Aidinza passing out was perhaps the quickest way for him to get out of the ranger's station. Mainly because the Rangers did not bother explaining anything to his unconscious body; they just had their Psychics pluck the information from his head.
Which was thoroughly… uncomfortable knowledge to grapple with as he left the ranger station. Granted, he apparently was not going to get a choice in it anyway, but to not even be aware while his mind was being examined.
A shudder ran up his spine as he paused in the doorway of the ranger station. It left him with an oily feeling that seeped into his spine and left an odd helplessness curling around his every thought.
He shakes his head harshly and shoves his way through the door with more force than needed. But it does little to chase away the feeling of violation.
But what was on the other side, well, that helped somewhat.
Aidinza had seen many cities since he had left his desert home. From the behemoth skyscrapers of Nimbasa to the opulent bronze of Driftveil to the warm colour of Iriccus. In each, he found they had their own clear-cut identity.
Opelucid, at first glance, looked like two cities intertwined.
The first was a city as old and storied as Icirrus, if not as colourful. Grand stone complexes, squat and sprawling, jut up from the ground. Marked with buttresses and towers built to withstand the weight and fury of a dragon. Buildings from a time when Opelucid was the Pheyan'atho's sole domain, and they raged mightily against themselves.
But surrounding those great stone fortresses were more modern buildings, perhaps the most modern that Aidinza had ever seen. Glass was entwined with steel and neon, which hummed with electricity. Beacons of light illuminated the streets and shone down upon the older stone buildings.
It was a strange mixing of an era long gone and what felt like an era just on the cusp of coming. Aidinza would be the first to say he found cities uncomfortable. The scent on the air, the tall buildings blotting out the sun, and the far too many people pressed down on him like a too-tight blanket.
But for a moment, standing there at the outskirts of Opelucid, staring at the melding of ancient and modern, Aidinza found longing stir in his heart.
No, more accurately, he felt a tempestuous need race through him. After the… the hope, the Icirrus dangled in front of him to look at Opelucid and see such an evident melding of a people that once had even been considered by the Ya'an-ah to be overly traditional and the modern world.
Aidinza exhales, centring himself for a moment, as he realises he was blocking the sidewalk as he gawked at the surrounding buildings. He manages an apologetic smile as the people walking past give him side-eyed looks before he remembers the reason he had been rushing to Opelucid in the first place.
His eyes snapped back up to the skyline, hand falling to hover protectively over his pokèballs. He needed to get to a pokècentre.
Without another glance at the people irritated by his gawking, he takes off. The sooner that Astazhei could get medical attention, the better.
-
"The rufflet has an infection in his ear canal." Aidinza felt his heart sink. "The toxic managed to seep behind his tympanum and inflamed his saccule."
Doctor Adrien was an older man with salt and pepper hair who looked dead on his feet. One hand clutched a paper cup, and the other held a clipboard. He had taken Astazhei's pokèballs an hour ago after a nurse had noticed a complication.
"Is he going to be alright?" Aidinza's hands twisted into his poncho, forcing them to not worry in front of him.
"Yes, but he needs to recover. The inflamed saccule is pressing against his inner ear, which is messing with his Vestibular System, his sense of balance. He has a lumbosacral organ which acts as a backup sensory organ, but that is primarily for moving on the ground." The man yawns, sipping at his coffee before straightening up, his eyes going hard. "The stasis slowed down the infection, but without constant observation, there's still a chance of permanent damage. As of right now, the rufflet is being placed under two weeks of medical observation and will not leave this centre."
Something dark and vicious twisted in Aidinza's stomach at that, a surge of protective possessiveness that wanted to deny the doctor. To refuse and refuse until he is given his pokémon magically hale and healthy. But he bites his tongue and bows his head. As much as it would pain him to part with Astazhei for a single day, much less two weeks, he knew it was for the bird's health.
And more than that, he knew that it was his fault that Astazhei was sick.
The old man's features softened just slightly. "The antidote helped; you just didn't have the right tools, and it's better than it would have been if you just left it. You prevented the rufflet from losing all hearing, or worse, vision." Aidinza swallowed heavily. The words were little comfort compared to knowing just how bad it could have been. "Now get out of here; you have two weeks in Opelucid. Do something with them."
