The wailing winds of the sandstorm surrounded Brendan and his team, casting them in darkness as they stood across from a gargantuan creature in the depths of the storm. He couldn’t make out the exact shape of the creature. Only bits of it were illuminated by the bright orange flash of the intermittent lightning. The creature was made of sand, like someone had made a sand dune come to life and rage.
He commanded his team valiantly against the sand-creature, but their attacks were rattata bites to a salamence. They were helpless against the beast, Brendan most of all. Glimmer was the first to go, swallowed by an almighty wave of sand from the creature. Dancer and Sentry went next. The magneton was grabbed by a stream of sand and engulfed in the beast’s vast maw. Dancer dove in after the electric type even as Brendan called out for her not to. He lost Rogue when the foolhardy crustacean tried to take a blow meant for Lurantis. His prized protect only lasted a moment before it collapsed, the strike hardly having slowed as it hit the water type. Brendan beat back tears as the gales blew streams of sand like whips against his skin.
The cracks of orange lightning became more frequent as the beast closed in on him and Lurantis. He looked at Lurantis in despair, angry at his uselessness. His best friend laid a leaf-scythe on his shoulder in comfort, then heaved him up and threw him into the distance. Brendan laid in the sand wide-eyed in disbelief, watching as Lurantis made a shooing motion before turning to face the approaching creature.
Brendan scrambled to his feet and towards Lurantis screaming denials, but his friend and the beast were obscured by a wall of sand that materialized in front of him. The wall washed over him, blinding him momentarily. When the storm cleared and he could see, he found himself in the middle of the sea of dunes again. He could see shapes that looked like his team in the distance, though.
Ecstatic at the thought, he rushed toward them. He crested dune after dune in his mad sprint, but the figures never appeared any closer. He ran, and ran, and ran, so long that he had long lost track of the time. Those tantalizing figures were always in the distance, though. Eventually he collapsed in exhaustion.
After a moment of rest Brendan struggled to his feet, ready for another trek, when he froze. Right in front of him was a boulder that for some reason filled him with dread. Something deep down was telling him that whatever lay on the other side of the boulder was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
Brendan shook himself out of the spiralling feelings and steeled his courage as he went around the boulder. Coming around the side, he felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight that awaited him. Slumped against the side of the boulder was the body of a trainer, so desiccated as to be nearly unrecognizable. There was something familiar about it though, something that tickled the most primordial parts of Brendan’s brain and said “dangerous, don’t think about this. It will only hurt if you do.” Brendan was determined to figure it out, though, and scrutinized the body. The first thing he noticed was a PokeNav clutched in the body’s hands. He picked it up and tried to turn it on to no avail; it was broken. The clothing worn by the trainer was bleached by the sun, but the style looked familiar. It hit him as he looked at the beanie on the body’s head. It was exactly the same as the one he wore now, the one he’d always worn for the last few years.
As he realized this it was like a switch was flipped in his brain and now he could recognize the body, his body. He fell backwards in horror, shuffling backwards to get away from the wrongness. He could only stare as the wind blew towards him, causing the desiccated body to crumble into dust. He tried to scream only to inhale the dust and choke on it.
Brendan woke with a gasp, his brain still convinced it was choking on the dust made from his own body. His breath came in quick, ragged gasps, the adrenaline fading all too slowly. It took all Brendan’s willpower to stop from hyperventilating. Recovering from the panic, he felt like he’d run a marathon. He’d never had such a nightmare before. Still groggy, it was a moment before the obvious hit him, and when it did he sat up straight, neurons active at full capacity.
He was alive!
He looked down at his body in disbelief. His arms were bandaged expertly with some kind of unfamiliar cloth and a foul smelling poultice was smeared beneath the bandages. The same balm was applied liberally on the rest of his cracked and sun-burnt skin. The coolness of the poultice was heaven-sent.
Looking up from the wounds, he took in his surroundings. He laid on a threadbare cot in a small tent. He noticed that the ground was still the sun-bleached sand of the desert so wherever he’d been taken hadn’t been too far. Who had found him, though, and how? He’d not been too far from death; the chances of someone stumbling upon him in the Heart of the Desert of all places must have been astronomical. It had to have been one of the nomadic trainers said to sometimes roam the Heart. Regardless, he owed whoever it was his life. The thought caused Brendan to shiver as a chill spread through him in spite of the heat.
