ACT ONE - IMMOLATION
Chapter 5 - The Pokémon Master
"Day six. Trial forty-seven." Red noted, the pokédex in his hand recording his voice. "Mawile will attempt to produce and maintain Mist while using a second move. Shellder, look alive. Perhaps you can pick up a hint or two from this?"
Shellder squeaked, letting out a tiny bucket worth of water, which leaked out from his shell onto the grass below.
Red rolled his eyes, before turning to the real object of the experiment. "Right, Mawile, try to get it right this time. Use Mist, and without losing your hold on it, employ exactly one clone. Can you do it?"
Mawile shook her head. Ever since her first day at Trainers Square, her life and training had been irrevocably changed. For one, Red was allowing her to fight completely by herself, and to make decisions on whatever she thought was best. If it worked, so be it. If it didn't, she had to suffer the consequences. A correct approach to an incoming attack meant a victory, which translated to more poképuffs before going to bed. An incorrect decision meant that her opponent would get in a solid hit, leaving a bruise behind. That meant the application of Heal Sprays and Full Restores on her person, along with a detailed analysis of what went wrong, and how to deal with that particular attack better. And that didn't include Red's own training sessions, in which he'd explain what a particular move did and the most common ways it was applied. After this, he would ask her to react accordingly. That, along with constant practice of her move sets, made it an incredibly hectic schedule for her.
On one hand, she could feel herself getting stronger with every session. Red was holding nothing back and was constantly pushing her which lead to a noticeable refinement in her ability to react to situations and battle efficiently in addition to allowing her to utilize her increasingly polished skills efficiently. On the other hand, it was an incredibly punishing schedule, pushing her to her limits. She always went to bed exhausted and would sometimes wake up a little sore. She wouldn't have it any other way though. She was often underestimated because of her adorable appearance and her inherently tiny physique did not help. Bringing bigger and more brutish pokémon to their knees was one of the few pleasures in her life and anything that helped enable that was a good thing in her book.
She let out a deep breath, and slowly released her hold on the element. Unlike Icy Wind, which involved compressing some of the surrounding air, using the Ice element to supercool it, and then guide it to the opponent in a concentrated burst of wind, Mist was based on a completely different technique. Mawile slowly allowed her ice to saturate into the atmosphere around her, feeling a dull-white fog engulf her surroundings.
Nicely done, she told herself. Now to create a clone. This would be easy. She got this. The misty air to her left flickered, as an optical image resembling herself, came into focus.
Yes. Mawile inwardly squealed—
Only for the atmosphere to condense a little, before flakes of snow began to precipitate on her head.
Red drooped his shoulders. "I guess this didn't work out either. At ease."
Mawile sighed, before letting out a tiny scream in frustration.
"I know, I know, you're trying your best. But, Mist is not the same as Icy Wind. You cannot control it the same way as you do the wind."
Mawile arched an eyebrow. Did Red really just claim that he knew more about ice and snow than herself? She was practically raised in it.
"Just try and listen okay, before jumping to conclusions." Red returned, recognizing the dry stare in her expression. "Mist is not related to Icy Wind in any fashion other than them both being of the ice-type. If it did, then I wouldn't have gotten you this TM. I'd have allowed you to perfect Icy Wind and Hail, and move to it through natural progression."
Which come to think of it, Mawile decided, did kind of make sense. Besides, her Icy Wind was getting closer to Hail with every single day of the new training regimen. She could almost focus on creating tiny shards of ice, instead of the usual super-chilled air that she sent out every single time. It still wasn't anywhere perfect, but she estimated that another week's practice should get it done.
"Increase in concentration and compression of ice while keeping the spread even, leads to progression from Icy Wind to Hail, or perhaps even Blizzard with enough exposure and experience. Canceling out the spread while increasing concentration and compression results in Ice Shard, which can be honed into an Icicle Spear with better shape manipulation. If both the ice concentration and the pressure are increased in the absence of wind while simultaneously not allowing the ice element to solidify until it hits a target, you get Ice Beam." Red pointed out."Do you find Mist in any of that?"
Mawile shook her head.
"To be frank, even though most of those moves can be built up from Icy Wind, I'd still get you TMs to save time and energy. You wouldn't have to waste time figuring out the perfect pressure or concentration conditions required for each move. Why reinvent the wheel right?"
Mawile sighed. Her trainer was full of silly little sayings like this. Why would she want to make a wheel? He reminded her of Mabel. Come to think about it, that Oak man she was with was like that too. Maybe Red picked it up from him? She'd have to keep a close eye on who her trainer associated with to ensure he didn't pick up any more bad habits.
"Focus, Mawile" Red groaned."Getting back on topic, to use Mist, you need to disperse the ice in all directions, and maintain a constant saturation at all points within a certain zone. You need to make the air heavy with water and ice, making it so thick that your opponent can't see past it."
Too right, and neither would she. As if she needed a vision impairment in addition to her ludicrously small size.
Red sighed. "Mawile, I know that creating mist will also affect your own vision, but you are small, and thus, easily able to hide and attack in the mist with enough practice. A large, bulky opponent is a walking target regardless of the Mist."
And once again he made sense. Mawile shook her head. She might as well give up trying to comprehend Red's sense of strategy. It only ever made sense after he explained it.
"Double Team is a move used to confuse the opponent. If they cannot find the real you, they have to use an area-of-effect attack to try to target all illusions simultaneously. If they don't have such a move they can end up wasting a lot of energy going through your illusions. Time you can use to end the fight."
Mawile nodded. She knew this. Why were they going over it again?
"So why am I asking you to make a single illusion alone?"
And there he went with the questions. These conversations would go much faster if he just gave her the answers.
"The reason is," Red continued, "because I want to use it in an unconventional way. A move is most effective if the opponent does not know it is being used. If the opponent sees multiple illusions in the mist they will automatically realize Double Team is being used and use an Area of Effect attack to disperse it. Further, they will be on guard for a sneak attack from the real one"
Mawile nodded. That made sense. Though she failed to see what was wrong with that. Making the opponent split their attention and wasting their energy on illusions was a good thing right?
"However if you make a single illusion and then hide your real body in the mist, they will assume the single illusion is the real you. As there are no other illusions they will not realize that Double Team is being used. As they believe they have located you in the mist they will not be on guard for a sneak attack. And then… then is when you will strike."
Mawile's steel jaw shook with an unnatural eagerness, surprising her. Lately, her jaw seemed to be developing a mind of its own.
"So, do you get why are we doing this?"
Mawile nodded excitedly. Now that Red explained it she couldn't wait to get started. She hadn't realized how important these tactics were until her trainer explained them. With another nod, she began her next attempt.
If she can master the Mist, then with her Snow Cloak ability, she will be practically invisible. And with a Double Team clone present…
Red gazed at her. "Let's begin then."
Mawile chirped agreeably.
"Alright, Day 6, Trial 48," He spoke into the pokédex. "Let's give it another try and do your best not to let the Mist disperse. Remember, concentrate on spreading it out evenly." He switched off the recorder. "If you get it right this time, there are two extra poképuffs for you at lunch."
Ever since his initial conversation with Oak regarding pokémon psychology as well as the merits and demerits of independent battling, Red seemed to have acquired a change in his short-term goals. The unfortunate incident with the pikachu had set him back by at least a month, so the obvious plan had been to move from city to city, acquiring badges as quickly as possible. However, on second thoughts regarding the subject, especially after a detailed study of the gyms and the Kanto-Johto region in general, he had concluded that a period of four to five months was easily enough to acquire eight gym badges and apply for the next conference. The next Indigo Conference was roughly three months away. The conferences being spaced roughly eight months apart meant that he could only participate in the Silver Conference, nearly a year later.