Doctor Adrien slumped away, exhaustion obvious with every step. Aidinza watched him go for several seconds, hand drifting to the empty spot on his belt. There was a strange weightlessness to his belt now, light in a way that Aidinza found that he loathed.
His shoulders slump even lower as he glances around the foyer of the pokémon centre. It was mostly empty, only a Nurse handling the front desk, servicing a few older trainers. His eyes lingered on the nurse for a moment before this attention drifted to a computer.
He would be here for two weeks. He would not waste them.
-
Technical Machines, more commonly known as TMs, are a marvel of programming, computer engineering, and psychic prowess. Only possible with the miracle of pokéball technology, the machines would temporarily create a psychic hypnosis that, in highly simplified terms, would teach a pokémon a move by running hundreds of mental simulations in the pokémon's subconscious.
Needless to say, they were expensive. Even the most common TMs were usually a few thousand dollars. They were significant, long-term investments. Most trainers at Aidinza's point of the journey would generally pick up one or two, lest they find themselves broke.
Aidinza planned on following suit; he had three TMs that he planned on buying today. The first was simply because it was just too cost-effective not to buy. Rock Slide was a move that nearly every member of Aidinza's current team could learn and addressed an issue that most of his pokémon, outside of Naazin, had. They had no real ranged options, and it was a weakness that more than one trainer had taken advantage of.
The second was something of a gift to Astazhei and something to keep the bird safe. Steel Wing was, perhaps unsurprisingly, a steel-type move that turned a bird's fleshy, injury-prone wing into a rigid steel beam capable of shattering stone. It would cut away at Astazhei's theoretical weakness - theoretical in that Aidinza had yet to see a pokémon that Astazhei could not physically bully - to rock types, but would hopefully help him avoid wing injuries.
The last was one he had kept an eye on since nearly the start of his journey. Dark Pulse was a move that Aidinza had only witnessed once before when Tsesei's partner Krookodile fought against a massive Rhydon that had strayed from the deep desert. The move had darkened the midday desert sun and carved in twain a sandy dune. Which had been more than enough to dissuade the agitated Rhydon.
The display had stuck with Aidinza for years afterwards. It was the first time he had seen a pokémon display the awe-inspiring prowess that separated them from any other species on the planet. And, in that little boyish place in his heart, he had always wanted that power for himself.
As he slid the three metal cases across the counter to the old store attendant, he was about to have that power for himself.
Or at least some form of it.
Aidinza flashes a small smile at the attendant as the three metal cases are slid back over to him. He leaves the store in an uncharacteristic rush, there were few places to train in the crowded limits of Opelucid, and fewer still that would let someone train there for free.
He was in such a rush that he collided with a man the same age as him as he sharply turned a corner. The two of them went sprawling, sending the TMs that Aidinza was holding clattering to the ground.
"Man, did anyone catch the name of the hydreigon that hit me?" The other boy groans as he sits up before staring forlornly at several bags of food that had crashed to the ground.
"Ah." Aidinza pauses, coughing as he rubs his back. "Wet winds and cool sands stranger, I think I may have knocked us both over." Aidinza greets awkwardly, caught between the urge to find the incredibly expensive TMs he just dropped and checking on the man he had just sent crashing to the ground. "Please forgive me."
"You too, man." Aidinza watches as the man rolls over his shoulder, bouncing to his feet in a single smooth motion. Then his words registered, and a mild sense of confusion washed over him.
"Pardon?" The young Ya'an-ah rises from the ground with a grunt, glancing at the mess in front of them as he does so.
"Uh, don't worry about it. Don't mean to be a drag, but…." He gestures at the mess in front of the two of them, the request for help obvious. Aidinza nods, feeling a guilt stir, and the two descend on the food, packing it away as quickly as possible.
"Big shot trainer, eh?" The other boy, who had managed to put away most of what was near him, speaks up, distracting Aidinza for a moment. He glances up, taking a good look at the other male for the first time.
He was slightly shorter than Aidinza, with skin just a few shades darker than the nomad's sun-touched features. His dark hair swept across his sharp lined face in wild locks, tinged with a purplish hue under the glint of the sun. The boy shoves some of his hair out of his face and gives Aidinza a quick grin, exposing sharp teeth as he waves one of the TM's in the air.
