Chapter 2: Understand Yourself

Drip.

Something cold just hit her—something cold and wet. Braixen stirred, curling up tighter and burrowing deeper into the bushy tail wrapped around her.

Drip.

It happened again, eliciting a frustrated growl from the drowsy fire type. "Fiy mur minus…" She grumbled incoherently.

Drip.

Begrudgingly, Braixen opened her eyes and sat up underneath the cover of her tree. Rain pattered against the canopy of leaves above her—the source of the water droplets, and by extension her rude awakening.

Braixen uncurled, letting out a jaw-stretching yawn as she did so. A moment later and she was up on her feet and walking out into the rain.

She hadn't been idle the last few weeks. After Pidgey had guided her to this spot by the river and she'd gotten a feel for where everything was, the young fire type decided to start a training regimen. A part of that regimen was making sure to work on her fire type attacks whenever it was raining. The rain wouldn't hurt her per se—she wasn't that sensitive to water—but it would weaken her abilities and at the least make her uncomfortable. It also meant that if something caught fire it wouldn't stay on fire for long—an obvious plus for someone who had trouble seeing what they were hitting.

Braixen pulled out her stick, took a deep breath, aimed it towards the river, and used Ember. A stream of fire poured from the tip of the stick—like a wizard casting magic from a wand—and filled her ruined vision with streaks of red and orange. The rain snuffed the gout of flame before it could even reach the ground, prompting an annoyed grunt from Braixen. She tried again, redoubling her efforts, determined to produce a stream hot enough to survive until reaching the water's edge. When that attempt failed, she tried again, and again, and eventually settled into a routine of repeatedly casting Ember.

After a while, her mind began to wander; back to the day she'd first learned how to use the attack. It had been bright and cloudless, and the contrast to her current predicament prompted an inward chuckle. She was also still a fennekin, and could recall with vivid clarity her father's bemused smile while she danced about the meadow making a fool of herself.

"Ember!" she yelled fiercely, as if calling the attack would somehow will it into existence. "Ember, I said! Ember, Ember, Emmmbeeeeer!"

"Calm down kiddo," the male delphox chuckled as he rose from his spot against a nearby tree. "Just yelling the attack's name won't help you figure out how to use it any faster."

The golden-furred fox huffed and turned to her father. "But you're the one who told me to try yelling in the first place!" she pouted.

"And you took me seriously?" Delphox asked, earning a frustrated glare from his daughter. "Okay, okay—sorry! A bit more seriously though, some pokemon like to yell the attack name as a way to help them focus—but you still have to do the other things I told you to do." Delphox raised a brow and added, "You do remember what I told you, right?"

With a sigh, Fennekin rattled off, "'To use an attack I have to understand the attack. To understand the attack, I have to understand myself.' But what does that mean?"

"Well, that depends on the attack," Delphox replied. "In the case of Ember, it means finding the flame inside yourself—the flame that all fire types have—and using it to fuel your attack. You have to tap into its power, let it build up at a focal point, and then release it steadily over time."

"And how was I supposed to figure that out from all that…stuff?" Fennekin groaned and flopped onto the grass. "Why is this so hard!? I've been out here for hours and I still haven't figured it out!"

"It takes time to learn new moves," Delphox said as he sat down beside his daughter. "The more you practice and the stronger you get, the easier it becomes to learn new techniques. I know it seems like it's taking forever, but it'll pay off. You just have to keep trying, that's all."

Fennekin looked the other way, sullen. "What's the point?" she grumbled. "It's not like I'll ever be as strong as you and mommy…"

Delphox raised a brow. "Oh? Why do you say that?"

There was a pause as Fennekin turned her head back and really looked at her father. Superficially, he seemed to be a carbon copy of her mother—fur robe and all. But while her mother was sleek and graceful, he was rugged and dignified. Where her features were soft, his were sharp. Yet despite these differences—differences Fennekin suspected pokemon outside her evolutionary family wouldn't even notice—they shared one thing in common.

"You and mommy are just so strong," Fennekin replied. "I want to evolve and be like you! I want to pick things up with my paws, reach high-up places, move things with my brain, and…all the other things you can do!" Fennekin's ears drooped. "But how can I hope to do that when I can't even figure out how to use Ember?"

Delphox looked at his daughter, serious now, and considered his response. "You know what your problem is? You're impatient." Fennekin gave him a look, but the elder fox continued, "Evolving takes two things: time and effort. And if you really want to get specific, time is only a factor in so much that it passes by as you're putting in the effort. You won't get anywhere in life just wishing for things to happen. If you really want something—be it to learn a new move or to evolve—you have to work for it."

Fennekin considered her father's answer. "But what if I can't though? What if I can't learn Ember or can't evolve?"

