Aftershock

Chapter 4: New Developments

Night lowered its peace into the turrets of the forest of shimmering steel.

It was an unusually silent night for an unusually burgeoning metropolis, and all the blazing carriers of light and life hung low, resting, if only for this night. Few stars of yellow beam traversed the shaded roads; few of the revelries of life played out their glory, but it did not seem oppressively silent, as if everything was as it should be.

Not a single soul would reveal itself to winged passersby, except one.

A heavily cloaked figure, it could, perhaps, be said to be shabbily dressed; but some aspect of its form seemed to cohere well with its old, ragged apparel. As to the manner of ancient times, it seemed to any who would watch as though the vestiges of its clothing trailed behind it in a long, winding tail, but closer perception would entirely confound the watcher, and he would be forced to admit that it seemed as if the very webs of shadow through which the figure purposefully waded drank in his presence, lingering behind him in aimless paths. And if the silver moonlight banished the dark cotton which spread its length into the corners of the city, this being seemed only to grow in its dark splendour and introverted glory when exposed to the subtle rays.

As if seeing a sign which only he could perceive, he stopped abruptly, turning to appraise a patch of darkness in the surrounding wall absolutely indistinguishable from the cloaked brick around it. He stepped into the pitch confines of the back alley and, as if melding into the darkness entirely, emerged out of its other end an instant later, half a mile away. The creature paused for a moment, then, as the sprawling vastnesses of a mansion and an old-fashioned laboratory complex revealed themselves to him.

Fifteen times had he listened to the story echoing within its spacious halls; fifteen times had it ended, unfinished, leaving him hanging. This was his sixteenth iteration, but it was different, special. This time, he would know the truth in its full.

Luphinid Remana Silnaek glided into the penultimate chord of his journeys.

Amaren opened his eyes to see cerulean meeting his own.

Ruki was bending over his bed, examining him with faint concern. "Nightmare?" she estimated sympathetically. "You were moving around a bit violently."

"No, not really," he replied, truthfully. He had seen some difficulty in sleeping this night, but it was likely a temporary result of his exertions than a visible problem. He certainly did not remember doing anything to elicit such a response from his roommate.

Amaren returned her appraising gaze with one of his own. A trick of the light, perhaps; but how lost she looked, how sad: a frail child stood before him, in a universe of grand matters. Was it his duty to comfort her?

"It's okay, it really is," he managed alone, the opportunity passing before his eyes. A parting, almost imperceptible tighten of helplessness – and wan moonlight returned to her eyes, lighting them with her characteristic spirit. Yet, as though caught in the act, the silvery blue seemed almost furtive, enshrouding a deeper thought with its drowning light.

"All right," she murmured, smiling an induced smile in response to Amaren's. "Goodnight"; and returned to her own bed.

"'Night."

[//\/\/\/\/\//\\//\\//\/\/\/\/\/\/\\//\\//\\/\/\/\/\/\//

Recuperation had run swiftly after their duel with peril, and health and life had returned with all the vigour of youth within a night, for most.

Confounded by the desperate rarity of the events of the last evening, Amaren and Ruki saw their only answer in the seeming hoards of information stored within their trainer card. Amazingly, under the influence of a Pokèmon attack or other sign of battle, it was programmed automatically to infer the tides of the battle from its surroundings and its wireless link to the Concentrated Storage Devices and record it for future contemplation. It seemed that data stored in the card was graded according to the maturity of the reader, and thus many topics were encrypted, to be unlocked at the insertion of a Gym Badge of sufficient rank; but there was a reasonable exception in this case. While some hidden facets of the world could only be learnt once the seeker gained sufficient intelligence to understand them, it was only natural, when one such intersected to completely with an underage trainer's life, that it would be his right to know of it in the full.

The two companions leaned over the iron tablet, therefore, sitting in Ruki's favourite table at the back of the main hall of the Center, as it unfurled a textbox to spell out an article explaining Amaren's sudden actions.