"Dark Pulse, hey?" Aidinza watches carefully as he puts away a plastic box of strange shrunken purple fruits, half sure he is about to be robbed. "Got a dark type, then?"
"A sandile and a pawniard." His newest pokémon's second typing was a surprise to Aidinza; he had thought they were a pure steel type. The man's brown eyes light up, and he flips the TM around in his hand, offering it to the Ya'an-ah nomad.
"You know, it was preeeetty rude of you to knock me over like that, and you made me spill our food everywhere." Aidinza cautiously takes the TM back, unsure where the other boy was going with this. The purplish-hued boy grins wide, "You might have to make it up to me."
Aidinza's eyes widened as he kicked himself for not properly realising what he had done. Destroying another tribe's food was considered a grave insult, or worse, a heinous crime depending on the context. Sharing a meal, inviting another into your hospitality, was considered by many Ya-an'ah elders to be a symbol of the brotherhood between the desert nomads and the Tly-an-yeh. A connection formed from the very first time the two people met and had long since bled into the rest of the Ya'an-ah's culture. A ritual of brotherhood that Aidinza participated in with Brycen.
To reject that hospitality was rude, perhaps, but to spit on that hospitality by destroying the food, ruining it. That was a grave insult to the centuries of stories and history that entwined the two people.
But Aidinza was not in this man's home and had not been invited to eat his food. No, even without the extension of hospitality, he had fouled another's food.
Tribes had exiled people for less.
He bowed low at the waist in desperate apology, "My deepest and gravest apologies", Aidinza rushed out, tongue tripping over itself. "Please forgive me, or tell me how to earn it."
"Oi oi oi, it's fine, no need to look so terrified, man. I'm not mad or anything." Aidinza glanced up; the boy looked as panicked as Aidinza felt, glancing furtively around the street. "I was just gonna ask you to let me watch you teach your pokémon Dark Pulse. Please stop bowing. I'm sorry I didn't mean to set you off. You don't even have to show me Dark Pulse; it's fine, hey want a prune?"
Now it was Aidinza's turn to be unsure, accepting a handful of the strange, shrunken purple fruits he had packed away. This entire encounter was getting out of hand.
"Yeah, it is." Aidinza blinks and flushes slightly; he had said that out loud. Luckily, it seemed the other boy agreed. "Let's restart. I'm Jha'y'zéča-den. You can call me Jayden if that's too hard."
"Jha'y'zéča-den." Aidinza rolled it around on his tongue, eyeing the other man's darker skin for a moment. "I am Aidinza of the Naisho'h." He studies Jha'y'zéča-den, and after a moment, a flicker of recognition sparks in his eyes, but the other boy does not say anything.
"Nice to meet you." A silence fell, stretching awkwardly for a long moment, neither particularly sure where to go from here.
"So, uh, where were you planning on training those new TM's?" Jha'y'zéča-den ventures, half eager and half visibly thinking.
"I'm not sure." Aidinza's response felt curt on his tongue, and as Jha'y'zéča-den continued to stand there, mouthing Naisho'h, he felt compelled to continue talking. "Not many places in Opelucid to train."
Jha'y'zéča-den snorts absently, paying slightly more attention to the conversation. "Yeah, and the places there are make you pay a motzer cuz they're used to trainers coming to fight Dra'khí -" He pauses, tongue stumbling over his words. "Dra 'Khí za - ide' en." He sounds out the words phonetically, lingering on each syllable. "Dra'khíza-ide'en". He grins to himself, proud of managing what Aidinza could only assume was a name. Then a flicker of realisation crossed his brown eyes. "Naisho'h are the Ya'an-ah, the desert guys, right?"
"I would hope the Pheyan'atho would remember us as more than just the desert guys." Aidinza could not keep the biting edge out of his tone; he knew the Pheyan'atho were self-centred, you needed to be to tame dragons, but this was slightly ridiculous.
However, his tone seemed to have no effect on Jha'y'zéča-den, the proud grin on his face only widening as his back straightens - disproving Aidinza's first impression that Jha'y'zéča-den was shorter than him - and his eyes light up.
