I don't own Pokémon Diamond or Pearl or Platinum or the series in general. From now on, I'm going to expect that you people know this.
Also, the story's rating is going to start coming through.
Sorën jumped down to the old, rotting dock of Iron Island, feeling the wood creak beneath his feet. There was a thump behind him, and he knew Damien was down as well.
"Hey, boys." Sorën and Damien both turned as the ship's captain leaned out of the wheelhouse. "I actually have to make a run to Eutrea City, so I'll be back to pick you up 'round sundown, okay?"
"Understood, sir, thank you," Sorën replied with a smile. How long until sundown? Three, four hours? Perfect! "We'll be here, waiting!"
The captain nodded, then gunned the motor, and sped away from the island, towards the coast.
Sorën sighed, quivering with excitement, then turned to face the island, Damien stepping up next to him. The island was cone-shaped, a jagged peak of rock that crept into the sky. Boulders marked a set of narrow, crumbling paths that eventually lead to the rounded peak of the mountain. The walkway to the nearest cave was smooth from the iron mining, but above that it was a wild, unmarked world.
"So, that's the island," Sorën muttered, watching it carefully, as though it would spring on him, smother the chance of an adventure. "Look, look at how little soot is around. I think the mine's not operational right now."
"Of course," Damien gasped. "It's May. They'll be taking a spring break, to let the native Pokémon breed and continue to survive. They do that every spring, from March to June. How could we have forgotten?"
"Because we're stupid," Sorën replied. "So that means that explosion was not from a mining collapse or something. And it cut off way too abruptly to be natural. Nobody's supposed to be here, but someone is."
"We aren't either, Sorën," Damien muttered, stepping onto the island proper. "Come on, let's go look around, see what we can, etcetera, find the source of the smoke."
The two boys walked past the mine entrance, ignoring the warm winds and soft howls that emitted from the tear in the earth. The Pokémon that lived in the mines were always active, especially when it was they and they alone. Lucky bastards, Sorën thought. Their path almost instantly became rougher and steeper, carved by Onixes who ventured higher up. Sorën's feet slipped in the moss-laden rock, his fingers curled around the cliff face as he climbed.
"Scheiße!" Sorën swore as one of the rocks gave way, and he slid down fifteen feet, scraping the skin off the soles of his feet and palms. He lashed out with his hand, grabbing a plant growing from beneath a boulder to stop himself from falling to the rocks below. "Damien, this isn't safe! We're going to be killed!"
Damien, who was leading the accent, glanced over his shoulder. "Don't worry, I see a plateau up ahead we can stop on!" he called, waiting for Sorën to reach his position before continuing.
It wasn't long before they had reached the said break in the rock, a shallow slope for about five hundred feet, before the sheer rise to the peak itself. "Lots of fun!" Damien huffed, leaning against a rock for support, massaging a stitch in his side.
Sorën gulped down the salty air, looking around himself. "We'll have to get to the peak to get a full view," he decided, standing still. He wasn't as exhausted as Damien, but the scrapes on his body smarted. "But we're going to find a real way up, instead of the first path we see."
Damien didn't reply, instead watching the skyline. "Sorën!" he said suddenly. "Sorën, get down!" Before the raven-haired boy could object, the blonde lunged, grabbing his shoulder and pulling them both to the ground.
"What are you doing?!" Sorën hissed angrily, but Damien shushed him.
"There's some people coming," Damien breathed, stirring some of the wild grass near his nose. "I saw them."
"What?" Sorën pressed, but the sounds of angry shouts flowed into his ears, and he fell silent.
There were five people at least. Most of them were dressed in silver and pale blue jumpsuits, shimmering under the sun, looking rather overheated in their garb. The most distinguishing feature common to them, though, was that their hair was short and dyed teal. Leading the group was a woman, in a similar costume, but red and silver. Her hair was long and flowing and the color of a sunset, reaching her waist in curls and moving with her frame as her pointed heels jabbed into the rock like daggers.
Team Galactic, Sorën realized. What are they doing here? I thought they were hunting for the Gyarados!
It was clear by their flutters of audible conversation they were not hunting for a Gyarados.
"I can't believe we lost it," snarled one blue-haired male. "We smoked 'em out and everything, but it still disappeared!"
"I know," said another. "It's bigger than the records say, and it still gets away!"
