Hero of Akrat
3
Saturday, April 29th, 1989
The sun scorched the roofs of the houses running along the roads of Fehahra. Tak Bryson walked on the cobbles—the sun's reflection on the windows of the stone brick houses. He glanced at the wooden door frames. I pray to darkrai that the sun's rays do not ignite them. That runt, what in darkai's name was he doing? Pierre would never have broken the law. As for the Spitz boy, it was probably his idea in the first place. Why do I bother? All he has done since the Elkran got here is cause trouble. Tak pushed open the office door and cautiously approached the receptionist. As his short black hair cooled a little from the sun he stared at her with dim grey eyes.
"Bryson. Here for the two runts which caused all the commotion last night," Tak said. He pulled on the ring on his left hand, twisting and playing with it, refusing to look at his reflection in the glass.
Tomilson stepped out into the corridor. "Hello, Mr. B'yson, sorry, Bryson. I take it you are here for your two sons? Hames was still asleep around ten minutes ago. Kitiku has been up all night being sick. Sutton is with him now. Come." He beckoned and buried his hands into his pockets. "Pardon me for saying, but you look very much like your son – Kitiku – not James."
Tak nodded. "Shame he is such a weak boy." He looked at the wanted poster on the noticeboard of Hanson Rei. The man's twisted grin left Tak wanting to crack his knuckles. "Any luck hunting Rei or any Spitz?"
"Not a single one. The reward money is good, but the execution I am not so sure about. I guess that is why they are sending a new captain to Fehahra. After all, that is where Hanson Rei and Carla Spitz lived. I guess you must have known them. This new captain is supposedly one of the best battlers to ever exist in Elktan. Elite Lord Piscar chose him, himself."
Tak shrugged. Thank you, Tomilson. Now I know I need to be on my guard. This new captain must want to follow Elite Lord Piscar's orders to the letter and be a real stickler for the laws. If he finds out about me… damn it, if he has sent Captain of the Elkran guard, Lord Jackson… He leaned back against the wall and glanced into the cells. "I don't have the money to pay the fine, so…"
"We will write it off, don't worry. These kids, trouble they may be, but malicious? No. I don't think so." Sutton smiled, his hand on Kitiku's back. You don't cope well with stress, do you, Kitiku? He stood up, his tie hanging undone around his neck. His shirt was untucked, the stench of vomit rising from it. "You should get them home."
A reluctant sigh escaped Tak's breath. "I don't have the time. I am here to bail them, and then I must go to work." His eyes drifted to James, who looked up at him with a sleepy gaze. "You two, go home. I will deal with you later. You can't keep doing shit like this, James and Kitiku, you are such a disappointment. When the new captain comes… Come, James, Kitiku."
James's eyes dimmed and he stepped outside onto the cobbles. New captain, huh? Another bothersome Elkran to deal with. He will stick more laws on us like the dictating waste of space every single Elkran does. They are evil heretics. They will force their religion on us and their language. Only Madison can save us, but that wicked man, Lord Piscar, will try and kill him too. Piscar has already exterminated every charizard, charmeleon and charmander in Coltar. James looked down at his hands as he walked along the scorching streets. He closed his fists. They want to kill me for what he did for what she did.
The warm Colran heat dragged on, beaming down on them hotter and hotter for every minute they walked. Seeing the milkwoman had walked down the street, left James's throat feeling scratchy. He noticed Tak holding Kitiku by his shirt collar and knocking on the door.
The door creaked, and a fair-skinned lady with wavy brown hair looked at James and Kitiku. "Oh, cresselia, are you two okay?" She reached over, wrapping her arms around Kitiku. "You two are grounded. What would I do if something happened to you, baby?" She pressed her hand against Kitiku's head. "Kuti, are you not feeling well sweetie? Go upstairs and get some rest."
"Nashe, there is going to be a new captain, and it will probably be him. Lord Jackson. Take care of these two until I get home. I will deal with them later." Tak slammed the door behind him.
Nashe sighed. "I need to go to work too.", and ushered James and Kitiku inside. "Room now, both of you." She adjusted her short-sleeved white shirt and barmaid apron. "I have to go. Behave."
James trailed up the steps and opened the first door on the left at the top of the stairs. His eyes caught a glimpse of Pierre's shield and blade hanging on the wall. Why did you die? You were like a brother to me. Kuti doesn't realise how lucky he was to have a brother.
"My head still spins, but… I really want to get back out there. Besides, Sutton is a lousy cheating Elktan jerk. He punched me in the face instead of battling me." James turned to Kitiku, who was searching his draw. "Kuti, you got to agree with me."
Kitiku faced James. His gaze, however, locked on the newspaper on his bed. "I-I don't t-think it's a g-good idea t-to cause t-trouble. Y-you heard my d-dad."
"He isn't my dad. They killed my dad, just like how they executed Pierre with no mercy." James grabbed the wooden step and pulled himself onto the top bunk. He laid down on the bed, and pressed his legs against the ceiling. The small room's roof was low enough for James's knees to have to be bent when pressing against the ceiling.
Kitiku's legs trembled as he sat on his bed, taking the newspaper. "I-I know b-but w-what can w-we do?" He closed his eyes and rolled his neck back. "N-no. I-it is ill-illegal. W-we c-can't go to the f-festival. B-besides you d-don't know w-where it is."
A smirk painted across James's face. Yeah, but you do. You can read it, and I know that that paper is illegal to own because it's the Colran Guard news. Tak must have read it this morning. It must be nice having a Lord as a dad, and one as a brother, even if he is dead. James sprung off the bed and opened the window latch and yanked it open. "Well, I'm off to the festival. I'll ask for directions from, I don't know, Sutton. I'll tell him you wouldn't tell me, even though you know where it is because you have an illegal newspaper."
