POKÉMON: INFINITE LEGACIES
THE CIPRYS REGION
CHAPTER 7
HEALING IN CIPRYS!

"No—please! Don't do it!"

Flame was back in the alleyway, his sister unconscious on the ground as he faced the Shadow—alone.

The Shadow stared back at him. "You're not worthy," he hissed simply.

"You're not worthy . . ."

"You're not worthy . . ."

"You're not worthy . . ." echoed back at Flame as though others, hidden in the darkness, were repeating.

Flame was powerless. Psychic gripped his body—he couldn't move. His mind was still active, but its only use was to torture him with dark thoughts. He watched, unable to act, and reminded that he was just a 13-year-old kid as the Shadow commanded Honchkrow to do the unspeakable.

Cracks appeared on, and ruptured the surfaces of, his two Poké Balls. He wanted to shout something . . . anything . . . but couldn't find the words. And then it happened: Both Poké Balls erupted under the pressure of Honchkrow's Psychic, shattering into hundreds of shards. A thin cloud of energy remained, but this residue quickly faded to nothingness. Flame could see no trace of the Pokémon that had been within—all that remained were the mess of shards that littered the ground like trash.

It dawned on Flame that he would never see his Pokémon again. Darkness suffocated his vision and grief, his mind. I've failed them, he realised. Tears rushed down his cheeks; he dropped to his knees. His mouth moved now, but only to utter a scream.

He woke with a start, his gaze dashing around himself. Thin sheets were tucked between his legs and his head rested sideways against a single pillow, his dark hair all over the place. He felt neither warm nor cold. His clothes from the night before were strewn across the carpet—by the time he'd got back from the hospital, he'd been too exhausted to do anything but rip his clothes off and crash onto his bed.

Flame realised he must have fallen to sleep as soon as he'd shut his eyes. He sat up and flipped his bedside lamp on. I didn't think I'd be waking up here again so soon, he thought. He eyed the many Pokémon posters around the room as his vision adjusted to the half-light. But he couldn't escape the afterimages of his nightmare, his sense of failure, of worry. He shivered.

Fear widened his eyes. Where are they?! he wondered suddenly. His gaze darted wildly around the room. He found his two Poké Balls near where he'd left them: not far from the pockets of his black capri shorts. He felt bad for just leaving them on the floor beside his dirty clothes.

He kicked the bedsheets away and stumbled to his feet, groggy. Orange, pink, and blue pieces of tape were visible across his body, plastered against his muscles. He picked both Poké Balls up and placed them on a chair, which he turned and wheeled towards his bed. He fell back down and drew the bedsheets up again with his feet. He stared at the Poké Balls, picturing his two Pokémon inside. This thought calmed him, but only slightly.

Flame lay down, preferring to leave the light on. He closed his eyes and was left with his thoughts. He was starting to understand why Kaitlyn had been so unrecognisable.

Flame stood outside his sister's hospital room. He'd tried but hadn't been able to fall back to sleep. In the end, he'd given up and switched on his TV, watching reruns of previous Ciprys Leagues. When he finally decided to stop watching and get out of bed, he'd eaten (not much) and showered and then changed into nicer jeans and a smarter top, but his trainers looked a little out of place and his hair was as messy as ever.

His body ached, both from lack of sleep and from the aftereffects of Honchkrow's Psychic on his body, and his movements were sluggish. After Alyssa had hurried Helia to the hospital, she'd insisted that he and Frost were checked by a doctor—in case of any lasting damage. "I want you both at 100% for our battle," she'd argued, and she hadn't taken no for an answer (nor could you easily refuse a gym leader).

Whilst Frost had suffered little, Flame was prescribed painkillers to ease the aftereffect of Psychic on his body. As a precaution, his major muscles were taped up with special athletic tape. "Pokémon have evolved to a point where they can endure this intake of energy," the doctor treating him had told him, "but humans haven't. Our muscles, our bones, you name it, are a lot more brittle."

When he'd gotten home, it'd been past midnight. His grandfather checked he was okay as soon as he walked through the doorway. Once Flame had sleepily mumbled, "Uh-huh," and then a "Yes, Grampa—I'm fine," he'd staggered up the stairs while his grandfather had raced off to the hospital for Helia. He'd now been awake ever since his nightmare had woken him in the early hours. Tiredness clawed at him; his eyes felt heavy, but he didn't dare close them, fearing what might come. He sipped at his fizzy drink, orange-flavoured with a Charmander on the can.

And sipped again. He hovered where he was for longer than he should have. Regret haunted him: She's your sister! You should have done more to protect her; you should have got her to the hospital sooner; you should have been stronger. She'd been in danger, and so had his Pokémon, but his actions hadn't changed anything. He hadn't opened either Poké Ball since the battle, and only had his Luxury Ball with him now.