Aidinza only nods; maybe if he was not in the heartlands of the Pheyan'atho, he would be more hesitant. But in Opelucid itself, there was no mistaking him for anything else.
Jha'y'zéča-den hesitates for a moment, fiddling with the handles of his groceries bags. "I know a place where you can train for free."
"I don't want to go too far." Aidinza hedged; leaving the city limits, even for training, without Astazhei felt wrong.
"It's just a short ride; I'll even bring you back when you're finished." He gives Aidinza a half-eager, half pleading look, his brown eyes wide enough to give Sandile a run for his money. Aidinza wavered for a moment, technical machines were expensive. Though he had few expenses, even the cheapest of training 'areas' in Opelucid would leave him with next to nothing.
Jha'y'zéča-den observed for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought before he seemed to have a lightbulb moment.
"You can even have dinner with us; there's a seat at our table." Aidinza pauses, tapping a single finger against his side.
"And you'd see it filled." He murmurs, finishing the half-formed sentence. Carefully his eyes trace the street lines of ancient stone fortifications entwined with modern glass titans. "You really want to see that Dark Pulse…."
Jha'y'zéča-den grins bashfully, and Aidinza snorts, sending the Pheyan'atho into a fit of chuckles.
"Lead on." Jha'y'zéča-den pumps his fist in a strange gesture, and the two of them were off.
-
Flying with Skyla had been a terrifying experience. Soaring kilometres above the earth, while Skyla did her best to make him forget which way was up or down, with only the security of glass and thin metal between him and death had sickened him to his stomach.
But at least for that, Aidinza had been pretty sure that the plane was meant to be in the air.
Riding on Jha'y'zéča-den's bike removed even that comfort. On top of removing the thin casing of glass and metal, and even a proper seat to cower on.
He supposed that the Pheyan'atho at least did him the courtesy of not rising kilometres into the air every time his bike was flung off some ramp or over some ditch.
Cold comfort, since it meant that the number of occasions he found himself racing towards the ground was exponentially higher.
After forty minutes, across winding roads and up and down fractured hills, when Jha'y'zéča-den finally brought the two of them to a stop, it had taken Aidinza nearly five minutes to find his feet and quell his stomach.
The sight that greeted him when he did, in many ways, made up for what he had just been subjected to.
The two of them stood on the precipice of a valley, a cradle of verdant forest and tranquil, rolling hills. All across the valley were buildings of timber and stone, far from the brutalist military fortifications of old Opelucid; instead, they seemed to be homes. Quiet and understated.
Something dark and… massive stirred in the corner of Aidinza's eye, and he snapped around to face it and felt his heart stutter to a stop.
It should perhaps not have been a surprising sight, the Pheyan'atho was the most prominent of the tribes native to Unova for one reason. Not their location, not their people. But their bond with Haxorus.
And the legendary Hydreigon.
The creature, its face covered by blue fur so light as to be grey, and framed by fur as black as the darkest night, lumbered to attention. Frills pressed tight to its skull peel back, exposing a fuchsia underside as it sniffs at the air.
It rears back further, reaching its full height, nearly twice Aidinza's height. Its two arms crane around, the 'heads' that made up its hands yawning, exposing inches of age yellowed fangs. The hands sniff and focus down on Aidinza and Jha'y'zéča-den.
The Ya'an-ah native stood still. Not even the endless sands of the Ya'an-ah desert were enough to protect the tribes from the interminable brutality of the great scourge of the Unovan skies. Dozens of stories of the terror descending on wings of darkness on unsuspecting Ya'an-ah caravans, reshaping the mother desert in its wake in its ever-endless drive for more to satiate the endless hunger of its three mouths.
To live on Unovan soil, or sand or rock or grass, and anything in between was to understand the shadow of fear that the Hydreigon cast upon it.
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Jha'y'zéča-den flung himself at the beast and wrapped his arms around its nearest arm.
