22
[9:00 PM. Mt. Silver Trail. Mt. Silver. The previous day.]
Mt. Silver was as much a living force as Ian or Moira. As the twilight turned to a deep night, you could feel the mountain breathe. It had a pulse—a heartbeat. What could a mountain of time immemorial have to think about? What did it softly whisper to its children in the wind? What did it see in the two trainers that slowly made their way up the foothill? Was it pleased?
Ian shivered in the wind.
Moira was several paces up ahead. She did not look back at Ian. Her footsteps were firmly turned towards the heavenly summit.
They had been walking in silence for some time—Moira set in her step and Ian following just behind. He allowed himself to enjoy the view; it truly was a beautiful place. Every nook and cranny seemed to hold untold life. As the night progressed he could see the Sneasel come out from their dens to hunt for food; the Dodrio tended to their Doduo; the Poliwags and Poliwhirls sang lachrymosa from the ponds. It was a feeling of calm and zen, like a particularly lucid dream. Volbeats and Illumise lit up the forests, and the Kricketune's serenaded each other.
This was a world untouched by the vagaries of man's affairs. Even having been raised in the largest city of Tohjo, Ian could feel the serenity and magnificence of the mountain. There was a reason that both Kanto and Johto respected and revered the mountain.
As they walked, Ian could feel the air get colder, the breeze, crisper. His breath clouded in effervescent clouds that raced to join the sky. On the world below, it was early autumn. The mountain, it would seem, thought differently. He tightened his coat. Moira showed no signs of stopping.
"What are you doing, anyway?" Ian asked, breaking their tacit agreement of silence.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm gonna climb this mountain. What are you doing?"
He huffed. "Following you, of course. Someone's gotta be here to catch you."
Moira did not respond, but Ian could tell she disagreed with his reason.
"I mean why, Mo? Why are you doing this? We have to be in Vermillion soon. Werner said—"
She cut him off. "I know what he said. But it's like you said: it's there. So I am going to climb it. You're welcome to turn back. You don't look like you can handle the cold well anyway."
"You're a piece of work, you know that?" Moira simply kept walking.
A light layer of powdery snow coated the ground as the ascended. Their feet made not a sound as they walked. Snow drifted down without a care. In the distance, Ian could hear a man shouting. The ground beneath their feet began to rumble as the noise of a herd of pokemon came into view. Dozens of Phanphy broke from the forest and tumbled out into the trail. The man behind the herd was an older man, tall, with a long coat. The shadow of a beard traced his face. His eyes were like a bird's—piercing and intense.
The man stopped his chasing of the Phanphy. "I don't usually see folks come up here. You lost?"
"We're just climbing," Moira said.
"Just climbing, huh? I like that. You guys probably got some spirit, I'll give you that. The name's Roland—Rolland Carrde. Pleasure to meet you."
He shook both their hands. "Mo," she replied, "and this is my friend, Ian."
"Hello," was all Ian said. "Those your Phanphy?"
Roland laughed. "Just as much as those Spearow in the air are mine, or the Goldeen in the river. I'm here on some business. Something's been scaring up the Donphan in the area and somehow those little ones got separated from the main herd. I've been corralling them for almost a week while I look for what's got 'em so spooked."
"We can help," Moira suggested.
Ian gripped her shoulder. "Mo?"
"Oh come on, Ian, we weren't doing much of anything at all, really. We'd love to help. Ian's a Ranger!"
Roland's eyes lit up. "Well I'll be a Mankey's uncle. They let Tyrogues like you into the club?" He laughed and patted Ian on the back. "I'm just messing with you. I'm a Ranger too, outta Celadon City, born and raised."
Ian froze at the mention of Celadon. If this man had been out here for over a week, there was a chance he hadn't heard. Moira noticed it too and shot Ian a look. He understood.
"Viridian via Saffron. Spent some time in Hoenn," he said.
"Globetrotter, eh? Worldly man. I like that."
"So what can we do to help?"
Roland stroked his stubble. "Well, for starters, we won't have to worry about the Phanphy much; they're headed to where I got 'em sleeping for the night. Next thing to do I guess would be to find whatever is giving 'em the heebie jeebies. I've been tracking the brute for a while now. Might help to have a couple of fresh eyes scout around."
The trio set off into the forest. The snow was not as prevalent here, as the canopy of firs covered most of the trail Roland took them on. In the darkness, there was not much to see, but both Roland and Ian seemed in their element. Moira stood behind them, like a fourth Magnemite, too late to the party.
"Any idea of what we're looking for, Roland?"
"Something big, or something nasty. Both, probably. I never got a good look at it."
