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Up until this point, we've followed Ember through the forest, but now, for a switch in point of view, to help familiarize ourselves with this new enemy: Team Origin.
Stay put, Stay put, Stay put, Stay put…
As I folded my thin legs beneath me and gave my feathers a final pruning for the evening, the ever present whispered commands of my Master stroke my consciousness perversely. I tuck my head beneath my wing, closing my eyes and trying to shut out the voices in my head. I was enslaved by Master several months ago. I had been tweaking my nest around my egg, my first child, when the black band wrapped around my leg. My mind, my personal thoughts and dreams and desires, was invaded by a seductive, quiet voice. Come, Come, Come, Come, it commanded. As my body obeyed without question, my mind screeched in anguished protest, as I became a prisoner to this alien force inside me. The man who enslaved me, who I now call Master, didn't bother to even glance at me after I was his. I wasn't worth the scum on the bottom of his shoe, I was but a means to serve his desires. I didn't even get to look back at my egg. My baby… he or she must have long ago been destroyed.
I try not to think of my life before enslavement. It's pointless to dream and hope for something out of reach. When I feel the need to cry and mourn my lost mate, my lost hatchling, my last life, I numb the pain by listening to my captor's commands. Stay put, Stay put, Stay put… a demeaning lullaby. My baby will never hear my lullabies…
As I drift closer to sleep, the sound of near silent feathers tugs at my attention. Hush, not now, no, not now, I don't want be awake, I don't want to live this nightmare anymore. Sleep, time to sleep, where I can dream, and see my unborn child's face… The sound of footsteps approaching me draws me closer to consciousness, and I scuttle away, trying to escape reality.
"Psst." I wail and sob in my mind, mourning for my mate… does he even still look for me? Did he ever search for me in the first place? "Psssst!" I continue to ignore this trespasser, who do they think they are, trying to make me live like a robot? I'm not a machine, I'm not a tool, I'm living, I have feelings and emotions and these emotions are killing me, why would they take me away, what did I do to deserve this? "You, Swanna!"
I bury my emotions. I kick them to the back of my mind, box them away with the cold numbness that is my daily life, and burn them, leaving nothing but cold ashes. I open my eyes. A Noctowl stands in front of me, his head tilted at an extreme angle as he appraises me.
"You're Master is in the center of the camp. Listen to your Collar's commands, it will direct you." I close my eyes again.
"I was sent here by my Alpha," he whispers. "I have no Master." My eyes open slowly, and I reanalyze his form. Nowhere on him, not around his ankle, his neck, the horns on his head or the joint of his wings, is there a Collar. "Free," I whisper incredulously. He blinked stupidly.
"If you mean I am Wild, then yes, I am." I shook my head; he didn't understand. "I came to track a female Luxray," he continued. "She was attacked by a couple Trainer's, and was taken from her family. I followed them all day, and they led me here, but…as you said, it looks like all the Trainer's are in the center of this…camp. I can't gain any more information without possibly being seen."
"Do not confuse those humans with Trainers," I spit. "While some of them do Capture Pokemon and train them, most of them Enslave us. To Capture means to care enough to try and train a Pokemon, to make them reach their full potential… these…beasts, couldn't care what happens to us. We are just a tool." The Noctowl tilts its head again.
"Will you help me?" After a silence, he adds, "I can help you." No one can help us, I think bitterly.
"I was not mistaken when I called you Free. There are Free Pokemon, such as you, and there are Enslaved Pokemon, like myself. Any Pokemon without a Collar is Free. There are also Wild Pokemon, and those who are Captured. See that Buizel, over there? You can be any combination of Free and Enslaved, along with Captured and Wild. She is both Captured and Enslaved. She had a Trainer before she was Collared. Now, her status as a Captured Pokemon means nothing. I, myself, am Wild and Enslaved."
"They call themselves Team Origin. They are fanatics, believing some ridiculous myth about how in the beginning, Pokemon were created with the sole purpose of serving man. However, Arceus, may he be watching us, took pity on us, and gave us our minds. With our new found ability to think, we began to wander off, and live alone in the wild, not serving any human. Hardships fell on humankind as they found they now had to build their own fires, irrigate their own crops, guard their own houses. They blame Pokemon for every issue and disaster to have befallen the human race since documentation of history began. They want to return to the beginning, to the Origin, of this world. They think by forcing us to serve them mindlessly again, they will finally achieve their utopia once more."
"They have some new device… like the one around my foot. Their Collars. Your only hope is to not let one touch you. No attacks will affect them, so don't even try to fight, just run. Unlike Trainers, who use Pokeballs to Capture Pokemon, and raise them, Masters use Collars to Enslave. When a Pokemon is absorbed by a Pokeball, it is given a chance to fight, a chance to gain its freedom again. These Collars don't allow any such thing. Once you have one around you, there is no fighting; you're very mind is their slave. It doesn't matter if you are Wild or Captured; the Collar will Enslave you, and you will no longer be Free able to make your own decisions."
"If that's so, how can you be telling me all this?" The Noctowl looked incredulous, doubting my story.
"Trainers can only have six Pokemon with them at a time, yes?" He nodded. "A Master has no limit to the number of slaves he can control at a time." His feather's bristled, his large eyes narrowing. "A single Master can command an army of Pokemon. Their power is immense. My guess is that it hasn't occurred to any of the humans that they might have opposition, and therefore, have never given the command for us to remain silent about this. Who would the Slaves tell ifthere wasn't anyone to tell things too? If there was a command, I wouldn't be able to talk to you, even if I wanted; the commands are absolute."
"What you have stumbled upon here is one of the smaller sectors of Team Origin." The Noctowl scoffed, looking around; there were hundreds of Pokemon in this clearing, all packed tightly together around the small nucleus of humans in the center, protected by the layers of potential collateral. They slept easy, knowing that their army would willingly throw itself into death's path without a second thought. "Much larger factions, to the South, are massing as well. Even if you succeed in cleansing this area of their influence for now, you can't hold your ground. You cannot fight this. You must run. They will come."
His head snapped to me. "Wait, you said, "even if we succeed." That means there is a way of defeating this…army. How?" I sighed; his hope was so naïve.
"Should you destroy the wristband of a Master, all of its Slaves will be freed. But, like the Collars, they are unaffected by attacks."
"Well, how do we destroy them?"
"Only a human can, there's some sort of disabling code, but I've only ever seen a human successfully unscramble it." The Noctowl nodded, thoughtful. After a brief break in conversation, he refocused on me.
"What is your name?"
"My name is Grace."
"Grace. I am Legion. Come away with me, we can get away from this." I tuck my head beneath my wing again, closing my eyes.
"My Collar is telling me my Master wishes for me to stay here." After a silence, he asked to see where my collar was. I stuck out my leg without opening my eyes. I could hear him Pecking and Air Slashing the black band, but as I knew, nothing worked.
I was already halfway asleep again, already halfway to the sweet haven of unconsciousness, when I heard Legion say, "I'll come back and help you, Grace. You will be Free again." His quiet takeoff shortly followed, and as I fell into a deeper sleep, I fought to erase him and the conversation from my mind. Remembering him, and all his nonsense about fighting back, would spawn hope inside me. And hope was just maggot food in slavery.