"Haŋhédaŋzéča!" The beast rumbles, its other arm coming to prod at the boy wrapped around it. "Koda hdí wote woyute waskúyeča a hdi"
The beast, Haŋhédaŋzéča, sniffs the air and turns to where Aidinza was still trying to avoid any notice. Even a young Hydregion would absolutely destroy Aidinza's team, and there was nothing young about this Hydregion. The arm not being embraced by Jha'y'zéča-den stretches out to Aidinza, or… above Aidinza?
It sniffs again and tilts to face Aidinza properly.
It was blind, he realised; its eyes, the same fuchsia as the frills still extended around its skulls, were glassy and unfocused.
"Koda." Jha'y'zéča-den insists, and the Hydregion turns away, softly shaking off Jha'y'zéča-den and curling back in a mountain of muscle and fur so large that Aidinza had previously mistaken it for part of the mountain pass.
"Come on, Haŋhédaŋzéča needs her sleep." Aidinza, for the first time since the behemoth stirred, blinked, feeling his eyes ache. He carefully nods, as if the slightest bit of noise would wake the Hydreigon and send it into a terrible rage, and carefully follows Jha'y'zéča-den.
-
Sandile's first Dark Pulse was far from Tsesei's Krookodile darkening the sky and tearing apart dunes. In fact, it barely managed to carve into the dummy on the far side of the room that Jha'y'zéča-den had led Aidinza to.
But, it was something that shored up Sandile's weaknesses, and with time and practice, perhaps it could someday rival that old reptile. It seemed to come naturally enough to Aidinza's starter.
The others took to their TM's with slightly less grace. Rock slide was a common and inexpensive move. But it was deeply foreign to most of Aidinza's team. Not only dealing with rock-type energy but also dealing with using that energy to form something at a distance. Even Shandíín was struggling with Steel Wing.
But they were slowly puzzling it out; they had all the pieces they needed from the TM, after all.
"So, you're just going to leave them to it?" Jha'y'zéča-den had disappeared for a mere few minutes after he had first shown Aidinza the training room. When he returned, sans the groceries, he had been a whirlwind of questions about anything and everything.
It was overwhelming at first, but Aidinza found himself appreciating it. Jha'y'zéča-den's questions drove him to consider ideas more in-depth to adequately explain them.
"They know what they need to do. I watch to see if they need more help, but they need to find their rhythm." Micromanaging pokémon while they were learning was pointless at best and actively detrimental at worst. Aidinza did not understand how the energy pulsed in their veins, did not understand how it formed.
He could offer ideas and whatever he could find in the endless archives of Pokécentres, but directly telling them what needed to happen was beyond his ability.
"What about that one?" Aidinza's hand twitches to the pokéball Jha'y'zéča-den gestures to, sitting innocuously on his belt.
Where Astazhei usually sat. Where Astazhei should be sitting.
Where another pokémon was now sitting.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision nearly two days ago. Astazhei was, legally speaking, under the Opelucid City Pokécentre's care. Not currently registered on Aidinza's team.
Leaving him with only five team members. Aidinza had seven pokémon.
It was a logical decision; it should have felt like the right decision. Aidinza had caught that seventh pokémon, and he had a duty to take care of it. Had a responsibility to train it unless he released it, and his waist had felt strangely empty without a sixth pokéball.
When he had first decided to do it, that had been all it had taken to convince him.
Now, with the faint warmth of a full pokéball that felt so natural yet so incredibly different. His waist had felt strange without the sixth pokéball. With a different pokéball, it felt wrong.
And so those thoughts tasted ashen in his mouth.
"Aidinza?" He meets the other boy's eyes for a moment, studying his sharp features and guileless eyes. Aidinza found himself reminded of the children the Naisho'h looked after for a moment. With their endless questions and eager eyes. "Hey, if you don't want to ta-."
"One of my pokémon was injured on the way here; he is in the pokécentre." He admits, then frowns. "One of my pokémon was heavily injured, poisoned while I was fighting poachers." And had been too slow and inexperienced to react to the fast pace of the double battle, he let echo through his own head.
"So the pokéball is empty?" Jha'y'zéča-den's voice cut through his self-recrimination, somehow both firm and soft.
"No. I have seven pokémon." Aidinza's hand falls to the ball at his waist, feeling the almost unnoticeable warmth.
