Chapter 37 - Frost
Frost awoke to a low, melodic drumming sound, followed by an irritating chirp. He groggily turned his head, bringing his paws up to his snout in an attempt to reclaim his peaceful dreams. However, the chirping grew louder and more grating, compelling him to fully wake up.
"Deee!"
Frost grunted, his gaze directed toward the windowsill where a blue bird had taken centre stage. The pokémon hopped and twirled, rhythmically tapping its beak against the wood and glass. It whistled a tune that reverberated painfully against the metal in Frost's body and was reminiscent of the songs humans in the region seemed to like.
"Ki-reed dede-re. Deee!" the bird continued its song.
Frost glanced outside, his annoyance deepening as he noticed the low-hanging sun in the sky. He had been robbed of precious hours of sleep and now he had woken up, there would be no way he'd manage to get back to bed.
With a disgruntled sigh, he leapt onto the floor and hissed at the pokémon in the window, but it carried on without a care in the world. Frost then raised his quills and conjured a small spear of ice in front of his paw.
He lazily launched the spear at the bird, hoping to frighten it away. Yet, it effortlessly evaded his icy strike and responded with another melodious chirp that somehow commanded a gust of wind to blow from behind it.
"Rooki-i-ridee. Deee!" the pokémon insisted on the song.
As the bird continued its performance, the inconvenient wind persisted as well. Frost hissed once more and summoned another ice spear from his claws. Taking careful aim, he unleashed the attack, targeting the pokémon's talons.
"Deee!" the bird sang out as the ice shattered upon impact. However, before taking flight, it emitted an indignant chirp that Frost translated to "impolite," and fluttered away to pester another poor soul.
Frost sighed as he turned around. At least now he could have his peace…
—*—*—
Early morning light filtered into the room as Frost walked into the large kitchen, where his human and her mate were enjoying their breakfast. He lazily stretched his paws in the air and his quills twitched, emitting a loud tingling sound that alerted the humans of his presence. Then he sniffed the air, detecting a sickeningly sweet smell that made him immediately cough and feel queasy.
"She's trying to make cookies today," the human man commented, peering over his newspaper and meeting Frost's gaze. The pokémon simply hissed in response.
He accepted the male had formed a life union with his trainer. Nothing beyond that.
Frost's gaze then wandered away from the man and landed on his human. She had half her body hanging out the window that led to the garden, and from a distance, he could hear the same infuriatingly chirping from earlier.
"Roo ki dee-ee, roo roo roo, roo," it sang, having chosen another tune this time.
"What's wrong with that rookidee?" Frost's trainer asked as she pulled herself back inside. "I've never seen one so noisy before."
The woman then made her way back onto the floor, patting her apron, smeared with something sticky and splattered with chocolate stains.
"Morning, darling. Sleep well?" she asked, noticing her pokémon by the door. She then absentmindedly grabbed a bowl filled with the same sticky substance from her apron and approached Frost. Crouching down, her bright hazel eyes gleamed as she offered him a spoonful of the goo. "Want to be my taster?"
Frost looked at her with concern, and then, despite his reservations, turned back to the man, silently pleading for a way out. After all, her mate knew how to make food that was tasty and didn't burn. She did not.
He needed reassurance, but the man just shrugged, providing none.
With hesitation, the pokémon gulped as he examined the batter. The woman had set her mind on becoming a great cook, and once she set her sights on something, nothing could deter her, not even her lack of culinary prowess.
The chocolate goo, at least, seemed harmless enough. Frost recalled the last time she had a stubborn idea like this—partnering with that Stone guy to add that monstrous pokémon to her team.
What a disaster that turned out to be.
Frost steadied himself, closed his eyes, and reluctantly opened his mouth. He knew he could never refuse anything his human asked, so it was best to get this over with. In a mouthful, he swallowed the cookie dough, a ball of sugar that hit too hard. Forcing a smile, he looked at his trainer. She seemed satisfied, and if she noticed his quills quivering, she ignored it as she stood up to continue preparing her poison.
