Yet another explosion sent smoky wind through Sergei's hair. He knew the outcome of this, and tragedy was seeping into his knees.
As the dust cleared, a Tsareena stood proud and glamorous, while a cut, scuffed, and bruised Inteleon quivered a few times. Sergei could have tried to stay encouraging with a 'don't quit until you lose' mindset, but he knew what just happened.
His Pokémon had nothing more to give.
Very slowly, and with fierce regret evident behind all of the pain, Augustus fell to one knee. Then, all fours. And with a final sigh, a water-type long ago exhausted collapsed onto his side. The battle was over.
"Inteleon is unable to battle! Tsareena is the winner, and that means the match and the championship goes to Ladonna!"
Ignoring all of this excitement, and the deafening uproar of the audience, Sergei hurried out onto the field where his only friend lay.
Seeing Gus like this sent a mingle of emotions through his head that he quickly threw to the side. The Trainer placed a calming hand over his Mon's forehead. To his surprise, this brought back consciousness for only a brief moment.
The gangly sniper warbled something incoherent, still unsure of himself, but clearly intending to apologize.
"Shh. ...Thank you, Gus. You're amazing." The water-type barely managed a smile before falling back to dreamland.
Sergei made note of Ladonna nearby and politely stood. She extended a hand and they shook. The surrounding stadium was still alight with chaos and wonder as confetti trickled down onto the field. Some officials and media workers were approaching in the distance, trophy and other such accolades in hand for the winner.
"I'll admit, I've rarely seen anyone with exclusively a single Pokémon, let alone one so strong. You two had me on the ropes! Thanks for an amazing battle."
"Thank you as well, Ladonna. Do great things as the latest Champion. You're worthy of the title." She was touched by his being a gracious loser, but the young lady was forced to turn and address the public to receive her adoration. The second place contestant, comparatively invisible, returned to Augustus.
Per the Pokémon's wishes, Sergei did not return him to a Pokéball. Instead, the older man crouched and strained to lift up his sworn. One arm under the back, the other under the knees. The Inteleon groaned, but his eyes were still shut and he clearly was unable to walk.
Silently, the duo left the field as the fans chanted for Ladonna and her team. After a time, the reporters and announcer for the tournament intended to turn to the loser of the match and speak with him as well, but Sergei had long vanished.
Many a rumor would start about the mysterious runner-up and his lone Pokémon.
- -
An iconic chime resonated throughout the Pokémon Center. The kind-hearted and gentle Nurse Joy emerged from the back room, and Sergei stood, his sullen gray-blue eyes briefly glimmering.
"Your Inteleon is all better," the woman chirped, but her expression was still down. "Actually, what I mean is, it's injuries are all healed. But it's unresponsive and listless. I think something's wrong."
"Don't worry," the Trainer said. His was a dull, tired voice that rarely dabbled in inflection. "It's not something you'll be able to help with. I will sort it out." Like most people native to Freezington in the Crown Tundra, he spoke quietly and with reservation. However, a long life of failures, while not entirely grueling, had taken away his natural Freezington kindness and replaced it with a glum and spacious emptiness.
Nurse Joy was worried and empathetic, but she relented, bowing lightly before going behind her desk. She informed him that Augustus was still hovering around in the treatment room.
Sergei left the lobby behind, clearing the way just as a young boy—no older than ten—streaked into the center, begging for his Bidoof to be healed. Youth was an odd phenomenon.
Gus needed to vacate the treatment room swiftly for incoming customers. For this reason, Sergei walked swiftly down the hall.
He opened the door. His Pokémon was sitting on the side of the cot, his bony hands clenched firmly on his knees, while a Blissey attendant looked on nervously from the other side of the room. Solemn air choked all else. They would have to discuss the matter later.
"Augustus, come along. We need to clear this room for future patients." At first, he did nothing, instead just staring off at empty space. "I'll use your Pokéball if I have to." With a heavy and reluctant sigh, Gus struggled to come to a stand, his legs wobbling only slightly. A permanent frown on his face matched Sergei's own.
The sworn team exited the area, allowing the Bidoof of earlier to be rushed inside. Other than them and the boy, there were only a few people lingering about in the Pokémon Center. Sergei glanced outside and discovered that since he had come here, a heavy rainstorm had started.
Largely ignoring his Trainer, Augustus continued forward, straight to the doors, and went outside into the thick rain. The human of the two followed, preparing to get soaked.
Howling wind whipped his dusty black hair around as he was immediately wetted. Gus was leaning against the wall of the Center, arms folded. It wasn't difficult to figure out what was running through the water-type's mind. Sergei mimicked the pose as droplets coalesced across his forehead.
"I'm proud of you, Gus." The Inteleon's cape-like frill flailed leisurely in the winds, but his expression did not change. "I remember what we've been through. That was the closest we have ever been to earning a title. You're the one who's made that possible." Gus frowned.
"Le. Inte-le teon."
His words rang true. Both individuals were well past their prime. In his late fifties, the adventure-filled life of a Trainer was slipping out of Sergei's grasp.
But that only made what they accomplished so incredible. With but one Pokémon, they came within inches of winning the entire League. That spoke volumes.
"Augustus, you need to look within yourself. I know you're unhappy. It was a promise. But you need to understand just how monumental we are." This got through somewhat, as the anger in his Mon's eyes softened. "We have done far too much to look back thinking it was all for nothing. Think of how better off you are like this than all those years back."
The wind and rain was fierce, even whipping Gus's tail around. Sergei's coat was hardly on. "My dreams of being a Trainer were vague and baseless before meeting you. Now, we've beaten every gym and competed in the League for five different regions, and have reached the finals twice. Do you realize how absurd that is for one Pokémon to accomplish?"
The older man's partner dropped his gaze to the ground, replacing his self-hatred for sorrow. This was difficult...
"Inte in le teleon." He raised a hand and dropped it on Gus's shoulder.
"I don't know what else to tell you, other than to be proud. You've done your best time and again, and while it may fall short of glory, your effort and talent stands high above my expectations. Not even to mention companionship. That gift might be greater than anything you've done in battle."
It was somewhat hokey and cliché, yes. Still, Augustus seemed to perk up, even as the rain made the top of his frill sag and flop over. He placed a hand on top of Sergei's on his own shoulder, and a smile broke wide.
"Lete, inte-leon."
"Right. That's the most important part. It's always been together." He got an idea. Sergei broke their current connection to put forth his arm at a ninety degree angle. Gus widened his eyes in recognition. "Come on, old friend. We're down, but far from out. We might never reach a tournament again, but there's still life to live."
His Pokémon mirrored the gesture, and they grabbed hands. "One pair, two hearts, equally tempered. Let not they falter, whether waned or weathered."
Gus completed the vow: "Through troubled storms, the partners shine; I your sworn, and you of mine."
Renewed and excited, the duo embraced, now throughly soaked by the weather. Who cared?
"I don't need all that you give me. You don't need to fight so hard."
"Inte-le."
"Yeah, I know you will."