"You don't think you should have brought the seventh." Aidinza glanced up at him and noted at least one more difference between the young taken care of the Naisho'h and Jha'y'zéča-den.
Their eyes were never quite so discerning.
"I caught it. Him. After Astazhei was hurt. So did Pawniard." Aidinza pauses, hands tapping a thoughtless rhythm on the pokéball. Jha'y'zéča-den stayed silent. "I caught him, a mawile, and Pawniard after Astazhei got hurt."
"Pawniard is training." It was a gentle admonishment but still drew a flinch from Aidinza.
"Pawniard is training." He agrees, glancing over to where the steel-type was robotically going through the motions of attempting Rock Slide. Seemingly just trying the same thing over and over.
Jha'y'zéča-den let the silence sit in the air.
"It feels like I'm replacing Astazhei, while he's hurt." Aidinza was the one that was not good enough; why was he allowed to… to replace Astazhei. It did not feel right. It should not feel right.
Aidinza expected a lot of responses to that, from that not being fair to Mawile, to telling Aidinza that he needed to deal with swapping his pokémon. If Aidinza was to be honest, he had already refuted them all, even if the content of the words had not been entirely laid out.
"Would Astazhei care?" Aidinza had expected a lot of responses, but somehow that one slipped his mind. Jha'y'zéča-den pressed forward in the wake of Aidinza's shocked expression. "Can you honestly say that your pokémon is going to be as hung up on this as you?"
Aidinza could not.
Astazhei, in all his brash, cocksure nature, would sooner get annoyed that Aidinza was having doubts again than be concerned that Aidinza brought along another pokémon while he was not with his trainer.
Aidinza's hand closes around the pokéball at his side and gives Jha'y'zéča-den a wiry smirk. "You know, the last person to invite me into their home and give me a heart-to-heart was a terrorist that tried to kill me. Should I be worried?"
Jha'y'zéča-den stared at Aidinza slack jaw for a moment before the dusky boy snorted, and the two of them descended into laughter. "What the hell? Who just says that?" He gasps out between bouts of laughter. Aidinza could not manage a reply, leaning against the wall as he clutched his ribs, pissing himself laughing.
After several long moments of hysterics, the two calm down. "First things first, you're telling me that story, then we get to the mawile."
Aidinza sputters into another brief laugh before relaxing bonelessly and nodding, feeling lighter than he had in an age.
-
Dealing with Mawile was…
Easier than Aidinza expected, it was… mostly obedient. It even avoided bothering Pawniard under the gimlet eye of an uncharacteristically grumpy Sandile.
Though that did not mean it was not disruptive. No, instead of fighting among the other pokèmon, Mawile constantly attempted to drag the others into his… dramatics.
Most of Aidinza's pokèmon ignored him, Sandile still nursing a blue-grudge, Pawniard was too… focused. Even Shandíín seemed to consider himself above participating unless he thought he could annoy another pokèmon while he was at it.
And, of course, Naazin would not be caught dead putting more effort into life than necessary.
Except for Nihanlo.
Aidinza watched, half resigned, as only a few minutes after he had set them both back to training, Nihanlo found herself drawn back into Mawiles' big personality.
Mawile stood tall, proud and unmoving before a pile of rocks that Nihanlo had conjured. Before him was the conjurer kneeling as her strange, piercing cry echoed through the room.
Mawile turned, exasperation in his face as he paced away, firm tones matched by a countenance that Aidinza could only describe as imperial.
He pauses and glances over to Nihanlo, gesturing to her eagerly. A moment later, Nihanlo bounds in front of him, this time affixed with a single rock on her head.
She cries again, the sound strangely beseeching, as she knelt again.
Mawile imperiously dismisses the ice type again, a senseless speech of growls and whines spilling from his lips.
It was only then that the third member of the strange act struck. In a genuinely baffling motion, the steel type's own black jaw seemed to sneak up on Mawile, nipping at the air behind him.
A truly fatal blow, as Mawile stumbled backwards, back colliding with the rock stack as he grasped at the 'wound'. Before he turned to steady himself against the monument, with what Aidinza was pretty sure was part of Mawile's lunch smeared into his back.
It was then that Nihanlo rose from her kneeling, stabbing her forward spike into Mawile's back while he was turned. He arches up from it, crying out in pain.