Brendan saw his backpack in the corner and all of his pokeballs attached to it, thankfully. He relaxed minutely; the last worry before he blacked out had been for his team. Trying to get out of the cot caused spasms of pain so intense he nearly blacked out from the attempt. Clearly his injuries were worse than he’d realised. He settled for trying to call out for his savior. His mouth was dry as the desert he sat in, however, and he only succeeded after he noticed a full canteen lying next to the cot. He croaked out.
“Hello? Is someone out there?”
Brendan didn’t hear any human response but he did hear the excited calls of his team as they rushed into the small tent, crowding around him as close as possible. He relished in the sight of friends, thankful beyond words for the chance to see them again. Rogue, Dancer, Lurantis, and Sentry stopped just shy of crawling onto the cot with him. He thought that if he weren’t injured even that bit of space would be taken. He could hear Glimmer’s mournful cries at being unable to fit in the tent, so he told Dancer to hold open the tent flaps so he could see her.
The next few hours were spent basking in the joy of their reunion. His savior was apparently out of the camp right now, according to his team. With the help of Dancer and Lurantis he was able to move from the cot to a stool outside the tent to see Glimmer. The poor rock type was so excited she wanted to nuzzle him but too afraid of hurting him that she always stopped just short. He compromised with having her sit next to him with his arm resting on her carapace.
The camp was smaller than he’d expected, only two or three tents set up in a triangle with an awning stretching between them for shade. He noted a few things out of the ordinary though. He could see a portable healing device of the same kind owned by Professor Birch that he knew cost an astronomical sum. Along with the healing device he noticed a few appliances around powered by a small generator. While not typically out of the ordinary, all the stories he’d heard of the nomad trainers of the desert painted them as traditionally eschewing such modern comforts. Perhaps his savior was a bit of a black mareep amongst the nomads.
Brendan supposed he’d find out as his attention was drawn to a flying shape in the distance headed straight for the camp. The shape was unlike a standard bird pokemon, and there was a human figure seated atop it. Brendan would have liked to stand to greet his savior but even the thought caused shooting pains down his sides. He’d have to settle for sitting up a little straighter.
The pokemon and its rider glided gracefully into the camp, where Brendan got his first view of his savior. Predictably, Brendan’s attention was first drawn to the magnificent flygon the man rode. It was lithe and sinuous, but its thin limbs packed a deceptive power. The flygon was clearly in its prime and every motion displayed the inherent power as the ground seemed to rise up and meet the dragon in joy upon descending. It looked placid; the species had the reputation of being a bit more mellow than most dragons, but the draconic instinct was still there, just below the surface.
Brendan had to tear his eyes away from the dragon pokemon to study his savior. The man was lean and scruffy, with dark tanned skin like leather, a mop of untamed silver hair, and a messily-braided beard. He was clearly past middle-aged, but how far Brendan couldn’t tell. His brown eyes held kindness in them, though, as he slid off the back of the flygon and walked towards Brendan. Brendan eyed his team curiously as they separated to let the man past; they must like him at least a bit to do that with no grumbling. The man strode up to him, laying a hand on Glimmer as he passed to rub a spot that Brendan had noticed tended to be sore from the weight of her carapace. He stopped in front of Brendan on the stool, staring at him as if he was scrutinizing a new species of pokemon. He finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly.
“You’re lucky to be alive.”
That short sentence made Brendan flinch, his hands tightening into fists and face paling as he remembered the last bit of his desert sojourn. Rogue trilled threateningly at the man for upsetting Brendan, but was quelled with just a glare from the grizzled man. Brendan closed his eyes in an attempt to beat down the panic that threatened to overwhelm him again.
“You’ve no idea how fortunate you are your tin can over there found me before you kicked it.”
The man nodded at Sentry as he spoke, receiving a low buzz from the magneton. Brendan hadn’t realized Sentry had brought the man to him. He smiled gratefully at his friend, trying to convey how thankful he was to the stoic steel type. His attention was brought back to his rescuer when the man spoke again.
“What the hell were you even doing out here so deep in the Heart? Some kinda macho idea about how it wouldn’t be that bad?”
The man regarded him like he was looking at someone who shouldn’t even be left alone to tie their own shoes. Brendan decided to speak up before he got the wrong idea.
“I didn’t mean to be there. I have no idea how I got there actually.”
