Wow...it's been quite a while, huh? I never meant for it to take so long for me to post again, but here we are, three months later. I'd like to apologize for my extended absence, but IRL kicked my butt pretty good. I had to move, then find a new job, on top of working some extra hours to help pay for my wife's schooling, and it all got to the point that I wasn't writing at all. Good news is that things have calmed down somewhat, enough that I was able to finish this half-written chapter at least! I make no promises on when the next chapter will come out, only that I have now picked up the metaphorical pen once more!
As always, thank you to all of you who read this, whether you're giving it a shot for the first time or if you're rereading it (hopefully other people reread fanfic besides me lol), and especially thank you to all who favorite, follow, and review this! It means a lot to me!
Malic awoke to the crisp bite of autumn air. The lingering heat of summer had finally seemed to have died down, replaced with the refreshing touch of fall. Heslithered out of his sleeping bag and stretched his arms out, wincing slightly as his stiff muscles popped and creaked in protest. Regulus, draped lazily over his now vacant sleeping bag, let out a soft snore, completely oblivious to Malic's early morning ritual.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Malic stood and began checking his camp. Settled in an obviously well used patch just off the main route, the stomped-short patch of grass was just large enough for his tent and portable stovetop to be set up with a comfortable amount of sitting room.
He took a second to ensure everything was in place—especially his food. He had learned that lesson the hard way when a stray Zigzagoon snuck into his camp on the outskirts of Littleroot. It had ransacked his provisions in the dead of night, dragging off half a bag of pokefood without a sound. He'd woken up to find the small Pokémon's trail of crumbs and footprints leading into the underbrush, taunting him. Since then, he'd been extra cautious, securing his food with greater diligence.
After confirming that nothing was missing and the camp was intact, Malic glanced toward the horizon. The golden light of early morning was creeping over the trees, the dewdrops shimmering like gems. He took a deep breath, savoring the slight burn of cool air filling his lungs. It was a quiet morning, the recent chill encouraging even the most ardent of morning pokemon to stay in their warm beds for a moment or two longer. Of course, quiet invites thoughts, and of those, Malic had plenty.
Petalburg was his next stop. An actual city, one much larger and more substantial than the small towns he had visited thus far, though relatively small as far as cities go. Malic found his stomach clenching, but he wasn't that surprised. Cities meant people, and Malic, as a rule, wasn't too fond of people. Persons he could deal with, perhaps even like, but people…people were a different story.
There had been more than a few moments of consideration given to just blitzing through Petalburg, stopping to resupply before camping out on the next route. But one thing had solidified his resolve to stick out at least a day in Petalburg: Norman.
The Petalburg Gym Leader was a renowned expert on Normal-type Pokémon, particularly the Slakoth line. Slakoth, Vigoroth, and their final evolution, Slaking, which were infamous for their power, and that was mostly thanks to Norman. And here Malic was, with Regulus, a Slakoth, as his first partner.
Malic was unused to asking for help; he had been self-sufficient for as long as he could remember. But he would also be the first person to admit that his foundation in Pokemon training was rather shallow. Malic wasn't sure what Norman was like. He only knew that he served as a gatekeeper for those who wished to ascend to the higher levels of the Pokemon league. But if there was the slightest chance Norman would give him any advice, any pointers on how to better train or care for Regulus, then Malic would put up with the crowds.
After his hopefully successful visit to Petalburg, his true first target lay beyond: Rustboro City. Built at the foot of the Chimney mountain range, Rustboro city is the center of industry in the Hoenn Region. Home to the Devon Corporation, most anything made in Hoenn originated from Rustboro.
It wasn't just industry. Rustboro was also the location of the Hoenn Pokemon Academy, a prestigious institution that advocated an educational approach to Pokemon training. There were other Pokemon schools, usually started by a well-ranked trainer who wanted to settle down, but the Pokemon Academy was the only one run by a Gym Leader.