Still feeling twitchy, Frost moved to the kitchen counter and climbed it up, taking a seat beside his trainer's mate. The man's gaze briefly lingered on the claw marks left on the furniture and then he sighed, resigned. However, before returning to his newspaper, he took a pinap berry from a bowl and handed it to the pokémon.
"It should help with the sugar rush," he murmured, gesturing toward Frost's trembling quills. "Don't tell Tia, though."
"Did you say something, honey?" the woman turned to her husband, now sporting a smudge of batter on her face.
The man chuckled, setting his newspaper aside, and playfully winking at Frost before facing his wife. The pokémon, of course, responded with a hiss, but the man ignored it.
"You were out late with Opal yesterday," the human male casually remarked. "How are things in Ballonlea?" His grin widened. "Is she retiring yet?"
Frost's trainer let out a smirk as she shaped the batter into discs and placed them on a tray. "One of these days, you should ask that to her face. She will love it."
Her mate grimaced. "And risk being stalked by some creepy fairy for the rest of my life? No thanks."
The woman fell momentarily silent, her focus fixed on the batter discs. Then, with a gloomy glance in her mate's direction, she said, "Opal and I had a very interesting conversation yesterday, you know?"
Frost observed the man leaning forward with interest and mirrored the action.
"You will never guess who has been calling her for training advice," the woman said, turning around and tossing another cookie disc into the tray. Outside, the rookidee resumed its noisy drumming and chanting. Before it could finish a single verse, however, the trainer's patience snapped. She angrily closed the window, shooing the bird away. She then scooped up more batter and pressed it forcefully between her hands.
"Are you okay?" the man asked with concern.
The woman scoffed. "Here's a tip," she hummed innocently. "The calls were coming from the Sevii Islands, and Opal was very surprised."
The man frowned. "Who even goes to that godforsaken..." He paused, widening his eyes. "You don't mean…?"
"Ohh, I absolutely do," she snickered, throwing the final disc onto the tray and slamming it into the oven with more force than necessary. Her husband winced at the impact, but remained silent.
Frost felt confused. He shifted his gaze from his trainer to the man, trying to make sense of the conversation. He hated when humans spoke in half sentences.
"She told Opal she got stuck there after jumping off a boat and being lost at sea for a week." The woman let out a huff as she leaned in the sink.
The man sighed, relief mixing with concern. "Well, if she's calling Opal, at least we know she's alright."
"Otto, did you hear the part where I said she was stuck in the middle of nowhere and jumped off a boat?" The woman turned back to the oven, her impatience clear as she opened it to check on her cookies.
"It hasn't even been a minute since you put those in," the man laughed. "If you keep opening the oven to check, the cookies will never be ready."
Frost's trainer glared daggers at her husband, and the man raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Did Celly tell Opal anything else?" he asked, causing the pokémon to perk up at the mention of the name. Celly was the humans' cub, the one they worried and cried over when no one was watching.
Was the girl in trouble... again?
Frost recalled the stern conversation he had with Celly's eevee before her departure. Aria had promised to protect her trainer with her life... but what could a small eevee even do?
"She is taking part in some tournament," the woman huffed. "But... Opal seems to think she made friends."
Frost huffed too.
He felt a sense of relief that the cub seemed to be okay... for now. However, he knew he should have found a stronger pokémon to protect Celly on that crazy journey of hers. Something older and more powerful than a baby ice fox or a smug normal-type. Perhaps something as sturdy as himself...
Before the humans could say anything else, the rookidee found its way back to the window and resumed its tapping and singing.
"Roo ki dee-ee, roo roo roo, roo."
The woman groaned. "I swear, if this bird..." She angrily tapped the window, but to no avail. Then, refraining from yelling, she turned to Frost with a forced but sweet smile. "Dear, could you get rid of that bird for us?"
The pokémon glanced at the bird outside, then at his trainer, and made his frozen quills stand up and his metallic claws tingle as a sign that he was ready.
After all, he could never say no to his human.