"It is an established fact that while most Psychic-type attacks originate from the Pokèmon's mind, their bodies are fragile and most unsuited for the carrying of energy of all types. The mental capacities of a Psychic-type are literally infinite, but their limitations occur in the brief space of time when thought, converted into physical energy, is channeled into the body and then released. While such an intense concentration of energy inhabits the form momentarily, the physical body is worn slightly, unable to efficiently contain this inside it. However, the moment is a near-infinitesimal one, and the body soon recovers before much damage is done. It is in rare cases when the physical vehicle for the mind is strained so greatly that it shuts down due to extreme heat damage, inducing unconsciousness.

"In extreme occasions, it is possible for the psychic mind in such a situation to leave its body for a short space of time and inhabit another, willing living carrier for its work. Depending on the nature of the new vehicle, it may sustain unpredictably great damage, even more unsuited towards containing Psychic energy within it than the original body, or possibly experience only a minimum of fatigue and soon recover. The reasons for the latter are not fully known, and may vary greatly with the case."

From the single orange triangle hovering at the bottom of the text, more could be said upon the subject, but the youth are ever unfocused and prone to sudden swings in interest and mood, and the card saw a quick rejection of its proffered information – though the extent of what they had read was most appreciated.

Amaren had been fortunate to find that his body was an enduring carrier for Ytarrik's consciousness, as long as it had been there; and thus the boy had returned to a suitable semblance of health within the day. After a night of rest, indeed, he was returned to the full of his spirits. As for the Abra, while his body had suffered great injury, the healing abilities of modern technology were unparalleled, and he was well on the path to recovery, though still slumbering in the bedrest wing of the Center in his own comatose form of rejuvenation. In a few days, he would be returned to battle readiness; and the collective group purposed to concentrate their attentions on Angin meanwhile.

Unexpectedly, the entirety of his plunge into the art of training had caused Amaren since that morning to look into the endless lines of theoretical strategy which, as he had soon learnt, ran at the very foundations of the heat of battle. Retrospectively, it had become clear that much more than brute force was required in such battles whose difficulty transcended one's own strength, and the objective of knowing this in its full Amaren now took as his obsession.

With great success; he soon developed a tolerance, even inclination, towards the less physical aspects of his trade, and began the very day after the battle to use his trainer card for such tasks as learning the type chart by heart, or deepening his understanding of the physical and special attributes of Pokèmon. If he was asked to explain his new fascination, he would direct the questioner's attention to the fact that legally, he was required to know such basic concepts long before he became a Trainer; and that this would have happened had he been schooled officially. When pressed, he would elaborate only so far as to say that Ruki knew fully everything he had begun reading then, and he did not wish to be inferior in any regard to his companion trainer.

It was towards this end, therefore, as they ran lightly down the steps of the Pokèmon Center one time again towards the northern route of Saffron, that Amaren began strategizing their future course of movement, triggering a conversation which he had never imagined to hold, although it was apparent to be the first of many such.

"Psychic is countered by Dark and… and…" Amaren began, equally surprised to be uttering this sentence, and yet foreseeing several more in future. "Ruki, what else counters Psychic?"

"Um… who cares?" she replied, in precise resemblance to Amaren's past replies towards intellectual discussions.

"Uh, uh… Bug! That's correct. And also Ghost, I think. Now, I don't think I should catch a Dark-type, I've had bad experiences with them."

"Some very bad experiences," Ruki added, with a half-mock-shudder.

"I looked in the encounter locations, there isn't a Ghost-type here for miles. So the only chance we have is to look for a bug somewhere. Undignified, I know, but still…"

"Wow, you're really putting thought into all of this, aren't you?"

"…and – yeah, I am. I think I have to take a little responsibility for my, er, my actions. Yeah, that's right. Anyway – I haven't looked into what Bug-types they have around Saffron. Let's see… There's the usual Caterpie, there's… nothing here? What! Ruki, are you listening?"

