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CaptainB3rry's Short Stories
Touching the Skies (I Will Touch The Skies / Pokemon)

Touching the Skies (I Will Touch The Skies / Pokemon)

The waiting room was shrouded in darkness; not one of the lights overhead was switched on. A single person paced back and forth by the wall. The heels of her shoes tapped against the ground in a constant rhythm.

Click. Click. Click.

CLICK. The door swung open, a League employee’s hand on the knob, and a look of momentary surprise crossed the young man’s face at the lack of illumination. Their eyes met. He recovered quickly and spoke with only a slight stutter.

“Ch-challenger Cynthia, you may approach the arena.”

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The hallway leading to the arena was dark too, but by Cynthia’s reckoning, it was an intentional design this time. Dim orange LEDs studded the edges of the floor and guided her toward the end of the path, where a set of black double doors awaited.

In the absence of sight, her other senses were heightened. The echoes of her footsteps were too loud. With every second, her heartbeat reverberated through her chest. Everything had that ‘freshly-painted wall’ smell, and the fumes made her head spin. She unconsciously brushed her palms against her dress pants, wiping away sweat she hadn’t even known was there. Her tongue felt drier than a Marowak’s bone in the desert.

It wasn’t exactly that she didn’t have confidence in her Pokemon. After all, she knew better than anyone how much her team had trained. Yes, they had worked hard. Yes, they could win. And yet, the uneasiness just wouldn’t disappear.

Was this what it meant, to challenge a Champion? To pit yourself against the strongest trainer in the nation?

Then she pushed the double doors apart and walked out into a world of light and sound as if she’d breached past a Kadabra’s psychic barrier. Her doubts evaporated, forgotten. She was too busy shielding her eyes from the sun’s assault, holding one black-sleeved arm before her face. Slowly, she ascended the steps to the challengers’ podium, fighting the fierce winds and dust that sent her platinum blonde hair whipping backward and her black overcoat billowing in waves, the fur trim dangling behind her and her silver teardrop pin glinting in the light.

Casting her gaze about, the Conference stadium at the Lily of the Valley Island was just as impressive as ever; a grand display of glittering steel and shimmering glass. Each of its ten thousand seats was packed to the brim with spectators. Some cheered for her, some did not.

She inhaled deeply, holding her breath until it seemed her lungs might burst, then releasing it in an explosive sigh. She and her team had decided to have their final battle open to the public.

After all, Cynthia thought as she locked eyes with the Champion on the podium across the field, the people of Sinnoh needed to see how strong their new Champion was. They would doubt her, question how in the name of Arceus a fifteen-year-old could run the country. She would prove herself. Carve a shining legend onto the annals of history, bright enough to dispel the darkness of her forebearers.

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With close-cropped wheat-color hair, a sharp and angular jaw, and broad shoulders that framed an imposing figure, Gabriel Radetic was ordinarily the perfect image of a powerful Champion. Despite having decades under his belt, the only hints that betrayed his true age were a few wrinkles near the corner of his eyes.

“Walrein, Hail!”

“Garchomp, don’t let them set up the field. Sandstorm!” The dragon rose up, exposing a wiry underbelly rippling with muscle. Her dark blue wings beat heavily, edged with rough and coarse scales; wicked talons sundered the very air, sharper than the curve of the crescent moon on a starless night; her gold irises spoke of the thrill of the hunt, her desire strong enough to stir up a cyclone.

On the rocky field cratered and flowing with molten lava, gales of dust screamed alongside the white storm as they clashed again and again, until a crackling beam of blue frost tore through the haze, and the weather conditions detonated in a shower of grey mist.

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The piercing ray swept sideways, shearing through stony peaks and grand monoliths, collapsing them to the ground in a thundering clamor, and for a second Cynthia could imagine that the sounds were that of Radetic’s reign, of the pillars that had supported him falling apart and leaving him scrambling for footing, vulnerable.

