Chapter Fourteen: Psychic Type

Sage could not bear to wait anymore.

It was not just the hours they had passed in the forest, it was everything. The years and years spent in the tower, the dreams and nightmares repeating themselves, the books read over and over again - he had been waiting his entire life. He could not do it any longer.

Sage stood up. Glaring at his companions, he observed as they took no notice of him. Alakazam, as usual, was consumed by his inscrutable self-involvement. Oak was passed out drunk.

He had understood why Crimson was chosen to accompany Brellia; he had even agreed. But to just sit here, whilst the old man slept and the wizard did nothing - it felt lazy, foolish, unsafe.

Sage imagined his new friend, out there, putting himself in harm's way to aid their mission. He Imagined him returning, landing atop Brelia, to find…

Sage, stop worrying yourse-

Alakazam's voice rang in his head. But it was soon distorted beyond recognition.

The shattered echoes of his mentor's words, the mournful reverie he'd built his friend, they merged and gave way to something else.

Sage fell to his knees and clutched his head. Ache and anguish rippled through his mind, forming a picture. He began to hear a conversation. The thunder of repeated footfalls. The slithering song of shifting liquid. A cruel and desperate intent. Two voices discussing direction. His mind pulled back further. There was another voice requesting location. The feel of cold metal in the hands. Even further. He saw fields burning. Someone choked on the air. Even further. Something fell out of the sky. It was one of the Skarmory.

"Sage?"

He was back in the forest. Alakazam knelt opposite him, his hands on Sage's shoulders.

Recognising his return to reality, Alakazam remained silent a moment, staring at him. With a sober expression, Alakazam pulled him closer. "What did you see?"

Sage tried to calm himself. He could not. "Someone's coming."

"Where are they?" demanded Alakazam.

"There… There is a group of them… But two… Two of them are coming now. They're almost here. They're coming for you."

Alakazam stood slowly, never breaking eye contact; he stared and stared at Sage, letting seconds pile upon themselves, his expression unsettling and disturbed. Finally turning away, the Pokemon shook his head and murmured. "Your abilities should not be this potent."

Sage mustered himself through the haze, straightening his back and scoffing. "Oh, I'm sorry! Next time I'll make sure not to warn you if-"

"No!" snapped Alakazam. "I am not shaming you; I am not displeased. I am concerned… surprised." Alakazam paused, staring into nothing. "Perhaps all the years spent-"

"We don't have time for this!" snapped Sage. "They are coming."

Alakazam exhaled and made a stance. "I will deal with them."

Sage looked him over, then looked over the distant uncertainty of the woods, then the certain threat of his mind. He weighed it all out, desperately trying to find the love he once felt for his master. "No," he said. "You need to hide." Sage approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "If they discover you're here, if they prove it, if they find you… if one of them gets away. It's safer if you hide. We need to convince them you're not here."

Alakazam huffed in disbelief. "And what? You and Oak shall-"

"No," Sage interrupted, steel in his voice. "You need to hide Oak too. He can't be trusted. If they only find me they might think they've gone the wrong way.l."

"Sage." Alakazam dropped his tone to total command. "I will stop the-"

Sage refused to listen. "You can't be both. You can't be 'Al' and 'The Last Alakazam.' You had to hide in a tower for two decades, not because you're a coward, but because you're just that important - fine. Everyone has to follow you now, recognise you as some kind of last hope, because you're just that important - fine. I have to accept everything you did, and everything you are, and all the ways you act, because you're just that important - fine!" Sage couldn't stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. As he wiped them away, he watched Alakazam fail to even address them. "So you're just that important. I'm not. I need to try and convince them that they haven't found you."

Alakazam paused and stared once more, not disturbed, not upset, this time only worried. "Sage… it is the first time you have experienced an episode of clairvoyance. I know what it can be like; it is painful, frightening, immediate, emboldening, it can cloud all inhibition." The Pokemon took a deep breath and sighed. "Your concern for my safety is appreciated, and your note of my hypocrisy is considered, but you must listen to me-"

Sage flung a finger at the Pokemon's face. "No, Alakazam, listen to me. I-"

"Where is this coming from?"