The man blinked in surprise, then fetched another stool and sat down. He then pulled out a long pipe from somewhere and lit it, blowing out a ring of fragrant smoke. The pipe caught Brendan’s eye as it was retrieved. It was long, reaching from the man’s lips nearly down to the ground as he sat there. The pipe seemed to be made of some kind of horn and there were intricate carvings down its length depicting several pokemon, including a flygon. After a few puffs, the man settled in and spoke again.
“Alright, explain. Ain’t no way someone can get that lost.”
Brendan took a drink from the canteen he’d carried outside.
“Well I had no plans to even get near the Heart of the Desert. I was following the route north of Mauville that goes through the Inner Desert, though not too far in-”
The man interrupted him.
“I’m familiar with it. How’d that end up with you in the Heart?”
Brendan nearly glared at the man for the interruption, but just sighed instead.
“Right. Like I said we were following that route when we saw a small sandstone tower that wasn’t marked on the map at all, and was too close to the route to be unknown.”
The man groaned in annoyance but didn’t interrupt further.
“We ended up having to take shelter in the tower as the worst sandstorm we’d seen popped up out of nowhere. We explored the tower, which was nearly bare except for the top floor where we found a dais with a fossil resting on it. We battled another guy that ended up there for the fossil. After the battle, though, the tower just collapsed in on itself and I must have blacked out in the fall. When I woke up, I was already in the Heart. I still have no idea how that happened. I didn’t know where I was in comparison to anything, so I just chose a direction and started walking.”
His throat was still raw, so he stopped to take another drink from the canteen. The older man was sitting there thoughtfully, sporadically puffing on the long pipe. He no longer looked as if he thought Brendan was an idiot, thankfully.
“I think I know what happened to you.” he said after a long drag of the pipe.
Brendan blinked in surprise.
“Really? What do you think happened?”
“Well, that tower you found sounds mighty familiar. Seen a quite a few of ‘em over the years. The local ghosts set ‘em up with something shiny they’ve scrounged up, usually a fossil or some kinda gem, then collapse ‘em with travellers inside. They like the fear I think. Sounds like you got one of the more malicious ones, though, that decided to teleport you into the Heart to boot. I’ll need to contact the matriarch and tell her to crack down on the ghosts.”
The man explained what happened, mumbling the last bit as an afterthought. Brendan was struck speechless. His whole ordeal, the maddening trek through the desert and his breakdown at the end were caused by something so senseless as a ghost playing a trick. Shaking himself from his stupor, he tried not to think about it, and instead spoke to his savior.
“Regardless of how it happened, thank you for saving me. I’m truly grateful for the rescue.”
He saw the other man grin for the first time as he responded.
“Haha well you’d be better off thanking the tin can there. I’d never have found you if it hadn’t found me first and zapped me. If magneton had balls it’d have big ones; I was riding Taiowa at the time.”
He motioned to the flygon who’d long since taken off again, flying large circles around the camp.
“Truth be told, I couldn’t let a young trainer die after I found you like that. Wasn’t too much effort to fly you back to the camp. Though you were in rough shape, make no mistake. Good thing you slept for a few days or you’d be feelin’ even worse than I can tell you already do.”
The reminder brought the pain Brendan had been suppressing to the fore. The itching was the worst, though. Everywhere the sun had burnt his skin itched horribly. The man continued, oblivious or uncaring of the suffering Brendan.
“You oughta be fine in about a week, maybe two. Then you can get on your way again. Don’t worry, I won’t charge you rent.”
The older man laughed uproariously at his own joke, while Brendan just stared deadpan at him. Brendan realized he didn’t even know the man’s name, so he asked. The man took another long drag from the pipe before answering.
“Name’s Victor, kid. You?”
“Brendan Yuki, rookie trainer from Littleroot Town.”
Victor scratched his head in confusion for a moment.
“Littleroot? Never heard of it. It in Hoenn?”
Brendan was flabbergasted. How long had it been since this man left the desert? Littleroot had been built in response to the success of Samuel Oak’s Pallet Town nearly thirty years ago. Brendan explained where and how Littleroot Town had been built.
“Huh.. Birch, that name sounds familiar.”
Victor mused, still smoking the enormous pipe.
“Doesn’t matter if I know him I suppose. So you’re a rookie trainer, then? Look a little old just to be starting. Did they change the legal age for training recently or something?”
Even after he’d started his journey the mention of the delay his father forced on him caused Brendan to tense up in anger. This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed by Victor.