Roxanne was new, having taken over for her father only three years ago. But already she was becoming well known as a rising star for Hoenn. Rock-type Pokémon were tough, but known for being somewhat simple and predictable. Roxanne took that notion and flipped it onto its head. Rather than the overwhelming power typically attributed to Rock-Types, her gym was well-known for its challenging tests of strategy and endurance. Many compared preparing for her gym challenges to studying for an exam.
Of course, before Malic worried about Rustboro, there was another challenge: Petalburg Woods. The dense forest between Petalburg and Rustboro was notorious for its wild Pokémon and tricky paths. Most people went through the thin stretch that separated the outskirts of Petalburg from Rustboro, while the majority of the woods extended north-east until Verdanturf Town.
It was said that some trainers never made it through on their first try, turned around by disorienting terrain or ambushed by aggressive Pokémon. Malic would need to navigate it carefully if he wanted to reach Rustboro with his team intact.
"One step at a time," Malic muttered to himself. First Petalburg, then the woods, and finally, the Rustboro Gym. He felt his stomach gurgle, and chuckled softly. "And I guess we'll start with breakfast."
It turned out that Malic's concern about adding Pokemon and multiplying costs were unfounded with his newest addition. Maestro (the Seedot had accepted the name with as much dignity as a Seedot could have) didn't consume much in the way of normal food. Instead, it would attach itself to trees and drain moisture from them, sustaining themselves with that and sunlight. Maestro seemed content with it, but Malic made a note to look up any other methods of feeding he could use in Petalburg.
Between Regulus' minute eating needs and Maestro's self-sufficiency, Malic still had most of the food he had purchased in Littleroot, which helped offset the tightness in his gut every time he thought about just how much he had paid for the paint set. At this rate, he could be stocked past his first gym.
Both Regulus and Maestro were out of their Pokeballs and enjoying the first tastes of fall. Regulus had his usual perch on Malic's back, slipping in and out of naps while the chilled fingers of the autumn wind ran through his fur. Maestro, despite his stubby legs, kept up with Malic rather well. Occasionally he would venture to the side of the route and mess with shrubbery or tall grass, kicking it back and forth in a melody only he could hear before toddling back.
Malic himself was perusing a pamphlet he had grabbed on a whim from the Oldale Pokemon Center. It turns out that the centers would provide a general outline of the routes connected to them, including basic descriptions of the common Pokemon and any recent warnings that had been issued. Thankfully, it appeared that Seedot was common enough to have an entry, however basic it was.
It is hard to get through Route 102 without at least catching sight of a Seedot. The little Pokemon loves to hang from branches and absorb nutrients from the trees. It's not uncommon to see large numbers clumped together. While Seedot are usually pacifistic and prefer to avoid or run from conflict, be wary of their hard exterior, which enhances their Tackle and provides extra Defense that can be further enhanced by Harden. Even if you damage one, its Absorb can leech health back from your Pokemon, prolonging the conflict even more.
Malic knew that they probably should have set out an hour ago; the camp was already packed up. But he had wanted to enjoy the autumn morning, and it seemed his team did too. It was nice, relaxing even, which of course meant the universe couldn't let it stand for very long.
"Well, well, look who we have here!" Popping out from the shrubbery like a demented Bunneary was Kain, leaves and twigs decorating his chartreuse hair until it almost appeared a piece of the forest itself was growing atop his head. Neither Malic nor his two Pokemon reacted beyond a synchronized sigh from Regulus and Malic and a slow blink from Maestro. They had all heard Kain crashing through the forest, as well as the not so muttered curses when a branch or bush snagged his clothing.
Malic had held some vain hope that Kain would just barge right past his little clearing, but it seems it wasn't meant to be. Who knew that the hardest part of his journey so far would be dealing with people rather than the superpowered forces of nature.
"Stop ignoring me!" Kain's squeaky shriek brought Malic back out of his thoughts, the other trainer looking about two seconds from stomping his foot like a frustrated four-year-old.
"What do you want, Kain?"
"The name's Kain in case you forgot! And…wait, you remembered my name?" For a second, Kain looked like he had just been smacked in the face by a Magikarp, but all too soon the preening, cocky grin Malic remembered from before spread across his face. "I mean of course you remember my name! I'm the strongest of the Littleroot Leftovers after all! It's only natural! Hahaha!"
