Achilleus' Story

Guardian

"You likely know that dragons are Pokémon spoken of in legends!" - Lance, Let's Go, Pikachu! & Let's Go, Eevee!

I am enjoying my last few moments of peaceful silence, as a mug of red tea warms my hands. A stone kettle rests on a wooden tripod above the ghostly-purple flame burning from the mana rock, the only flame save that of a Pokémon one can find in Ruby Forest. I sit cross-legged (or as close as a Dragonite can get) on a tatami mat hand-sown by myself from rice straw. I am alone in my sanctum, but for the plants grown from my own hand lining the walls of the room: Bearded iris, forget-me-not, silver spring, daisy, buttercup, marigold; all growing from the nutrients shared by the tree we sit inside. Life within life.

Maidenhair, kou, dragon's blood. Every region of Ruby Forest is connected by the Origin Trees, the Forest a great living organism, and after thirty years of residing here, its very breath has become my own. Its Pokémon are my brothers, sisters, and siblings; though I was not born a Ruby, I have chosen to become one. My blood has turned Ruby by the love in my heart pumping through my veins.

The people here are tough, true. Cruel, some might say. "Barbaric" seems the most popular word. But all living beings have cruelty within them, and all will let that savagery out in the moment their life is at stake. Ruby Forest is the last place in Itori truly protected from the encroachment of civilisation. Everywhere else is constantly ransacked by soldiers, farmers; these days even Mystery Dungeons aren't safe thanks to the Treasure Hunters. The Dungeons were sanctuaries that protected their rightful residents from nature's enemies, and now they're being gutted like fish. Of course, the Treasure Hunters were not the first to turn their sights on us.

I was born and raised in Full Moon Village, the son of a soldier and a historian, both Dragonite. When I was five years old, already fully-evolved myself, my father took me on my first mission. He would have me become a soldier like him. Since the day I hatched I'd shown remarkable prowess in battle, and what better time to test that strength than the raid on Lindworm Jungle?

Three hundred soldiers were sent. Far too many for a Dungeon to allow to remain for long, but more than enough to wipe the first floor clean. Something in the air began to stir, and the place was quickly evacuated, but by then I had seen it all.

Trees and bushes and vines decaying from attacks of poison. Wild-made homes destroyed, crushed under armoured boots and steel hammers. The corrupted look of glory and pride on the soldiers' faces as they marched towards their comfortable, safe, warm houses. And worst of all, the look of hope on my father's face, as he waited for his only child to open his mouth and say, "Yes, father. I too wish to condemn my soul."

The worst sight of all came at the very end. Near the entrance of the Dungeon, lying in a muddy pool, was a Dratini, with a broken body and glass for eyes.

I fell to my knees and broke down into tears. I was inconsolable. My father looked down at me with disgust. Back home my mother held me in her arms and told me it was for the best, that those wild Pokémon were clinging to savagery, that Dungeons have no place in this World anymore with our enemies long gone.

My mother was wrong. Our enemies are right here.

I learned to read at four months old. My mother gave me quite the education, especially, as you can imagine, in history. I am well aware of the World that came before this one, and I will not allow us to return to it. We our already under attack. We can't let the Shock happen again. The Pillar Oak protected itself and all of us by giving the human a Charmander's body, allowing it to repel the magic coursing through a Pokémon's cells. But nothing can change a soul, and who knows by what method he will attack us again?

Our home is in grave danger, and we are the only ones who can save it.

I am confident that once we've reclaimed our land, things will change. Once living is no longer a war, the Pokémon here will need not be soldiers. We will be truly free. There is a knock at the door. I wave my hand and the vines part like… what was it called? A curtain.

A Furret pokes her head into the room. "We are ready, Achilleus," she says. "Have you completed your meditation?"

I finish the last of my red tea, feeling it warm my chest and feed the fire in my belly.

"Quite, Valerie," I say, "I will be with you in a moment."

She smiles and scampers back to her companions. I get to my feet and feel a twinge in my back. I am ageing, but this is no matter. My most valuable work will soon be complete.

I lift the kettle and wave my hand over the stone. The fire dies. I exit my sanctum, leaving the way open in case I do not return. Someone else will take my place, and they are welcome to my possessions. They are not mine, after all, but the Forest's.

This is my purpose. This is why I among thousands others was chosen as their leader. As a non-Ruby I am one of the few who can open the Barrier, and it would seem I am the only one with the will to do so.

We separate into six groups - I take the northmost troupe with Valerie as my second-in-command. The Burrowwilds emerge from the ground led by Pryia the Hippopotas. The Butterfree and the Beedrill - Float and Sting - guide the western soldiers. Kai the Dancer Marowak takes one of the eastern groups. I'd had Rohan in mind to take charge of the final party, but the coward turned tail and ran. No matter, however - his brother Akira will have them.

The Origin Trees warp around us as we march. The leaves shake and the earth trembles with our footsteps. The Barrier sparkles above us like a dome of fragile glass. Already I can see the crack in the foundation, a crooked smile grinning red just above the Pillar Oak.