Flame breathed in, then out. In, then out. And then he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was square-shaped and rather bland-looking, which was no surprise, but someone had kindly left flowers in a vase and some fragrances on one of the bedside tables. Helia was in bed, in a hospital gown and her dark brown hair running freely down her neck. Their grandfather sat in a chair near her bedside.

They broke off their conversation, and Helia looked to Flame, smiling. "Hey, Flame."

His throat felt tight. "How are you feeling?" he managed to say, but only quietly.

"I fainted," Helia rasped. "Because of the shock. They want to keep me in for another day. I'd much rather be back home, though."

Flame eyed her, unsure what to think. Despite her physical ailments, her usual enthusiasm was still noticeable in her voice. Mentally, she seemed unaffected by the ordeal. Resentment burst up from within him. If she hadn't stolen my license, none of this would have happened. I'd be out of here already!

Perhaps Helia noticed this, for she grew quiet, a rarity for her.

And Flame stood awkwardly, hands in pockets. He didn't know what to say.

Their grandfather looked at them both in turn. "I'll let you two sort this out alone," he murmured, standing. "I think it's better that way."

Neither Flame nor Helia objected, but when the old man shuffled past his grandson, Flame took his Luxury Ball out from his pocket. "I think you might have made a mistake," he said suddenly. "I don't think I deserve her . . . or even Litten. Litten got badly hurt, and had no chance of winning." Alyssa had taken their Pokémon to be healed while they'd been examined. "If Frost and Alyssa hadn't showed up, I don't know what would've happened. I'm their trainer. I'm responsible. It's my fault." He looked down at his trainers, unable to meet his grandpa's eyes, but holding out the Luxury Ball still.

"Flame," he responded slowly. "I understand why you feel like you do, but . . . well, I won't say anymore apart from why don't you listen to what your sister has to say first?"

Flame wasn't sure what to say.

"Okay?"

"Okay," Flame managed. He returned the Luxury Ball to his pocket—for now.

Their grandfather left the room.

And silence entered in his place.

Helia searched her brother's gaze, but he couldn't meet it.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I wasn't thinking. I . . ."

Flame looked now and saw his shaken confidence reflected in her expression. "Go on," he said softly, sitting down in the now-vacant chair. His throat felt looser than before.

"I was thinking of Mum and Dad."

"Helia," he started, "you know that's complicated."

"But I was. And I was thinking of Grandpa too. I was thinking of what might happen to you out there. That's why I took your license. I knew that, if you didn't have it, you at least wouldn't be able to leave for a while. You'd be safe."

Flame didn't know what to say.

"But . . . I've realised I was wrong. I was too busy thinking of the past. Alyssa told me what you and Frost said after the battle and what happened. I didn't realise you were so strong! Even though you lost, and you were trapped by Mean Look, you still fought on. I'm sorry I put you in that situation—you must have been scared."

"Me?" Flame grinned slightly. "I'm your big brother—I never get scared!"

Helia giggled. "I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah, me too."

"And . . ." Helia admitted, "I thought you didn't care about them."

"Who?"

"Mum and Dad."

"Of course, I care! How could I not?"

"But . . . you never talk about them. Grandpa barely does either. Sometimes I feel like you've both forgotten about them."

Flame thought for a long moment before he admitted, "It's easier not to, I guess, and being at the Academy kept me super busy. I didn't have time to think about them as much as I did before."

Helia brought her knees up to her chest. "It's just . . . I know you two have all these memories of them, and I . . . have to look at a photo to remember what they look like." She sighed. "I wish I was older."

Flame giggled suddenly.

"What?"

"Oh. Do you remember the holiday to Kalos?"

Helia smiled. "Kind of."

"You went too far out, and Mum had to bring out her Samurott to stop that swarm of Tentacool. Your face was priceless."

Helia saw the funny side. "You would've been terrified too had a swarm of Tentacool surrounded you!"

"I was terrified against the Shadow," Flame admitted, "more for your sake and my Pokémon's than my own."

"Is that what it's like there?"

"You mean at the Academy?"

Helia nodded.

Flame smiled. "Well, you find out about so many different kinds of Pokémon. It's amazing. You learn some really are capable of the spectacular and, naturally, you appreciate them more than before. Well, I certainly do."

Helia's eyes brightened. "It does sound like fun."

"The schedule and work are tough, but it definitely was. I miss it in a way, but I can't wait to get out there and explore. By the way, do you still have my license?"

"About that . . . I think when I blacked out, I dropped it and it must still be lost somewhere in that alley."