Sage tripped on his words. "Panic, probably? I don't know! Years of repressed rage. Unconditional love for the liar who raised me. A sense of duty regarding the war you've forced me into. Pick one. Or blame it on suddenly discovering I'm clairvoyant. Or that I'm now certain, deeply, indescribably certain, that two individuals are on their way, and nearly here, and want you dead." Sage felt the tears returning. "Or… or that I'm just a kid, a kid who grew up in a tower, and haven't got a great handle on who I am or how I'm supposed to act outside of that tower." Sage began wiping his eyes aggressively, but the tears wouldn't stop. "I'm sorry if that's uncomfortably honest and self aware. But you're the one who made me spend my entire life reading books, meditating, considering my own mind and my place in reality - whilst also lying to me about all of it!"

Alakazam's eyes dashed to and from Sage, his body all but twitched; he was obviously consumed with discomfort. "Sage… if foes are approaching, you should really keep your voice down."

Sage felt his soul boiling over. He could be the most articulate, self aware and wise version of himself, but Alakazam would still treat him like a child. Like less than a child. Like a pet.

"Go and fucking hide," he said.

Alakazam shook his head softly, nearly convinced but still opposed. "And when they come?" He shifted with frustration. "Sage, you are just a human."

Sage couldn't help but laugh. "Exactly. And they will ask themselves: why would Alakazam, The Last Alakazam, why would he bother dragging along some useless human? And they will wonder if they're in the right place at all."

"They must be following something: our tracks, our scent, it all ends here."

"It all ends here, and you're not here, only I'm here. So you flew or teleported or something."

"And they did not notice?"

"Well you're not here, are you?"

Alakazam sighed, hanging his head. "No, I am not."

The wizard said nothing more. Lifting himself from the ground, he turned and floated towards Professor Oak's sleeping body. The wizard raised the body, and then himself, up into the trees, into the dim of twilight, beyond the reach of vision.

A gentle breeze blew past with all the gravity of an overture. A symphony of struggling silence followed; a twig broke, the dwindling fire occasionally cracked, something shifted in the shaded distance; but the silence, unable to dominate everything, still conquered, held empire over these small sensory insurrections.

Sage was alone. He had got what he had wanted. And now he began to question why he had wanted it. Was it truly his clairvoyant episode messing with his head? Was he acting out in insecurity towards Crimson? Was he trying to hurt Alakazam? What the fuck was he doing? What the fuck am I doing?

These questions had no time for answers.

Deep in the darkening vista of tree and bush and dirt, something whispered. Sage could feel it. He could not hear it but he could feel it. Two things in fact, two voices, far off and complacent - discussing, disagreeing, deciding. The breeze blew by a second time, lifting leaves as it sauntered, disregarding him completely. He was left alone, even by the wind, alone with the two beings he knew but could not comprehend. Oh, he felt so much more than he could hear; his powers exceeded anything the wizard had expected, anything Sage had ever expressed; still, in this moment, it did him no good. He was not sure what they were, or what they would do.

He was sure he could not afford a mistake.

The breeze blew a third time. Sage closed his eyes as the wind flew by him. He felt his hair move, felt the air caress his skin, felt the pull of his clothes; Sage saw the tower, the piles of books he'd read, the meals he'd eaten, the knitted jumpers he'd been given, the lies he'd been told.

The lies he'd been told.

The lessons the wizard had given him and the lies he'd been told.

The story of his dead parents.

The war.

The lies he'd been told.

As Sage opened his eyes, he noticed a small figure stepping out from the shadows. It moved with cautious confidence - not sneaking, not stumbling - carefully striding, a swagger under constraint.

Sage solidified his stance - clenching his fists and fixing his gaze on the figure.

Continuing to approach, Sage quickly discerned it. It was a Pokemon, about four feet tall and dressed in a busted black suit with a loose fuchsia had two long ears and a jagged tail, huge eyes and stubby paws. Though mostly covered in yellow fur, a few black patches tipped its extremities, while two red circles highlighted its cheeks.

Sage thought he had seen images resembling this creature… this Pokemon… somewhere in his books… He was almost certain, But it did not help him now.

The Pokemon did not stop, striding carefully, saying nothing. Sage felt his senses struggling; some were trying to reach out, trying to find the second, hidden creature; the rest were focusing on this sandy interloper and all the danger they implied.

He tried to concentrate on the being at hand.

At the very edge of the fire's reach, where the ochre light met stygian darkness, perhaps ten metres away, the creature stopped. It tried to fix its tie, straighten its suit, check the damage to its shoes. Now illuminated, it had immediately focused on itself - and Sage could feel its insecurity. He felt its uncertainty and preoccupation. He felt its ragged hope and desperation. He felt…

Sage felt his powers growing.