Malic stared at the cackling kid (it was hard to see Kain as anywhere close to the same age as himself) and could already feel the regret for what he was about to ask. "The Littleroot what?"
Kain jabbed his thumb at himself. "The Littleroot Leftovers! It's the official name given to people like us who stuck around Littleroot for a bit. And since I've won against everyone who stuck around, that makes me the strongest Leftover!"
Malic could only blink in response, struggling to comprehend the absurdity of the self-imposed title. "The strongest... Leftover?" He repeated slowly, incredulous. Regulus stirred slightly on his shoulder, as though expressing his silent disbelief alongside his trainer. Maestro, meanwhile, began tapping a light rhythm on the forest floor with a stubby foot, seemingly unimpressed with Kain's grandiose claims.
"Exactly!" Kain beamed, clearly oblivious to the sarcasm in Malic's tone. "So, I've come to challenge you, Malic! After all, you're the only one I haven't beaten yet, even though you surrendered to me already! Once I beat you, no one can deny I'm the strongest!"
Malic was about to sigh and brush him off once more, when Kain's grin twisted into something meaner, sharper. "Or are you just too scared to fight me with those?" His eyes flicked dismissively to Regulus and Maestro. "I mean, a Slakoth? And a Seedot? Not exactly the stuff of champions, huh?"
Malic sighed, but not because of the insult itself. Kain's cocky smirk, his taunting words—they all reminded Malic of someone back in Grovewood. A kid named Dorian, who had been just as loud-mouthed and arrogant, but not because of a Pokémon. No, Dorian's weapon had been his sharp tongue and the fact that he was bigger than most of the other kids. He was the first to outgrow his clothes, the first to be picked for afternoon kickball, and he made sure everyone knew it. He used his size to intimidate the younger or smaller kids, lording his strength over them whenever he could, especially the orphans.
Malic, being the oldest, was oftentimes the shield that the other kids hid behind. Dorian was many things: a bully, a braggart, but never brave. When confronted by Malic, who showed no fear for his size, no anger for his words, Dorian would bluster and make excuses, but turn tail all the same.
Truthfully, he had no desire to fight Kain. His taunts were childish and washed off Malic like water off a Psyduck's back, as they did to Regulus and Maestro. But the resemblance to Dorian left a sour taste in his mouth, one he couldn't quite ignore.
So, Malic turned away from Kain, ignoring the offended squawk as he faced his two pokemon. "Regulus, Maestro, are you up for this?"
"Asking permission? Makes me wonder who's really the trainer."
Malic ignored the muttered commentary from Kain. Regulus lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug, not seeming to care either way. Maestro tapped out a quick, peppy rhythm that Malic took as agreement. Malic nodded, more to himself than anything, and turned to Kain.
"Fine. Let's battle."
"Since you only have two Pokemon, we'll stick with a 2-on-2, give you a bit of a chance!" Kain's called out. The two had moved from the camping clearing Malic had stayed the night to a more naturally formed one a short way up the route. Kain hadn't stopped talking the whole way there, flipping between bragging about his inevitable victory to yammering inane questions that, somehow, Malic's silence seemed to answer for the energetic trainer.
"I'll even send out my Pokemon first! Go Ziggy!" Out of Kain's first Pokeball popped out the familiar shape of a Zigzagoon, the spiky tan and cream fur bouncing as the Pokemon ran in small tight circles immediately. Malic and Regulus had encountered a fair few Zigzagoon prior to their departure from Littleroot, and while a fair bit faster than the other Pokémon around, that's all they really had going for them. Malic toyed with the idea of sending out Regulus but turned to Maestro instead. "Well Maestro, how do you feel about going first?"
The Seedot tapped a rhythm that sounded somewhat similar to a military drum cadence and stepped forward. "So, it's the Seedot first huh? Seems like an easy time, huh Ziggy?" Kain's comment was met with a cheerful "Zig!" from Ziggy.
"Let's get this over with." Malic was getting quite tired of Kain's consistent trash talk.
"Ready, get set…Go! Ziggy use Tackle!"