"No worries," Flame said, no longer feeling any negativity toward his sister. "It doesn't matter. As long as you're safe, I can wait a little while to leave after the match with Alyssa."

"You shouldn't have to, though."

"I don't mind."

"Well, it's your choice . . ."

"What do you mean 'choice'?"

"Alyssa visited me this morning. I felt guilty. So, I told her what happened and I asked her if she could get you another trainer's license." She paused for effect.

"And?" he asked eagerly.

"Ta-da!" She raised her bedsheets and theatrically revealed a trainer's license with his face on that had been hidden in her lap. "Here you go, my dear brother."

"Wow, thanks, sis!" Flame said, awed. "From a gym leader, that's really cool."

"It's the least I could do. Now, get outta here and start training! I'll be watching the battle, and if you don't do me and Grandpa proud, I might . . . just might feel the urge to steal that license back off you again!"

Flame grinned. "Well, in the end, even with everything that happened, I'm sort of glad you did."

Two days to go.

Litten was practicing Ember while Flame was running laps.

"One more!" Flame shouted between deep breaths.

It was a hot day; heat sucked at his skin, and sweat dripped from his body. Topless, he wore white shorts with the Pokémon Academy's crest on, his running shoes, and a plain black headband that just about kept his hair in place.

Litten inhaled and then exhaled, creating his biggest fireball yet. Flame felt the change in air temperature as he finished his lap, coming to a stop.

Flame collapsed onto a nearby bench, panting for air. He patted his orange training top against his face and chest and then grabbed his bottle. He slurped the water like it was the last on Ciprys. Litten did the same, heading to an adjustable water fountain specifically designed for any Pokémon, and let the current pour into his mouth and all across his muzzle. He purred.

While they recovered, Flame unzipped his backpack and checked his phone. [So, what's our strategy against Alyssa?] was his earlier message. He thought it'd been worth a try.

Flame didn't know whether to laugh or be annoyed when he saw Frost's response: [YOU and Litten stay out of mine and Mudkip's way. Problem solved].

"Whatever," he muttered, deciding it wasn't worth replying. "At least I tried. It'll make things harder, but we'll have to come up with our own strategy, won't we, Litten?"

"Litten," Litten mrrowed happily.

Flame got out his Poké Dex. "Tropius," he said, still a little out of breath.

"Tropius, the Fruit Pokémon. The fruits that grow around their necks are said to be so delicious that some, as well as preventing hunger, are capable of healing Tropius. With a flap of their large leafy wings, Tropius can take to the skies."

"Oh, boy. This ain't gonna be easy."

Litten unsheathed his claws and growled, as if to tell Flame, Don't count me out yet, silly human!

Someone was approaching, Flame noticed in the corner of his vision. He didn't pay them much attention until they called out to him, "Hello, Flame."

Flame whisked his sweat-covered top back on. "Professor!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Professor Aconite chuckled as she came to a stop in front of him. "I see the Academy's fitness regime has rubbed off on you."

Flame grinned. "Yeah, I suppose it has."

"So, I can't stay for long, but I heard about your battle with Alyssa. It's big news and an honour for you, actually. Gym leaders aren't known to be the ones offering challenges. Alyssa must have seen something special in you and Frost."

Flame shrugged. "Right place, right time, I guess."

He could tell Aconite didn't quite agree with his assessment, but she didn't say anymore on that matter. "I brought something to help. Here." She handed him an orange disc.

Flame took it with both hands and beamed. "A TM—woah! Thanks, Professor!"

"The move will take time to perfect, but I had it spare and it should help you out against Alyssa. I've given Frost's his already." She checked her watch. "You should just about have enough time if you keep training hard."

Litten mrrowed confidently.

"Litten says, 'Challenge accepted!' and I do too!"

One day to go.

Author's Notes:
This, and 'The Guardian Angel of Legend!', are my favourite chapters so far. I really enjoyed editing this, and I think this is by far the best we've seen of Flame from a character perspective. Writing his range of emotions after that long exhausting night was fun.

I'm really happy with the first scene (especially as I think it's a great precursor to the second). In my edit, I added a lot of description to this scene. I like it personally as the description shows off Flame's age/teenage untidiness more and generally just shows off more character, in my view. Originally his Poké Balls were already in the chair and not on the floor, but I thought it worked better to emphasise how draining the battle against the Shadow was.

The title of this chapter's a reference to a Pokémon fanfiction I'm reading on this site at the moment called Healing in Hoenn. A really good read, in my opinion. Features a lot of Japanese food and the dialogue's superb. If you're looking for something more to read, I'd highly recommend it.