His rage and pain and bewilderment, his embarrassment - everything the wizard had taught him and Alakazam had told him - it all folded in on itself. And now, facing this creature… Sage felt the soul of his clairvoyance, the logic of his pyromancy, the language of his forced sedation… He understood what he was. And suddenly, he realised he had so much more inside him.

"Howdy!" exclaimed the Pokemon. "What are we doing here?"

Sage could taste its condescension. He acted over it. "I'm… I'm just here… I was walking and looking for a place to camp. I decided to camp here."

The Pokemon raised an eyebrow. "Where's your camping gear?"

"I didn't bring gear."

Sage had not hesitated, and the Pokemon was knocked off balance.

Taking control of the silence, Sage pushed. "Who are you? Are you with the government?"

"I a…" The Pokemon laughed, nervously adjusting its tie once more. "I am… I am Officer Taylor Tales of the FAC, here deputised under the Federal Reclamaning Act…" The Pokemon cursed under its breath. "Reclamation Act. That doesn't matter. Why didn't you bring gear?"

Sage did his best to smile against his fear. "I like to sleep in nature."

"You like to sleep in nature…" Taylor looked around the camp without stepping forward. "Looks like someone else might have been here before you."

"Yeah."

Sage played the idiot effortlessly.

"Yeah…" he repeated. " I was thinking the same thing before you got here. I didn't even light that fire." Sage scratched his head and frowned. "I just thought if someone else had been here then it must be safe."

Taylor Tales thought that over. And as the Pokemon gave pause, Sage felt his instinct and adrenaline give way. Fear began to build in him. Questions began to surface. Images appeared.

If Alakazam and Brellia could do what they could do…

What was Taylor Tales capable of?

"I don't believe you," said Taylor, realising Sage's fears. "Where are the others?"

Sage could only double down. "What others?"

Taylor smirked and squared his shoulders; the Pokemon stepped forward. "Where are the others?"

The Pokemon kept coming, and Sage once again, let his fear turn to panic. "There… There are no…" he stumbled, feeling his panic contort and calcify. The pattern was not done repeating. Sage's panic became frustration, "Look, I don't know, I'm-" That frustration became anger. "Mr Tales, I haven't done anything wrong!" That anger was the source of his power. "Where are your others?!"

Taylor finally stopped. He froze with one eyebrow raised, his mouth half open, and disconcersion all about him. "My others?" he asked, failing to hold onto his authority. "Kid, I'm the one asking the questions."

Sage let the rage churn inside him. "Evidently not. I just asked a question. I'll ask it again. Where are your others?"

Taylor's right ear twitched. "I… I don't want to hurt you, kid. But I will if you keep-"

"Keep what?"

The Pokemon growled, its whole face tensing. "Alright, fuck you." Taylor closed his eyes and flicked his tail, cracking open the air. The sound of thunder flooded the forest and bludgeoned Sage's ears. A violent, fracturing arm of white light surged towards him. All Sage could do was put out his hand and will his own safety.

A nearby tree shattered and burst into flame.

The arc of electricity had bounced off Sage's hand and flew into the forest. It seemed his will had granted him his safety. He had felt it too. Sage had felt the force that deflected the lightning; he had felt it come from him, and he still felt it, under his control.

Taylor looked on with total shock and abject horror. "That…" The Pokemon looked from side to side. "They are here! They're protecting you! They're-"

Sage reached forward, locking his eyes on Taylor, unleashing that force. "No one is protecting me." Clenching his fist, Sage made the force grab hold of Taylor. "And no one is protecting you." Using only his mind, the young boy forced the Pokemon to the ground, face against the dirt. He held him there, and then dragged him closer.

Arcs of electricity began firing from Taylor's body, but none of them reached further than a few feet. Sage could hear the Pokemon's voice making muffled cries against the dirt. He watched Taylor's limbs flailing desperately. All of it brought him nothing but joy.

Sage started chuckling as he dragged the helpless Pokemon across the uneven ground. From one side of the camp to the other, leading with his hand, Sage forced Taylor to taste the forest floor. For nearly a minute he played with the Pokemon, then suddenly he stopped.