"Maestro, Harden."
The Zigzagoon jolted forward and ran in its signature zig-zag pattern towards Maestro. It was certainly quick, but not quick enough to reach Maestro before his wooden body gleamed, like a layer of lacquer had been spread on. The Zigzagoon's shoulder impacted Maestro and sent him tumbling back with a wooden thunk.
"Yeah, great job Ziggy!" Kain called out, perhaps a bit prematurely, as Maestro popped back up with only a small scuff to show for the clash.
"Maestro, another Harden." Malic had to mentally remind himself to continue issuing orders, however brief. Maestro was, after all, newly caught, and he and Malic had yet to train together and establish the same sequences and tricks that Malic and Regulus had.
"What, how is that derpy little Pokemon still standing? Ziggy hit him square on?" Kain seemed dumbfounded that Seedot had gotten up so easily, the new Harden painting on an even shinier lacquer-like coating that all but obscured the Tackle mark. Ziggy was still moving about the battlefield, idly bounding from place to place like a sugar loaded child. Malic wouldn't be surprised if Ziggy was a more recent capture of Kain's.
"Are you really that surprised? Seedot has the highest defense of any Pokemon this side of Petalburg. Add on a Harden, and is it really any wonder it didn't go down?" Malic was beginning to question what Kain had spent his time doing in Littleroot. Aside from the occasional job, Malic had spent his time learning all he could about the upcoming routes up to Rustboro, as well as the Pokemon League as a whole. He had assumed those who stayed had done the same; it only made sense to be prepared financially as well as mentally after all.
"Shut up! I knew that! I was just surprised that your Seedot managed it, that's all. Ziggy, keep hitting him with Tackle! He'll go down eventually!"
"Harden." "Zig!'" thwack
"Harden." "Zag!'" thwack
"Harden." "Goon!'" thwack
By the end of the series of exchanges, Maestro was shimmering like a disco ball in the clearing while Ziggy was panting, its right leg trembling. Running into an already hard object that only got harder was bound to have an effect, and while Maestro hadn't come out unscathed, Malic was sure the leg would hinder Ziggy more than the decreasing amounts of damage Maestro took.
"Come on Ziggy! He's got to be hurting! One more Tackle!"
As the Zigzagoon lurched into a stumbling charge, Malic called out. "Maestro! Thank you for listening to me so far. But just like you've trusted me, it's time for me to trust you. Show me what you can do."
Uncaring of the Zigzagoon approaching him, Maestro turned to Malic, his golden eye locking with Malic, and he gave a simple nod. The Zigzagoon barreled forward, and Maestro spun. Simply leaning slightly to the left, Maestro was merely grazed by the Tackle, sending Maestro spinning on the bottom point of his body while Ziggy crashed into the ground, having met no resistance.
The tip of Maestro's seed cap glowed green, and small glowing particles of a similar color began to float off of Ziggy, slowly floating towards Maestro. With each one that sunk into him, Maestro seemed to regain health, the scuff marks on his body slowly fading. Before Ziggy could struggle to his feet, Maestro had been restored to pristine condition.
Maestro, still spinning, started forward, feet tapping against the ground to spur himself onward until he pushed himself up as high as a Seedot could jump and crashed down onto the top of Ziggy's head, slamming it into the ground and halting Ziggy's struggle.
Maestro rolled off the unconscious Zigzagoon and gave a small bow to Malic, as if at the end of a concert.
"W-what the hell was that?" Kain's mouth was hanging open like a Loudred.
"Absorb, then Tackle I believe." Malic looked at Maestro for confirmation, to which the Seedot nodded again.
"You…he…whatever, Ziggy was new. I was trying to give you a chance, but I guess I shouldn't have played nice then. Let's see how your stupid Grass-type handles the heat!" Kain returned Ziggy and threw out his next Pokemon.
The Pokéball burst open in a flare of white light, and Kain's next Pokémon materialized with a sizzle. A mass of fire emerged, its body a loosely shaped glob of molten lava, rippling and shifting like a living flame trapped in slow motion. Two eyes glowed a searing yellow, almost like two embers floating in the molten red sea of its body. The ground beneath it hissed slightly, the leaves nearby wilting in response to the intense heat radiating from the Fire-type.