He stumbles around for several moments as Nihanlo tries to shake the rock from her head; unfortunately for the ice type, the stone had frozen solid.
As the steel-type stumbled around, he seemed to realise that his accompaniment was having issues, turning to see Nihanlo struggling with the rock frozen to her.
He rushes over, his yellow hand closing around the stone to yank it out before throwing it to the side - narrowly missing Naazin, who had taken the distraction as an opportunity to curl up in the corner - and racing back to where he had been standing.
He stumbles around some more, and this time when he turns to Nihanlo, he stumbles to her in character, collapsing onto her for support.
Then slowly, three rocks form in the air.
Mawile looks up to see the rocks. His eyes meet Nihanlo's for one long, soulful moment as he lets out a betrayed sob. The Rock Slide descends on him, cracking into his back, and sending his wasted food splattering everywhere.
He goes limp, collapsing onto Nihanlo.
"You know, you have to admit that's something special right there." Jha'y'zéča-den pipes up from where he had sprawled out over a bench. "Or maybe unique is a better word eh?"
"Nihanlo was making good progress." She was easily the best with Rock Slide among the team, internalising the TM quickly. While Aidinza had no idea what mastered looked like, he was pretty comfortable with her ability to wield the rock-move.
Easy-going and eager as Nihanlo was, she had a keen mind behind her yellow eyes.
"She formed the Rock Slide behind him…." The other boy trails off, and Aidinza acknowledges the point with a hum. It was disruptive, but Nihanlo was clearly practising. Aidinza would bring up the fact that Mawile was distracted. Still, the reality was that whenever the Mawile did practise, he clearly gave it his all, throwing himself at it with the same die-hard determination that characterised his dramatics.
He was as eager to learn new ways of combat as he was to make sure that whatever story he lived in came to a thrilling conclusion.
"Extricating him is going to distract the others." The young Ya'an-ah mused as he watched the moment that Mawile realised that he had frozen to Nihano's constantly freezing body and began to struggle to get free. Then his eyes flick over to Naazin, still curled up in the corner. "Naazin!" He calls and waits patiently for the crustacean to stretch out of his sleep. "Help Mawile out, then get back to training. That was a long enough nap."
Naazin turns his usually placid eyes onto the two pokémon, his harsh attention turning befuddled as he watches Mawile attempt to free himself. But the steel-type only ends up more trapped in the ever-encroaching ice of Nihanlo, losing control of his left arm and both his legs.
"You know I was meaning to ask about the Bergmite." Aidinza glances up to Jha'y'zéča-den, fingers flicking through his notepad in anticipation of the question. "She grows pretty… fast?"
"Hypercryosis." Aidinza flicks to the detailed notes he had taken when Nurse Joy had diagnosed Nihanlo, nearly three pages of some of the smallest writing Aidinza could manage. Everything from case studies to dietary differences to suspected links to increases of other disorders and write up on those disorders. He passes it over to the other boy as he continues. "Bergmite naturally have an ability known as Ice Body; they have the ability to draw moisture in from the air surrounding them to repair any cracks in their protective ice shell. Hypercryosis is when… something in their body causes their body to draw in extreme amounts of moisture."
"She needs biotin?" He asks absently as he reads the notes that Aidinza handed to him, straining to read the tiny and admittedly messy writing.
"The increased Ice mass means that the keratin that connects the ice shell to her body is under a lot of stress." Which meant cheese and spinach mixed in Nihanlo's lunch and dinner, the first real constant expense Aidinza found himself put under.
"Eeh, I'll ask Elder Unktehila to include liver in tonight's meal." Aidinza gives him a grateful nod before returning to the spectacle of watching Naazin trying to figure out how to get Mawile out of the icy coffin that was consuming him. Made all the more challenging by Mawile being incapable of sitting still and letting Naazin work. "He'll probably scrounge something up for my Haŋhépitúwe."
Aidinza hums and lets the air fall into a comfortable silence. The sun on his neck and the soft wood beneath him lulled him into a quiet mood.
He watches as Naazin finally loses his patience, snapping his firing claw around Mawile's jaw and burying his anchor claw into the excess ice Nihanlo generated, ripping the two of them apart in a display of physical strength that Naazin's ranged fighting style rarely got to demonstrate.