Kitiku lunged forward and grabbed James's brown jacket. "W-wait, no. If they f-find out they w-will take my d-dad away and my m-mum. I… I love m-my mum. J-James don't t-tell."
James grinned back at him. "Then let's go to the festival. Where is it?"
"A-Akrat, b-but i-it's dangerous. T-there are s-slavers there. B-besides, if y-you go on y-your own and, um, you get arrested… n-no one can help." With a shaking hand, he lifted a small metal container on the window sill and shook it. The cold metal coins fell into his hand, and he looked back to James. "T-Train tickets."
James nodded, and opened the small wooden draw under the bed. He pulled out a white shirt and changed. He saw Kitiku change into a white polo shirt and light trousers.
Smiling, James clambered out the window, and with a swing, he grabbed the drain pipe. His feet dangled for a moment before landing safely on the ground. "Come on, let's go. Li and Ano are waiting for us at the bridge."
Kitiku's feet touched the ground. Lioa and Andrew? But… I only have enough for a return for each of us.
The 11 o'clock train arrived in Fehahra ten minutes late. The steam puffed ash-grey clouds, as rolycoly powered it forwards. The four coaches were coupled by metal, and were backed up by two over-jammed storage coaches.
The train traversed the town's forests, until a sandy yellow replaced the green pallet. That was when James knew they were there, the Akratian desert. He stepped off the train eagerly and sprinted to the sundial. "It's 1 o'clock. We can still sign in. Come on, Li, let's go." With a jump, he skipped over the steps outside the station.
"Festival, here we come!" Lioa punched the air.
"Keep it down, Li, or we will get arrested. Remember, it's illegal." James tucked his hands into his pockets. A hand gripped James's arm and thrust him onto his back. A pale, skinny man raised his leg, and James felt a pulsing pain surge from his ribs.
"Well, well, I guess we have some guests. Didn't your mummy tell you to stay away from this place? I guess not." The man smirked as a graveler rolled over and leaned against James's leg.
James looked over to Lioa but could barely see his cyan hair behind the metallic spines of the Lairon. Tauros shit, what do I do? Where is Kuti and Ano? The sunlight dimmed, and a cooling shade coursed over him briefly. James turned his head. Who are you?
"I suggest you get off these kids and leave," a deep voice said from the end of the alleyway.
"Oh look, a squeaking ratticate. Why don't you wait your turn?" the woman said.
James heard a crack. His eyes narrowed in on the woman who had been holding Andrew against the wall. His jaw dropped at seeing her twisted fingers. He saw her roll her poké ball out in front of her. Relief filled his body. The weight had gone. This man is in a three-on-one. We should help him, but… James grabbed Kitiku's arm and yanked him until he was behind the wooden door. What in cresselia's name is that Pokémon?
"Hishrak, protect them!" the mysterious man stepped out of the shadows. His blue hair was tied back in a ponytail. His thin moustache drew focus from his blue eyes. Alakazam against a lairon, tropius and graveler is favourable.
A roaring gurgle left the tropius's mouth as her green leaf-like wings got thrown back and twisted. The graveler rolled into a ball and smashed into the wall behind the tropius. The lairon had rushed forwards but found himself in the wall beside the door.
Lairon got up and roared, spit leaving his mouth and his eyes narrowed in on the alakazam. He pushed his foot back and charged, lowering his head.
"I warned you," the man said. "Hishrak, use psychic!"
The alakazam rolled his eyes and twitched his ears. His yellow body blending in a little to the sandy brick walls and his moustache curled a little. A thundering boom echoed down the streets and the bricks of the wall surrounded the Lairon which had collided with him. Before the man could call out another order, the alakazam had levitated the graveler and was spinning her around. Quickly, the alakazam released her into the staggering tropius.
"Let's get out of here!" one of the gang shouted, scrambling down the street and returning their Pokémon as they did.
What? James thought, stepping out from behind the door. "What was that? Who are you?" He grabbed his poké ball.
"I am Clarence, Clarence Rehan Bourbabel, and this is my Alakazam, Hishrak. I hope you are okay and you didn't get hurt." Clarence extended his hand and smiled.
James took his hand. "James. That's Li, the curly one is An, and the tall one is Kuti, but he will probably want you to call him Kitiku because he is funny about who can call him Kuti. You broke her fingers, didn't you? Wait, are you psychic? Can you, like, read my mind right now? With a power like that, you must be totally unstoppable."
"Lioa to you, and my brother's name is Andrew." Lioa spat.
"Ha, ha, ha, I am not that strong. I am plenty beatable; they were just thugs – when you have many years of experience in battle, thugs are not as overwhelming to deal with. Anyway, nice to meet you." Clarence let his hand fall back down to his side. He's an observant little guy. He reached up, undid his shirt's top button, and looked down to James. "So, I heard your friend, Lioa, I think, talking about the festival. I am going too. We should go together."
Kitiku nodded rapidly. He bowed his head and signed, "Thank you." His legs shook, and his gaze fixed back down. Sweat ran down his back as the sun leered at them. It's too hot, even for us. He saw the sweat dripping down James's hand. I don't get it. He is wearing a jacket in this heat. At least Mr. Bourbabel is only wearing a shirt. He heard James's stomach gurgle. And we haven't eaten or drank anything since Thursday.
"Come on!" James sprinted down the street and into the back alley. He pounced over the wall. "Hurry up! We are gonna be late!"
Someone is keen. Let's just hope he has enough energy for the festival tomorrow. I hope the food is good, I am hungry myself. I think you are too, aren't you, Hishrak? Clarence looked to the Alakazam, who rolled his eyes once more.
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