Instantly, the temperature in the clearing spiked, the cool morning air now suffused with a stifling wave of heat. Malic could feel a bead of sweat forming on his forehead, and even Maestro seemed to be thrown off by the sudden shift, instinctively backing up a step.
Kain smirked, looking more confident than he had at any point in the battle. "What's wrong, can't handle the heat? Let's see how well your little Seedot deals with Magna!"
Slugma let out a low, gurgling growl as it bubbled, bits of molten rock dripping from its sides. The heat it emitted was almost suffocating, creating a shimmering haze around it.
Maestro gave a glance at Malic. Despite the lack of facial expressions, Malic could tell that Maestro was nervous. Despite that, aside from the initial surprise, Maestro had yet to retreat another inch. Truly, Malic had been blessed with fine Pokemon indeed.
"Maestro, there's no need for you to throw yourself into the fire. Come back and let me and Regulus take care of this." Maestro nodded, and if he skipped away from the living lava a bit quicker than he normally did, Malic couldn't blame him. While flame didn't seem to be escaping the Slugma yet, the heat its body radiated was more than enough to already have Malic sweating bullets.
"Well Regulus, it seems we've found ourselves in another mess. You up for helping me clean up again?" Malic didn't even look behind him. He didn't need to. Regulus had already risen, his dopey expression staring unflinchingly into the heated glow of Magna. As Maestro passed by, Regulus raised an arm and patted the Seedot on the seed cap. Maestro stopped beside Malic and responded to Malic's questioning look with a resolute nod. Seems the Grass-type wouldn't retreat from the oppressive heat any more than Malic would.
"So out comes the Slakoth huh? You think he's gonna do any better than your Seedot would? Magna's gonna roast through your whole team!"
Childish malice colored Kain's words, but Malic just raised an eyebrow; he wasn't interested in a back-and-forth. The lack of words on Malic's part really seemed to get to Kain. His face shifted to a red not unlike the hue of his Slugma. "Fine, let's get this over with! Magna, use Ember!"
The Slugma spewed out a volley of fiery flecks that streaked towards Regulus. The Slakoth stared at the incoming flames, moving just enough to position himself out of their path. The Slugma oozed forward, leaving behind it a trail of bubbling, half-hardened magma as more Ember's flew from its mouth.
Regulus retreated slothfully, maintaining roughly the same distance between himself and Slugma as he pursued Regulus in a slow but heated match of Tag. Several patches of fur along Regulus' arms were singed from close calls with the flying flames, but the Slakoth had yet to be hit directly by an Attack.
Kain shouted encouragement, occasionally pausing his enthusiastic repetition of "Ember!" to heckle Malic, but to Malic, it felt like his words were being shouted from underwater. His eyes stayed locked onto the battle, onto Regulus, trying to figure out a plan.
This was the strategy that had developed between the two over the last few days. Despite the reputation of his species, Regulus had proven to be quite adept at fighting, a surprising degree of flexibility and paradoxically fast reflexes enabling him to evade most attacks sent his way. While he ducked and weaved through the attacks, it was up to Malic to think of a proper plan and judge when to put it into action.
Malic had come up with quite a few ways of dealing with the commonplace Rattata, Zigzagoon, and Poochyena that frequented around Littleroot, but a moving pile of magma was a different story. Even if it wasn't as hot as, the Slugma's body still radiated a significant amount of heat. With Regulus' only way of damaging it being physical, Malic was confident that even Pokemon shenanigans wouldn't see Regulus coming out of things with anything less than a burn.
The surroundings weren't much help either. Mostly greenery, the grass and leaves of nearby trees having already wilted in the Slugma's presence. The clearing was covered in grass, with the hardened black trail of Slugma drawing a rough semicircle. He could have Regus dig into the ground and toss dirt at the Slugma, though Malic doubted it would do much besides irritate it.
