A/N: Well, well, well. Ch. 1 complete.~ In case if anyone wonders, this fic takes place between BW1 and BW2. ^^
Ch. 1 Dreams and Fate
Iris dipped her hands into the clear stream water. She shivered, the mountain water was far too cold for her personal tastes—she knew however, she couldn't go home with dirt and grime on her hands and wrists—Drayden would surely get mad again. He had told her before, "If she ever wanted society to accept her as a worthy Champion, she would have to learn how to wash her hands first. After all, society wouldn't want to have someone with muddy hands to greet them." Or something like that, anyway.
With a concentration tongue, she scrubbed harder. Small pieces of dirt flaked off, clouding the water. Once she was Champion, she'd make Drayden get his hands muddy.
She took a deep breath of the fresh mountain air. She had heard a legend passed down in the Village of Dragons that it was Kyurem who had formed mountain water from the ice it created for the people and Pokemon to drink. But what was to be thanked was also to be feared. It was a Pokemon who was said to have a ravenous appetite. To satiate it, tribes from the olden day would perform ritual sacrifices.
Iris shuddered, while she was sure it was a myth to scare little children back to their beds at night, it had always been the most disturbing to her.
Though perhaps, she just couldn't bring herself to imagine a dragon Pokemon extorting human life for its own hunger. Dragon-types were always modest, valiant and smart. They may be cold-blooded and perhaps a little scary looking, but that didn't make them callous and cruel. Sometimes, Iris thought that humans were the cruel ones. Like that boy in her dream last night who was trying to take control of the mythical Ice Dragon. No matter how much the creature wreathed in pain, the boy remained oblivious to its cries of desperation.
People like that made Iris fume. When she was Champion, she wouldn't allow people like that to succeed. She'd kick that guy's butt.
Iris let out a small sigh. She wished she didn't have to wake up early for that one. There, she was Champion and trying to understand the Ice Dragon's heart.
Smiling to herself, she fantasized the ending of it. She and Kyurem had teamed up and sent that guy and his pet snake fleeing.
Iris giggled at the thought. Gleefully, she jumped into the air at her "triumph." Her Haxorus, who was getting a drink of water from the stream, stared at her as if she was crazy.
"Sorry, Haxorus, just goofing off," she said, while rubbing the back of her neck embarrassed. The dragon merely closed its eyes knowingly, and continued to sip water from the stream.
Her grandmother always told her that dreams and fate were closely related. If you were to dream about something in the past, it was you reliving your life. If you were to dream about your future of the thing you most wanted in life, that would become your "Mark of Fate," and you were destined to achieve it one way or another.
Iris had been training hard every day to reach championship. Now the days on the calendar were dwindling and the league was only a week away. She was sure the Spirits sent her that Mark of Fate to reassure her.
Though, it did seem a bit omen-ish. While she had all the capabilities of becoming the Unova champion, she wasn't exactly the people's first choice. Many people considered her to be too wild and too childish to take upon such a responsibility.
Drayden, who was both her mentor and parental guardian, had faith in her. And if some people were as strict as him, she was sure others would have faith in her as well. She hoped.
She shoved the doubt to the back of her mind.
"Hax-ooorus!~ How do my hands look now?" she said with a playful smile and thrust her hands towards her Pokemon's face.
Haxorus momentarily flinched away, and then looked them over with a careful eye. With one of his three sharp claws, he gave her a thumb's up.
Iris cheerfully spun away from the streambed.
"Let's head back home now, I'm getting a bit hungry." she said as she ran up the side of a hill.
Haxorus let out a mighty yawn, and stretched his long body in an awkward cat-like way and followed her. His tail and large feet clumsily smashed nearby flowers, causing their seed to spread like mist.
Iris paused momentarily to take in the scenery from a higher altitude. The stream was crystal-clear as always—the mountains were bold, unforgiving and shrouded in a fog of the morning dew. Iris loved it there—at the mountains. It reminded her so much of home.