“Whoa, easy. Didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”
Brendan forced himself to calm; the man had no idea about what had happened to him.
“It’s alright, it’s just a long story.”
“Well, we ain’t got nothing but time while you’re healing. Out with it, might make you feel better. Been told I was a good listener. That was longer ago than you’ve been alive though.”
Victor grumbled good-naturedly and Brendan smiled in response. Beneath his gruff exterior the man seemed amiable. Brendan slowly explained his background in-between drinking copious amounts of water to stave off the soreness of his throat. Victor followed along, nodding and clicking his tongue at the appropriate moments.
“That ain’t right, trying to stifle a trainer like that. And from a gym leader no less. Looks like they’ve let the position go since I’ve been out and about. You did the right thing, boy. That’s how we used to do it back in my day. Just you, a pokeball, and the wild. You ain’t done so bad for yourself so far either. Got a nice looking team.”
Victor seemed quite offended by how his father had acted, and the support made Brendan smile, even from someone he barely knew. He looked over at his team, most of which had gone off to do their own thing by now. Dancer was meditating a few feet away. Lurantis and Rogue were sparring out in the dunes. Ever-stoic Sentry hovered near his shoulder, and he offered a smile to the magneton with the assurance that he’d be fine if the electric type wanted to do its own thing. It merely hummed and stayed in place. He saw that Glimmer was playing with a few vibrava that he assumed were Taiowa’s brood. Brendan studied the vibrava closely.
The flygon line had an interesting life cycle. They hatched as trapinch, which were nearly ninety percent stomach and jaws. That stage was fairly short and consisted primarily of eating. As they matured they evolved into vibrava, gaining the dragon type. During this stage the fathering flygon would rear them, teaching them to fly and hunt, and harness their powers. They spent a fairly long time accumulating life energy as a vibrava before they could evolve into flygon.
Interestingly enough, an individual trapinch or vibrava was genderless. They only developed gender specific characteristics upon evolution to flygon. Historically researchers had disagreed over the typing of the flygon line as well. Vibrava and flygon exhibited quite a few traits in common with the bug type, going so far as to naturally learn quite a few bug moves. The motion to classify them as bug types was struck down on the basis of them not sharing any weaknesses inherent to bugs, however.
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Shaking himself from his thoughts he finally turned back to Victor to respond.
“Yes, they’re great. I couldn’t ask for better friends.”
Victor looked out at Glimmer playing with the vibrava and sighed.
“Ahh, you remind me of myself at your age. Those were the days, when all that mattered was the next battle. You’re on your gym challenge I suppose. How many badges have you collected so far?”
Brendan showed the man his badges and shared his plans to challenge the Fortree City gym next.
“Four badges and challenging the Fortree Gym for your fifth, huh? Not bad. Tell you what. Over the next few days while you’re healing up I’ll see if I can’t show you a thing or two. You got some spunk, boy. Heading out in the wild to capture your starter, taking the desert route like you did, that’s the kinda stuff that builds strong trainers. And, well, I got nothing better to do. What do you say?”
Brendan could scarcely agree quick enough. Getting training advice from someone who could earn the respect of such a powerful dragon as Taiowa could only be worth it. Victor was clearly pleased with his quick decision as he grinned in response.
“Wonderful, now let’s get you back to bed for now. You look like you’re bout to pass out sittin’ up.”
Brendan was, in fact, in a lot of pain and he accepted the older man’s help to shuffle back to the cot. Sentry made to follow before Brendan asked him to round up the rest of the team. Once more laying on the cot, Brendan informed his team of what they’d be doing for the next few days. They were as excited as he was about the prospect of training with Victor. Brendan told them a few things he wanted them to work on and then fell into a sleep so deep that a snorlax might be jealous.
The next morning he relied on the help of Dancer to move back outside to the stool, which was now placed so that Brendan could see the dunes right outside camp where his team would be training. Victor was already standing out there speaking to Taiowa who looked up and snorted at Brendan as he sat down. Victor took a drag of his pipe and walked over to Brendan as Taiowa took to the skies.
“Well bout time you got up, boy. Bring out your team so I can get a good idea of what we’re working with.”
The older man clearly intended to get right down to business, which was fine by Brendan. He released his team and had them line up in front of him so Victor could inspect them. They’d grown comfortable with the outwardly grouchy trainer over the few days that Brendan had been convalescing, but something in his gaze today made them straighten to attention. Victor looked them over with a keen eye, then spoke to Brendan.
