Echoes of Indigo: Arc 1
Wednesday, May 31st, 1978, 1600
A frigid yet familiar voice rang across the courtyard in sharp juxtaposition to the muggy summer heat. "Again. That was unsatisfactory. You'll perish in an instant like that in a real battle. I didn't birth a son for him to wilt like a delicate flower on first contact with a legitimate opponent."
I picked myself up off the ground for at least the fifth time in the past hour, doing my best to ignore the burning sensation on my back where Koga's Arbok managed to catch me with a flick of its dexterous tail. Such a giant snake had no business being as agile as the one looking at me with wry amusement just a few meters away, its tongue flickering tauntingly.
I could already tell the cruel attack had broken the skin, and badly at that. Heavy drops of blood languidly seeped down my sweat-slicked torso to pool on the flagstones below. The shimmering air was so stiflingly hot I was surprised they weren't steaming on contact.
I struggled to keep my face from displaying any signs of weakness, even though it took all my effort to ignore the line of fire starting up near the top of my back and winding sinuously down to my hip.
I stood in a large courtyard amid the sprawling facility I called home. Summer was in full swing, and every breath I took did little to assuage the rising sense of defeat growing in my chest. In fact, it made it worse.
If I could just stop breathing, I might do so. Alas, life was not so kind.
Taking a painful yet life-giving breath, I turned towards the speaker with a deep bow of my head. "Yes, ma'am. If you'll just give me one moment to catch—"
"No. Do it again, now. You won't have the luxury of asking your opponents for breaks. Again, Koga," Kiriel said with a nod to my opponent, who shifted to a ready position.
I stifled my protest; I knew better than to argue with Kiriel when she was in a mood like this. Any complaints I made would be met with scorn and biting laughter.
Just ignore her, Mare, I told myself for perhaps the thousandth time that week alone.
Across from me stood my longtime mentor, Koga Gaidoku. The stony-faced man had been my primary trainer for as long as I could remember and had accompanied me on many excursions over the previous years. I knew the wound must have been nasty when I saw the faintest flicker of hesitation in his somber eyes. Although he didn't protest, I was grateful someone had thought of me, even if not enough to act on it.
We were dressed the same: bare feet, dark canvas pants, and shirtless from the waist up. Long years of fighting had left his chest and back a veritable mass of scar tissue, and I was convinced nothing in the world could elicit even the slightest inkling of fear from the man.
I absently hoped the recent wound I incurred as a result of my carelessness didn't scar too badly. Although I could respect the intimidation factor the scars offered him, I had no intention of joining him if I could help it. But I was off to a rough start, frankly, and was still coming to terms with the fact I would likely join him sooner rather than later.
I couldn't tell how old he was, and I hardly knew anything about him other than he was honor-bound to serve Kiriel until she released him from her service. I didn't know all the details, but I was under the impression she had done something to save his life in the previous war.
It was an odd situation, as Koga was the head of one of the Seiichi branch families. He stood directly in line to inherit the clan if anything happened to Kiriel or Sula. One of the few details I knew about him was that he planned on starting a family when he was dismissed. In sporadic moments of levity, he spoke of his dreams for a son.
Given the timing and intensity of our current bout, I suspected Kiriel would let him off the hook as soon as I left on my journey. It made me happy to think of the rugged man smiling gently at a newborn child. His own child, one that he could rear as he saw fit.
"Mare. Stop dawdling," Kiriel ordered with a look of disapproval. "Distracted thoughts will get you killed."
"Yes, ma'am. Eon, Nana. We're up again," I commanded. Next to me, my pokemon mechanically prepared for yet another round.
As a son of the Seiichi, we were assigned two starting pokemon when we turned ten. I had been offered various choices and eventually settled on a Growlithe and Eevee, both of which had been bred from the best of stock and hand raised until they were old enough for service.