"So your training went well, I presume?" Drayden asked. His Druddigon-like white beard barely twitched as he spoke. Iris suppressed a giggle. As long as she had known him, she's never seen his mouth move.
"Yes, it was great! This time I washed my hands and wrists, see?" she said with a toothy grin.
With a gloved hand, Drayden grabbed her wrist firmly and inspected it. He flipped it left and right, and checked under her sleeve.
"So you did," he said, and gave her head a small pat on her head. His face was always stoic, but his golden eyes reflected pride. "By the way, Mrs. Conbrandt called earlier today, she says that she'll need help with the ranch again."
"Again?" Iris said with dismay. Mrs. Conbrandt always called for her help whenever her husband went away for the day. Iris didn't mind helping, but Flocessy Ranch was tough to take care of, especially by herself. It'd get in the way of her tight training schedule, no doubt.
"You'll go, won't you?" he said, with a stern eye.
"O-of course I'll go!" Iris said. "While I'm there I'll ask for some Yache berries again." She smiled and stuck her tongue out.
"Just don't demand them like last time. Mrs. Conbrandt gave me quite the ear full." he said with a sigh, showing his age.
"I didn't demand them. She was just in a tizzy," Iris huffed, "and besides after all the work I did, I deserved those berries."
"Well Yache berries were scarce during that time of the year. You might have better luck this time."
"Yeah, I hope so. What time does she want me there?"
"Around 1:30, the sooner the better." Iris looked at the clock. It was going on noon. If she left right now, it'd be a breeze for her Hydreigon to make it there on time, even sooner.
She stretched her arms.
"I should get going. See ya Drayden." Iris said as she walked toward the door.
"Try not to wander," he said to his apprentice. "She'll be peeved if you get there late."
"I know!" Iris said over her shoulder and was back outside.
The warm sun hit her face. It was nice to be back outside, she always felt trapped indoors.
That was another reason she differed from society. She could never sit still in one place for too long. Easily distracted, she had a habit to wander when she was in new places. She'd never forget the day when Drayden took her to Castelia City to meet Burgh. She had wandered into the waterworks during a game of tag with a lone Ratatta. Apparently, she was gone for so long that they had called the police to find her.
She gave a small huff and sent out her Hydreigon. Just because that happened a few years ago, doesn't mean she didn't mature since then.
The creature came out with a pop and greeted her with a friendly roar. Playfully, one of its arms went to nip at her shoe.
"Hey! Knock it off!" she scolded in between giggles. The blue-violet hydra responded with a cheerful lick on her face. Her broad, pink tongue left a streamline of drool on her face. Happily, Iris brushed it off with her long sleeve. "Think you can take me to Flocessy Ranch, buddy?" Hydreigon let out loud roar—her way of smiling—and lowered her long, hairy neck obediently.
Iris hopped on, sitting at the crook of her neck. Hydreigon let out another rumble and flapped her raggedy wings. It wasn't long before Opelucid City Gym looked like an ant.
The view was nice; they traveled over verdant forests, blue lakes and even met up with a stray flock of Altaria. The baby Swablu were fun to hug, until Hydreigon got jealous and scared them away with Flamethrower.
It was a little after one when she reached the ranch. The place was a mess, she didn't even know how one person being gone could cause such a one. The fence that normally held the Mareep was broken, hay was scattered, and few lone Mareep ran in front of her playing chase.
She hung her head. The ranch had a lot of work to get done. She was about to knock on the front door, when she heard someone raking behind her. She turned around, surprised. She wasn't aware that Mrs. Conbrandt had invited others to clean up as well.
He was a lean guy—wearing a waiter's outfit, a green bowtie and matching buckled shoes. His clothes were very classy, she noted, even having small cufflinks at the ends of his sleeves. Not the type of clothing one would normally wear for handiwork.
"Are you one of the Striaton brothers?" she said with a guess.