—*—*—
Despite spending most of their time on the road, Frost and his family had in a spacious house with an expansive garden just outside the city. The house bordered the place the humans called the Wild Area, providing ample space for the pokémon when they were home.
However, having a large house posed a problem when one went on a mission to find something known as the "tiny bird pokémon."
Annoyed at his lack of success, Frost spotted three of the pokémon from the man's team lunging by the lake that occupied a large chunk of the garden. On one side, there was Tot, the insufferable probopass that had learned the human concept of dad jokes. In the water, there was Salacia, or Sala for short, the wailmer that never stopped talking. Finally, under the shade of a nearby tree, was the man's starter, Vulcan, who appeared to be only pretending to listen to his teammate's rambles.
Vulcan was a hulking creature, with fur as dark as the night and pointy horns that burned as hot as the sun. Frost remembered that first time they met, Vulcan's three tails danced in the air like flames, and his breath smelled of sulphur. He remembered all of his instincts saying that he should never get close to that pokémon. After all, Frost was born of ice and steel, and the man's starter was a fighter of fire.
Yet, against all odds, that blazing taurus had become one of his closest friend. Despite the usual laziness, he was the only one Frost trusted to be of any use in difficult situations.
Funny how things turned out.
"There is a rillaboom around!" the wailmer declared. As she spoke, she flapped her fins, splashing water on Vulcan, who snorted out a flame in annoyance.
"No wild rillaboom would dare come here," the taurus said, shaking the water off his fur. Even from a distance, Frost could see the droplets evaporating from Vulcan's body as he approached a sunlit patch of grass.
However, Sala remained unsatisfied with her teammate's answer. She continued to swim around nervously. "I heard the drumming!" the wailmer flapped her fins again but decided to hum the rhythm instead. "It went like this: Mer-mer Wailmer. Mer-mer Wailmer."
The probopass crackled. His little side noses spun around, but he kept quiet. Thankfully.
"Stop laughing. I'm really knowledgeable about war cries if you must know.They will march here at night and start some revolution!" The whale anxiously surveyed her surroundings. "I even heard something about a submarine. They'll come from underwater…and you can bet I'll be the first target.Do monkey eat fish?"
"I'm pretty sure they eat leaves and berries," Frost said, lifting a paw to greet the other pokémon as he approached. He then shot a pleading look at Vulcan, who simply shrugged, more interested in his nap than the conversation.
"Are you sure, Frost?" the wailmer asked, casting a glance at her sides.
Frost nodded. "And if anything like this ever happens, me and Vulcan can protect you against any pokémon of the green. Right?"
The taurus lazily lifted his head and nodded, releasing a plume of smoke from his snout.
"See, nothing to worry about." Frost crossed a paw in front of him as he scratched a quill with the claws of his other paw. "Why do you think there's a rillaboom around? Have you actually seen it?"
"By the fins of Kyogre, NO!" she flapped around again, splashing water on the probopass, who shifted and turned his mini-noses in displeasure. "But all morning, I've been hearing it..." she whispered, narrowing her eyes. "The war drums... They're low, but they're close... It's mocking us."
"Right..." Frost rolled his eyes, attempting to maintain his composure. "And by any chance, have you seen a little blue bird whenever you heard those...uh… war drums?"
The wailmer didn't hesitate for even a moment. "YES!" she flapped her fins frantically. "Do you think the bird might be a spy scouting ahead for the army?"
Frost glanced once more at the taurus for help.
"It's just a bird, Salacia," the fire bull responded without sparing her a glance. He simply turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. "Frost will take care of it."
The ice-type grumbled. So much for thinking highly of that lazy bull.
Frost would deal with the bird, but only because his human had asked.
"Don't worry, I promise everything will be fine," Frost reassured the wailmer diplomatically. He then turned to the probopass, who was still crackling with amusement on the side. "Can you find where it went? That bird has an affinity for the steel. Maybe your noses can sniff it out?"
The compass pokémon clacked and his "moustache" rattled. The mini-noses on the side spun a few times before finally pointing towards Frost.
"I think you're too metal for me." The probopass crackled in laughter again. Frost knew the rock-type would be laughing at his own joke for the rest of the day.