Delphox laughed. "Okay, now you're just being silly. First of all, there's nothing physically preventing you from doing either of those things other than lack of experience—unless you swallowed an everstone when I wasn't looking. Second…" Delphox leaned in so that he was looking straight into her orange-red eyes. "Fennekin, if you really put your mind to it there's nothing you can't accomplish."

Fennekin mulled over that for a several minutes. "Do you mean it?" she eventually asked. "Will I really be as strong as you and mommy some day?"

Delphox smiled. "I mean it."

Fennekin nodded and smiled. With newfound determination, she rose from her spot and scampered a few yards away.

Braixen watched with her mind's eye as her younger self took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled. She had to look inside herself…find her inner fire…tap into its power, let it build at a focal point. Yes, let it build…let the flame grow, fueled by the fiery passions of her emotions. Her father had promised that so long as she tried, so long as she put in enough effort there was nothing she couldn't accomplish—no limit to her strength! Build that fire! Build that power—the power she could have had to protect her family and save her home! Let the inferno consume all until nothing was left and—!

Braixen roared as a monstrous torrent of flame erupted from her stick, filling her vision with pure crimson. The stream of fire not only reached the edge of the river but hit the water's surface, evaporating a huge chunk of it and causing an eruption of steam.

Panting, crying, Braixen dropped her stick and fell to her knees, unconcerned about the rain falling against her back. She stayed that way for several minutes, both catching her breath and trying to calm down.

And then she realized something: that wasn't Ember she'd used. That was Flamethrower! Braixen patted the ground for her stick, found it, and then got up to see if she could do the attack again. She held out her stick and fired off another burst of flame—much weaker than before. That was regular old Ember.

Braixen frowned. What had she done different to produce Flamethrower? She reflected on her emotions from a moment ago—in particular her anger—and decided to replicate them. She focused, thinking about her family, again. This time the flame she produced was much stronger. It still wasn't as powerful as the original burst, but it was definitely a step in the right direction.

Braixen let out a shuddering sigh and started to make her way back to her tree to take a nap. She was done training for today.

When Braixen woke up, it became clear–in hindsight—that during her last training session she perhaps might have overdone it. The first sign was the dull ache that permeated every inch of her body. Using an attack repeatedly, even one as basic as Ember, required a large amount of energy over time. Braixen had depleted a significant portion of her reserves and was now suffering the consequences.

The second sign was the loud rumble in her gut, and the realization that she had slept at least an entire day and night.

Braixen put a paw to her stomach and let out a heavy sigh. Well, she couldn't do anything about the aching, but at least she could make the hunger go away.

A quick trip to the river and an even quicker trip to the berry bushes, and she was feasting on a small pile of succulent oran berries. She bit into the fruit, savoring itsflavor, all the while contemplating what she should do with herself today. Finding more food was probably a good idea; the berry bushes she'd been living off of were getting low, and better to search now while she still had a fallback.

As Braixen continued her meal, plotting the specifics of her expedition, she failed to notice a rustling in the bushes on the opposite end of the clearing. The rustling grew louder, finally catching the little fire fox's attention, and before she could react there were three voices speaking all at once:

"—starvin'! I could eat a whole—"

"—told you I knew the way, you crooked-eared—"

"Wouldn't be the first time that you—"

The three voices paused, and through the blurs of color Braixen could make out three globs of gray and brown. She got the feeling that they were staring at her, and—wishing not to start any trouble with her fellow wild pokemon—waved a paw at them and said, "Um, good morning."

"Noon actually," one of the three—a diggersby it sounded like—said curtly. "What's a lil' fox like you doin' here by the river?"

"I-I've been living here," Braixen replied. "My family and I were chased out of our den by humans, and—"

"Humans? You must be one of pokemon caught in that fire the birds been squawking about," said a second diggersby."

"Ya know, I'm pretty sure she's a fire type," piped the third. "They say it was the humans that started it, but what if it were this one and her folks?"

"We did not start that fire!" Braixen hissed angrily, rising to her feet. "Don't you dare blame my family for what the humans did! They—they destroyed everything…took away my parents…hurt my friends…" She had more to say, but was too choked up to put thoughts to words.

"Whatever you say matchstick," said the first diggersby, entirely nonchalant. His eyes must have wandered to the berry bush, because the next thing he said was a very angry-sounding, "Who ate all of our berries?"

Braixen froze, acutely aware of the pile of oran berries sitting at her feet. It didn't take long for them to notice, and the portly bipedal rabbits started to advance in unison.

"You've been eatin' our berries," said the second diggersby—not an accusation so much as an angry declaration.

