Chapter 1
Dawn
The damp little cave echoed back every breath that escapes my mouth. I'm coiled up in the corner of my "living quarters" as they call it. My military-issued cot, harder than the wall surrounding me, holds me in it's cold arms. The craggy walls offer me little relief. Especially when they crumble with every attack, every claw, every beam that hits our towering mountain. Our only safe haven for our tribe.
I'm not allowed to emerge from the ragged and torn curtain as a makeshift door to my cave\living quarters. At least, not until they give the okay. They don't want any rookies out and about during this time. Only the elite pokemon are out there, driving the enemy away. They never tell us what's going on. However, unlike the other noobs that make up the trainees, I've been at the same rank long enough to know what's going on without seeing it.
This is an ambush. There is another strike and the mountain trembles, threatening to collapse on our network of caves and caverns that make up our home. I coil my snake-like body tighter around myself, trying to become invisible. Maybe if they think I'm invisible, they'll leave. I shudder at the thought of all those winged monsters up there. I've never seen one in real life before, but I dream about them. What I see seems too horrifying to be a nightmare.
Their jagged teeth, caked with the blood of it's prey. Us. Their long claws, their sparkle against the blinding sun is the last thing you see before it strikes. Their eyes, a deep ocean of hate, threatening to drown it's victim. The beams and flames that they pound our mountain with. And our own sky warriors. Some trained me. Some I even grew up with. Dropping like flies, hurtling towards the earth, never to be seen again. I pray to Arceus that this isn't true. Please don't be true. I start weeping in my soft, blue skin. The walls shudder in unison with me, crying in the pain that the outside winged monsters inflict upon them.
One boom. Tremble. Sob.
Two boom. Tremble. Sob.
Three boom. Tremble. Sob.
...
Not a sound from either of us.
I open my eyes, still moist from the daymares. The leftover tears blur my vision, but I quickly blink them away. I loosen my coil and stretch upright. Still nothing. Cautiously, I inch away from my cot, my tail dragging behind me. The winged monsters have left. The mountain is still standing tall. Yet, I know that we couldn't have defeated them. They're always called back for some reason. I can't fathom why. I doubt even the most highest in command knows.
The flapping of wings, probably by our superior, send ripples through the curtains. I know what it means already. It's our squadron's code for "all clear".
We're out in the hallway that connects all our caves in seconds. The Trapinch, Swalblu, and some Bagon group in clusters according to their species throughout the crowd. I'm the only Dratini, standing all alone amongst the squadron.
Lucky me.
Everyone there heaves a sigh of relief. No one has any desire to spend another second more in the cave. We've been holed up in our quarters for five hours. We are stiff, we are hungry, and we are bored to the point where over half of the squadron is on the verge of bashing their heads against the wall.
Our superior, Herona the Altaria, gracefully floats, gently flapping her cloud-wings and watching over her noisy crowd of little soldiers. She dictates our entire lives. She says when to get up, when to sleep, when to train, and when to eat. I wouldn't say she's a mom to us. At least not the kind of mom that cooks great meals and hugs you when you cry. No, she's more of a drill sergeant. She's still family to us all. Just far from a mom.
"AttenTION!" Her bark ceases all conversation between the cliques in a fraction of a second. Her order bounces off the walls and crashes back into our ears, reminding us of the golden rule. You don't mess with the Herona.
"Orders from the division leader. Everyone is to report to the main announcement auditorium. No exceptions. Effective immediately. Dismissed." We all nod and follow her through the passages in the caves. There are no voices shared between us. This order left us uneasy. It's not the announcement itself. It's the way that it was delivered. With every single order, Herona puts some form of insult on whoever it's directed to. It adds humor to all our hard lives. She is typically not this formal. In fact, I've never heard her like this before. It can only mean one thing. Whatever this unsaid announcement is, it's bad.