"That was a waste of time," Frost muttered
—*—-*—
Beside the house, there was a small orchard with a variety of berries and fruit. Upon hearing some noise emanating from the shrubs, Frost decided to investigate, hoping to finally locate the annoying bird.
He should have known things were never this easy.
The commotion he had heard didn't originate from the rookidee, but from something far worse: the three ancient pokémon—sigilyph, yamask, and claydol—were engaged in their usual squabble.
It made sense, of course, that his human and her partner had encountered these three. The couple had initially started as ordinary trainers, but their passion lay in unearthing ancient ruins and unravelling the mysteries of the world. The pokémon associated with temples and lost cities were as fascinated by them as the humans were by their history.
Yes... it made sense for them to join the humans. What didn't was how the pokémon acted toward one another.
"Eons!" Izzy, the sigilyph, cried, flapping her wings and tail haphazardly. "I have protected my city for literal eons, and yet you accuse me of neglecting a mere orchard?"
Anubis, the yamask at the side, let out an eerie cry that Frost recognised as a laugh. "Literal eons? HAH, mortals have no comprehension of such a concept."
The ghost pokémon was a strange creature. As it spoke, its mouth remained still, while it swung its slab back and forth like the pendulum of an old clock, counting out all the seconds in eternity. The yamask's eyes—two holes in the sides of its head, filled with fluorescent purple smoke and floating, uncoordinated eyeballs—fixed upon each of its two companions as its shadowy arms extended towards them.
"Izzy is just asserting her dominance," Cupid, the claydol, said. As it spoke, yamask's hands continued to extend and coil around its companions. Clearly annoyed, the claydol attempted to roll to the opposite side, futilely trying to free itself from the ghost's grip. It twisted its head from side to side before redirecting its frustration towards the sigilyph. "She spent a century circling around an old pillar in the desert, pretending to protect a civilization that had long vanished. So, I doubt she can protect this place."
Frost, still keeping his distance, scratched his quills. Did he even want to get involved in this? His mission was to find that rookidee, not to stop yet another fight...
"You don't know that!" Izzy yelled, unleashing a gust of air to break free from the yamask's shadowy hug. She succeeded where Cupid had failed and flapped her wings with determination before continuing. "It doesn't matter either way. Neither of you protected anything. So, I will take charge of guarding the orchard against the bug that's stealing our fruit."
The claydol abruptly stopped spinning and flapped its small stick-like arms. "Two thousand years," its psychic voice echoed for all to hear. "That's how long I've protected humans. Don't you dare—"
"HAH," the ghost screeched once again, pulling the other two pokémon even closer. "Only the weak would boast about protecting the living. You are pitiful, my siblings."
Frost sighed inwardly and grumbled as he watched another pointless argument. This, however, finally called attention to himself. The three creatures looked at the ice-type curiously, but also with a hint of embarrassment.
They were beings older than civilisations, acting like misbehaving children… Well, it's not like they had ever had any reason to grow up.
Frost took a deep breath and let his quills relax as he walked towards the three pokémon. "What's going on?" he asked, eyeing his family with suspicion. "What's this about a bug stealing our fruit?"
The yamask emitted a maniacal laugh before vanishing into his slab, which dropped to the ground next to Frost. Shadows emerged from it, scouring the orchard briefly before returning. One shadow lingered by Frost's paws, and from it, a half-eaten apple emerged.
Carefully picking up the apple to avoid damaging it, Frost studied the fruit. As he did so, the slab on his side floated up, releasing a dark purple smoke.
Even before the smoke took shape, the ghostly voice within resonated. "A thief is desecrating our masters' temple." The pokémon continued to laugh hysterically, listing various obscenities that would serve as a fitting punishment for such a horrid thief.
Though Frost would never admit it aloud, he couldn't help but be impressed by his human's mate for winning the loyalty of such a vengeful spirit.
"Have any of you seen the thief?" Frost dismissed the ghost's ravings and focused on the apple. The gnaw marks didn't resemble those of a bug; they resembled peck marks from a small, possibly blue bird.