More than enough time in his hands to train at his own pace.
Which was why he had given up on his previous plan of leaving for Pewter City, and instead focussed on the immediately available option— the Trainer Square. For the past week, he would wake up early in the morning, and after a quick breakfast, take Mawile to the Square to fight other rookie trainers with increasing difficulty after every successive match. Considering her semi-average reserves and stamina, Mawile didn't have the ability to drag out a fight. In fact, a lot of Reds training involved using small openings to end the fight as quickly as possible. Mawile was very vulnerable to simply losing through exhaustion if the opponent tried to drag the fight which was why, most matches she won were incredibly fast-paced, usually finishing in a matter of seconds. In most cases, either Mawile came out with a decisive victory, or she'd display signs of fatigue, and Red would forfeit— the latter being a much rarer occurrence compared to the former. After spending an hour so at the Square, Red would take an exhausted Mawile to the Pokémon Center, and after a quick check-up they would enjoy a happy lunch by the side of the river. After a couple of hours of rest, they would start training. Over the past few days, they had been studying type advantages and disadvantages, as well as perfecting Thunder Wave and Mist.
On his fifth day at the Square, Red had been selected by Cory for one of the local challenges offered by the spectators, or should one say, speculators and risk-takers who would bet on the trainers while enjoying popcorn and drinks from their seats. Mawile had fought a difficult match against a rather dangerous doduo, where she had been entirely too focused on its number of heads. Once she managed to focus though, she had managed to interrupt its continuous attacks with an Icy Wind to the face after which she rendered it immobile before ending the fight with Iron Head. Though she managed to win, she had used entirely too much energy and had lost pitifully to the next pokémon, a fairly large pidgeotto. Of course, Mawile being Mawile, she had made several attempts to use Thunder Wave, but her reserves had died down much before her determination, resulting in what she considered, a humiliating defeat. Red had been hoping that Mawile would realize she couldn't win while she was exhausted and would give up on her own, but Mawile had been drunk on her victory and far too excited to stop. At least, he supposed, she was starting to be more efficient with her moves. That was something at least.
Red had redeemed his Battle Points for two low-tier TM vouchers, using one to acquire a TM for Mist, while keeping the other on hold for the future. Perhaps in Pewter, when Mawile had mastered her present move set.
She has a strong grasp on Icy Wind, Iron Head, and Fairy Wind. Her Astonish is fairly good, but she takes too long to prepare for it. Red mused. She uses her fangs quite effectively but needs to learn how to employ Dark energy with it to use Bite properly. Perhaps in time, she can even acquire enough familiarity with it to utilize its higher form-Crunch.
He couldn't wait for it to happen. After all, Crunch was one of the most effective fanged attacks in the Pokémon world. Being a dark-type move only added to its appeal. For someone like Mawile, whose main weapon was her set of vicious jaws, Crunch was the perfect move to use. Her Fairy nature allowed enough leniency to use it effectively, even if it wouldn't be with the ease and perfection of an actual dark-type.
Icy Wind was next. Because of her parentage and her habitat, Mawile was extremely familiar with the Ice Element. Every demonstration of the move only reinforced the idea in his mind. Her Icy Wind was already close to reaching a low-level Hail. Red could easily see Mawile mastering Hail by the next two months, perhaps less if she was being diligent. And as a Fairy, Mawile's affinity to moves like Fairy Wind was extremely high and her mastery grew quickly.
Unfortunately developing these moves into their strongest forms like Blizzard or Moonblast was… close to impossible. Blizzard tended to tire out even the more powerful dewgong. A powerful Moonblast could send a trained clefable, rare as they were, almost out of commission, unless it had enough stamina to overcome the sheer exhaustion that accompanied it. Such moves were highly energy-intensive, and significant reserves were needed to utilize them efficiently.
And Mawile had neither the reserves nor the stamina to perform such moves. This was a huge limiting factor that impeded her use of several attacks. Mawile's fairy-steel nature made her highly resistant to most typings, but once again, her lack of stamina and reserves prevented her from the complete utilization of her techniques even though her execution was superlative. One thing that she was doing was reducing the effective area of the move. Mawile maintained most of Icy Wind's strength by releasing it in short targeted bursts rather than allowing it to cover the entire field. Of course, this had the disadvantage of being less accurate, as well as the limitation of impacting a smaller area but it at the very least allowed it to be threatening in battle without draining her entire reserves for a single move.
On the other hand, Red couldn't think of a single thing that he could be improved on Iron Head. Mawile had it down, period. What mattered now was to use the offensive move in defense, and develop a familiarity with one of the ultimate steel-type defensive techniques.
Iron Defense.
Unlike Iron Head, Iron Defense did not simply converge steel-energy over her head to increase the effectiveness of the attack. Instead, it spread it out, creating a layer of woven steel-energy over itself to create a powerful barrier. Furthermore, Iron Defence could be continuously layered on top of itself depending on how much steel energy was used. This made it one of the strongest defenses possible, one that was capable of holding back almost any attack in the right conditions. He hadn't started out on her training Iron Defense yet, but given her partly-steel nature, he hypothesized that it wouldn't be too difficult.
Perhaps I should start looking into it after she's had Mist down.
Speaking of Mist, Red glanced at Mawile. Though she could be lazy at times, she was actually putting in a lot of effort to master her new move. He recognized the sheen in her eyes. It was exactly the same look that she had before she had made significant progress with Thunder Wave and Double Team.
…
…
Make that just Thunder Wave. Mawile seems completely unable to create more than four clones for some reason.
It was almost surreal. As a Fairy, Mawile had enough intrinsic energy to use something so simple like Double Team very easily. However, no matter what she did, the number of clones did not rise beyond four. There were rare moments when it hit five, but then one of them would pop like a bubble.
It would have been incredibly funny since even Shellder was now creating six or seven with ease, but Mawile was a prideful little thing and him pointing it out would probably be too much for her to bear. Speaking of which….
He cast a glance at the bivalve pokémon, who was engrossed in his own experiment with Double Team and experimenting with said clones.
…
…
Wait, what?
Shellder had lived its entire life in water, chewing on underwater plants and occasionally sucking in some sap. Sometimes, it would even get lucky and come across a magikarp egg— well, the smaller ones anyway, since those were the ones that could even fit into Shellder's mouth. Not that it mattered much since Shellder rarely got hungry.
Then, he got himself a new thing to chew on. Or well, a new human who allowed him to chew on him anyway. Shellder wasn't a genius, but from what he saw, Red didn't chew on plants like Shellder did, which was strange considering the perfectly good supply that grew out of his own head. Perhaps humans did not know how to chew on their own hair? Or maybe he didn't like how it tasted. Regardless, humans couldn't understand pokémon so he wouldn't be able to ask.
Maybe that's why Red let Shellder chew on his head and fingers? Because there were too many humans and no one to chew on their hair? Shellder wondered what the shellder population on the river bed would think of that news. Humans did talk a lot and liked to hear their own voice, or at least, Red did. He spent an awful lot of time talking about Shellder like he was more shellder than Shellder was shellder.
How odd. Red didn't even have a shell. Shellder had two of them. Red did have two eyeballs and a tongue though. Perhaps Red kept talking all that much because he hoped that doing that would get him a shell?
It was a possibility. Shellder didn't exactly know much about Humans anyway.
He considered the present situation carefully. The present experiment. Shellder corrected.
He focused his energy according to the strange memories that had popped into it the other day and the Double Team clone slowly gained form in front of it.
Shellder paused as it observed the illusion take form. He didn't know exactly how he did it, but that was not the point. Why bother knowing the hows when he could just wish things into existence? Shellder wanted the clone, and it came. That was all to it. There was no reason to waste precious time on meaningless questions.
