Revival Chapter Two: Resurface
There are WAY too many pokemon shippings that start with the letter 'P'... I've noticed that a lot of people that have placed this story on 'Alert' are Pearlshipping fans. Now I don't have a problem with that pairing, it is not the pairing here in the story. The eventual pairing is Poke, not Pearl. I apologize for the confusion and if it felt like I misguided you in any way. I assure you, I wasn't. I hope that this does not affect your judgment about the story because of the pairing in it. If anything, keep an open mind, you just might like the story. If not, then I'm not forcing you to read this, or keep it on 'Alert or all that jazz.
Thank you.
Two Years Later...
Blaidd shifted uncomfortably in the hot plastic stadium chair, red eyes watching the battle intensely. It was the quarter-final match of the Sinnoh League. Two trainers, Ash of Pallet Town, and Paul, of Veilstone City, were against each other. Blaidd studied Ash, and how the teen had grown up since Blaidd had seen him. It was obvious to see that the young man wasn't pursuing training his Aura, yet it still pulsed strong with the boy, giving Blaidd a glimmer of hope.
"I don't think that Pallet boy stands a chance," a man snorted next to Blaidd. Blaidd could tell that the man was slightly intoxicated, by the way he smelled and his Aura. Over the past two years, Blaiid learned to read Aura, to determine emotions and their conditions. This man's Aura was a dark shade of blue, with strands of a sickly red flickering through the blue, like lightning traveling through storm clouds. Blaidd inched as far away as he could, praying that the wind would change directions, taking the man's wretched smell with him. "His team is weak against that Paul guy. There's no way."
Blaidd raised an eyebrow at the drunkard. "I wouldn't underestimate Ash if I were you. I've heard he's been in the top eight in quite a few tournaments. I heard he even beat a dragonite with his pikachu alone."
"That's bull," the drunkard slurred, the drink in his hand sloshing a bit.
The announcer's voice interrupted his argument. "And it looks like Ash's third pokemon is down, while Paul is still on his second. If Ash is to make a win out of this one, he better start now!" Blaidd felt a twinge of distress as he watched the battle. Maybe it was his pride, but he wished that he didn't see his future student to be lose against this trainer. He stood up, groaning and stretching his cramped muscles. Plastic chairs were not the best accommodations.
The tippler laughed at Blaidd, a grating sound. "What's the matter? Scared that your trainer is losing?"
"I'm going to stretch, and to get away from your wretched scent. You smell like a brewery that's at least three weeks past the ideal fermentation date." The stranger paused and scrunched his face, trying to make sense of the insult. By the time he figured it out, Blaidd had already left the stands. He snarled at the retreating figure and shouted a few choice insults at Blaidd.
The stadium was filled to the brim today, vendors trying to peddle their 'official' Pokemon league merchandise, food stands packed with hungry fans wanting to get a bite. The chaos and noises echoing the concrete hallways were too much for Blaidd, and he found himself in an isolated and relatively quiet area of the arena, much to his surprise and away from the crowds. The area was near the battle stage, allowing him a near perfect view of the battle waging below. He glanced down at his hands. It would be so easy to change the battle, so that it fell in Ash's favor. A little telepathic command here and there and the battle could be easily Ash's, allowing him to advance to the semi-finals.
"Wait, how could I be thinking of such a thing like that?" Blaidd thought with horror. "I've been in human society far too long. There is no honor in changing a battle that is not your own." he imagined what Sir Aaron would have thought of the idea. His teacher's shame was too much to bear even thinking about. "It must be my pride talking." This was his future student after all. He had always been a prideful pokemon, a trait that carried over during his rebirth. To see his future student lose would have been a severe blow to his ego.
He drove that thought from his mind and Blaidd went back to watching the battle, leaning against a concrete support beam. The battle turned back to Ash's favor, and in a close match, the trainer won, narrowly beating Paul's last pokemon. Blaidd felt a surge of pride swelling in his chest, and started to wind his way through the exuberant crowd, hoping to catch a moment or two with the winning trainer.
He shoved his way past the throngs, and found himself swamped by a swarm of reporters and the flashing lights of the camera. Blinking the spots from his eyes caused by the camera lights, Blaidd lost track of the trainer in the mass of spectators. The mass stopped as one of them asked the young man. Blaidd didn't hear much of the conversation, but he caught snippets of it, mainly a 'Hi mom! Hey Misty!', whoever this 'Misty' person was. Blaidd sighed. "So much for that plan. Maybe I'll catch him at the Pokecenter he staying in." Blaidd knew that going to a Pokecenter was a huge risk for him. Pokemon had the ability to sense certain things about people, and deep down, Blaidd was frightened of the prospect of a pokemon discovering his real identity, that of a Lucario. But it was a risk he would have to take.
