you could speed up the battle and make your opponent's defeat that much more crushing," put in Marlow.
"And?"
"And...I really am just glad you came out on top. But I still wish you would do your best when you battle and take it more seriously, even if you are battling someone much less skilled," said Marlow.
"I'm just having a little fun. Part of all this is fun you yourself questioned the validity of this entire tournament," returned Conrad.
"That may be true, but I still think there is something about battling that goes beyond just messing around. Call it chivalry or do or something like that, but there is something beyond all of this," said Marlow.
"My dear young friend, now is not the ideal time to be preoccupied with such things. It will simply end up distracting you from doing well. Now run along to your battle. I'll be watching you from the stands."
Marlow would've contended further, but Conrad's genuine concern for his success in the match pacified him. Their friendship had often been preserved by their ability to accept differences of opinion. They had a mutual respect through that. Marlow dropped the thought and began to focus on his next match.