The Guardians of Citera
A Pokémon Fanfiction
RATING: T (Story contains of the following; violence, blood and gore, language, and mature themes. Viewer Discrimination advised.)
GENRE: Adventure/Friendship
SUMMARY: It's been eight years since Ash disappeared; his reasons unknown, events across the Pokémon world have risen, and even the Pokémon Masters can't stand against the evil armies of a mysterious man. Now, the only hope of the rests on one's shoulders- Ash. But the boy they once knew, is now long gone, and his intentions... Are far greater than simply catching them all.
DISCLAIMER:
I do not own Pokémon. Rights go to their respective owners. I only own my OCs.
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Chapter 2: Past Reflections- Part One
'HEAD UP, YOU LOUSY, OVERGROWN LIZARD! WINGS UP OVER YOUR HEAD! OVER!' The grey, winged beast bellowed out, curls of smoke in his nostrils. Furious at his winged, orange student, he released a brief blast of fire at the Pokémon, deliberately cutting it close to his hind quarters.
Charizard yelped at the action, then grumbled, doing so- he wasn't overly fond of aerial training in the first place, and adding on his least favourite Charizard in the whole city did NOT help.
It was almost a sin. No, it was. A very nasty sin, too.
Fangüikr, the very unpopular, old, grumpy, Shiny Charizard about the size of a large Wailord, was now his new Mentor. Just what he wanted after he had officially deemed that, this lesson, out of all his subjects, was the worst. The elderly beast's black scales had lost their young lust and wonder, now a charred, smoky grey, and the beast's one remaining eye was a deep, blank and cold, dark cobalt blue. Its under-wings were a murderous, glaring, and quite unappealing red-brown, almost as horrible as his personality.
'If he keeps this up,' Charizard grumbled lowly to himself, patience shortened, 'I will eagerly await the day when I can rip the scales right off his blasted, hideous, simply ugly snout and dump them in the fires of the UnderWörld, even more so than I do now.'
Fangüikr wasn't amused, possibly even picking up on his infuriated line. If he did, however, he said nothing, only narrowing his pupils further (although that was normal).
For this, Charizard had the decency to be grateful. Grateful, towards the worst Pokémon in the whole of Sciarston. He didn't even think such a blasphemous claim was possible in all the dimensions of the vast, wondrous, grand universe, but apparently, it wa-
'STOP DAY DREAMING!'
He suddenly yanked his tail to his left in a whipping motion, startled by his mentor's raspy, deep voice cutting the previously almost silent atmosphere, only shaken by the beating of Charizard's wings and their breathing.
'GET YOUR BLOODY MUZZLE OUT THE CLOUDS!' Fangüikr roared, lips pulled back in a savage snarl, sharp teeth bared. 'WELL? STOP STARING AT ME LIKE YOU'RE SOME BLANTANT, MINDLESS PYSDUCK! FLY, USELESS, FLY! DID YOU FORGET WHAT YOUR WINGS WERE!? FLY! FLY, FOR ARCEUS' SAKE!'
Charizard hissed, flapping his dark wings even harder and faster than before. He resisted the urge to roar in frustration.
He took back all and any gratefulness towards his revolting teacher.
The beast continued to shout and snarl at him throughout the overly tiring and straining lesson. It didn't matter how much he wailed and whined, or how he practically begged for it all to end. Even as every muscle in his body was on fire, and he was panting more air out than he was inhaling, the grey Charizard refused to dismiss him, have a bit of a lay down and rest, or let him take a much-needed break, no mind how long It was, from two to nine minutes- by Arceus' name, the demon wouldn't even do so much as let him land!
He sighed deeply, and his talons clenched in boiling frustration. It was going to be a long day… Wasn't it?
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Charizard sighed deeply, just as he had on that very day, slanting his gaze downwards at the passing mountain peaks beneath him. On his back, Ash sat, talking with Terak while surveying their surroundings; Charizard paid quite little attention to them.
He wasn't even sure why the thought had suddenly crossed his mind, although the nearby mountains certainly had that smoky, muddy colour to them. Perhaps that had brought his distressed memories. Even with the calmer, lingering presence of Ash in his mind, it didn't stabilise his mood at all. A part of him wanted to reach out and talk to the young man, but he reluctantly stayed quiet. At least one of them had to remain focused on their task.
Remembering Fangüikr wasn't usually on his list for bringing up during flight, but the blue flowers weren't any more interactive or involving.
Did he regret his past attitude and actions? No… But maybe, maybe that was a lie.
The thing was, Charizard wasn't even sure himself.
It's probably for the best to just forget… He thought to himself, and it wasn't for the first time, either. But how could he forget? After all that had happened?
The memories lay fresh, bold, and just as horrible as when the real thing has occurred. The sounds of screams, mingling in with the sound of boulders crashing, bones cracking, as the rumbling of rain and thunder boomed in the dark skies, still rang in his ears, after all this time. Nothing, and no one, could ever quell the horror, the shock and terror he had experienced in the matter of only a few minutes, barely enough time to even register what had happened before it was too late.