The claydol's head spun around, clicking like a gear falling into place before it spoke. "We have not, but yours seems like a valid hypothesis."
Frost rolled his eyes. "All that theatrics, and you can't even give me something useful," he thought to himself, quills tingling with annoyance.
The claydol clicked in displeasure, sensing Frost's thoughts. The ice-steel pokémon let out a metallic ringing in response. That was but a gentle reminder to the rock creature that intruding on the thoughts of its steel brethren wasn't wise.
Well... Cupid knew better... it knew Frost wasn't the violent kind.
With a resigned sigh, Frost accepted that his attempts to scare them into behaving were futile.
Frost then contemplated asking the pokémon for help in finding the bird, but he deemed them more trouble than they were worth. Besides, he didn't want the yamask to punish the tiny rookidee for simply having breakfast.
With a sigh, he dug a hole in the ground, where he carefully planted the apple. The three ancient pokémon observed him with curious eyes, as if he were performing a ritual beyond their understanding.
And perhaps this was beyond them...
"The thief took a bite from this apple," Frost explained, gently patting the soil. "But they left the seeds behind. From this act, something new will arise—a shrub that will bear more apples than before. No harm has been done, so there's no need for punishment."
The ice-type glanced over his shoulders, and the ghost and psychics seemed to be impressed enough with this gesture.
Frost scratched his quills, taking a moment to ponder his next move. "I'm trusting you three with the responsibility of ensuring this shrub grows strong. Can I count on your..." He paused, his gaze lingering on each of the pokémon. "…cooperation?"
As he walked away, the trio nodded and made grand promises about fulfilling their duty. However, Frost had barely taken a few steps when he heard the spinning sound of the claydol's head. "I once witnessed the growth of a tree. It felt like mere minutes, yet it spanned years."
Izzy loudly flapped her wings and ruffled her feathers. "What a waste of time! You could have been protecting your temple, but instead, you watched a tree."
The ghost screeched again. "HAH! Mortals and their silly notions of time."
Casting one last glance back, Frost let his quills deflate as he released a heavy sigh.
—*—*—
Frost had diligently searched everywhere, but the rookidee always managed to slip away, leaving chaos in its wake for him to clean up.
"You two can go back to sleep. I'll handle the bird," Frost told Chimmy and Sapphire, rubbing his body to remove the charred spots from an electric shock.
When he found his two teammates, Sapphire, the carbink, was bouncing up and down in a frenzy, while Chimmy, a short-tempered chinchou, was attempting to electrocute the rookidee. They were both furious at being woken up and were trying to deal with it as much violence as they could.
Oblivious to human ways, the rookidee perched itself on the house's fuse box, continuing to sing and tap its wings.
"Roo-ki-kee, Roo-kidee-ee," it sang, aggravating the chinchou to no end.
"We'll see how well you can fly once I've broken your wings, blackbird," Chimmy jumped up and down, his antennae clumsily bobbling as electricity gathered at the tips. The aggravated chinchou, however, was never one to pay attention to details such as the fusebox. He didn't even hesitate to launch a thunderbolt toward it.
To prevent a disaster, Frost put himself in the bolt's path, inadvertently allowing the rookidee to escape.
"Roo-ki-kee," the bird continued to sing as Frost winced from the electric shock.
"Are you sure you don't need help? We're here for you!" Sapphire asked, giving their electrocuted teammate a concerned look. The compassionate carbink was always eager to lend a hand, even if her abilities were limited.
"I'm not helping," Chimmy grumbled, stomping his stubby feet. "I had that shot! Why did you have to get in the way?"
Frost let out a sigh and repeated his promise to handle the bird on his own. At this point, all he wanted was for everyone to get out of his way.
As he watched his two teammates walk away, the chirp of the rookidee echoed in the air yet again.
"Rookidee, Rookidee, ROOKIDEE!" The bird sang yet another tune, this time with a slow and dramatic melody that seemed to say, "Let him be."
It was clearly mocking Frost.