"Shut up!" snapped the red-haired woman. "We've been looking for the Pokémon for ages, and if we don't find it, we'll flush it out again. It can't escape, we've got a barrier up that no Pokémon can get by!"
"The island's deserted, right?" one blue-haired female asked. "So no human could help take it down?"
"Precisely," the red-haired woman replied. "Although, take no chances. If you see anyone, subdue them and bring them to me. This island is off-limits, no matter how important they say they are! If they resist, ask no questions. Just knock them out. And if the situation calls for it, kill them. Now let's move! That Pokémon won't escape again!"
Sorën pressed closer to the ground as the group passed, his heart suddenly pounding in his ears. Kill them. Kill them. That woman was hell-bent on finding this missing Pokémon, and was willing to murder to find it.
Eventually, the group passed, and Sorën exhaled. "Oh Scheiße, dieses IST NICHT gut, Damien!" he whispered.
Damien stared at him. "Sorën, this situation is a little serious for you to be blabbing away in idiot-ish!" he snapped.
"Halt die Schnauze. I said, 'Oh shit, this is NOT good, Damien!'" Sorën growled back. He barely even noticed Damien's eyebrows jump. Sorën rarely swore, unless he was really pissed, or really frightened. The gravity of the situation settled in with the single curse.
"We can't leave!" Damien breathed. "Not until sundown! And now we're on an island with Team Galactic, and if they find us…" He let the thought trail off. "Let's go into the mines, and hang out for the next few hours."
"I think we should find the Pokémon." Sorën's tone was final, and it startled Damien. "I think we should go to the summit of the island, and see if we can find the Pokémon. They don't know the lay of the land or how to climb; we can find the Pokémon before they do. I don't think they should have their hands on a Pokémon they're willing to kill over."
Damien couldn't help be agree with Sorën's argument, but the idea still seemed ludicrous. "What if we get killed, Sorën? What if they kill us?!" he demanded, unable to mask his fear.
"That's why we won't be found," Sorën replied. "We'll have to be smarter than them. It doesn't matter what we do, we have to wait and risk being found. Might as well do something good until then."
The blonde hesitated, then relented. "You're paying my medical bills," Damien muttered, propping himself up on his elbows. There was no one in sight, but that could change very soon. "On the count of three, we'll run for the cliff, and find a way up, 'kay?"
Sorën simply said, "One."
"Two."
"Three!" The boys yelled in unison, jumping to their feet and rushing across the rocky plateau. Sharp bits of stone and mining shrapnel cut into Sorën's feet, and he bit back a string of curses as blood seeped from his raw heels. "I'm bringing shoes next time," he decided under his breath.
In only a few minutes but what felt like a few years, they reached the last stretch of rock, the most untamed of it all. Sorën pressed himself between the rock face and a boulder, lodging himself a couple of inches off the ground so he could examine his shredded foot. "Damn…" he moaned. "This hurts."
"Oh, shut up," Damien said in reply, looking sadly at the bloody messes that were the soles of his feet. "We're almost there, time to put your climbing abilities to the test, Sore-n."
Sorën shot him a dark glare. "I'll shove you off this rock," he threatened emptily, lowering himself tenderly to the ground. He winced as he rested the balls of his feet on the rocks, and then the heels. "Okay," he growled, teeth clenched, "Gimme a moment, I'll find a path up."
Damien leaned back against the rock, crossing his arms tightly over his chest as Sorën slipped out of sight, hunting down a way to the peak of the island. He twisted the fabric of his shirt, his gaze darting across the plane, watching for the flickers of teal or red or silver that would give away the hostile group.
Something tapped Damien's shoulder, and he let out an embarrassingly girly shriek, spinning around with his fists raised. His fear turned to relief as he spotted Sorën, who had crept up from a gap between the rocks, and was now looking almost horrified by his friend's yelp. "Sorry, Sorën, you scared the living shit out of me," Damien panted.
"How do you think I feel?" Sorën demanded in reply, the color gone from his face. "Come on, I found a way up, squeal-a-lot." He ignored as Damien shot him a dirty look, turning around and scampering towards a steep, narrow path up to the summit of the rock. "Alright," Sorën said. "I think this is how this should work. I'll go up and see what there is to see, and you stay down here. If Team Galactic comes, make sure you alert me, because if they trap us, one of us needs to be able to escape and find help."