Taylor heaved, spitting out mud and leaves. "Right, Nox-"

Before Taylor could finish his sentence, Sage tested himself. Tensing every muscle he had and fanning the flames of his rage, Sage lifted his arm.

Taylor lifted with it.

"Fuuuck!" exclaimed the Pokemon, flying ten feet into the air. "KID YOU-" he continued, before slamming against the ground. .

The sound of Taylor's body crashing into the forest floor ricocheted and rippled. Sage stood motionless, watching the Pokemon, listening to the echo of its defeat. The forest resounded with the loud crunch and sudden silence that stamped the end of their conflict. He couldn't help but bask in it, uncertain and uncaring as to whether Taylor was alive.

There is another presence nearby, watching. Even if you have convinced them of my absence, what you have done is more than enough reason to maintain interest. You-

Sage clenched his fists and growled. Stay hidden! I'm handling it!

Sage, there is nothing left for subtly to handle; violence begets violence-

Begets nothing much at all. Yes, you've told me. Many times. But I can-

As Sage and Alakazam conversed without sound, silence dominated the area. The fire had diminished to smouldering embers, the breeze had all but died, nothing shifted in the far reaching formless shadow of the forest. The world seemed to freeze, until someone spoke.

Deep, damp and enveloping, the new voice demanded fealty from the air. "You…" it began, covering Sage's skin and reaching to his bones. "Only once have I ever been impressed by the actions of a human. You… whoever you are… you have made it so I must say twice. Twice have I ever been impressed by the actions of a human."

Sage clenched a psychic fist around his burgeoning discomfort. Remembering the flames of his rage, and releasing his instinct, he responded. "He isn't here."

A pause. Sage could sense the hesitation; it came from uncertainty.

"Who?" asked the voice.

Sage sighed, settling into the character his soul advised him play. "Look," he said. "I know there's more of you. I know there's a bigger group and the rest of them are on their way. And I know what you're looking for - who you're looking for - because I'm looking for them too." Sage began to walk towards the darkness, towards the source of the voice. "The Alakazam is not here. I think he was, some point recently, but he isn't anymore."

Another pause. More uncertainty.

"Who are you?"

Sage smirked as he scanned the shadow. He could feel the creature pulsing in the void, and felt himself vanishing behind the lie. "Legally, I do not have a name. Neither does the agency I work for. Still… I am impressed how far you and your little gang have come. Especially without any actual support."

The skin of his teeth, the beat of his heart, and the twitch of his gut, that was all Sage had. And yet, there was something else, something strange, ethereal, and barely bargained, something magical - something psychic. In truth, it was this that directed his performance.

"I can still feel them…" replied the voice. "The trail I followed, it still culminates here."

Sage squinted, stepping forward. "What did you follow?"

"Psychic types… I can feel how their presence unsettles matter." The voice gave way to a strange viscous shifting. "I feel many things, nameless agent of a nameless order, and they - psychic types - I feel them with both great definition and great danger."

"What you felt was me."

The voice gave a small gurgling laugh, only half sure of itself. "You are a human."

Sage reached towards the voice, an empty hand with all the weight of a weapon. He heard the creature shift away, felt its riled fear. Sage could not help but smile.

"I also have followed the presence of silver," quibbled the creature. "I still feel it."

Suddenly he felt the mask slipping. Sage had no natural response, and his character, his psychic flow of falsehoods, it began to falter. "Well…" he spoke, beginning to stumble. But, before he could fall, Sage felt something materialise in his trouser's back pocket. He reached for it, giving nothing away, and felt his gifted cover. It was Alakazam's spoons.

Sage displayed the spoons, smirking once more. "This is not the first of these I've hunted."

"You are too young to have fought in the war," replied the voice.

"And you are too naive to think that only one was craven enough to hide."

Another pause, longer than the last. Sage put the spoons back in his pocket. The young man swallowed hard and held to his facade; he rent it open and dived inside; he willed his whole being obliterated in the name of this deception. He killed Sage so he might survive.

"You…" began the voice again. "You must come and speak to Cecille."

"Is that your leader?" Sage asked.

"He is." The shifting mass of unpleasant sound drew closer. "Is Taylor dead?"

Sage had all but forgotten about Taylor. He looked over. It seemed the Pokemon was still breathing. "No. I will carry him. Let us go meet this…" Sage pushed all he had into the far flung soul of creation, asking… it answered. "This Cecille Freys."