Eon, my Eevee, stood at attention, looking ready for war despite the flicker of white rib I could see poking out from a nasty looking wound on her side. She looked back at me, giving a resolute nod before settling back into a ready position. Despite her determined stance, her sides heaved with exhaustion, and her normally well-groomed fur was slick with blood: several patches had completely dissolved from the repeated acid exposure the Seiichi were notorious for.
Yet she still stood strong.
Nana, my Growlithe, wasn't in much better shape, having been poisoned several times throughout the training session. White foam coated his maw from too much effort and not enough oxygen. I knew he would go til he dropped, however. They both would.
I was fifteen and had been partnered with these two for five years. Per training protocol, we had hardly been separated during that time. It gave us an unshakeable bond, and I knew they would die for me if I only gave the word.
In fact, it was almost understood that clan pokemon would inevitably give their life for their charges in the heat of battle.
I stretched my arms overhead, making sure I retained enough mobility to avoid being clobbered in the first few seconds. I did, but I was aching from the impressive variety of methods my training partner had dispatched me with over the last few hours. The goal of our current 'game' was for Koga to take me down in any way necessary. I was supposed to do the same to him.
In theory, at least.
In practice, it usually turned into a dodging session with me frantically evading the terrifying ninja and his vicious poison-type team until he invariably caught me with a fist or bone-breaking kick if I was lucky.
I considered the tail-whip I had recently received a lucky break. Koga's Arbok notoriously went out of her way to poison me with a non-lethal toxin that left me shaking and retching for hours afterward. I was convinced she was privately a sadist, but I had the wisdom to keep that to myself. I had long since learned running my mouth did me no favors.
"Begin!" Shouted Kiriel from atop a raised platform positioned to view any point in the courtyard.
"Nana, use a broad-field Flamethrower to force Arbok back. Eon, stay with me and look for an opening when Koga gets closer," I ordered as I moved to create space from our opponents. My pokemon immediately carried out the orders. Nana opened his maw, releasing a roiling stream of fire several meters wide towards his target, and Eon meticulously maneuvered beneath me as I backpedaled.
Without a word, Koga and Arbok broke into motion. Koga was far faster than he looked and sprinted straight towards me, rolling underneath the flames and popping out just a few meters from us, his limbs up and ready to lash out as soon as an opportunity arose.
Simultaneously, Arbok reared her head and plunged into the ground below, seamlessly dividing the hard stones as if they were mere water in an impressive display of ground type-energy manipulation. In an instant, the cobra's five-meter length was nowhere to be seen.
Shit. Dig is such a broken move!
A sense of despondency settled over my team at the rapid pace of the match. We were simply too exhausted to respond effectively. But we would try our best regardless. Koga clearly wanted to get this over with and return to his family.
Or, maybe he wants to put me out of my misery quickly? I idly wondered as I eyed Koga warily.
Nana had to cut off his flames lest he risk torching Eon and myself. He had the good sense to lunge at Koga with his jaws opened wide, but the ninja glimmered with a sheen of pale white energy and moved impossibly fast to dodge the nearly point-blank attack. Nana shot past him, caught his paw on an uprooted flagstone, and tumbled unceremoniously to the ground with a startled yelp. Purple foam oozed out of his mouth as he tried and failed to get back up.
Fuck, he's finally down, I concluded with a shake of my head as I redirected my attention back to the charging ninja. Arceus damned poison.
Eon and I continued backwards as fast as we could, reluctant to engage directly. Eevee were by no means an offensively powerful pokemon, so we had played to her strengths and worked on utility and durability over raw power. As such, she usually stayed in my shadow, looking for opportunities to absorb attacks meant for me or latch on with her fangs if the chance arose.
Unfortunately, I was too slow to match Koga's bastardized quick attack, and he caught me before I could move out of the range his longer limbs provided.
His knee came up lightning-quick, but I diffused the force painfully by crossing my arms out in front of me. I was nearly sure I heard a crack at the blow. Without hesitation, he launched into a series of rapid jabs that I barely managed to avoid via short hops backward. My muscles burned with effort as I strained to catch each blow.