It carefully extended its tongue outwards, attempting to lick the illusion in front of it, before it felt its tongue hit something like air, which flickered momentarily, before reforming back the moment it retracted its tongue. Interesting. Did that mean Shellder was able to create more Shellder out of air by simply wishing for it?
No. more experimentation was needed before Shellder could determine the Shellder-ness of these… illusory prototypes. It would not do to have a Shellder that was less Shellder-y than Shellder himself. Yes, this one was a waste. Perhaps Shellder needed to try again.
Poising up all of a sudden, Shellder leaped onto its illusion, clamping it with its fearsome valves. For a moment, Shellder thought that it would be able to find out how these air-made shellder tasted. Maybe if they were good enough, Shellder could make more of them just to keep eating them. It did sound like a good hobby.
CLAMP!
Unfortunately, the airy Shellder dissipated instantly. Strange. Were these airy shellder so un-shellder-y that they broke away so easily? What about the taste? Or would they taste like air because they were made from air? This would require further thinking upon.
Shellder blinked. Research was an exhaustive process. Perhaps Shellder wasn't cut out to be a scientist. Only time would tell.
Another hour had passed since Mawile had started practicing her newest move, Mist, with extreme diligence. Unlike Icy Wind, Mist did not require large quantities of the Ice Element to be conjured. Almost one-eighth of the amount of Ice summoned for the Icy Wind attack was enough to create a passable Mist. All she had to do was to saturate the air to superlative degrees. And she was finally getting a hang out of it.
That did not stop it from being tiresome. Especially considering the fact that Red had asked her to hold and maintain a clone, all the while maintaining the Mist in place. Seven attempts and forty-eight minutes later, Mawile stood on the now completely drenched grass, happy in her belief at having conquered her newest challenge.
Do you think you can do it this time? Red's voice whispered in her mind. Of course, he wasn't truly whispering, but after hearing the same words over and over for nearly a week, her mind had begun to conjure images and words related to her trainer's more… common habits.
All right.
She closed her eyes, nearly crouching on the ground, taking a little support from the earth beneath her feet, as she gathered up the Ice element conjured by her powers. She felt the atmosphere around her churn a little, felt the Ice slowly leaving, dissipating, filtering into the environment. Saturating into the air molecules, making them heavy, decreasing the visibility all around her.
Mist had taken effect, and in the middle of it all, Mawile was invisible.
And now the second part.
She opened her eyes and allowed her awareness to spread out. All this time she had done so with her eyes closed, almost in fear of seeing a fuzzy clone that would fade away immediately. It had taken her nearly a week to get used to it. It still felt bad, but she had learned to face it. Embrace it. Learn from it. Get past it.
A hazy figure manifested in front of her before flickering and started to fade. She took a deep breath and concentrated. The still deformed illusory form began to churn a second time, before coming back together—
Mawile's eyes widened.
It looked perfect! It even moved. RED! RED! ARE YOU SEEING THIS?
How was she doing it? She was holding onto Mist quite easily and not only had the illusion formed, but she was able to manipulate it. It was moving around! What sorcery was this?
I finally did it! Praise me! Mawile squealed, turning to look at Red. Surely he noticed her remarkable progress by now, and there would be a higher number of poképuffs for dinner. So what if the mute could make more clones than her? She was the more agile one among them, and she was the one who was winning matches for him. Obviously, her own progress should be three times more significant than the mute and—
Her expectations came down to a screaming halt.
"...wile." She croaked, heart-broken.
Why is he-he-why is he staring at that dumb thing?
It was true. At some point during their training, Red had shifted his glances from Mawile's spectacular efforts to watching the bivalve pokémon amuse itself with its pathetic clones. That thing didn't speak, didn't contribute, didn't do anything except hanging around like a nuisance, preying upon Red's unquestionable naivety and generosity. She would not stand it for a moment longer.
Mawile didn't think. She took long steps until she was right in front of her trainer. Without waiting for her human to speak, she met his gaze and released Mist in full power. Taking advantage of the visual impairment, she slammed her jaw at Shellder's side with extreme prejudice, sending the water-type flying high up into the sky.
Good riddance. Mawile thought smugly.
Had Mawile been slightly less hasty about it, she would have realized that she had, in her haste, slammed Shellder at the base of its shell, sending it flying straight up. The water-type zoomed all the way, past ten feet, then thirteen feet, and then slowly lost its velocity before the power of gravity pulled it downward, landing on the wet grass with a soft thud.
Right where it was sitting before the above happened. Directly behind Mawile.
"That was really good progress, Mawile. It was almost instantaneous, wasn't it?" Red exclaimed as the Mist cleared up.
Mawile preened. Yes, the mute was gone, and now she could bask in her trainer's undivided attention to the fullest.
"See, even Shellder thinks you did well."
"..."
"..."
Mawile had never really been exposed to ghost-types in her life so far. She had heard of a froslass residing in the higher reaches of Pomace Mountain but had never made any attempt to see it in person. Besides, froslass were scarily vindictive and even more sadistic. Mawile liked living, thank you very much.
That said, the way her face paled on seeing Shellder sitting right where it had been, almost as if she had not slammed it away in the first place, made it seem like she had been hit by an Astonish or even worse.
Shellder slowly extended its tongue, and licked her face.
Mawile blinked.
…
This… This evil little creature was mocking her. She was being shown down, was being ignored, and it was all because of this bivalved little… And not even her ever-precise Iron Head seemed to make it disappear.
Shellder licked her again.
A slow, desperate sob somehow escaped her throat. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't give up. She won't show her weakness in front of this… this…
Mawile started to cry.
The next day
"I'm not exactly sure I understand what this is about," admitted a wary Red to an overly-enthusiastic Cory. The chestnut-haired guy had grown to become a friendly acquaintance, with his contagious excitement pouring off him, and his way of ensuring that one didn't feel overly out of place in the arena. Ever since he and Mawile had defeated Neesha, and started his first winning streak, Cory had been only too happy to introduce him to more challenging trainers with every passing day.
"Think of the glory, my man." Cory put his left hand on Red's shoulder. "You've got a nice little streak going on, ever since you entered this place."
"What's so special about that? Dozens of other trainers probably do that every day." Red refuted.
"That may be, Mr. Insufferable," Cory chuckled, "but dozens of those trainers don't fight over and over with a single pokémon. Especially not with a cutie like that." He waggled his eyebrows at Mawile. "Speaking of which," he snuck out a packet of poképuffs from his back pocket and handed it to her. "Come on, take it. I know how much you love 'em."
"Mawwwww…." Mawile replied cutely, her charm active in full force.
Red rolled his eyes.
"So what do you say, do you think you have what it takes?"
Mawile puffed up her chest at that.
Red sighed. "Fine. Tell me what this 'once-in-a-month-holy-shit' challenge is all about."
Cory grinned. "Well, if you're asking me that much, I might as well..." He ignored the eye roll directed at him. "See, there's this trainer named Ashley in Arena 2, and from what I'm told, she's been to the League Conferences twice." Confident that he held Red's attention, Cory continued. "However, she has this habit of only bringing her starter with her every time she comes to a new region, while the rest of her team is caught and trained after that."
"Huh? Why would anyone do that? Wouldn't training her original team be more effective?"
Cory shrugged. "Beats me. The point is, only her starter is a high-level pokémon. Everyone else is fresh."
Red wasn't sure if he liked the adjective, but ignored the point. "So why are you telling me all this?"
Cory groaned. "Use your head. She's been to several conferences. The speculators are going crazy over her trainer level and experience, especially since her team is brand new. She hasn't earned a single badge in Kanto, just like you. A battle between someone like her, and someone like you, will create odds like you've never seen before. "
"Wait a second!" Red replied, slightly flustered. "You want me, a zero-badge rookie, to fight someone who's been to Conferences? And you even imagine that I'd win?"