She had never met or even seen them before, but she heard that they dressed as waiters wherever they went. Word on the street was that they recently quit being Gym Leaders, their reasoning unknown. People said that they were always clannish, preferring to hang with themselves rather than conversing with other Gym Leaders.
The boy paused momentarily and stared down at her with a small frown. His piercing green eyes felt as if they were staring straight through her.
She backed up a bit, her instincts screamed. She had seen that boy before, somewhere.
He gave her a small nod and went back to work. Could she have imagined that glare?
"Oh, there you are, Iris!" Mrs. Conbrandt said. "I can't thank you enough for coming here. After Herb left for the day the Mareep broke out of their pens and caused this mess. I would have picked this all up myself but oooh…I have to sit down. My nerves are acting up." she said as she pulled out a small handkerchief to dab her forehead.
"That's okay, Mrs. Conbrandt, I can handle things from here." Iris said with a small smile. "By the way, who is that boy?" She nodded towards him. He was still absorbed into raking stray pieces of hay back into a small pile and didn't pause once.
"Oh, him? His name's Cilan, I believe. He offered to give me a hand this morning. Not too bad looking either," she said with a wink and gave Iris a soft nudge.
Iris narrowed her eyes at him.
If he glared at her again, she'd glare right back. To her disappointment, he didn't even look up, not once.
With a defeated sigh, she let him be and grabbed rake nearby. She wanted to get a better understanding of this kid. Something about him was very unnerving, and it wasn't just their earlier encounter either. She could feel his eyes burn into her every time she didn't face him. If she could get close enough to him, she thought that maybe she could read his emotions like she does with dragon-types. While the skill was perfected towards dragons, she found that the perception could also work with people. It had often gotten her out of sticky situations with Drayden.
She side-stepped her way over, whistling a small tune trying not to make it look like she was edging closer to him on purpose.
"Kind of far for Striaton City isn't it, what brings you here?"
Cilan didn't move his head to look at her, only his eyes. A small frown was still placed on his face.
She noticed that he was a very guarded person, and his emotions were unreadable. They felt like a barrier of thorns.
"I came to train," he said quietly.
"Oh, for championship?" Her interest perked. She could be meeting one of her future rivals.
He gave her a brusque nod.
"Is that why you and your brothers quit?" she pressed. Cilan's pale hands tightened on the rake he was holding, and he turned his head towards her.
"No." he said. His voice wavered a tiny bit. Iris felt bad, she was sure she hit a tender spot of some sort.
"I see…you know, I think we were fated to meet," she said, deciding to change the subject. "As rivals." She smiled and held out her hand.
His frown turned into grimace and he clenched his teeth. "I don't believe in fate. I never have and I never will," he said, and looked for something on the ground. "I will be the one to win championship, Iris." He didn't smile, or shake her hand. He only handed her a hammer.
She cast him a confused glance and looked at the small hammer she now held in her hands. Cilan's left eyebrow quirked and he nodded toward the broken fence.
She turned around and angrily kicked a rock. If he wanted her gone he could have said so. She stole a quick glance to see if he was glaring behind her back again. To her surprise, he had stopped working. The rake was settled against the crook of his arm and he held a small, silver flip phone. His gaze was intent as he thumbed keys at a fast pace.
E-mailing on the job…Iris thought bitterly. She found it interesting he used a cell phone; most people these days used an X-transceiver. Though, as far as her knowledge went on the item, one could only voice chat with people. Logic told her that this boy didn't like to talk much.
Putting Cilan aside, she grabbed a broken piece of plywood that lied halfway against the ground, and halfway against the piece it fell off of. Fixing fences were never her specialty, but she had to get the job done one way or another.
Kneeling down so the fence was eye-level, she held up the piece of wood, grabbed a nail and hammered it in diagonally. It wasn't so bad, the wood was soft and even had a bit of lichen growing on it. Iris wondered if the wood could hold through a tough thunderstorm with one nail. Just to be sure, she added another.