Keeping pace beneath me, Eon launched a cloud of crackling golden stars towards Koga, and the projectiles melted into his torso with the distinctive popping staccato reminiscent of boiling water. The stoic man didn't so much as grunt in pain, even though I knew the attack would surely leave deep bruises if not outright internal bleeding.
Koga skidded to a stop, choosing not to keep up the offensive for some reason. Maybe the Swift did more damage than I thought?
The dodging had left me breathing hard, weary with exhaustion as I was. Eon and I circled around to his left cautiously, trying to keep the sun to our backs for the small advantage it offered.
Koga observed me calmly before looking to Kiriel for something. Permission, perhaps? I cocked my head at the odd move before recalling too late the missing snake.
With a crash, Arbok shot out of a hastily made hole in the ground and latched her jaws hard onto my shoulder. It wasn't a playful bite, and I could feel her non-lethal venom making its way into my pumping arteries.
I had the good grace to mutter, "Fuck. Forgot about her," before everything faded to black.
Thursday, June 1st, 1978, 0700
Shadows fled as white-hot fire surged along the edges of the rocky plateau, its crags bordered with towering cliffs on either side. It was dark out, and smoke hung heavy in the air. On the far side of the natural arena stood a towering behemoth of a pokémon; tan fur covered its abdomen and torso, and silvery streams of scar tissue ran like delicate veins across its ravaged body.
Flames billowed from her back as she struggled to maintain the intense line of fire emanating from her mouth, eyes darting back and forth from the target to the trainer standing behind her.
Catching a simple nod from her partner, the Typhlosion redoubled its efforts to make contact, eyes hardening in resolution. A narrow beam of flame lanced towards its adversary. The pokémon sported a coat of orange fur with jagged lines of black crisscrossing back and forth, topped with a lustrous blonde mane.
The Arcanine's form blurred from its rapid repositioning. After repeatedly evading the laser-like attack, it landed just to the side of the Typhlosion, rearing back and unleashing a devastating inferno. The pokemon screeched in pain as the conflagration made contact.
The attack was powerful enough that it ripped through whatever innate defenses the pokémon had, violently blackening its leg, its stomach, its chest. Within seconds, shards of marble white shone through.
The Pokémon's scream escalated in pitch as its flesh continued to slough off. The unrelenting assault continued for another achingly long moment before abruptly ending as the Arcanine collapsed, whining in agony from the aftershocks of its own attack. All that remained of the Typhlosion's corpse was a smoldering pile of fur and bone, any cries for help echoing without answer in the evening light.
A darkened form stepped from behind Arcanine before speaking up in a ragged and indistinct voice. "Get up. We have more to do." Reluctantly, the Arcanine stood up, methodically moving towards the sobbing and defeated trainer, shaking off the smoke clinging to its body. The tears quickly evaporated as the temperature climbed.
I awoke with a gasp, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. I blinked awake, using my fingers to wipe the remnants of sleep away. I hated poison-induced dreams. This wasn't the first time I had experienced horrific nightmares after a run-in with Arbok, but this was definitely the worst to date. The dream had been vivid enough felt like I had personally ordered Nana to mercilessly put down an enemy trainer's pokemon. I knew I might have to someday, but I couldn't help but interpret the ill-timed dream as a bad omen.
I took a deep and controlled breath as I fought to relax my overwhelmed nervous system. Breathe in, breathe out. Take a sip of air whenever you think your lungs are full, pushing them to their limits. Slowly release it. Do this, and you can activate your parasympathetic nervous system, slowing your heart rate and contractility.
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I had been taught this for years, yet I remained skeptical. Nonetheless, I followed Kiriel's teachings. Ignoring the knot of anguish in my gut was difficult, but I tried my best.
Like I always did, no matter the circumstances.