It was like every worst moment- too much, and too fast. Too little done to help, and too much damage to even hope to repair.
It was one of the moments where you couldn't take it back.
No matter what.
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As stars glowed high above, one Cubchoo lifted its head to give a whiny squeak at its mother, riding on her back, vying for cuddles and attention. The light snow that fell on them gathered on their powdery, cold white fur, which helped them blend in with their surroundings. The female Beartic twisted her neck around to look at her cub, and with a chilly snort, nudged the Cubchoo back into place on her back. She then continued to walk with the pack, coming to walk at the flank of a larger, male Beartic ahead of her.
The large Pokémon, the Beartic mother, then turned to her kind. 'How long until we reach the Icy Summits, Alpha?' She asked, and shook her head of icicles. 'My Young-One is growing irksome and tired.'
That drew the attention of their leader, a massive, scarred beast, with odd, brown-red eyes instead of plain grey. His fur also was quite dull and dark, on the verge of dark grey, but he insisted it was medium, or light grey. No one dared question it. Every breath was ragged and came out in a smoky puff, instead of freezing vapour. His name was thus made to be, and accepted by all, as DarkSmokePaws. A mouthful, it was, but all of them had similar names, as it was tradition to be named as such. Her own name was IceHeart, although it had also been ColdVapourEye, and ChillyBlue. It had changed for her apparently comical desire to chase away every mate she had, usually only one or two moons after they had cubs. Although her heart certainly wasn't ice in any way, it stuck, apparently, as it had for a few years now.
'Not long, Mayra-IceHeart. But contain your Young-One. I am just as 'irksome' as he, for all his yapping and yammering. So, keep his tongue silent, or I will.'
She huffed at their Alpha's response, but stayed quiet, and thankfully, so did her Young-One (her cub had no name yet, since it was still in his third moon; he still had one more turn).
They continued their trek through the night, most of the Mayras (an honorific term for a mother) staying together at the back and quietly talking. IceHeart decided to stay with her league, her Young-One now fast asleep. 'Ugh, by Arceus' name, finally.' She muttered, upon realising that. To her near left, another female Mayra, PowderSnowClaw, laughed softly. Her Young-Two (meaning she had two unnamed cubs) rested peacefully on her back.
'It would seem so. But you never really know, with that little dude. Say, what do you think will happen, once we reach the Summit?' PowderSnowClaw said, while she itched a spot on her neck, relying on the other Beartics to alert her of sudden danger, if it came to that. She was met with grunts and shrugs to her query.
'Well, none of us can be certain.' IceColdPaw spoke up, her scrawny Young-One curled up in her neck-fur, also sound asleep. IceColdPaw received a lot of harsh dealings, and frowns- she was, by far, the youngest Mayra (and some said she didn't even deserve the title) the pack, and perhaps even their whole race, had ever had. Although, quite honestly, IceHeart liked the young mother. She was kind and honest, unlike most Beartics she had come to know, especially some of the females. 'But, hopefully, the Articuno will be there, and they'll soon be back in the air to help us all.'
'Let's hope-'
And speaking of those 'most Beartics', one Mayra started to speak, the snobby, arrogant CruelClaw being the famously awful Pokémon of their pack. It wasn't a mystery that DarkSmokePaws wanted nothing more than to be rid of her, but for whatever reason, she was still alive and, as usual, horrible.
However, IceColdPaw was also quite terrible at picking up sarcasm, and knowing who was a bitch, and who wasn't. 'Yes,' She said brightly, 'Yes. Let's hope.'
CruelClaw glared, spitting on the snow beneath her paws, directed right at the young Mayra. 'I was being sarcastic, useless. When are you going to get that stuck in your tiny little noggin? Pathetic.'
There was an impatient, restraining-all-my-anger growl from the head of the pack. DarkSmokePaws spoke up lowly, his fury barely contained, which showed in his tone, holding back by using a 'sweet' voice that came right out of frustrated hysteria. 'Ladies, if we could please hold back our arguments until we get back to the Caves? Before I lose my shit and rip your throats out?'
They promptly went silent- as did all of them, for the rest of the journey.
Only the occasional shift of a cub, or the grunt of a Beartic accidentally bumping into someone, or something, would transverse between them. There was no need for anything less, or more. Indeed, there was very small talk, usually between their Alpha, and the outer ring of Pokémon, the LookOuts, who kept them all updated on their surroundings and time, and, the weather, sometimes.
And, this only broke when their destination finally came before them. But, instead of sighs of relief, or happy barks, there was only stunned silence, and the horrible, sinking feeling of panicked dread sinking into their hearts.
Before their eyes, stood a massive, black, jewelled Articuno with menacing, piercing red eyes the colour of blood, that spoke only one thing-
Prepare to die.
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A/N:
I honestly really, really need to apologise for the awful wait and suspense… Both of them. One, how long it took for me to update, and two?
'Dat cliff-hanger, of course.
Thanks for reading! Love ya all! Don't kill me, please. Just being an author.
And please tell me that isn't a pitchfork I just saw.
-Crystallion12