"Yea?"
"Why don't you go home and get some sleep. All this betting is screwing with your head."
"Bah! Sleep is for the weak. The money, man, the money. If you agree to this and win, I'll be rich enough to set up a tiny betting pool by myself!"
Red arched an eyebrow. "So I gotta put my pokémon at risk, simply because you think that I can somehow manage to defeat her?"
"Why not? It's not like she uses her old pokémon. They aren't very experienced."
"She's been to Conferences. Multiple Times. Her pokémon's experience doesn't matter."
"Come on," Cory begged, "What do you have to lose?"
"Of course I do, I—" Red stopped midway. It was a sound question. What did he have to lose? Losing would be the obvious result, no harm there. But if he won….
"How much are the odds?"
"Three to One, if you win."
"I want part of your winnings."
"Ah, now we're talking. How much?"
"...Half!"
"..."
Red matched his stupor with a deadpan stare.
"..."
"I can always just walk out."
"Wait," Cory interrupted. "Twenty percent. I'm also taking the risk of you losing."
" Forty." Red bartered. "And my team is whats taking the damage."
"Twenty-five." Cory countered. "And you're forgetting something else. There's the Battle Points to count."
Red arched an eyebrow. "How many?"
"Four hundred and fifty. You have what? Ninety on hand? If you win, you could grab the—"
"The weekend jackpot." Red breathed hard.
The weekend jackpot was yet another incentive offered by the Square. For rookies, one had to acquire five hundred points to qualify for it, and on an average, there was a single winner every two or three months who passed that barrier. The winner was supposed to receive a rare, non-Kanto native pokémon from the square.
"So… what do you think?"
"I think…" Red let out a tiny smirk. "That I might as well see how good a conference trainer is, first-hand."
"Now you're speaking my language." Cory grinned shamelessly.
Unlike the constantly frequented Arena 3, Arena 2 was still a bit of uncharted ground for Red. Most battles amongst Rookie trainers, which tended to be limited to zero-badgers to three-badgers at the most, were held in Arena 3, where he fought daily. In a similar fashion, the intermediate and elite-level trainers frequented the Arena 1 for the same purpose. Arena 2, the giant one in the middle, was used for the exclusive purpose of speculating and betting. Unlike the other three arenas, it had a single battleground in it and was surrounded by a richly furnished seating area for people to sit and speculate over the ongoing battle.
And this was where he was going to fight his first public battle. At the very least, his first battle in an arena with large crowds surrounding him. He felt like he was surrounded by invisible eyes, staring at him, judging him, trying to measure his value. Almost as if he was an object.
He glanced at the people seated up there. There were people to the left, and even more to the right. From the endless whispers, he presumed that there were several behind him as well. And all of them were cheering.
Not for him, but for the conference-returned trainer.
He had fallen into the temptation to get his hands on a rare, non-Kanto native, never seeing the trap he had fallen into. This wasn't an opportunity. This was… a show. A show where an experienced trainer would triumph as expected, while the rookie 'braggart', would suffer a humiliating defeat. And these people were here to enjoy that humiliation. The 'prize' as Cory put it, was merely the carrot dangled before him— not because he deserved it, but because he had been the one who succumbed to it in the end.
He felt like slapping himself.
Forgive me… He thought sadly. Mawile did not deserve this. But stepping back was not an option. Stepping back would only prove their assumptions right. Prove that he was an over-ambitious rookie who'd bitten off more than he could chew. Prove that he was the very person they expected him to be. And this… trainer, she'd show off her power as an experienced trainer by demolishing him.
'One of the easiest expressions of power is to crush the powerless." Oak used to say. Red had heard it several times, but the true horror of the statement only dawned on him now.
Well, so be it.
The battleground in front of him was easily a dozen yards in diameter, if not more, and he was talking about the inner circle where the two battlers would be standing. There were two elevated podiums on either end for the two trainers to stand on, a significant distance away from their respective pokémon. He was provided with a headset, which would allow him to both communicate with his pokémon, and allow the crowds to hear his every command— or my hysteria —he mused. There was also a large screen on the left that showcased the still-empty battleground.
A redheaded girl, possibly taller than him, walked up and stood on the podium on the other side. She wore a kind of crimson robe, or something along those lines. Either way, it was clearly not a style of dressing native to Kanto, so he assumed that it would be something related to her homeland's fashion styles.
This is Ashley Meyers. Red mused. He had been told about the other trainer's name, and nothing else, apart from what Cory had informed him earlier. This is a trainer who's fought at a Conference.
"This will be one on one battle. No items allowed. The last pokémon standing will be declared the winner." A formally-dressed man, whom Red presumed was the referee, declared in a monotone. "Challengers, release your pokémon."
Ashley smirked, before plucking out her pokéball from the depths of her robe. Throwing it out in a rather extravagant display, she yelled, "Ursaring, I choose you."
The pokémon that appeared on stage looked like a massive bear, with several interwoven layers of fur on its shoulders, giving the appearance of thick plates of armor. From the large, pointed claws protruding from its palms, Red mused that getting into close-combat with this pokémon would be certain death unless you were fast enough. Ursaring weren't very common in Kanto, which made him wonder if this was actually one of her older ones.
"Don't panic, challenger. This is not one of my earlier ones." Ashley spoke up as if reading his mind. "I want to be a pokémon master and cheating my way through rookies will not help me with that goal."
Red arched an eyebrow. And yet here we are. Is pokémon master a position one gets by crushing rookies?
Ashley however, was still on her monologue. "I caught him as a Tediursa on the Seafoam Islands. He was close to evolution, which is why you get to face him in all his glory. I wouldn't make the mistake of underestimating him."
Oh, he wouldn't. Red inwardly promised. Ursaring had massive physical strength, and one good attack could cause Mawile some serious damage. It was their somewhat slow speed that kept them from demolishing opponents with brute force alone. That being said, this was an ursaring trained by a conference participant.
And it's long arms give it a huge reach. It will be difficult for Mawile to outrun it.
Red stared at the creature in front of him. It was larger than Mawile. It had bigger reserves than her. It its long arms ensured it a longer reach. And it was trained by a more experienced trainer. How did you defeat such a thing?
He plucked out Mawile's pokéball, and without any extravaganza, simply released her. Mawile appeared on the ground, shaking her head to throw off the effects of the suppressive forces within the device. She wasn't a fan of those ball thingies and would likely never be.
Then her eyes met Ursaring's enormous form.
...shit.
Never in her life had Mawile thought she'd curse her weakness to poképuffs. That clever imp had gotten better of her by waving them like a carrot, and she had fallen for it.
Bad mistake.
"Mawile," Red replied, "do what you do best."
The audience translated his words as telling the deceiver pokémon to play to her strengths and do her best. For Mawile, it meant something entirely different.
Red was telling her to cheat.
"Wile!" She nodded briskly, before meeting Ursaring's eyes.
Without any preamble, Ursaring let out a roar and stomped its way towards Mawile, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but in this tournament. Had she really just sacrificed her life for a packet of poképuffs? What was she thinking?
"Mawile, focus," Red spoke from his podium, his voice loud and clear.
"The moment Mawile met his eyes, the match was over," Ashley said with a tone of finality. "Ursaring are notorious for their pride. Looking at them in the eye is enough to signal a challenge to their authority and power." She paused. "They respond to it through open confrontation."
Right. Red almost paled. Focus. He told himself, glancing at Mawile. He only hoped that her inexperience wouldn't stop her from making the correct decisions during battle. 'Mawile, evasion."
