My name is Javelin Wataru. For almost five centuries, my ancestors ruled over the lands surrounding Kanto and Jhoto.
Masters, nations and governments long sought to overthrow us, no doubt jealous of the wealth and knowledge cultivated over our long rule. Yet, no one was able to breach our borders long enough to make a dent. They flew at our walls like endless hurricanes, and fell like flies upon impact.
All of them failed… until Samuel Oak came.
And then my family were rulers no more.
The wound of defeat was still raw, barely two decades since our fall.
And yet, a dragon rarely stays down after a hit.
Dragons are unrelenting, willful, and
Strong.
As was known.
By all.
My own sons were past their prime, having admittedly grown lax after the long years without meaningful opposition. It wouldn't do to send them to reconquer what was lost.
No.
My grandchildren on the other hand…
Lance, the oldest, already twelve years old, was already proving his mettle in all the ways that mattered. Cunning towards opposition, with a fierce love and loyalty towards his family. If tempered correctly throughout his developing years, especially considering his already awakening bloodline, there wasn't a doubt in my mind he could reclaim our right to rule in his lifetime.
That wasn't to say I put all my eggs in one basket, no.
The twins, Clair and Blair, showed determination and intellect respectively not often found even in full grown-men, themselves only recently having turned six years of age.
And that was only covering the innermost noble family, the clan had less pure blood surrounding it, and even a few roots intertangled with powerful supporters spread throughout the world.
Yes, the Wataru clan had a lot of fight left in it yet. I knew that very well.
And soon, the world would too.
I would make sure of it.
I held my head high as I climbed the ancestral stairs situated inside the legendary Den of Dragons. Elders stood sentinel every ten steps, but my gaze remained locked forward, unflinching. This may be my first time entering the den, but I refused to look awed, it wouldn't do to gawk like some lowborn country bumpkin. That wouldn't end well for anyone. I was of the purest Wataru lineage, with the literal blood of continental rulers in my veins.
If not in mind.
My steps were flanked by guards garbed in traditional black robes, wearing the same as I was. The cloth used in its making originating from carefully processed high quality dragon leather. All of the best clothing came from Blackthorn, be it leather or cloth. For countless generations, ever since its inception, it had been so. Some claimed we produced the best plate as well, but I myself personally found it hard to leave out the obvious contender in Olivine city, with its industrial infrastructure and many ironworks.
I kept that opinion to myself for obvious reasons. The Wataru elders were rigid in their thinking, and overly harsh in punishing any thoughts that didn't see themselves on the top.
Black banners rippled in the shallow wind which was ever flowing throughout the den. The scent of fresh water and long-ago dried blood wafted with it.
"Isn't this a bit much?" said my twin sister, Clair. She looked annoyed and nervous at the same time, yet still continued to stride beside me.
Clair Wataru. Six years old, strong in mind and body, and undeniably already skilled concerning knowledge about Pokémon, she was also hyperactive and detested the traditional way in which our family worked. She was also my elder, if only by a matter of moments.
Seen from the outside, the fact we were twins were obvious. Both tall for our age with already athletic builds developing, with icy grey eyes and the proud demeanour that came to those born to nobility. We both wore our lengthy, blue hair in aesthetically pleasing manners too, hers a wave down her back while mine effortlessly stood in all kinds of unnatural directions.
We reached the top of the stairs, I numbly took note of the of all of the people present inside, each of them of considerable renown. My eyes stopped briefly as I found the figure of my cousin, Lance, among them, who shot me a warm smile when our eyes met, which I returned happily.
Though my stillness in action and lack of fidget could be mistaken for calmness, the truth couldn't be any more different. I had just learned in a different life how to quell it in times of importance.
It had been as of yesterday six years since I was unceremoniously dropped in this body, without any explanation nor clue as to the why or how. I could only remember falling asleep in my college dorm as normal, only to wake up in a crib not in a world my own, but one filled with Pokémon of all things. Though happy I wouldn't go into a new world completely blind, as I had a decent chunk of knowledge concerning Pokémon and its world, I was quickly disillusioned to that all would be as I knew, already having encountered several things which didn't add up to any Pokémon timeline I knew off. I really shouldn't have entertained the idea that my knowledge would grant me too much of an advantage, what with my existence as a male twin to Clair of all people already tipping me off that all wasn't as it should be.
I really had hoped that everything would be as go-lucky happy as everything was explained in the shows, though thinking about it, there was no way any reality was going to come close to the depiction whose main audience were children. Life could never be that kind, both in this reality and my last.