Damien was secretly relieved that he wouldn't have to make another ascent into the sky. "Not a problem," he replied, with a mock salute. "I'll get you down if there's trouble."
"Don't kill yourself." Sorën's replying comment was intended as a joke, but his smile was hollow, and his eyes strained with worry. "See you in a few minutes." Without another word, Sorën wrapped his fingers around one of the handholds, and began the nearly vertical climb to Iron Island's summit.
*
Mars was not pleased. Not that she ever was, but today was an especially bad day. She'd spent the whole morning and afternoon wandering Iron Island, hunting down the Pokémon that Saturn was seeking. She bit her bright red lip, stained by makeup, and turned to look at her subordinates. "Alright, men, where's the one place we haven't checked."
It was a statement, not a question. "The mainland?" asked one. Mars fumed for a moment, then smacked him across the face.
"No, you idiot! Higher up! Higher up! There's still the peak of the mountain to check, who wants to head up there with a toothbrush and capture the Pokémon single-handedly?"
No takers. "Good. Now come on, you dimwits, we aren't failing Commander Saturn again! Not if we value our lives!"
*
Damien leaned against one of the boulders. Sorën had long disappeared from sight, and now the blonde was alone. He rubbed his arm, chewing the inside of his cheek out of nerves. What if Team Galactic DID come? Did he call to Sorën and run? What if the raven-haired boy didn't hear him? What is he couldn't escape? What if…?
The what ifs ran through his mind without cease, and every question asked made Damien more upset at having been left to fare by himself. "Damn, you, Sorën, I'm going to kick your skinny white ass when I see you again…" He sat down, flopping his head backwards, then cursing violently when the back of his head cracked against the stone.
"God DAMN IT," he spat, rubbing his skull. "I am NEVER coming to Iron Island again!" He let his hand fall to the ground. His finger brushed the air beneath the boulder, and Damien started. That wasn't air. There was something under. A rock? No, too smooth. A ball?
He shifted onto his knees, looking beneath the massive stone. There was indeed something under there, rusted, but distinctly red and white.
"A Pokéball?" Damien murmured, fishing it out from under the rock. He brushed some of the dirt off of the container, examining the old thing. It was definitely not recent, not by the manufacture date engraved into the button on the front. Plus, the colors were worn, and the style was slightly different than modern models. "I wonder…I wonder if there's a real Pokémon inside," Damien muttered aloud. Half of him wanted to open it, and see if there was, but the lurking threat of Team Galactic convinced him to simply pocket it and wait for later.
Not a second too soon, either. "Hey!" The feminine screech cut through Damien's ears like a blade, and he spun, only to see the Team Galactic members heading towards him, lead by the red-haired woman he'd seen from before. Oh shit! Damien thought. Those people! Oh my god, what do I do? Oh, wait, Sorën. "Sorën!" he yelled, turning his gaze up to the island's crest. "Sorën, they're coming!" He didn't know if Sorën had heard him, and he didn't get a chance to think anything else, because the blue-haired henchmen ran at him, and tackled him to the ground.
"There IS someone on the island!" the red-haired woman continued to shriek. "Someone who can help us find the Pokémon! Bring him here quickly, boys, we aren't letting that stupid pile of fur escape us again!"
Damien spat on the ground, struggling fiercely against the grips of the blue-haired Grunts. But he wasn't a match for their superior numbers and strength, and they managed to subdue him by grabbing his left forearm and snapping the bones in half.
His scream was long and unbroken, a wave of agony searing up his frame. His throat was dry, his arm on fire, tears bit at the corners of his eyes…he'd never felt pain like this before. He could hear snapped bones grinding in his arm, feel the stray chunks of calcium pierce his flesh, and blood began to well down his arm, drenching his hand and side in crimson.
"Who the hell are you?" The woman's voice rose over his yell, and it twittered off into a whimper. "I said, who the hell are you, boy?"
"I ain't no one," Damien muttered, teeth clenched. "I'm just a kid, thanks…n-now lemme go!"
"Not a chance." The woman's words were cold and unforgiving. "You're going to help us find the Pokémon we're looking for. It'll surely come out if it sees a little brat in pain. Now, who was this Sorën person you screamed at?"
Damien spent an infuriating moment panicking and trying to decide what to say. Eventually, he snarled, "No one, 's my little brother, instinct, you know? He's back, home, I'm here alone."