That last bit was enough to bring Mawile back into the battle. Red was issuing orders, but he wasn't supposed to do so. It was her job. Did he think that she couldn't even deal with this uncouth beast by herself?
I'll show him.
Ursaring rushed towards her, its claws bared and ready to strike. It quickly crossed the distance between them, half-crouched and slashed its vicious claws right through Mawile's body.
Mawile stood still.
For a moment, it felt like the little fairy would die an agonizing death, but instead of droplets of blood that should have slowly oozed out of the wound, the ivory fur flickered, before her entire form dissipated out of existence. And just two steps away, the real Mawile stood, smirking at the perfect execution of her deceptive technique.
Brilliantly done. Red mused from where he stood. She formed a clone in less than half a second and leapt back seamlessly allowing the ursaring to think that Mawile was her illusion. Somehow the initial fear of humiliation was slowly losing its hold on him, and Mawile's ability to get the better of her opponent was sending jolts of adrenaline down his spine.
Yes, we can do it.
Ursaring looked up, slightly confused, before spotting the real Mawile. A part of its mind pointed out that it had been deceived, causing it to howl in greater fury.
"Get in close and use Fury Swipes. We'll see just how long it can evade your claws." Ashley commanded, her jaw clenched at the semi-casual way in which the Mawile had gained an edge over the battle. Double-Team was something that was commonly used as a trick to hide the real attack, but using it like this…
It was both interesting, and troubling, at the same time.
Ursaring let out another roar, but before it could do anything, a near-impenetrable mist diffused all over the battleground, enveloping everything inside it. Ursaring as a species, never really boasted perfect vision, since they were first and foremost, direct combatants, and had no use of long-ranged techniques, except for the older and more powerful members of their species which could learn the overly destructive and incredibly taxing Hyper Beam. The mist had created a zone of extreme translucence, which for Ursaring, might as well be pure white.
Finally. Red watched through gritted teeth. At least this would give Mawile some breathing room.
Ursaring kept swinging its massive blows all around itself, charging blindly into the mist. As a species, ursaring had a strong sense of smell, but at such close proximity, olfactory senses weren't that effective. With Mawile's small stature and the Mist enveloping the ground, she might as well be invisible.
SLAM!
A chunk of impenetrable steel slammed into its right thigh from the rear, causing Ursaring to double down in pain, as its knee gave away. It tried to slice the attacker with its claws with a sharp, right swing, but Mawile had moved out of its reach.
Why doesn't he say anything? Is he somehow communicating with her through his mind? Ashley wondered in frustration. As a veteran, she was used to listening to the opponent's commands, analyzing their effects and then changing tactics appropriately. This trainer— Red something, seemed perfectly fine to stand still and allow this pokémon— a Mawile, she had recognized, to battle by itself. Perhaps this Mawile had a psychic parent or something? Was that how it developed enough of a psychic constitution to accept orders mentally? What the HELL was going on?
"Aren't you going to issue commands?" She goaded. "Or do you somehow think that your pokémon can just win by itself? Are you just that lacking in skill?"
"You seem to have trouble dealing with my pokémon's… instincts. What do you have to complain about?" Red fired back, before shifting his gaze back to the ongoing battle. This kind of aggression technique might have triggered a response in other rookie trainers, He had too much experience with Gary Oak for this to affect him.
Maybe I can send him a greetings card for that. He wondered in amusement.
"Fine. So be it. Ursaring, use Stomping Tantrum."
Red blinked. He had never really heard of that move before this. Then again, considering the vast number of moves available, it was not expected of him to know each and every one of them. And even if he did know them all, there was always the possibility that a trainer might use a Move Tutor or something original that he created from scratch. Therefore, the correct idea was to analyze what it did and then try to create a counter for it.
Let's see if Mawile can find her way through this. Worst comes to worst, she'd need help, and if I am unable to find a solution, we'll accept defeat.
Ursaring let out a growl, as its body seemed to undergo some kind of inner restructuring. It looked larger, wilder, and more and more like a thrashing primeape in the middle of one of its classic rages. Its eyes had gone all wild, its pupils dilated, and its entire body shaking with frenzy. It retracted its claws, before slamming its palms and its left knee onto the ground, raising dust and debris from its constant hammering.
Then its hands began going all crazy, and so did its legs.
It looks like the use of forced, periodic vibrations to develop a form of resonance with the ground. Red mused. Almost like Magnitude, but the vibrations are controlled and limited to the surface of the surrounding land. Reminds me of a nidoking's Rampage, only the effects are limited to the surface. And it seems to be combined with ..Thrash.
He almost chuckled, what with the way Ursaring reminded him of a magikarp. A large, furry, overgrown magikarp, and yet, it was working. As long as this… Stomping Tantrum continued, Mawile couldn't get near Ursaring, and thus, brought the situation to a stalemate. What an interesting Move Tutor.
He had to admit, it was a perfect counter to its present situation. It was down on the ground, and the Mist was the perfect cover for now, in a completely different fashion, Ursaring was using the vibrating ground as a cover for itself. If the Mist died down, Mawile would be a sitting duck, and if Ursaring ran out of stamina, he'd be brought down to a humiliating defeat.
The problem was, Ursaring had larger reserves than Mawile.
And just like that, Red frowned, Ashley's got me. This is what it means to fight an experienced trainer.
It was difficult, but it was brilliant. So this was what it felt to have a real battle. But even so, despite the thrill, Red couldn't help but feel that it was too easy. He was a rookie, he should have been taken out easily. And yet, he had gained some measure of dominance against the other trainer. For as long as that lasted anyway.
"Your mawile won't be able to fight her way out of this one. No plan survives the enemy." Ashley remarked.
True. Red nodded. But I didn't make one.
Mawile considered the scenario. From the very start, she had taken command of the situation, using deception to lure her opponent into the position she wanted it to be, before tricking her way out. Just like Red had taught her, she had utilized the Mist to create a perfect cover, before striking at the most effective position.
"When facing a large bulky opponent, always aim for the legs. Bring it down to your size."
She had done exactly the same. The hit on the thigh had brought it down, and the ideal thing would have been to repeatedly hit again before the Ursaring could manage to retaliate. But Mawile had started to enjoy it. The thrill of bringing down something so massive had filled her with a sense of animalistic pride. Unfortunately, she got a bit too lost in the electrifying feeling of being the hunter and her battle-lust had superseded her pragmatism. Instead of falling back and using blitz tactics along with area-of-effect techniques like Thunder Wave and Icy Wind like they had gone over, she had repeatedly gone forward and then slipped back into the mist, to intimidate her opponent.
It was a stupid thing to do. But Mawile was enjoying it too much. A little too much.
That, as it turned out, had been her mistake. Both Ursaring and her trainer had already seen the move and were prepared to counter it.
Never be predictable. Red's voice rang in her head. Since I'm not issuing orders, as long as you cycle through your move pool, it's very hard for the other trainers to figure out what you'll do next. Take advantage of this.
And now, Ursaring had her in a stalemate. Of course, he was still grounded, but he was just as safe from her. Even attempting to get close enough for a strike would leave her open to multiple strikes.
Fairy Wind? Not powerful enough. The rising debris would deflect it away.
Icy Wind… Mawile looked at the interwoven fur. Hardly.
Iron Head would be effective, but one hit from those rocks-wait, rocks?
It was true. The consistent hammering on the ground had begun to cause forced vibrations on the surface, causing rocks and tiny boulders to jump out of the crest and fall all over the place, away from Ursaring, who still lay safe at the epicenter. Any attacker coming in for close-combat would have to face them first.
Mawile smirked. She could work with this.