The dust settled, revealing a blue-skinned Walrein with yellowed ivory tusks wider than a human’s arms, thick layers of blubber cracked and weathered by the pretense of age. Thin stripes ringed his upper body, a frill of white fur adorned his face like a voluminous beard and scarf in one, and when he exhaled, plumes of frost shimmered in the daylight, singing an ancient song of rime and icebergs drifting on a foamy gray sea. Undisturbed. Stalwart. But ever alone.

Even as she continued giving commands to Garchomp, Cynthia watched Radetic through the indistinct fog. What she saw was not the undefeated Champion she dreamed of overcoming. Instead, there was a tired old man, still filled with bitterness and spite, but fighting to keep a position he no longer remembered why he wanted in the first place—looking as if he had aged ten years in this short battle. And she saw that he knew it too, that he kept up this grand front, this confident facade, because he knew without this semblance of power to take solace in, he would have nothing. Nothing at all. The thought stirred up red-hot anger within her chest.

Tired? How dare he, who had led Sinnoh to this point, look so empty? Then the bribery, the corruption, the monopolies he encouraged, the authoritarianism he spread, what was all of that to him?

Radetic shouted above the sounds of battle. “Time to end this. Sheer Cold!”

His starter reared his tusks in response and belched out a torrent of Winter that wound through the air and blanketed the field in pure, oppressive snow. The skies darkened, swallowed by the power Walrein had called, invoked, but did not control, and the stands faded into blackness. The only things that existed in this icy world were them and their Pokemon. The pressure intensified, whispering of a restful embrace, a comfortable finality in the grasp of R̵̨͌e̵͓̒g̵̬̓i̵̼̕c̵͓̏ë̶́. Telling her to let. Radetic. Win. Garchomp was frozen over instantaneously, and even Cynthia staggered momentarily despite the League having brought out their best psychics to contain this battle, because this was not something to be fully contained.

Yet, Cynthia said nothing. This was no longer a battle that could thrill or excite her. A battle with an opponent that lacked conviction was no battle at all. She simply watched, as she recalled the words she had spoken to Garchomp weeks before.

“For us to win against Radetic, you have to become indomitable.”

Crack.

And she continued watching as Garchomp’s head broke free of the ice and the dragon roared, a declaration of defiance that thundered through crevasses and valleys, shattering the remainder of the shell that encased her.

Her starter crouched low, legs tensing before exploding off the ground in a burst of motion. Walrein saw her coming and spat out an Ice Beam, but Garchomp were some of the world's fastest Pokemon. A sonic boom rolled over the terrain as draconic aura enveloped her and she accelerated, sending snow flying out of her wake. A single green-purple brushstroke against a canvas of Winter.

Walrein had no time to put up a Protect before Garchomp collided with his blubbery body using Dragon Rush, followed by a flurry of Dragon Claws combined with Outrage, lashing into him again and again. Every strike forced him back, vibrating the arena like an Earthquake. Everything behind him was blasted away in a cone of wind force stronger than a Hurricane. A thousand and one blows to shake the world and bring down the foe before her, for she was the indomitable spearhead that could not be stopped. Time seemed to compound, overlaying dozens of movements into one infinitesimal eternity of attacking, faster than the speed of the reactions traveling through Walrein’s mind. It was over in an instant.

As the remnants of Sheer Cold dissipated, the two-ton Pokemon toppled over in slow motion. The scoreboard displayed their victory. The roars of the crowd, muted by the dominion of Sheer Cold that leached color from the world, were finally free to echo out in a stupendous blast of sound. Cynthia cast a final glance at Radetic, who looked as if the ground had just fallen out from under him and was leaning against his podium for support.

This was only the end of the beginning. The end of her journey as a Pokemon Trainer. The beginning of her journey to dismantle Radetic’s pervasive system, and institute a new, democratic Sinnoh. She would see it done even if it took her five, ten, twenty years. First would be replacing the Elite Four, who would almost certainly try to force her out, and then…

She hoped Radetic liked Alola. He’d be retiring there very soon.

As the sun appeared from behind the fading dark gloom, bringing tidings of a bright and cloudless blue sky, its light did not shine on the same person as before.

Challenger Cynthia was no more.

In her place was Champion Cynthia.