Amaren dislodged himself from his articles of study, looking up to find the girl had already left his side to dive into the rapidly approaching forest, releasing Angin. With a resigned, amused shake of his head, taking this facet of her character as a long-familiar one (although it was hardly so), he redirected his rather permanent route to match his new observations.

It was unbearably ironic to recall similar conversations between himself and his brother, with the roles entirely reversed.

Fingering his Pokèball to find it cold and dark with the vacancy of a resident, he resigned himself to a day of idleness, falling into the shade of a nearby tree and spreading the full extents of his plans over the mottled floor, as Ruki began immediately to training before him. They had arrived at a point near the boundaries of the encircling woods, where the trees were scattered enough to allow for antics of a most unreserved nature.

He settled down to work, falling into the thoughtful trance of study which he had been eluding for so long, impressing upon himself the necessities of careful planning before action, recalling incidents where a lack of such had led to disaster, stirring his enthusiasm by attempting to marvel upon the glorious complexity of training, realizing with surprise that he wished inside him to take on the role of his elder brother in the case of his new companion, but using this new point only to illustrate the value of responsibility further, and was thoroughly incapable of concentrated thought.

Perhaps it was because of the grand clamor of a sufficiently hyperactive trainer and her Pokèmon, and perhaps he had been unaccustomed to study for a long while before then, but what awakened him so fully from his disconnected recline on the bed of humus was undoubtedly the waves of palpable joy which radiated through the forest and through Ruki before him, filling her dance in such a way which left doubt as to whether the ecstasy held its source in the spirit of the woods, or within this one incarnate form of its own. And where Amaren was touched by the vestiges of her spirits as she called him to join in the celebrations, Angin, a child most unfettered by inhibitions, given to the center of her trainer's attention, reveled in a climax of her elemental high, shooting out arcing flames which grazed the forest dangerously before dissipating. They could not be said to move towards any form of progress in their carousing, and there the last warmth of summer embraced them as in farewell, but nothing mattered, for the future of their fresh emotion and the path of opportunity and life which opened up before them was most certainly assured; and the firestorm of Angin's passion was curbed amply by the gentle enlightenment of her trainer. And thus, Amaren was convinced, would it remain; for him, and for all those whom he lent a care.

But even as the thought of new glory before them passed through Amaren's mind, he felt a longing to pursue that road and take its glittering expanses into his form, the trademark ambition of trainers, renowned as far as the profession yet lasted. And this faint desire pulled their purposeless displays of joy into coherence and concentration, transforming it into an enthusiasm towards this path of progress. Thinking as though one, the trainers and the Cyndaquil sprinted off to challenge more wilderness, as the morning gave way entirely to noon.

"Think you can hold up a battle, Angin?" Ruki asked her Pokèmon tenderly, picking her up as she ran, and the Cyndaquil replied with an animated cry, taken as an affirmative by the listener. She flared the red-hot dots on her back, releasing tiny flames, and the girl flinched only slightly in surprise, fluorescing in the Pokèmon's energy. She cradled her protectively, but Angin was already jumping down lightly to the ground, reacting to the Bellsprout they had suddenly stumbled upon.

"Perfect," Amaren murmured, "a Grass-type. Good practice."

"All right, start off with a Scratch!" From Amaren's understanding, Ruki was likely treading carefully, testing the wild Pokèmon's reaction to situations.

Angin immediately began approaching the Bellsprout cautiously, brandishing her tiny claws at every turn. It seemed to be that both trainer and Pokèmon were awaiting some explosive attack by the insectivore, but none were forthcoming, and Angin quickly landed three small cuts on the Grass-type's ponderous head, causing it to tip dangerously to the side, wobbling on its stick-thin stem.

"And the head's only growing bigger," Amaren commented, before stopping short.

Why, he pondered, would the Bellsprout's head grow? There was certainly an answer, but it was hidden in the shades of his most unreliable memory.