After breathing slowly for five minutes, I slid out of bed with a groan. Every ache and pain from the previous day slammed into me, and I sat heavily back down to collect myself. Gathering my tired will, I forced myself to confront the day as I had a thousand times before.
Despite my station, my room was quite plain. In traditional fashion, my bed was a small, padded mattress on the ground. Kiriel believed anything other than a life of stoicism softened you and lessened your potential as a human, but my aching back suggested otherwise. The rest of the spartan room contained only a mirror, pail of water, and a minimalist washroom stocked with only the barest of necessities to function.
I found it ironic that although we technically lived in one of the most developed regions in the world, I barely experienced the luxury due to my family's strict adherence to depriving ourselves of simple pleasures like an actual bed.
Or running water, for that matter.
I hobbled to the mirror to prepare for the day. I splashed my face with lukewarm water from the pail, running my hands through my hair to straighten it out in an attempt to ignore how sweaty and gross I felt—not how I wanted to start off.
Usually, I could get up and out of bed in seconds, but this morning felt different. Off, somehow.
I twisted to examine the crusted scabs I incurred from the poorly named 'snake's kiss.' The slight movement made me gasp in pain, but I bore through it to assess the damage. The punctures burned deep into my deltoid, but it looked like there wasn't going to be too much drainage. I could deal with it.
My back was a different story. It was covered with sickly green and purple bruises, and the slash from Arbok's whip-like tail had scoured my flesh nearly through to the hardened muscle below. It was neatly stitched up. I assumed one of the clan staff had taken the opportunity afforded by my inelegant faint to patch it up as well as they could, given the circumstances.
I shook my head, trying to put the injuries out of my mind. It wouldn't do to be distracted today. I stared myself down in the mirror, trying to quiet my racing thoughts.
What a shit fucking day already, I thought with a sad smile. Of course I would have the most Arceus damned foreboding dream of all time on the day I finally get to leave home on my own terms.
Shaking my head in resigned amusement, I breathed in and out slowly, letting the water drip down my chest and shoulders. I enjoyed the calming sensation as it diverted my attention from the unease trickling through my body.
Somewhat refreshed from the pseudo-shower, I took in my appearance and grimaced, my face contorting into a look of distaste at my appalling posture.
My shoulders were pinched upwards with stress, and I appeared small and nervous. I took a moment to visually adjust my posture, using the mirror to guide my chest forward and pull my shoulder blades down.
A few minor corrections later, I was satisfied with what I saw. Although I felt acutely apprehensive internally, my supposed 'duty' as one of the Seiichi was to ensure I never displayed a single hint of vulnerability to anyone, not even family.
It's what I was born to do. Or what I was supposed to do, at any rate.
I was of fairly average height, with tan skin seasoned from long hours of sunlight. My dark brown hair just barely reached past my shoulders in silky waves.
My eyes weren't the nice and friendly light brown people looked for in pokémon plushies. Instead, they were so dark as to be nearly black, giving me a haunted look. I've been told that I came across as a bit intense from a young age.
Much to my dismay, I inherited my mother's delicate features and was frequently teased for appearing quite feminine. It's cute when you're nine, but I had grown increasingly disenchanted with my genetics as the years passed.
Right now, much to my disappointment, I appeared exhausted. Hints of shadows showed through the thin skin under my eyes, and they were puffy with sleep deprivation. I gathered my hair into thick strands, taking a few moments to weave it into a tight braid.
I had always wanted to shave my head, but Kiriel insisted that warriors should wear their hair long as a sign of honor.
I chuckled to myself with derision, thinking of the repeated losses I had incurred this week.
Warrior? Hardly.
I spent most of my time getting my ass kicked by my trainers, not to mention my older sister, Sula. I didn't really get it, but I wasn't afforded any leeway to step out of line.
So far, anyway, but I didn't plan to leave it that way forever.