Abandoning my musings, I once again focused on my surroundings, making sure to meet each and every pair of eyes as a sign of respect.
In the centre, keen eyed and expressionless, sat Javelin Wataru, the renowned leader of the Wataru clan, and my paternal grandfather. There was grey in his hair, his youth long gone. His battle-hardened scar filled face was the only part of his body shown. As was usual, the rest of it was covered by a functional black robe. He kept his arms tightly within its fold, as many elders both in this world and my last one usually did. His gaze, which could easily overwhelm a lesser man, briefly landed on both myself and my sister, Clair. I resisted the urge look away, and held his gaze for the duration. My sister, young as she was, only squirmed mildly in place under the scrutiny, managing to hold eye contact despite her clear nervousness.
A barely perceptible inclination of the head from Javelin dismissed the guards escorting us. The two guards clasped their hands together and bowed in respect before slowly departing, keeping the same posture all the while.
"Please, sit down," said Javelin, gesturing towards the purple blanket across from him.
I saw it as much as felt it, Clair's uncertain eyes, rapidly eyeing each and every stranger in the room, many of which this would be her first-time meeting. She was about to object in some fashion, but luckily, I had the presence of mind to tug her by the sleeves along to our seating. Any form of objection didn't sit well with their grandfather at the best of times, during a meeting such as this, I could only wonder what the consequences would be.
Her mildly frantic eyes instantly zeroed in on me after I grabbed her, before calming in recognition before slowly sitting down.
Javelin Wataru eyed the exchange unperturbed, merely nodding softly once we were seated. There was something undeniably threatening and predatory about the man, the thought only got more and more reinforced each time I met him, few and far between as the meetings were.
One could sit on a throne without being a ruler. All it meant was that you had an arse.
Javelin Wataru had that and more.
Some men cast a shadow greater than themselves, but even among them, I was sure Javelin Wataru was special. Looking at the man, there was something I couldn't place, regardless of how hard I looked. Something intangible. Perhaps it was because of it, that so many flocked to his side.
No matter, I had zero intentions to antagonize him, ever.
Let's focus on the present.
For years, I had toiled, to the best of my ability.
Hopefully, the people of importance found it satisfactory.
"My beloved grandchildren," Javelin said finally. The power of his voice once again made known, like a blade drawn. He paused for a moment, as if daring us to speak up. "I cannot lead if I allow fools to stumble about before me."
Silence made itself known once again. The candles idly occupying corners burned slowly through it.
As it stretched, I quickly captured my sister in my peripheral vision, not surprised in the slightest at spotting her tense, stiff form.
Once again eyeing over the room, I wasn't surprised to see nobody speak out.
Then, suddenly, laughter rung out through the room.
It took me a few moments to realize who it was.
"Decisions have consequences. This I know well," Javelin chuckled, smoothing several wrinkles in the process. "But I do not think it a bad thing to grant you your dragons as you are," he finished with a smile.
"Really?!" I heard Clair squeal beside me, all pretence of proper behaviour abandoned in her excitement. I let a small smile grace my features as well, despite the increasing number of frowns appearing around the room at Clair's display.
Javelin, for his part, only lost some part of his smile, holding off any type of admonishment for now, which I was thankful for.
"Yes," he affirmed. An elder stepped forward then, carrying a small pillow with an innocent looking poke ball laying atop it. He moved towards Clair, bowing politely while presenting it at a height within her reach. "For you Clair, our princess, I present you a Horsea. Treat it well, and you may end up with a majestic Kingdra, fit for a queen," Javelin continued.
Clair's eyes lit up in excitement at the explanation, and I inwardly praised my grandfather in his choice of Pokémon.
Horsea didn't start off with an official dragon typing, as both their nature and ability to harness draconic energies were lacking compared to the real deal. That wasn't to say that they were easy Pokémon to train. No, because as diluted as the blood was, Horsea were aware of their draconic heritage, and had a tendency show no fear or feeling of panic towards lightning or grass type energies which could easily deal a fatal wound to the relatively fragile water Pokémon.
In the wild, they would rather fight as dragons and lose than fight as fish and win, which was a troublesome habit which the trainer had to break, lest they want their Pokémon to enter an early grave in their misguided bravery.
As Clair was skilled, I didn't doubt her ability to steer it towards a good ending. It was a good partner for her, one who I believed would be able to grow alongside her.
She took the ball off the pillow and sprinted out of the den before anyone was able to react properly, effectively killing any remainder of the smile present on Javelin's face.
"…Lance, follow your cousin. Make sure she doesn't do anything too unsightly." Javelin said, voice neutral.