"Why are you using rotten wood?" Cilan said, his voice startling her. It was odd—there wasn't a trace of accusation or exasperation in his voice. It was hollow, as if he was merely going through the motions. She turned around and he still fixed her into his gaze.
"I uh…well, wanted it to match," she said, with a small embarrassed blush creeping onto her cheeks. It wasn't really a lie, she just assumed it'd be best as it came from the same plank. "D-Don't you think so too?" she started to say, but Cilan had already left to find a dry piece of plywood in a nearby shed.
Iris bit the bottom of her lip. He made her feel uncomfortable. It wasn't just his stoic behavior, it was something deeper. She couldn't remember what the boy looked like in her dream, but their voices were a perfect match.
He walked back with a short piece of wood slung over his shoulder. There was a tree stump in front of him that she thought he might stagger over, but the green-haired teen simply walked around it without glancing at the ground.
Setting the plank down near her, he forcefully grabbed the piece of wood she nailed on and heaved. With a loud snap the piece of wood slipped in two. With a disgruntled look on his face, he went to pull off the other side.
"Err…here, let me help." Iris decided to intervene. Even if she had a creepy sense of foreboding about him, she felt she couldn't just stand there awkwardly and let him do all the work. He looked momentarily surprised by her offer and took a step back.
His gaze burned through her again. Wearing a confident grin—trying to hide her discomfort—she wrapped her arms around the plywood.
"So do you like grass-type Pokemon?" she asked, trying to relieve the tension.
"Yeah," he said, with his voice still hollow.
"Interesting, aren't they difficult to use?" she said as she pulled the plank. It broke off with little effort.
He shrugged as he crouched down next to her with the new piece of wood. Its tan bark glistened in the sunlight.
Helping him prop it up, he skillfully hammered in a few nails. His four green flicks of hair swayed in a gentle breeze, like grass. The light wind was pleasant; it was turning out to be a hotter day than Iris expected.
"You get the other side, I'll find the Mareep." Cilan said as he got up. Grass and small twigs crunched under his feet as he stalked off.
Iris watched him through suspicious eyes. Her fish-like pigtails bobbed in the wind. He was e-mailing as he walked toward a faraway berry bush. Was it something he didn't want her to know?
Letting out a soft huff, she went back to work. Always reckless and sure, Iris had been one to often jump to conclusions. Drayden warned her avoid doing so, but she just couldn't help but follow her instincts, which were almost always right.
A few minutes later the wind shifted. She heard a clamoring of very annoyed baas. Cilan appeared, with a blue sheep under each arm, and his Simisage gently patted one along.
Her heart skipped a small beat when she saw Simisage.
She narrowed her eyes at Cilan. There was no doubt he was the boy in her dream who tried to take control of Kyurem. She had never seen him before—there was no way she could have made him up. The Spirits clearly sent her a dream into the future.
She suppressed a small shiver. If he will take control of Kyurem, what would be his plans from there on?
It was only a few years ago that Team Plasma tried to take control of Zekrom, and rumor had it that they were in the shadows, just waiting to for the right time to strike—like a Liepard after its prey.
She watched as Cilan placed the Mareep back into their pin.
He flipped out his phone and thumbed at the keys again. His emerald eyes were distant, as though he was thinking of something that happened in the distant past. Mechanically, he looked up to stare at her. His expression was vacant, and for that moment, they locked eyes.
Iris fixed her gaze into a glare—she wouldn't let him intimidate her—no matter how much it felt like he was staring through her soul.
"We need one more," he said, and nodded toward the Mareep.
1…2...3…Mareep, he was right. There was one more they needed. Just as she was about to turn around and look for the final Mareep, she heard a gruff voice calling out to them.
"Hey, kiddos, is this what you were lookin' for?" Iris's eyes widened as she recognized the voice.
It was Alder.