Ashley had been in two conferences ever since she had started our journey from Hoenn. With her starter-a rhyhorn whom she had christened Jerry, she had started out to become a Pokémon Master. With a team of six, as well as her starter, she had been placed 64th in the Ever-Grande Conference, a decent performance for someone in their first year as a trainer. After some weeks of rest back in her home in Little Root Town, she had decided to go for her next region-the snowy lands of Sinnoh. Wanting to have a fresh start, she had left behind her team, and started on her next journey, with just her starter. It took her another year, catching new pokémon and training them from scratch, and finally, she had gotten all eight badges, and this time, she had placed 31st.
Not losing hope, she had set out once again, this time to the forestlands of Kanto, to try her hand at the Indigo Circuit, once again with just her Jerry at her side. A visit to the Seafoam Islands had gotten her a rather mean tediursa, who had quickly evolved into a ferocious ursaring. She had expected that Trainer Square would be a good place to get her team into shape. Perhaps let it fight against some of the rookies and let it amass strength and confidence before she could pit it against her Rhydon.
She hadn't however, expected… this.
Why doesn't he speak? He's not commanding his pokémon at all. How am I going to counter his strategy, when I don't even know what his next move is?
Ashley glanced at Red's face and scowled again. The boy seemed relaxed and maintained a constant gaze at his mawile. What was happening? Just HOW many move combinations had he taught her? He was a rookie, from what she knew. It was not possible for him to have taught a mawile of all things, every possible move combination. She suppressed an urge to walk up to the trainer and smack him in the face.
Focus. She told herself. He's just a rookie. How much could he have taught the little beast anyway?
Stomping Tantrum might have changed the course of the battle, but it was a stalling tactic at best. If Mawile kept her distance, Stomping Tantrum would not affect her, especially with Ursaring being on the ground. And yet, it was also taking a lot out of Ursaring.
Ashley grit her teeth. How could she had even imagined that the little fairy knew Mist of all things? No one even uses the damn move anymore.
If this continues, that mawile just has to wait for Ursaring to exhaust himself. I need to figure out. She glared at Red as if he were somehow to blame for it If I use Rest, Mawile will simply attack head-on. If I continue, Mawile will stay away. The longer this goes on the more my disadvantage. I need to end this now.
"That Mawile can't hold Mist forever. The minute you see it, end it with Hammer Arm. "
That was when the surprise kicked in.
Out of the somewhat fading Mist, Mawile appeared, who let loose of her Fairy powers, whipping up a circular wind stream around herself. It took a while, but the fallen rocks and debris were lifted up by the Fairy Wind and were circling the Ursaring.
Ashley's eyes widened "No. Ursaring, get out of there."
It was easier said than done. With one thigh nearly squashed from the iron heads he had taken at the start of the fight, Ursaring was a sitting duck. The rocks and debris, no longer held up by the Fairy wind, came storming down onto the large bear, who tried to use his limbs to shield the rocks from hitting his face. The thick layers of fur prevented deep lacerations, but it was sure to have caused some superficial injuries.
Mawile sighed in exhaustion. Performing Fairy Wind on such a large scale had taken a toll on her. Energy attacks were always way too taxing for her. Luckily, because of her fairy nature, her affinity to fairy techniques was extremely high and her underpowered wind was still enough to do what she wanted it to. And now, Ursaring was injured, curled up on the ground, ready for her final attack.
And Mawile pounced, right beneath Ursaring's neck.
Avoid what is strong, and strike at what is weak. That was the strategy she had been trained in.
Her jaws, vicious as ever, bit into the soft flesh, past the multiple layers of fur. Steel would not be denied. Not by fur.
Steel would have its prey.
Ursaring let out a roar, but this time, in pain.
"Ashley," Red spoke for the first time, "I believe you should return your pokémon before Mawile injures it even further."
"Return? You mean forfeit? Never. Ursaring, get up. I believe in you. You can do it."
Mawile raised her jaw, and dug into Ursaring's back the second time, relishing in her own viciousness. It had been a taxing battle, and now she would not be denied her prey.
Ursaring groaned again.
"Mawile enough, it has lost. Let it go." Red instructed calmly, though there was an undercurrent of sternness in his voice. This was what the old professor had warned him about. If he did not put a halt to this now, it would cause him several complications later.
But Mawile would not let go. She would not be denied. Not after all this. All that training, all those hours of constant attrition, all of them led to this. She had won, and now she would consume her prey. She raised her jaw for the third time.
"Ursaring, return!" A shaky voice muttered, as Ursaring was enveloped in pale, red light before it was sucked into Ashley's pokéball— just in time, as Mawile's jaw hit solid ground. A single second of disorientation past before Mawile realized that her prey had been stolen from her, right in front of her eyes.
She glared at the podium and found the one creature that had done her wrong.
And Mawile let out a roar.
"Mawile, return." Red sighed. Mawile was terribly small for a battler and in a world where a single attack from a larger opponent could cause her great injury, she couldn't afford to show mercy. However, there was a difference between being vicious in battle and attacking a fallen and helpless opponent. They would have to have words.
"It's over," Red muttered, before turning around and leaving the podium.
"I knew you could do it, my man. I just knew it." Cory exclaimed, hugging Red by the shoulder. "I could kiss you, you know."
"Spare me your excitement," Red muttered. Inwardly, he was confused at his quickly changing circumstances as well as towards his relation with Cory. The affable elder teen had always been someone he had taken for granted since he had been pretty clear with his situation from the start. I help you to win, and I get paid for doing it. It had been simple.
Now, it was not. Cory had deceived him into entering, what was practically a wolves' den. Though, Red mused that he was equally at fault for letting him get through to himself. He had been carried away at the prospect of winning the weekend jackpot, which reminded him—
"What about my money? How much did you win?"
Cory grinned shamelessly. "Thirty thousand for a ten-thousand bet."
"You were confident enough to bet ten-thousand on a rookie?" Red arched an eyebrow.
"Impressive, right?" Cory winked.
Red shook his head. Maybe he'd never understand what went through the other teen's mind. "So… I make seven and a half. That's what I get, right?"
"Of course." Cory gave him a wolfish grin, before pointing at the little device he always carried around with him. "Check your pokédex. I transferred the money as soon as you won."
Is he just that insane, or— never mind. "So… the jackpot...?"
"Yeah, but for that, you need to get down with me. The higher-ups told me that you can collect it from the basement."
"I didn't know this place had a basement," Red muttered while checking his pokédex. Just like Cory said, seven and a half thousand pokédollars had been transferred to his account. It almost made him forget how he had been manipulated earlier.
"Few do." Cory shrugged. "Anyway, I must say, that mawile of yours is a real deal. She'll grow up to be an awesome battler." He turned towards Red. "There is always the Weekend Prize next week. You are coming back, right?"
"Yes." Red lied.
"Good. Anyway, as I was saying. That mawile of yours is awesome. You're getting noticed, Red Ketchum. Usually, that's not a very good thing."
"What do you mean?" Red asked, inquisitive.
"Well, people who tend to get noticed either catch the tide and move up in our world. Or else, they are dragged down by rich and petty people who want to bend them to their wishes." He paused for a moment. "Your mawile for instance. She's a cutie, and a damn good battler. But she's vicious. If she ends up hurting the wrong person's pokémon... things could get bad kid. Take it from someone who's seen the world. There's only so long you can flirt with danger, before it starts to flirt back."
For a moment Red thought back about his experiences with Mawile at the forest— first with Ritchie, and then with the fearow. Then, he chuckled. "Mawile doesn't flirt with danger. She meets it head-on. And then swallows it whole."
Cory chortled at that. "Good answer, squirt. My bad, I meant to say Weekend Champion. I suppose it's time to collect your prize."