If the singing wasn't enough, the blue and black bird soared past him and perched itself on the second-floor window leading to the humans' workspace.
Without wasting a moment, Frost's quills stood on end as he leaped onto the walls, his claws digging into the cement as he moved up. The rookidee, who had clearly never encountered the alolan form of Frost's species before, was unaware that climbing was second nature to them. In a matter of moments, the alolan pokémon reached the rookidee, who, in a lapse of judgment, flew inside the house.
Frost hissed as he closed the window behind him.
"I suppose you've never faced a sandslash of steel before, have you, little bird?" he grunted with anger. Before the bird could react, Frost extended his claws and lunged toward it.
He was no longer playing games.
—*—*—
Frost leaped from the window onto a large desk, attempting to slash the bird. However, the rookidee remained unfazed, gracefully dancing around the sandslash's claws as it flew higher up. It eventually perched on a dangling lamp above them.
"Ki, Roode. Kiki Roodee!" Feeling safe and out of reach, the bird began to sing and drum on the metal cord holding the lamp in place. It made no attempt to hide it was enjoying this "battle", and Frost could only huff in response.
Quickly surveying the room, the ice-type searched for a way to climb up to the ceiling. His eyes lit up when he spotted an overstuffed bookshelf on the side. With careful steps around the desk, he made sure not to disturb anything—not the piles of papers with red markings his human had worked on throughout the night; not the mug filled with pens and markers or the large computer monitor, and, most importantly, not the pokéball sitting on the corner of the table.
The last thing he wanted was for the monster inside it to be accidentally released.
Once he arrived at the edge of the desk, Frost jumped to the bookshelf and skilfully manoeuvred his way to reach the lamp. The rookidee, who was too engrossed in its song, only noticed the impending danger when books started tumbling to the floor and the sandslash was already closing in.
The bird attempted to fly away, but it was too late.
With one claw Frost secured himself on the lamp while with the other he grabbed the rookidee's feet. The bird tried to break away desperately, but the sandslash was not letting go. However, as he tried to tighten his grip, the ice-type became way too aware of gravity and both pokémon froze as a screw from the lamp fell down on the desk below them.
Frost's eyes followed the small object as it bounced on the table before rolling away on the floor.
Maybe it was just—
Before he could even finish his thought, he, the lamp, the rookidee and even a piece of the ceiling crashed down. A pile of rubble destroyed the computer, and the papers were flying all around them.
Frost's eyes darted around in frantic search of the bird, and to his horror, he spotted it gleefully flying toward the lone pokéball rolling on the floor.
The sandslash froze.
He scrambled to his feet, raising his paws in an attempt to signal surrender. "Hey, little bird, why don't you stay away from that ball?"
The rookidee tilted its head curiously, casting glances between Frost and the ball. Then it flapped its wings and chirped before deciding to peck at it.
In a burst of panic, the sandslash lunged toward the bird. Just as it pecked the release button, Frost pulled the small pokémon out of harm's way, narrowly avoiding the monstrosity that materialised.
The room filled with an expanding red light, taking the form of a massive pokémon. Her head nearly scraped the ceiling, and her wings, when fully extended, were twice the size of the ruined desk below.
The monstrous creature let out a piercing screech, revealing an array of sharp teeth on her enormous lower jaw. Her tail, tipped with a sharp arrow-like point, crashed down on the floor, causing the entire room to tremble.
Frost felt his quills quivering and turned protectively toward the bird in his grasp, expecting it to be paralyzed with fear.
But, of course, that blasted rookidee wasn't.
It was frantically flapping its wings, trying to break itself free, its eyes filled with pure awe.
"Can't you sense Petra is dangerous?" Frost reasoned with the bird as it shielded it from the drool that dripped from the roaring monster's mouth. "This creature is a pokémon of old, little bird. The humans... brought her back with their strange machines."
The rookidee seemed unfazed. When Petra—a pokémon the humans called aerodactyl—started flapping her wings menacingly, the small flying-type broke free from the sandslash's grip and flew directly in front of the prehistoric pokémon's face.