The newly freed pokémon go tumbling away from each other, and Nihanlo finds herself rolling in front of Aidinza. The ice type bounces to her feet, and her bright eyes beam up at her trainer as she all but bounces in place, clearly unaffected by what had just happened. Aidinza gives a small smile in return, allowing himself a quick stroke along her exposed fur, coming away with freezing, stiff fingers.
"Back to training. You almost had it." He prompts her and watches as she bounces in place before heading off to where she had been previously practising. He leans back into the sun, warming his hand against his chest.
"Haŋhépitúwe." Aidinza sounds out, the word foreign on even his tongue. "You've mentioned it a few times."
"The night of identity. Haŋhépitúwe." Jha'y'zéča-den's voice was reverent, sitting up straight and all but vibrating in place. "It is our ritual to come to age, our chance to discover what is important to us. To earn ou-"
"It is a journey of self-discovery." A gruff voice interrupts him, and Aidinza flinches around to face the new voice.
The first thing that Aidinza noticed was the sheer size. The voice belonged to a man who would not be much taller than Aidinza, yet bulged with muscles, straining against his dress shirt even as he stood there, arms crossed.
The next was that it was an older man, with a shock of stark white hair and gracefully worn wrinkles hidden beneath an immaculately groomed beard, styled into sharp lines that mimicked the strong lines of his face.
The last was the way Jha'y'zéča-den threw himself into a bow. "Dra'khí-." He coughs and tries again. "Dra'khíza-ide'en."
"Drayden, please, cousin." It took a moment for the name to register, but when it did, it was with all the force of a beartic.
Aidinza scrambled to his feet, sending his writing supplies scattering across the floor as he did so.
"Honoured Leader Drayden. The sun sings for your health!" He blurts out as he inclines his head toward the gym leader.
"You're far from your dunes, Ya'an-ah." The words were neither disbarring nor welcoming. They just seemed like a statement of fact.
"I invited him here, Itaƞcaƞ wicaṡta otokahaƞ." Aidinza almost swore he saw Drayden flinch at the title, but when he took a second look, the man's face was carved from stone.
"Drayden, please cousin." He says again, and Aidinza could visibly see Jha'y'zéča-den pull in on himself. A slump pulled at his shoulders, curling him in on himself. Drayden turned to Aidinza, brown eyes studying him for a moment.
"As I was saying, Haŋhépitúwe is a journey of self-discovery in adversity. It is meant to teach you what is important and teach you how to hold onto them." His voice had an almost hypnotic quality to it, some undertone to his deep baritone that demanded obedience. Demanded that Aidinza fall into line.
"Drayden, Itaƞcaƞ wicaṡ-." Drayden cuts him off with a glance.
"Not now, Jayden." There was something frustrated in his tone and something powerless that sent a shiver down Aidinza's spine. "Ya'an-ah. Your name." His tone was brusque as if he was trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.
"Aidinza, of the Naisho'h." Drayden's eyes glinted with recognition, and his eyes sought where Sandile was practising Dark Pulse. "Ah-na-ghai Brycen told me you had answers I sought."
Drayden's head tilts, just far enough to demand Aidinza continue.
"He told me to challenge you, to open my eyes and look." Drayden stared down at Aidinza impassively, and Aidinza met it evenly. "He told me that in doing so, I may see what I need."
"Brycen is a man of tricky tongues, as wise as stars themselves." The man who was to the Pheyan'atho as Brycen was to the Tly'an-yen, looked pensive for a moment. Lost in a thought from times past. "Careful that wisdom does not lead you blindly to lash and flame."
He sighs and turns from the two boys. "Come and eat with us. Come live as the Pheyan'atho still do. Come fight when you've mustered your strength." He steps away, his steps utterly silent despite his size. "Maybe you'll have the answers Brycen promised."
He steps out of the room, the door not even creaking in his wake.
Aidinza slowly breathes out. "Jha'y'zéča-den." He mutters, and the boy glances up at him, shoulders tight.
"Jha'y'zéča-den." He repeats, and the darker-skinned boy manages a half smile.