The woman snorted. "Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judge." She looked to her followers. "Let's go! We're still going to check the summit! Bring this kid with us, men, we'll find this Pokémon if it's the very last thing we do!"
Oh god…oh god! Sorën, Sorën! Oh, please hide, please don't reveal yourself… Damien thought, as he was dragged painfully up towards the summit. Don't let them get you! Oh god…I am NEVER going to Iron Island again!
*
Despite the pain from his wounds, Sorën found it surprisingly easy to reach the crest of Iron Island. He took a moment to himself, leaning against a rock and regaining his breath. His eyes focused again, his heart stopped pounding, and he looked up.
There was a small gash in the sandstone, right below the very last fifty or so feet of rock to the highest point on the island. Already, Sorën could see for miles, blue in all directions but east, where Sinnoh proper rose from the sea. Mt. Coronet rose into the sky, lost in the clouds that surrounded the massive peak.
Sorën stepped towards the small cave, curious. Was something in there? Maybe a way to the very top of the island? I'll get Damien in a minute, I just want to see this… he told himself, reaching the gap and peering inside.
"Sorën! Sorën, they're coming!"
The voice was faint, but it was clear by the way the call slurred the 'e' in Sorën's name that it was Damien. His heart leapt into his throat, and he turned, in time to hear a blood-curdling scream echo in his ears.
"Damien!" Sorën took three steps, towards the path down to his best friend, but hesitated. What if Team Galactic came up? He was supposed to hide. If they had captured Damien, he had to get off the Island, and get help.
The raven-haired boy turned, and fled into the cave, praying to whatever deity happened to live in the sky that they'd be okay. Inside the cave, a jagged, narrow path spiraled up, climbing the last feet to the very top of the Island. Sorën did not hesitate again as he clambered up, ignoring the burning in his feet and hands as rock dug into flesh.
He heard shouts below him as he reached the top of the rocky column, entering a cavern that probably had not been touched by human hands for generations. It was littered with cobwebs and eggs shells, broken twigs and bones, a great nesting place for birds and Pokémon, by the looks of it.
Sorën wandered into the middle of the room-sized gap in the rock, cracks in the sandstone revealing that he was at last at the very top of Iron Island.
"Wow," he murmured, almost forgetting that there were insane killers on his tail. "This is…just wow. I wish Damien could—"
Oh, right. Damien.
Desperation returned in a tidal wave, and he spun on the spot, looking for a place to hide, panic pounding in his temples. He had effectively run himself into a dead end, and if he couldn't hide, he'd be dead for sure.
Something stirred beneath the thick layer of silky, sticky web, and Sorën turned. A tiny paw, no bigger than the tip of Sorën's thumb, pale pink in color, lifted a curtain of the shimmering white, revealing a small, cat-like face with giant, blue eyes, staring at him in terror.
Sorën could only stare back, as the creature watched him, blue meeting green-yellow, both wide with fear and haunted with knowledge they shouldn't have had.
"W-who are you?" Sorën gasped. The pink cat-thing shrunk back slightly, scared by his voice, unwilling to trust such a young and innocent-looking child. "What are you…?" He watched it for another moment, and then something clicked in his brain. "You…you're a Pokémon. You must be the Pokémon that Team Galactic is hunting for." The thing flinched, and Sorën knew he'd gotten it right. "Listen. I'm not going to tell them you're here. I promise. I'm trying to hide, so I can get help. My friend's in trouble, and…"
"Up there! I hear a voice! He must be up there!" Shouts rebounded up to Sorën's cavern, and he froze, his eyes flickering with horror as the woman's voice rose above the rest.
"Hide!" he hissed, and the pink thing ducked beneath its blanket of web, obscuring itself from view. If Sorën didn't already know it was there, he would never have guessed he wasn't alone in the summit cave. "I promise," he whispered. "I won't tell them anything. Those monsters don't deserve a Pokémon they're willing to kill over. I'll die first, I promise."
He wasn't sure why he was showing such a fierce, trusting loyalty in the Pokémon's innocence, but there was no time to second-guess himself, because Team Galactic reached his level just then, anger in their eyes and murder in their hearts.
I've put myself on a schedule that should get a chapter of both God of the West and Orion's Heir up every week. If not, then I've hit a snag in my ability to write in my free time. Anyway, please, reviews are appreciated, and so is constructive criticism. I'm not that great of a writer, and suggestions to improve are wanted.
-Muse