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Ash flopped down on the bed in his room and stretched out like a drowsy glameow; it had been a long day, for both him and his pokemon, which were resting in their pokeballs after a long rest at the Center. Pikachu was racked out, sleeping on its back, snoring lightly. He occasionally twitched in his sleep, lost in some dream or another.
"Hey Dawn, could you pass me the bag of potato chips there?" he asked.
Dawn, who was working on some designs for her pokemon, shot him a look. "You could get them yourself, lazy butt."
"Please? You're so much closer." Ash was rewarded with a bag of chips to the head. "Aw great, now they might be broken."
"They're still chips, you can still eat them."
Brock, who was dozing lightly on the top bunk, groaned. "Will you cut it out? Some of us are trying to rest you know. Ash, you need your rest too. Your semi-final match is tomorrow."
"I'll be fine Brock, my pokemon can handle anything that thrown their way."
There was a knock at the door. Brock flung the pillow over his head. "Jeez," he muttered through the pillow. "Who would be coming at this time of night?"
Dawn got up from the desk she was at. " Fine, I'll get it since neither of you two are going to get up anytime soon." She opened the door. Hello?"
Blaidd shifted anxiously by the door, waiting for someone to answer. The nurse Joy downstairs had been kindly enough to give him the room number. With no pokemon noticing him, he made it upstairs with no trouble at all. Now though, the real task was going to begin. "Hello, my name is Blaidd Wilson." Blaidd began; the last name he took was to assimilate better into human society. "May I speak to Ash Ketchum?
Dawn frowned at him. "Sorry, but it's really late and he isn't taking reporters right now." She replied, a little testily at Blaidd. Ever since the match, the trio had been plagued by numerous fans and reporters. Frankly, Dawn was growing a little irritated at the throngs. Her Grand Festival wasn't even this bad.
"But, I'm not-" the door was shut in Blaidd's face. "-A reporter." he protested meekly. "Well, that went well," Blaidd thought. "I'll have to try again soon."
XXXXXXXXXXX
The campfire was burning down to cinders as Blaidd sat near it, meditating, connecting with Aura. It was a technique he was taught, to better center yourself with the Aura, allowing for greater access to it. Aura was a complicated force, almost with a life of it's own. True, he had plenty of Aura within him, but he couldn't use it all at once, he could seriously cause injury to himself, or worse, die. Thus, he had to also rely on outside sources, but he had to be careful with that too. He could kill the other sources of Aura, like trees, other pokemon, and other living beings.
"To strike a balance between one's self and the outside world is the key." Sir Aaron had taught him. "The key to maintaining one's strength without harming yourself or others in the process. One cannot protect the people if you're dead."
Blaidd could feel the Aura flowing around him, like multiple tributaries flowing into one united whole. The connections were numerous, hundreds in number, and he could sense him losing himself among the 'rivers' of Aura. He jerked himself back to reality. The last thing he wanted was to lose his sanity among the Aura. There had been incidents of apprentices, losing themselves in the flow of Aura, never brought back to reality. They spent their days in in almost vegetative state, their mind with the
'currents', lost until the end of their lives. It was something Blaidd did not wish to experience.
He rummaged through his pack and pulled out a hunk of wood and a handful of tools, and started to whittle away at the piece. It was a hobby he had taken up during his self training. The activity helped him relax, clear his mind, sometimes even better than meditating did. Unfortunately, however, it was a constant reminder of his humanity. A hobby like this would have been impossible to do if he were back in his original body. The wood piece started to take the shape of a rose, each intricate petal of the flower slowly coming to life under the gentle guidance of his tools. Blaidd did have to admit though, having a greater dexterity than before was probably the only thing he enjoyed about being human. Everything else about his human body he despised.
Two years passed since his rebirth and he still loathed that fact that he was stuck in this body, at least until Arceus deemed worthy to be normal again. The complexities of human society, the confining rules that always seemed to contradict each other. . He always felt like he was breaking some rule, or dictate of society, or nicety, even though half the time, he didn't know what it was. The whole system was completely unnecessary overly complicated and cumbersome. "No wonder so many younglings travel around. It's to escape society." Blaidd mused. He steadily worked on the piece until he yawned mightily, he placed the half-carved wood back into his pack, along with the tools. The last of the campfire's embers died away and he pulled his long coat over his body, to serve as a improvised blanket. He had little need to worry about wild nocturnal pokemon attacking him; they could tell that at one point or another that he had been one of them. That and the additional fact that Blaidd was a master of using Aura kept the wild ones at a wary distance.
Of course, it wasn't the pokemon in the wilds he was worried about.