"Mare! Breakfast is in ten minutes! You better not be late; today is a big day!" my sister called out in her classic bossy tone, easily piercing through the thin walls and snapping me out of my all-too-serious staring contest with the mirror.
"I'll be right out! Hang on a sec," I replied as I rolled my eyes at the mirror, all too used to Sula's domineering personality.
The sliding door to my room slammed open, and my older sister stormed in. Her intensity was palpable, like the quiet yet intense energy suffusing the air before a thunderstorm. Her long brown hair was nearly identical in color to mine but was instead tied up in a series of complex braids that hung loosely down her back, almost touching her bottom.
At seventeen, Sula was two years my senior and was one of the top trainers of the League this year. She had stormed through every Gym her first year before being ruthlessly slammed at the Indigo Conference in the second round, not even making it out of the group stages.
In Sula's defense, she lost out to a career trainer who had made it to the quarterfinals for the previous two years. She made it to the top four in her second year, only losing to the eventual conference champion.
This year, I knew her assignment was to beat every Gym's personal team before hopefully crushing the competition in a bid to challenge the Elite Four. She had been training hard all spring, dragging me along on various trips almost every week.
We visited every city in Kanto and even a few in Johto and Hoenn so as to experience the wider world to avoid being, in Kiriel's words, "bogged down by the antiquated mindset that led Kanto into too many wars."
Sula had an angular frame with high cheekbones and a lithe physique. People often said we looked like twins, which I hated. We were nothing alike. She was dressed in a red and white silk kimono with depictions of leaping flames; her usual outfit when she wasn't on the road adventuring. Sula radiated muted aggression behind our shared dark eyes.
"Yo. You good? I heard what happened," she asked softly as she paced around my room impatiently. The light tapping of her footsteps made me even more nervous than I already was, somehow.
"Yes. Barely. Koga's Arceus damned snake still hasn't learned to take it easy," I complained while putting the finishing touches on my hair. "The poison was definitely overkill, and I'm already more scarred than a fifteen-year-old has any right to be."
"No kidding," she said sympathetically, a rare gentle look in her eyes. "Seems like excessive violence right before you leave. Anywayssss, you'll have to get over it! Injuries are part of the experience. You're young, you'll be right as rain in no time!"
I narrowly avoided rolling my eyes at Sula's dismissive comment. It was par for the course in my family. Any complaint, however legitimate, was met with some variety of 'get over it', 'it's character building', or 'stop complaining, weakling.'
What a lovely family I have, I thought wryly.
"Thanks, Sula. It's nothing I can't handle at this point. Enough about me. Can I help you? It's not like you to wake me up for breakfast. Something wrong?"
I caught her eyes, probing for the ulterior reason I knew must lurk behind her uncharacteristically kind words. Sula was normally the type to laugh at my suffering, so I could tell something was up.
She fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable, before answering, "Legendaries, Mare! You got me. I hate how perceptive you are. Nothing wrong, per se. I was just thinking about, well, you, ya know?"
I blinked, not expecting that response. "You'll have to be more specific," I said drily. "Out with whatever is on your mind. You're weirding me out! Who are you, and what did you do with my big sister?"
"Okay, that's enough from you," Sula pouted, puffing her cheeks out. "I just wanted to check in before you left. I don't know what you're feeling, exactly, but I assume it's not easy being my little brother. I can be worried about you if I want."
"Wow, that's so insightful for you. You're somewhat right, though; it's not exactly easy being related to the 'pokemon prodigy'," I teased as I watched a frown work its way onto her face.
Sula hated the moniker, but I brought it up every chance I could get just to see her squirm.
"Marrreee, come on. Don't be like that. I'm serious! Are you okay?"
I considered giving a vague platitude to dispel her concerns, but decided I might as well be open with her since I wouldn't see her for most of the next year. Love her or hate her, Sula was the person I spent the most time with from a young age and I had deep appreciation for her overall, even if she was a self-centered, arrogant teen.