Lance, in response, rose from his seated position and bowed respectfully towards our grandfather, turning to leave with an almost expressionless face, only the slight turning of his lips revealing his amusement over the matter.
"…And for you, Blair," Javelin continued, prompting another elder to come forward, mirroring the one before.
Except, my poke ball was empty.
My confusion must have shown, for it didn't take many moments for Javelin to speak up. "Considering the identity of your new partner, I thought it prudent the honour of capture fell on your shoulders, lest we want to deal with the long-term consequences of forgoing it."
The first sound I heard was the crunch of stone behind me. I turned. My sight was hampered in the murky cave, but something in the back of my mind made the connection instantly. The rasp, not unlike the sound of crunching bones, could only mean one thing.
I was a dead man.
In front of me, came an animalistic grunt and a heavy wooden creak, bending the firm ancient wood that made up the meeting room. It looked like a big blue lizard, covered in dense black fur from head to shoulders, effectively blinding it. It whipped its head around, hissing.
A Deino.
The irate Pokémon.
An ungodly combination of the feral, cruel and crafty dark type, and the prideful, violent and scathing dragon type.
Truly a match made in hell.
Ignoring the monstrosity a Zweilous was, and the living natural disaster that Hydreigon represented, Deino as a Pokémon were already a powerful menace.
This one in particular, who was taller, wider and sturdier than the average of its species, promised nothing but pain for me in the foreseeable future.
Should I leave this encounter with my life in hand, that was.
Despite its obvious blindness, its head zeroed in on me, as mine did its a moment later.
Neither showing arrogance nor cowardice, it was a thin line to walk when interacting with dragons. Chuck in the notoriously unpredictable nature of a dark type, and I was genuinely uncertain as to the best way to approach it.
It seemed my concerns were unnecessary, as in a cruel twist of fate, the choice was taken out of my hands.
The Deino marched towards me in a perfectly straight line, which belied its blindness.
In my past life I would have ran -no, sprinted right there and then, but I knew better, this body knew better. Drawing on courage and strength I didn't know I had, I could feel my eyes steeling as it drew closer, slowing to a halt right in front of me.
It paused briefly, hesitating for the first time since arriving.
Before it suddenly opened its mouth and-
CHOMP.
I held back the curse that threatened to erupt from my lips, making a conscious effort to maintain my stance throughout the entire ordeal.
It hadn't tried to bite my hand off, not truly. For a Deino, a single bite is what allowed them to discern not only an object's flavor, but also its size and shape. It was seizing me up, for better or worse.
My hand lulled in its maw, as it was considering what to do. That, I couldn't let slide.
Flexing the muscles in my hand, energy flooded it in unreasonable quantities for a child my age. I wasn't sure where it came from, but I wasn't in a state of mind to question it.
The Deino recoiled, surprised that it was being overpowered, it quickly took a step back in caution.
Seeing its inaction, I raised the poke ball still laying in my un-bitten hand.
I slowly reached forward with it, intent clear. It had already bitten me, so its extremely honed sense of smell allowed it perfect knowledge of what I was doing. There were times to be backhanded, but the acknowledgement ceremony with a dragon wasn't among them. A captured Pokémon wasn't a loyal Pokémon, this had to be done properly, especially considering its typing, its pride wouldn't allow anything else.
The poke ball stopped mere inches from its forehead, where I continued to keep it.
Moments passed, the Deino undergoing several mood swings throughout, luckily for me, it ended up being agreeable, as it gently pressed its head unto to ball, disappearing in a soft red light as the poke ball in my hand started blinking.
One.
Two.
Three.
…
I collapsed in a heap, unbidden sweat finally dripping while I was feeling strangely out of breath.
Fuck me.
A hoarse laugh escaped my mouth. "I did it!" I couldn't help but shout. It hadn't been pretty, traditional, or even safe, but it had been done.
"Yes, you did," Javelin softly murmured from my side, having arrived without my noticing. I didn't think much of it, during the capture, I had zoned just about everything and everyone else out.
I looked at my grandfather. Time had not been kind to his aging body, it was obvious form his hunch alone. But his eyes, after all these years, still held warmth, with the same icy blue colour as the rest of the inner family.
"You may join your sister and cousin," he continued, "your presence there would most definitely be welcome, though, try to keep the young Deino in the ball for now, yes?" he finished with a smile.
I nodded, bowing both before Javelin and the remaining elders, before moving to depart.
"Oh, and Blair?"
I arched an eyebrow, which died an early death as I noted the severity and lack of warmth present in his current eyes, all of it haven given way for ambition.
"We are at war, do not forget."