Once they traveled down to the ground floor, Cory pointed towards a set of stairs that went down into what he presumed was the basement. The Trainers Square had been a significant part of his journey here in Viridian, and while he had expected it to mold it into a better trainer, it had also taught him some of the harsh realities of life. He wondered which one had a deeper impact on him.
"What's happened to kids nowadays? Seriously, it's like talking with an old man. I thought that children were supposed to be little balls of energy, zipping around."
Red chuckled. He did know a little ball of energy. Her name was Mia and she was back at home. Probably dancing too now that he thought of it.
"Never mind me, I've always been the boring guy around the block."
"Better you than me." Cory shrugged. "Anyway, we are here. Just the left."
They deserted the stairs and turned towards the right, before finding himself at a dead-end. In front of him, there was a pedestal, with a single pokéball— greatball, he corrected —inside a glass case.
"A greatball? The pokémon is inside a greatball?"
"Obviously," Cory drawled. "You didn't think Trainer Square would give you a Caterpie, did you?"
Red ignored that, his mind reeling at the revelation. Greatballs were primarily used for capturing and storing large pokémon, who were either larger than ten feet in height, or were too strong to be kept in an ordinary pokéball. The mysteries of the technology eluded him, but the significance was pretty clear.
"A Pokémon fit for a greatball, unless…" His lips twisted in amusement, "It's actually a caterpie."
Cory arched an eyebrow in amusement. "Do you have any more theories you'd like to share or do you want to look at what's inside?"
"Here?"
"...right! Knew I was forgetting something." Cory pressed a button on the side.
"What the—?"
A steel door sprung behind Cory, trapping both of them inside a cubicle like zone, with the pedestal still being in its position. The ceiling spread open, as Red felt himself shoot upwards. Before he could get used to the sudden movement, it came to a stop, before the steel door dropped down, revealing—
"Welcome to the top floor. An awesome spot to reveal your newest addition. Isn't it?"
From what Red had seen, the Trainers Square wasn't that tall, but this elevator ride changed everything. It had to be some kind of skyscraper with a minimum of fifteen floors.
"We—where the hell are we?"
Cory grinned. "Never mind that. Just release it."
Red shook his head, not bothering to ask his insane companion any further questions. Besides, he too was growing impatient of waiting for it. Without further ado, he lifted up the greatball, and clicked on the button in the front, releasing the beast within.
The light expanded outward, giving the appearance of slender yet sharp wings with pointy edges, spread out in a ruffed-up fashion. The body expanded into two claws at the base and a long, slender neck that ended up with a long, pointed beak. The moment the light dissipated he witnessed the silver-grey form, the long, metallic neck with the characteristic red in the wings, and the triangular crest on the head. A loud squawk made its presence known, making Red step back, awestruck at the specimen in front of him, before raising its wings imperiously.
And then the beast let out a fearsome screech.
"A… skarmory?" Red breathed, his tone etched with disbelief. His mind, rendered blank for two seconds as he processed the grandeur of the terrifying creature in front of him before his excitement shook him awake. Almost on instinct, he raised his pokédex— ignoring the arched look that Skarmory gave him, and scanned it.
Skarmory, the armor bird pokémon. Skarmory is entirely encased in hard, protective armor. This Pokémon flies at close to 190 mph. It slashes foes with its wings that possess swordlike cutting edges. Skarmory's steel wings become tattered and bashed in from repeated battles. Over time, the battered wings grow back completely, restoring the edges to their pristine state.
"...Skar?"
Had it been any other pokémon, Red would probably have been more alert. However, there was something about the avian's expression that told him that it was more amused than anything. He calmly pocketed the Dex, before giving the avian his undivided attention.
"For a rookie, you seem to know quite a lot of pokémon." Cory observed. "And don't worry, pokémon bred and trained at our Ranches are pretty docile."
"I know—" he paused, before gazing at Skarmory a second time, "—she won't attack. Else, the moment I first looked in her eyes would have been my last. Trust me, I know from experience."
"...mor…" Skarmory was even folding back her wings into place.
"Really." Cory arched an eyebrow.
"Yeah." Red breathed. "Skarmory are Johto natives, and they are very, very fast. Their bodies are literally encased in steel. Its skin produces an organo-metallic alloy that holds within it, all the properties of steel, without its immense weight, allowing Skarmory to be quite light despite their rather heavy appearance. With its aerodynamic form and the sharp edges of its steel wings, skarmory are efficient aerial combatants and terrifying predators."
Even Skarmory tilted her head at that.
"Point taken," Cory muttered, blinking at the information he had just been fed with. "I'll just… allow you to mingle with each other, eh?"
"Yeah, back at the ranch, the old man worked with a skarmory once. But this one is really magnificent" Red swallowed, before turning towards the Skarmory.
"Uhm, hi. I'm Red."
"Skar!"
"Right, Skar. Well, nice to meet you."
"Skar!"
"So, I'm a trainer, and well, the Trainer Square gave me your greatball. I guess what I want to say is…"—Well, it might be dangerous to tell Skarmory that I'm essentially its new owner. Having Mawile out would be the safer option.
"Mor?" Skarmory continued to watch as Red plucked out another pokéball, wondering where this was going.
"Excuse me. Wait a second." He stepped back, before pressing the release button, allowing her out and—
"OH FUCK IT! MAWILE! DON'T BITE!"
But Mawile would not listen. She had been refused her prey, first by that other human, and then by Red. Obviously, using her steel jaw was out of the picture, but her frontal teeth were more than enough for the message to sink in.
Skarmory watched the entire thing with an amused expression. So this was her hoard. That was her master, and the little one was probably his companion so far. It seemed cute, which was probably why her master kept it along. Nevertheless, her master was part of her hoard, so the little creature was probably in it as well.
It would definitely be interesting.
Meanwhile, unaware of her thoughts, Red was finally able to get Mawile to stop biting into him. "Come on, we have a bigger issue at hand. Just look to your right."
Mawile did not care. Even if she'd be gifted with a basket of poképuffs, she'd have her revenge over her— No wait, she'd get the poképuffs and then return back to —and what the hell was screeching over—
"WILEMAWILE!" She yelped, rushing behind Red's jeans to save itself from the vicious avian.
Red sweatdropped.
"Skarmory is going to be our newest friend… probably. She might have some questions, probably about me. I guess you'd be the best to answer them." The cynical part of him casually commented that Mawile was probably irritated, and could easily just say something wrong intentionally, just to spite him, but he ruthlessly ignored that.
Skarmory screeched again, this time with an interrogative tone, her eyes meeting Mawile's.
"...wile!" Mawile muttered under her breath, before picking up some courage, and leaving the protective sheath that was her trainer's jeans, and bravely stepped out. Perhaps they could come to an arrangement that would end in her not being cut open and eaten?
The avian screeched again.
"...wile!" Mawile replied, this time letting out a sigh, before describing something rather animatedly. Red didn't exactly understand what it was, but it involved a lot of hand-signs, a lot of sighs and a lot of bright wide-eyed expressions. There were also several smirks thrown in, with a lot of dreamy-eyed looks. From what he could ascertain, nothing had yet gotten Skarmory to become aggressive.
I wonder what they are talking about.
Skarmory squawked, and for a moment, Red felt that she was amused by something. Considering the frown on Mawile's face, they were probably disagreeing over something. He wondered if bringing Mawile out was a good idea or a bad one.
"WILE!" Mawile retorted at something with surprising aggression, causing Red to start worrying about their mutual safety. Then, Skarmory pushed herself into Red's personal space and clicked the greatball with her beak. With another flash of red light, Skarmory was back inside it.
"Well, that was anticlimactic," Red muttered. "What was that about, Mawile?"