"The wait has really been the worst part, honestly. Of all people, you know how hard I've been prepping without being able to do anything, or even see how I measure up. Now, at least, I can get out there and do something. It'll be nice to finally see how I compare against other trainers my age instead of getting pummeled all the time. I don't know if Nana or Eon can take losing much longer. I don't know if I can, either," I confided.
Sula paused, taking in my statement. "I guess you're right; mom is pretty intense about things here. I know she's been tough on you. Tougher than she needed to be. It's been less stressful on the road than when I'm at home with her during the off-season, that's for sure! I know we're going our different ways starting today, but I hope you trust me enough to reach out if you're struggling. I think I had it a lot easier than you, honestly. There was nothing for me to be compared to besides mom, but it wasn't like there was any direct pressure to be as good as her right away."
She looked away, breaking eye contact as she stared absently out the window before continuing, "Sure, there were definitely high expectations, but it wasn't in the same way as what you have right now. I think. Anyway, people will probably talk, and it might not all be good, so I hope you're prepared. Just reach out if you need someone to talk with. Did that make sense? It's still early, and my brain is foggy," she said, spinning around and cocking her head with a hand on her hip in a dramatic thinking pose.
How nice of her to think of her struggling younger brother, I thought, bitterness surging in my chest. It's always like this.
Although I knew she had the best of intentions, her pity made my blood boil. Per usual, I suppressed the feeling, choosing to keep up the neutral façade I attempted to maintain at all times. Showing weakness was considered something of a sin for the Seiichi leadership and it was deeply entrenched in my being at this point.
"Thanks for your concern, dearest sister. If I need help, I'll be sure to reach out," I said, although I privately detested the very thought of crawling to her for anything.
"Mare—" Sula started, but I cut her off with a wave of my hand, picking up on her disapproval instantly.
Ignoring her glare, I elaborated in my most sincere tone, "No, for real—I know you're the only other person who understands my situation, even if it's not quite the same. I promise I'll call you if I need something. For all your bluster and cockiness, I know you care. I'll do my best to ignore any unwanted commentary, regardless of its source. We both know I have years of practice after all," I said bitterly, thinking about the barbed words whispered in passing I had to deal with daily in the compound.
Sula gave me a slow nod. "I do care, and don't you forget it. Even if you're not as good a trainer as me, I'll still be proud of you! You have much more to offer than just being a copy or a backup or something. Don't let mom get you down. She's just hard on you because she sees your potential! I think, anyway. I'm headed off to breakfast. You comin' with?"
"I'll be right behind you! I still need to get dressed, unless you somehow didn't notice I'm still in my nightwear. Distract Kiriel for me, will you? The last thing I need today is Kiriel on my ass for being seconds late," I asked with a smile as she started off toward the dining hall with a dismissive wave.
She was obviously feeling less worried about me after our short conversation. Sula was simple like that, and she was easy to deceive as long as I kept a smile plastered to my face.
I glanced around my empty room, searching for a decent outfit. I had never been much for style, preferring function over appearance whenever possible. However, given that today was the first day of my journey, I wanted to be semi-passable and definitely comfortable. I rarely interacted with others my age and wanted to set myself up for success in any way I could.
The only clothes we had around here were more formal than the general population ever wore, so I was really only able to grab some dark canvas pants, calf-high soft leather boots, and a beige dress shirt that landed just below my waist with lots of space to keep the cloth from clinging in the heat.
Everything else we had was basically robes, so this was the best I could do. I scowled when I thought of the odd looks I knew I would receive walking around Fuchsia later this morning. The normal attire most trainers wore consisted of some variety of hiking boots and a comfortable flannel top or t-shirt—not the archaic robes and tunics the Seiichi clan were known for.
I found my backpack and tried to put together at least three decent outfits for my travels.