Ian had his reservations about this Carrde, but he seemed all right, if not a bit goofy. He always had respect for a Ranger, and the man seemed more than competent. They continued their search.
"You said you've been up here for a week?" Ian asked.
"Maybe more? Some of the locals put in an official complaint about the noise of the Phanphy stomping about all over creation. One thing led to another and here I am, freezing my tail off on a wild Swanna chase. Them's the bones."
"Why you?" Moira asked.
"Well, Miss, it's probably because even gruff Octavius has heard of old "Roulette" Carrde. I got a bit of rancher and breeder in me from my folks. Guess it stuck." He smiled through his moustache.
There search continued until all three agreed that it was far too late to continue. The found a clearing and set up fire wood. Moira's Charizard provided the fire. The snow had stopped a while back, and the three sat down looking up at the sky.
"There's no one up there, you know," Roland said. "Hasn't been since before you both were born, I reckon."
"You've been to the top?" Moira asked.
"Once, a few years back. Ask around; people'll tell you. It's probably been, oh, thirty some years since Red stood up there."
"Red?" The name on Moira's tongue flew up and into the air. The wind picked up.
"You ain't never heard of Ol' Red before?"
She shook her head. "My dad told me about him, once, when I was little."
Roland smiled at the stars. "Red was a boy who took on the Pokemon League Challenge, brought down Team Rocket in their heyday, and beat the Champion. After that, I suppose he figured there weren't much else to do, so he climbed up Mt. Silver to train and challenge any other trainer brave, or foolish, enough to climb the mountain—so the legend goes. Always wanted to meet him. He seems like the fella who'd sit down and have a drink in silence with you. Speaking of which…" He reached into his pack and pulled out a worn flask emblazoned with an old Ranger logo. "Would either of you like to partake?"
Ian took a small sip, but Moira declined. The amber liquid burned as it slid down his throat. He suppressed a gag. Roland reached for the flask and took a liberal swig. "Got a kick to it, don't it? It helps keep the cold away. Sometimes I think about coming up here full time. I can see why Red liked it so much. Just me under the stars."
He looked over at his two new companions. "You folk are welcome too, if you don't make too much noise while I'm trying to sleep."
The implication was not lost on them. Moira looked away, and Ian could feel his cheeks redden from embarrassment and alcohol. He took the flask from Roland.
Something snapped in the thicket. Ian woke up instantly, his ranger training kicking in despite the alcohol. He must have fallen asleep. Moira was asleep, her head against the pack. Roland was sitting at the edge of the camp. A massive host floated next to him. Ian recognized it as a Dusknoir. He took a position next to Roland. "What do you hear?" he asked.
"Something different. I think this might be our boogeyman."
Ian woke Moira who rubbed her eyes and stretched as he led her over. From the thicket, massive roar echoed through the forest. "There she is…" Roland said. The Dusknoir clapped its hands in glee.
The pokemon came thrashing through the brush. It was a massive Ursaring, larger than anyone Ian had seen before. Its fur was a deep auburn. A deep gash broke the circle in its chest. It swiped madly at the Dusknoir only to phase right through it. The Dusknoirs eye's glowed a necrotic yellow.
"Can't run away now, can you, dearie?" Roland called.
The Ursaring uprooted a small tree and swung it at Roland. Ian released his Skarmory which cut through the trunk like paper. The Ursaring roared as the Dusknoir sent a chilly flame towards it. The Ursaring shrugged it off and charged. In mid air, it locked eyes with the Dusknoir. Its eyelids drooped and it fell to the ground.
"Nice save there, Ian. Alright, time to finish this one up."
"What are you going to do with it?" Moira asked.
"League says I got to put whatever it is making a fuss and causing all this down. It's a dirty business, but me and Dusknoir got it down to an art. He'll put 'em to sleep, and then he'll make it so that they don't wake up."
"What? How can you do that! She's clearly hurt. Didn't you see that gash? It looked infected!"
"They don't pay me to play doctor, Miss."
"Well I won't let you do that." She stood in between the Roland, his Dusknoir, and the slumbering Ursaring. The Dusknoir gave a curious moan.
"Stand down, you old spook; I think the lady has something in mind."
Moira reached for a pokeball at her belt. It was empty. It had been Nidoking's. The nurses had returned it to her. She looked down and gripped it in her hand. "We'll make you better, Ursaring. I promise." She tossed the ball and the Ursaring disappeared in a flash of red. It only gave a routine shake before the ball chimed. She picked up the ball, felt its weight, and placed it on her belt.
She smiled. "Problem solved!"
Roland and his Dusknoir exchanged glances and shrugged; Ian was already headed back to bed.