Frost's eyes widened in a frenzy as he noticed the rookidee spreading its wings and melodically screeching back at the aerodactyl.
Was it trying to imitate her?
Whatever this was, Petra was not amused. She huffed at the rookidee, and the gust of air from her nostrils was enough to throw the tiny bird off balance. Then, with one swift motion of her wing, she sent the bird pokémon crashing into the wall.
That single powerful hit was all it took for the rookidee to collapse onto the floor, unconscious and with its wings twisted and bent in unnatural angles.
With a sudden surge of anger, Frost took a small step back, infusing his claws with the power of steel that lay within him. The room resonated with the tingling sound of metal spiking and slicing through the air as the sandslash launched himself towards the aerodactyl.
Petra's body may have been strong, with scales almost impenetrable, but Frost still left a large gash across her chest.
His gaze shifted to the fallen bird nearby.
No holding back.
Petra stumbled backward, colliding with the wall and shattering the window behind her. She screeched, stepping on the broken glass, and cast a furious glare at the sandslash. Dark smoke leaked from between her teeth. Tauntingly, she snapped her jaws shut, compressing the smoke into a dark explosion, and twistedly smiled before slowly advancing toward her icy opponent.
Frost knew he had no chance of defeating her by himself...
As if his prayers had been heard, his human burst into the room, accompanied by her mate and his claydol. The sandslash gave her an urgent look, but was relieved to see that she had come prepared.
On her wrist, she was strapping a white bracelet with a stone that resonated with the ice core within him.
A stone bestowed upon them by the kahunas and spirits of their land.
A promise he had once made to be as patient as ice and as sturdy as steel.
A testament to the bond they shared.
"Cupid, use Psybeam. Restrain them until Tia and Frost are ready," the man commanded, and the claydol wasted no time.
His human didn't have to say a word. Still, Frost felt the power that was steadily building within him burst when she yelled, "Subzero Slammer!"
Frost lunged forward, freezing everything his paws touched. In perfect synchronicity with his trainer, he lifted one claw, sparkling fragments of ice tracing his movements in the air. Then he raised his other paw, crossing them above his head. He repeated the motion three times, revelling in the surging energy.
Bound by Alola, their spirits intertwined. Her power became his own. At that moment, he transcended his own limitations.
"Now," his human said with unshakable resolve.
The claydol, who had been struggling to restrain the aerodactyl, released its hold as ice spikes sprouted throughout the room. Frost brought his claws down, jerking them toward his opponent. Instantly, a trail of ice spikes erupted from the floor, growing sharper and larger before exploding on Petra, trapping the monster within what resembled a frozen star.
Frost's human wasted no time to pick up the pokéball from the floor and walk towards her pokémon. "If you stopped behaving like this, you could be out with the others," she said gloomily as she recalled the creature. Her eyes then lingered on the ball for a moment before she let out a tired sigh.
Meanwhile, Frost, still panting heavily from the battle, hurried to where the rookidee had fallen. Thankfully, his icy attack had not harmed it, and despite being unconscious and badly injured, it was still alive.
The sandslash carefully cradled the tiny bird in his paws, holding it close to his chest as the two humans knelt beside him.
"It will be okay," the woman reassured Frost with a gentle smile.
—*—*—
"Burned," Frost's human complained to her husband, placing the plate of cookies on the table.
They had spent the rest of the morning at the Pokémon Centre, and she had forgotten about her cookies in the oven. The chinchou and the probopass took care of any potential fire, but when they returned home, both the cookies and the oven were destroyed.
The woman seemed really upset about losing her cookies, but Frost paid little attention to her. He was more focused on ensuring the bird singing in his paws was comfortable.
"Rookidee ki dee. Dee. Dee ki Rookidee!" it… he sweetly sang, not even minding that both his wings were in tiny little casts.
Well, that was the miracle of pokémon centres.
In just a few hours, the rookidee was back on his feet and singing, and in a few days, he would be able to fly up to the skies again.
And what did Frost think about all that situation?