Mawile shrugged, putting up her best 'I have no idea what you are talking about' expression.
"Of course you don't," Red muttered.
Crisis averted, and no blood spilled, Red had graciously thanked Cory for the gift and hadn't wasted a moment to get down from the building. Not trusting his feet, he had taken a quick taxi to the Pokémon Center, while Mawile, being remarkably uninjured from her battle, had returned to caring for her cherry-blossom tree, which was currently lying upside-down along the windowpane.
Wait. There was something wrong with that.
"Mawile? Why is the cherry-blossom out of the pot? I thought you were taking care of the tree."
The piece of mud that came flying towards him in answer was enough to stop him from asking further questions. Besides, all she was doing was dropping all the mud on the floor. Perhaps she had a change in mind or something? Well as long as she cleaned up afterward, it would probably be fine. He was far too excited with his new pokémon to worry about what she was doing at the moment
He ignored Mawile's eccentricities and returned to gaze at the greatball in his hand. Then, as if struck with a touch of inspiration, he instantly scanned it using the Dex, allowing the monotonous, mechanical voice to reveal its findings.
This Skarmory is female. Known Move set: Peck, Flash, Wing Attack, Iron Head and Steel Wing. Abilities: Keen Eye and Sturdy.
This was getting better and better. Two abilities? Having the potential for two abilities wasn't uncommon in the pokémon world, but this usually translated to having a single ability and a hidden ability that manifested under certain conditions. Having two abilities from the very start, though— that was a rather uncommon thing. This Skarmory must have had powerful parents.
He checked in for more information.
Keen Eye. Increases visual perception significantly. Allows accurate vision through terrain changes that impair sight such as sandstorms or hail.
Sturdy. A byproduct of Skarmory's body physiology. The layer of metal on the body surface is constantly regenerated from the inside, keeping Skarmory in shape despite the constant erosion on the surface. It significantly decreases the possibility of death, which is why most Skarmory live for several centuries.
This Skarmory was Gold with a capital G. With its abilities, even a low-powered Wing Attack would cause significant damage. Add that to Skarmory's own speed and her natural steel-typing, a Steel Wing attack from a significantly high dive would possibly cause more damage than a head-on Hyper Beam. He could see the implications in front of his very eyes. With Mawile and her versatility and deceit, and Skarmory's speed, defense, and offense, the whole world would tremble and fall down to their knees as Red Ketchum would tower above them. Especially if Ashley was the kind of trainer who participated in Conferences.
Fear me, Indigo League. I'm coming to violate you.
During all this while, Mawile, who had turned to glance at her trainer, seemed to be edging away slightly further and further as her trainer's face seemed to turn all maniacal before he literally began to salivate. Seriously, wasn't hyper-salivation indicative of mental illness? Perhaps Red had been a little too damaged from the electrocution back then. Maybe that's why he insisted on keeping that useless mute and allowed it to tag along.
She looked at Skarmory's greatball in Red's hand. From what she had guessed, the avian was a fine battler. Perhaps between her and Skarmory, Red would be too engrossed to notice the useless Shellder? If that was the case, then it would be really easy to get rid of it.
Yes, fighting at the Square did come with its own share of advantages.
Her jaw shook slightly.
Mawile widened her eyes. Even her jaw seemed to agree with her now.
This was getting beyond ridiculous.
Meanwhile in Pallet Town.
"Defarge, I didn't hope to encounter the bureaucrat twice in the same week." Oak started the impending conversation, stepping into the parlor. He had heard the bell ring, and Delia, who had returned just a day ago, had mentioned that there was someone from the League there to visit him, but he had likely thought that it was probably one of Lance's henchmen, trying to sell him the job of the First of the Elite Four.
"We got some leads on your complaint. Divan thought it would be best if I gave you the message personally, since well… it came from you."
Oak ignored the slight headache that was just beginning to form. And people thought he was being childish when he gave up his throne. Anything was more bearable than having to make endless conversations with politicians who couldn't touch their nose without twisting their hands around their necks. Maybe there was some kind of curse involved. Possibly mind-manipulation, he'd have to look into it.
"What about it? I thought it was a simple issue. Has the boy testified?"
"Mr. Kent has been unavailable from the very day you registered the complaint. In fact, his last presence was at Pallet Town Pokécare, the very evening you made the complaint."
"Healing his pokémon, I believe?"
"Exactly. The details weren't clear, but from what the nurses were able to reveal, his pokémon were in a state of extreme injury. There had also been a submission of four thousand pokédollars at that institution by Kent for healing his pokémon."
"Were they treated?"
Defarge scowled at that. "So far the records are fairly straight. It is after this point that things become slightly… odd."
Oak tilted his head slightly. "How?"
"From what the nurses and other medical staff told us, his team had been placed under the care of a certain Dr. Pym. But when our warrant officer reached there for inquiry, there was no trace of him whatsoever. Every single staff member swore up and down that they not only knew Pym, but that they had worked with him for years, and knew him to be a very good man, but none of the records show any mention of a Doctor Pym at all."
"What do you mean there was no mention of—?"
"Exactly what I said," Defarge muttered with a scowl. "The situation is odd, which is probably why Divan asked me to bring you up to date in person. Everyone in the staff apparently trusted Pym like hell, but when asked, they could not provide even a general picture of the man. It was almost like their memories had been—"
"Manipulated?" Oak finished. "But where does Ritchie Kent come in all of this?"
Defarge shook his head. "I haven't the slightest idea. Whoever this Dr. Pym is, it is presumably correct that Ritchie Kent was last seen with him. Sometime during the early hours of the morning, Mr. Kent's pokémon had been transferred to another facility, on Pym's orders, for better treatment. Ritchie Kent had been spotted leaving the clinic sometime before that."
"I hardly think someone would go through something so diabolical as memory-manipulation to simply kidnap a rookie trainer and his pokémon, if that is indeed the case." Oak frowned. "There is something more than this. Something that is not clear."
Defarge agreed. "We ran a check on the official database. There is no mention of a Doctor Pym anywhere. He did not ever exist. The closest we found was a Dr. Hank Pym serving as Administrator at the Harvey Medical Institute in north Johto some hundred and seventy years ago."
"Put me through to Lance. If I give him a direct request, he might sanction a memory check on the medics. That might get us somewhere." Oak suggested. The idea of someone performing sinister activities so close to home deeply perturbed the old man.
Have I gotten so feeble-minded that I miss what is right under my nose?
"We already did that. Davin acquired permission for that. Lady Sabrina's alakazam performed the scans. There was nothing. Their minds retain traces of information about how well they know Dr. Pym. I believe Lady Sabrina's exact words were— 'it is like watching a disc replay over and over for a year. A little information repeated over and over so much that it occupies a significant part of their memory.'
"And now Ritchie Kent is with him," Oak muttered, wondering if his report had pushed the young man into taking a decision he'd come to regret.
"Whatever Mr. Kent's dealings are with this Pym character, the Trainer ID suspension charge on him has been suspended temporarily. Davin thinks it might make Kent show up, and answer a couple of our questions."
"Let me know if there is any information on that. I'll… work on the increased safety of Pallet Town." Oak sighed. He'd been doing that a lot lately.
"Davin suspected you would. Nevertheless, I'm told that we have a standing order for two Ace trainers to be transferred to Pallet by the end of the week. You are requested to work alongside them."
Oak nodded. For some reason, the word Pym kept repeating itself over and over in his mind. It was almost as if it was something he had once known but chosen to forget. But that was certainly not possible. After all, nothing in the database even mentioned a man called Pym, and Oak himself had a near-photographic memory.
Don't worry about it. Oak told himself. He's just another criminal. Bit strange, but you've dealt with plenty of his type.
Everything is going to be just fine.
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