Sula had told me that if you packed anything less, you stunk half the time, and anything more, your pack would be too bulky. If I didn't do it, I knew one of the servants would likely only make it worse as they followed Kiriel's commands to the letter; this was my small attempt at rebellion, and I didn't want to start my journey in a fragile kimono if I could help it.
Before leaving for breakfast, I made sure to make my bed, clean up my mirror, and leave my bedroom in some semblance of acceptable condition for the staff. I had spent my entire life in this room but had never developed any substantial attachment to the place. I felt all too happy to move on to something different. Something hopefully better.
I grabbed my belt and two red metal balls clanked as I strapped it on. Koga had likely returned my pokemon to their balls after the match. He was generally considerate of small things like that despite his surly exterior.
After I finished packing my bag, I headed out to the hallway, closing the sliding door for hopefully the last time.
Our home was beyond extravagant. I was keenly aware that we were much better off than the average family in Fuchsia, but sometimes, even I found my house absurd.
The compound boasted natural hardwood floors, and just outside my room was one of our many gardens, located in the central space of the portion of the compound dedicated to housing main clan members. The house was built around a natural spring, leaving space for grass and water pokémon to relax in peace as they enjoyed the ambient elemental energy.
As I glanced outside, I noticed Kiriel's Tentacruel lounging around the spring while a Vileplume dozed off nearby. The tentacled beast acknowledged me with a lazy wave of his limbs before settling back down to enjoy the cool water with a quiet burble of contentment. I waved back with as much excitement as I could muster this early in the morning, matching the water type's drowsy energy.
Kiriel often left out even her strongest within the confines of our home, but it's something I had long acclimated to over the years after the initial shock wore off from running into a giant pokémon while getting up to pee at night. Having a room across from an indoor pokémon habitat indeed came with its own set of unique issues!
Still, I gazed in admiration at the sight of the two fully evolved pokémon, as I did nearly every day after waking. I continued on to the dining hall, bracing myself for the storm I knew was coming.
Our dining room was an ample open space near the entrance to the compound; I didn't say compound lightly—this place was huge. We had inherited the property from the Seiichi Clan, Kiriel's ancestral family.
Known for their expertise and precision in all things, my mother-—Kiriel Seiichi—was the current clan head and ran the Gym here in Fuchsia City. She would be starting her thirteenth season as leader today.
Thirteen was critical; gym leaders were allocated a maximum term of fifteen years based on performance and popularity.
Beyond serving in their standard function of managing the Gym, they worked as something of a de-facto liaison between the local government and The Indigo League.
Although they were technically subservient to the League, most Gym leaders managed small city-states that were largely independent.
The League system was relatively new, only implemented after the Kanto-Johto War of Unification just under two decades ago. For most of Kanto's history, the clans operated on their own terms, only cooperating in the case of natural disasters like legendary attacks or floods.
The Fuchsia area was home to nearly 200,000 people and was one of Kanto's less densely populated regions. Kiriel was among the first generation of leaders participating in the modern league circuit. She had three years left, including this year, in her term before the League would select the next leader out of many possible applicants.
Thus, my sister and I had basically been groomed to take over the leader position, assuming that either of us could step up. Assuming is a bit of a stretch, as Kiriel set such a ridiculously high bar that even if Sula or I could take things over, everyone would likely still be disappointed.
As I continued towards the dining hall, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of celebration they had planned for me! I vividly remembered Sula's sendoff; Kiriel had halted all clan operations for the week to celebrate Sula's departure.
We hadn't even been able to use our normal breakfast area and instead had set up a large pavilion outside the compound to host the huge crowd! There was food and music, and it was one of my fondest memories. I set my thoughts aside, taking another deep breath before excitedly turning the corner into the dining hall.
When I arrived, I tilted my head in barely concealed confusion, absorbing the situation that awaited me; Kiriel was in her usual position at the head of the table, with my dad to her left. However, to her right were two people I only scarcely recognized.
This is all wrong. What the hell is going on?