Regulus and Magna had essentially traded places now, the Slakoth on the far end of the clearing while the Slugma was oozing past Malic, leaving behind a dull red path that cooled into a matte black within a few seconds. Malic stared hard at the trail, something tickling in the back of his mind, until it clicked.
"Regulus, use Yawn!"
Malic issued his first verbal order of the second round, and Regulus, who had only dodged up to this point, stopped retreating. He swayed around on planted feet, weaving through the Ember as he took a deep breath, then yawned out a swarm of slow floating pink bubbles towards Slugma.
"Don't let those bubbles touch you Magna! Shoot them down with Ember!" Kain barked. Magna's mouth flared up once again, launching another volley of Embers toward the incoming Yawn bubbles. The fiery flecks collided with the bubbles mid-air, causing some to pop into harmless puffs of pink mist.
But the Yawn bubbles kept coming. Slow and deliberate, they floated around the Embers, some evading the attacks entirely and drifting toward Magna's molten body. A few bursts against its thick, fiery surface, and Magna's eyes began to droop almost immediately, a sure sign that the drowsiness was taking hold.
Malic seized the moment. "Regulus, close the distance, and use Yawn again."
Regulus moved forward, his pace still slow and methodical even as more pink bubbles were floated towards the Slugma. It was almost comical how leisurely he approached, but his unflinching gaze remained fixed on Magna.
"Don't let him get close!" Kain shouted, panic creeping into his voice. "Use Smog!"
Magna spewed a thick cloud of purple, noxious smoke that billowed towards Regulus. Malic didn't need to say anything. Regulus, true to form, slumped bonelessly backwards limbo style, his sudden shift narrowly avoiding the brunt of the attack. The thick cloud flew past him, the acrid stench causing Malic's eyes to water.
The smoke was quick to clear, aided on its way by a brisk breeze, revealing a slowly straightening Regulus and the hardening form of a sleeping Slugma.
"W-what did you do to Magna?" Kian shrieked as matte black stone began to form, slowly spreading along the now stationary Slugma.
Malic knew he had to take advantage of this opportunity. He didn't know how long the Slugma would sleep for, or how effective attacking the solidifying stone patches would be, but it was better than nothing. "Regulus, aim for the stone."
Regulus continued forward, rearing his arm back and snapping it forward in a Scratch once the stationary Magna was in range. His claws hit the stone, and it cracked like porcelain, heated magma leaking through the cracks. The impact rocked through the still liquid portions of Magna's body. Once, twice, three times Regulus smashed into the cooled portions of the Slugma's body, the last hit sending Magna flying back in front of Kain. Regulus moved to pursue, but a beam of red light hit Magna, returning him to his Pokeball. Kain didn't say a word, just looked at the Pokeball in his hand and then at Malic with an undecipherable expression.
Then, Kain charged forward without so much as a handshake or official declaration of surrender, disappearing into the brush. Malic exchanged glances with his Regulus, who shrugged his shoulders with a sigh. It seems he had won.
Were he a pettier person, he would report to the nearest Jenny about Kain's failure to offer up the traditional Trainer Ante, which could see a black mark put on Kain's record. Fortunately for him, Malic saw no point in doing so, content with his victory and hopefully having imparted some humility on Kain.
"Well done, Regulus. You as well Maestro." Malic's words were brief but no less laden with praise. He kneeled down, inspecting his team. Maestro was near pristine, only a small scuff on his otherwise gleaming shell. Regulus was in rougher shape. Some spare embers had singed his fur, and his hands appeared sunburned and tender to the touch. Seems that even cooled enough to solidify, the heat emitted by a Slugma was no joke.
Malic pulled a potion from his bag, lightly spritzing the clear liquid onto Regulus' hands, watching in awe as the pinkened skin slowly receded before vanishing completely. Malic had known of the effectiveness of potions, but to see it in action was something else. Only half the bottle was needed for Regulus' hands, the rest was saved and placed back inside his bag.
"Well then, shall we continue?" A skip on shifting leaves and a slow climb up onto his back were his answers and, after making sure Regulus was secure, Malic set off on his way, resuming their walk towards the first real city of their journey: Petalburg.