Chapter 2

Artemis and I got along like two flowers in a field… that is to say we didn't really associate with each other much at all.

With the weather being so nice (and me being all tuckered out from a big day of shouting) I just decided to camp down on the beach for the night, and the best part was I didn't need to feed Artemis, who seemed to be satisfied by her Caterpie cadaver.

That first night taught me, perhaps the most important lesson of my early journey; Artemis was a nocturnal creature, a fact which would come to shape my entire training career.

Actually no, scratch that, the most, MOST important lesson I learnt was that Artemis figured out how to work the switch of my flashlight almost instantly (to the degree that I suspected Oak had specifically trained her as such), and had the annoying habit of pointing it at my face.

That evil little, purple ball of fuzz sure had a nasty streak.

It was with groggy eyes that I woke the next morning, 'accidentally' kicking my little starter as I was rolling up my sleeping bag and vowing to find a deep hole to drop that torch into.

Needless to say neither of us had a very good morning, and it wasn't until midday that I'd managed to manoeuvre my way to the beginning of route 1, finishing off the last of my energy bar, and being careful not to be seen dropping the wrapper onto the ground. $200 fines be damned.

More than glad to leave this little skidmark of a town behind, I headed off into the infamously backwater route 1.

I won't bore you with the details of my first week as a trainer, the short version as follows; I walked, ate, pissed, and slept.

I did put what I had learnt about Artemis's hunting cycle to use though, waiting until sundown to release her from her pokeball, and spending a few hours training her on the Rattata and Caterpie who seemed the most curious about us. Thanks to her poison typing we actually managed to take care of the odd Pidgey too, it's just a shame they were usually too toxic to eat (another little titbit I wish I'd known earlier, if only to save myself the horror of explosive diarrhoea in the middle of a forest).

But joking aside that first week taught me volumes about my psychotic little huntress. She was somewhat small for her species, and yet seemed to make up for it by being constantly hostile, which was more than fine by me, if I was going to be using her to battle other pokemon for money I'd much rather her want blood than to hold hands and sing 'Koombaya'.

It was also impossible to sneak up on her from any direction, as I had learnt when trying to pay her back for yet another night time torch show. I'd been so stealthy too, making no noise, walking on the balls of my feet, yet nothing seemed to get past her radar system. The moment I came within striking distance she pivoted on one foot then tackled me right in the groin.

Fortunately for me she was not a morning pokemon, giving me ample opportunities for wake up calls. Retribution thou art just.

And thus our relationship went on this way, a constant game of one-upmanship, and probably would have remained that way too if not for the first time Artemis lost a battle.

"Do I feel like instant noodles for dinner or an energy bar?"

"Brrribibirrirbiirbiii" I still had to work on understanding her.

"Hmm, though you make a good point, I'd much rather have the noodles now when I've got time to heat them up, instead of munching on dry noodles for breakfast."

Artemis just gave me her dead, buggy, stare, then headed off for a bit of hunting, and so we'd have repeated the same ritual as every other night if not for her temperament.

Though I'm not too sure on the details, and doubt I ever will be, I've gathered that she was snooping around a tree looking for an easy meal when she picked up a Spearow on her radar. Seeing a lone Spearow in the forest should have been warning enough, but as of yet she'd spent her whole life domesticated and didn't know the cardinal rule.

I'll always blame myself for not coming when I heard the shrieks, but I honestly can't even remember what it was that had me so disinterested, maybe I was tired or just assumed she'd caught an unusually vocal Pidgey, however when I heard what could only be the sound of Artemis in pain (perhaps a testament to how much closer we had bonded than I realised), I sprinted.

It took me a painfully long few minutes before I found her, valiantly facing down a flock of Spearow, visible wounds and matted fuzz, and it had been anger which gave me strength to pick up a branch and send the closest of the flying vermin tumbling to the ground.

All my fears and insecurities rattled around in my head, and perhaps would have overpowered me had it not been for a stronger voice I heard. Artemis's.

Previously unknown fire fuelled me as I wielded my makeshift weapon, almost never landing a direct blow on the far nimbler Spearow; I didn't care, for all I knew, I was Achilles at the wall of Troy, and these Spearow my Hector, for each missed stroke only fuelled my rage. And so our dance continued, I would swing then duck, lunge and parry, all the while keeping the attention off Artemis.

An amount of time later, perhaps minutes, perhaps hours, I wouldn't be able to tell you, the Spearow either lay wounded or scattered, my club had long since disintegrated into a splintered handle and I finally felt the exhaustion my body had been holding back. I don't even remember the trek back, just the warm embrace of my sleeping bag and Artemis's red eyes watching me.

Dead and buggy I had called them.

Funny how comforting I now found them. Not dead, but Intelligent. Not buggy but… okay yeah they still looked buggy, but a good buggy, a vigilant buggy. I knew that those eyes would watch me whilst I slept and for the first time the thought didn't give me Goosebumps.

I slept better that night than I had for far longer than I realised.

Artemis's trust came at a price, something I realised instantly upon waking up to a symphony of pain the next morning. A worthwhile trade? I'm still debating.

Just as I'd predicted, Artemis stood there watching me, and it wasn't until I saw her in the sunlight that I noticed the true extent of her wounds; Amidst the numerous gashes on her fur, one of her eyes had a large cut right down the center, she seemed to be favouring one side more than the other, but perhaps most alarming of all was the obviously bent antennae which drooped down as if it knew the futility of its situation.

She was a mess, and yet she'd stood vigilant all night for me.

I levelled her gaze, no small feat when considering her compound eyes, and managed to get one word out from between my bloodied lips, "Good." That is the day I consider to be the beginning of our journey, the day we became partners.

I did my best to patch her up with the potions I had on me, but she needed professional attention, so I recalled her to her ball and packed up my camp. The cuts all over me too numerous to count, and each one rivalled by a bruise of equal size. I suppose we were lucky to be close to the end of the forest; I shudder to think what would have happened had we been in the midst of it.

My footsteps kept me going and without noticing I found myself counting steps, which was perhaps the reason why I wasn't focusing on the path as much as I ought to, and didn't realise what I'd stumbled upon until it had caused me to tumble face first into the ground.

From my peripherals I saw a boot jutting out across the path; This was no accident.

Renewed vigour flowed through me giving me the strength to sit up, "What the FUCK do you think you're doing, you pain in the… oh."

Jutting out from the undergrowth next to the path lay a pair of legs with heavy hiking boots. Just the legs. A quick scope of the surroundings revealed what remained of their owner.

In two words? Not much.

Now I really have to get out of here.

Stories of ghosts and other nefarious pokemon who liked to rip apart young trainers pranced around my mind, almost gleefully malicious. I didn't see what caused the injuries and for the life of me I didn't give two fucks if it was ghosts, backpedalling away from the scene so fast I didn't even see the torso behind me and for the second time, fell flat on my face.

A closer inspection of the torso and head revealed it to be one of the kids at Oak's lab the day before, and again I surveyed my surroundings. Nothing moved. Alarmingly so.

My instincts screamed at me to run, but there was just one more thing I had to check, and after a final glance of the surroundings, I grimaced and reached into his pockets, taking out one pokeball. I'm not proud of it, but I took his wallet too, just as a SNAP came from the direction I'd come and at last the final vestiges of control I possessed fled. I ran down the path and didn't stop or look back until the lights of Viridian embraced me much softer than any bed could.

That's the story of how I came to fear route 1.

And how I looted a dead child's corpse.