Equally as perplexed, Ruki ordered an Ember, and the Cyndaquil reared back her head. With a small blast of hot breath, she stirred the grass beneath her to flame, stomped it out hastily, and kicked the still-glowing pieces of burnt grass at the Bellsprout. The red-hot embers singed its fragile skin, but the Bellsprout yet did not so much as flinch, and Angin continued her barrage.

Baffled, struck with uncertainty, Ruki faltered, and her Pokèmon did the same. A period of tense awaiting followed, and then –

The twin vines which held up its two great leaves zoomed forward in a spurt of growth; and, as Amaren realized, Growth was precisely what the creature had been endeavoring towards all this time. The two arms wrapped around the protesting Cyndaquil, performing a Vine Whip, lifting her up with great labour and dropping her back down heavily. The candle flames on Angin's back flared to char the vines slightly, but the Bellsprout only worked with greater conviction, and the Cyndaquil's knees buckled this time as they hit the forest floor. She let out a yelp of desperation, weakening…

But Ruki cheered for her, indefatigably spirited, and her Pokèmon's crimson eyes shone with such a fire that even the angered Bellsprout wavered for a moment. A positive inferno erupted from the rapidly widening scarlet on her back, and she let loose a barrage of fire from her open mouth, the first she had ever released. The opponent quickly let go of her, scorched, and withdrew into the edge of consciousness.

Amaren had been quiet this meanwhile, but now he called out: "Catch it, Ruki! This is a great chance!"

She looked towards him, delighted with the thought. "…Do you think I should?" And Amaren nodded, absorbed in the match.

"All right." She set her storage device, pointed it to the failing Bellsprout, and watched expectantly as the violet light swallowed it whole. A digital meter took the front of the display on the small contrivance, flaring suddenly as the captive Bellsprout shook its confines in protest, but it finally subsided in a flourish which seemed to Amaren to be pointedly resigned. A quiet congratulation, and Angin was likewise returned.

An indication of great victory, and another of urgency as the storage device flashed to bring attention to the new Pokèmon's critical health. They began hurrying back to Saffron, the Bellsprout falling automatically into stasis in respect to its state, and were immediately hindered by the appearance of another character.

He was an elderly gentleman, wearing what seemed to be a more hardy mutation of a lab coat and matching pants. He radiated well the feeling which Amaren had only just begun to understand, that of indoor study, and also of thought before action.

His identity was most quickly revealed.

"Good morning. I am –" he began, but Ruki felt a great urgency to finish his sentence.

"Prof. Kalens Oak!" she shouted, in the closest rendition of a shriek her voice could muster. "I am such a fan of your work, you wouldn't – "

"Er…" It was difficult, Amaren realized, to get a word in sideways if Ruki was stirred to excitement of any great nature. Rare as the case might be…

Eventually, however, the girl rediscovered a semblance of sanity, and the Professor began in earnest.

"I presume one of you is the owner of an Abra by the name of Ytarrik? Amaren Kelanis?"

"I am," Amaren replied, somewhat nonplussed.

"And your team was driven to such desperation as to share minds for a short space of thought? Such cases are extremely rare…"

"Hmm," Ruki signified her rapt attention, unnecessarily.

"… and I myself have only seen such in…"

"Hmm," Ruki repeated.

"… in, er, in four incidents in my life, precisely – "

'Hmm," the girl insisted, then apologized as all concerned turned to glare at her. She dropped the pretence of sanity and attempted, successfully, to gain the actual form.

"I have seen some new developments in the field of –" the Professor began, and then stopped abruptly. "Perhaps we should seek a more reserved situation than this in which to talk," the Professor suggested.

"Yeah, and we need to go to the Center, too," Ruki exclaimed.

Reaching an agreement, therefore, the two trainers and their temporary chaperon set out quickly for the city in the plains, shining in the noontide sun.