For starters, he felt responsible about the bird's wellbeing, and insisted he should stay home with them while recovering. His human was surprised, of course, but didn't complain. But there was more... That little bird was reckless and quirky, but really brave and resourceful.
Slowly, an idea was forming in Frost's mind...
A ringing noise interrupted Frost's thoughts, and he peered curiously at the humans.
"Is that the phone?" the man asked as he finished throwing the cookies away. "Please tell me you didn't give this number to another one of your students."
"One time, Otto," the woman sulked as she headed toward the video-phone. "And I only gave our phone number to that girl because she seemed genuinely interested in the connections between the Celestica people and Sinjoh."
"It's a mystery how no one else picked up on your weak spot for studying the Celestica," the man chuckled. "Naming our daughter after your favourite ancient civilization should've been a dead giveaway."
The woman narrowed her eyes at her husband. "Very funny," she muttered, taking a seat by the phone.
Still cradling the rookidee, Frost hopped onto the nearby sofa, trying to find a comfortable spot for the bird to rest for a while.
Then, just as the ringing stopped, there was a loud thump.
Frost looked at his trainer, startled. She had dropped a vase that had been sitting beside the phone.
"C-Celly?" the woman gasped, causing both her pokémon and her mate to spring up immediately. Even the bird gazed and slowly blinked at the girl on the screen, displaying a mix of curiosity and confusion.
Frost was less confused, however. He noticed the details. Her hair was dishevelled, her clothes were ragged, and black smudges trailed down her eyes.
The human cub was in trouble.
"Hey, Mom..." the girl spoke, her voice unusually quiet. "H-How are you?"
The woman beside Frost frowned so intensely that it was almost audible.
"Where are you, dear?" the girl's father hurriedly asked, his eyes scanning the plain background around her.
"Uh… Four Island penitentiary…" Celly said with a nervous laugh. "I might've… got… uh… kind of arrested?"
A tense silence floated in the air, and the girl nervously laughed again.
Poor kid.
"Celeste…" the girl's mother said in silent fury.
The rookidee pecked Frost, looking worried…
Frost clicked his quills.
The human cub was in trouble again... but her parents would probably handle this one. However, he knew she couldn't stay away from chaos for long.
She needed something as sturdy and dependable as himself to protect her in her journey.
A pokémon with a core of steel…
Celeste needed a brave knight to watch over her while she was away.
Yes… the sandslash had one idea slowly forming in his mind.
Frost smiled at the rookidee. "Little one, what do you say I train you?"
A/N: Sooooo I ended up with a cliffhanger last time and then moved on to a chapter about a sandslash trying to get a rookidee? Yep, I absolutely did. Sorry for that :D
I do promise we will keep within Celeste's PoV until the end of this arc though.
Anyway, it was too fun to get into Frost's mindset here. I wanted to develop Celeste's family and their pokémon a little more before they actually got to talk, hope this was fun!
In case you are interested this is Celeste's parents full team:
Tia: Frost (her starter, a sandslash), Chimmy (chinchou), Izzy (Sigilyph), Sapphire (Carbink), Petra (Aerodactyl)
Otto: Vulcan (starter, a Paldean taurus, blaze breed), Tot (Probopass), Cupid (Claydol), Anubis (Galarian Yamask), Salacia (wailmer).
Also, the rookidee was singing songs by the beatles. Not a big plot point, but I kind of decided to try and match his "speech" to the lyrics. I'm a big fan, and I figured it was fitting with Galar, plus fun. The songs he was singing were:
- Help! (in the first scene)
- Here comes the sun (in the second one)
- Revolution (in the third scene, but the wailmer mentions having heard something about submarines too :D)
- Blackbird (in the scene with the chinchou)
- Let it be (same scene, it switched songs)
- Hey Jude (Right before the battle)
- All you need is love (the one in the end).
This was just me having fun this chapter (and maybe foreshadowing the name I'm giving to the rookidee). I think it can get very annoying if I keep trying to pull that every time he appears though :D
I done too much rambling already.
NEXT CHAPTER:
Cellmates