"I-I didn't know they were yours," Braixen replied, taking a step away while simultaneously reaching for her stick. She knew their claim was ludicrous—other pokemon had come and gone, which meant this was open territory—but that didn't matter when there were three of them and only one of her. "I was tired and hungry, and a pidgey led me here and—"

"Those were our berries!" said the third diggersby as he and his two friends approached. "Everyone in the forest knows we come here to eat them berries every now and then, but you ate all but a few of them!"

"I-I'm sorry, I really am, but—!"

"First ya try ta burn down half the forest, then you eat all our food," said the first. "I guess we're just gonna have ta teach you a lesson…"

Braixen pulled out her stick and fired off a Psybeam. It lanced forward and struck one of the diggersby in the gut, knocking him down and distracting his comrades. Braixen turned tail and ran, knowing full well she couldn't beat them and hoping she might be able to lose them in the forest.

"After her!" screamed one of the diggersby. Braixen ignored him and focused on trying to run as fast as she could without tripping. Several somethings whizzed past her head—globs of Mud Shot—but she decided to ignore it and hope their aim wouldn't improve.

A wall of gray appeared in front of her. "Where do ya think you're goin'?" asked a diggersby as he rose from the ground and struck her with one of his ears. The arm-like appendage knocked her back a good distance away and was followed up by two full-body tackles from her other assailants.

Braixen lay on the ground, stunned and disoriented from the combination of attacks, and then there was a heavy weight on her chest. "You aren't goin' anywhere now," said a diggersby, the other two behind him, as he shifted some of his weight to the foot pinning Braixen to the ground.

"Get…off…" Braixen wheezed. She tried to wiggle out from underneath, but all that did was prompt the heavier rabbit to push even harder.

"Yeah that's right, squirm! This'll teach ya' to take what don't belong to you!" The other two pokemon yelled their agreement, and then he shifted even more of his weight down, further restricting Braixen's ability to breath and coming dangerously close to cracking her ribcage.

The longer he crushed her, the more frantically Braixen struggled, until finally she reached for her stick, and pointed it at the diggersby's face. "I said, GET OFF!"

Braixen used Flamethrower, scorching the Digging pokemon's face and eliciting a scream of pain. Once again, the other two pokemon were too busy tending to their teammate to immediately give chase, and Braixen was finally able to put some distance between them.

She put everything she had into running, doing her best to ignore the stabbing pain in her sides and the bruise on her chest. As she ran, her ears picked up a low rumble—which became a steady rush, and then a mighty roar. Braixen entered a clearing, stopped, and after a moment of panting let out a frustrated growl—she was back by the river! Behind her, she could hear distant shouts—the diggersby weren't far behind.

What could she do? Crossing the river was out of the question, and her chances of slipping away from the diggersby a third time were slim. She glanced at the stick in her paws…she was utterly exhausted, and maybe had the strength for one more attack.

Braixen looked at her stick, and then at the noisy blue blur behind her. The Fox pokemon took a deep breath, getting ready for what was probably her only means of escape.

She approached the river, careful not to step over the edge, and waited. She didn't wait long; as two of the three diggersby emerged from the bushes, Braixen held out her stick—alight with flame—and turned to face her pursuers.

"You stupid fox—you almost blinded him!" shouted a diggersby. "I'm gonna' tear you to pieces for what you did!"

Braixen winced, but quickly regained herself and said, "Do you even know why you're doing this anymore? I'm sorry I ate your stupid berries, but this is going way too far!" She pointed the stick towards them and added, "Just…please, leave me alone!"

"No!" yelled the other diggersby. "You've done made us mad, and you hurt a nest brother! We're gonna' beat you senseless until we feel like the score is settled!" Thus said, the two wild pokemon let out a shrill screech and rushed her.

A stream of fire erupted from the tip of the stick and hit the ground a few yards away, detonating as a small, fiery explosion. The attacking pokemon stopped their charge, coughing and wheezing from the smoke, and when it finally cleared Braixen was gone.

"Where the hell did she go?" asked one of the diggersby.

"I don't have the faintest idea," admitted the other. "The only place she coulda gone was in the river, but surely she weren't that crazy, was she? I mean, a fire type swimmin' in currents like that…"

"I guess it don't matter," the first replied. "Either she's escaped or she's done drowned herself—either way, nothin' we can do about it."

The diggersby left to tend to their friend back in the forest. Downriver, a speck of gold came out of the water, managed to stay afloat for a few seconds, and then disappeared below the surface just as quickly as it appeared.

Author's Note: Well, that got really nasty really fast.

It's been a ride writing this chapter. Lots of rewriting and rethinking, mainly in regards to making sure things don't get too melodramatic. I think I managed to find a balance, but I leave it to you the reader to give the final verdict.

Also, the feedback I've gotten already has been amazing for a new fic, so thank you guys for that! :)