“Good lookin’ team, if a bit young. But that’s the best time to set a good foundation for a battler. What moves do they know?”
Brendan rattled off the moves that each of his team members knew, along with what each of them was working on currently. Victor nodded approvingly.
“That’s a decent spread, nothing obviously missing. Most of ‘em are too young to work on the more powerful moves. Honestly best thing to do at this stage is just to battle. You can teach moves. You can teach strategy. You can’t teach battle experience though. Pokemon grow fastest from battling. I ain’t no scientist and I can’t tell you why, but it’s undeniable fact. So, from now until you’re all healed up we’re just gonna battle. All. Day.”
Brendan nodded in appreciation, excited and apprehensive all at once.
“Who are we battling? Taiowa?”
As he asked the question, Brendan had to cover his ears as Taiowa shrieked in displeasure. Victor winced, throwing a glare at the circling dragon.
“No. Taiowa is a lot of things, but coddling is one thing he ain’t. Trust me, y’all ain’t ready to fight Taiowa yet.”
Victor pulled a pokeball from his pocket.
“Say hello to your opponent for the next few days, Ukucha.”
Out of the pokeball emerged a grizzled sandslash, lean and muscular with quills discolored with age. It was clearly still a prime specimen, though, standing even in height with lurantis, long claws gleaming in the sun. It made for an intimidating sight. Victor scratched the back of Ukucha’s ears and the sandslash leaned into the touch.
“Ukucha here can take anything you can throw at her and then some. Would you rather come one at a time or all together?”
The sandslash looked interested in Brendan’s response as much as Victor did. His team bristled in indignation at the idea that all of them combined wouldn’t be enough to conquer the sandslash, and a small piece of Brendan agreed. He knew that Taiowa was strong, but was the rest of Victor’s team on that level? He ignored the part of him that advised going in all together and listened to the greater part that was confident in his team.
“We’ll go one at a time. Dancer will go first.”
Victor looked to be carved from stone, neither approving nor disapproving.
“Alright. I won’t be commanding Ukucha, she can do her own thing.”
Brendan nodded as Dancer stepped forward, the meditite bowing to her opponent before taking her stance. Ukucha on the other hand just stared at Dancer, waiting for some unknown signal or more likely giving the first move to them.
The two pokemon stood across from each other motionless, and Brendan was fine with the calm. It gave Dancer more time to examine the sandslash for any tells that would assist her usage of mind-reader. After nearly a minute of waiting Ukucha must have had enough as she spun into motion, curling into a ball and rolling toward Dancer at high speed.
“Fling up some cover with confusion. Then psybeam!”
Brendan knew Dancer couldn’t take a head-on collision with Ukucha, even with the benefit of mind-reader pointing out the best place to strike. So, the best he could come up with was to hopefully blind the sandslash and utilize Dancer’s rudimentary psychic-sense to hit the rolling ground type with something to throw her off.
Dancer executed his instructions perfectly. She threw up a ton of sand, covering their impromptu arena, then jumped away from her position not a second too soon as Ukucha bulldozed her way through the area. The sandslash must have been easy to sense for Dancer as the kaleidoscopic ray of psybeam hit dead center of the ground type.
Unfortunately that was where the plan fell apart. Ukucha seemed barely fazed by the move, and merely started to barrel towards the now-revealed Dancer. The sandslash was too quick, though, and crashed heavily into Dancer. She was thrown unceremoniously into the side of the dune, already unconscious from the massive blow.
Brendan clenched his fists. He’d let his pride in his team blind him. How could any pokemon from a team that included a monster like Taiowa be weak enough for them to take on one-on-one?
He recalled Dancer silently as he regarded Ukucha. The sandslash didn’t even look like she had exerted herself at all, and there was no sign that the psybeam had done more than ruffle a few of her spikes.
Brendan sighed as he picked out Sentry to fight next. He knew now there was no chance of winning against the sandslash, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t give it their best shot.
Sentry floated forward sedately, buzzing something to Ukucha who responded with a high-pitched chirp that seemed wildly out of place on such a pokemon. Sentry’s job would be to tire out the sandslash as much as possible: stall, delay, hinder, and hopefully paralyze. He decided to take the initiative this time.
“FlashSound!”
Sentry immediately let loose with the combination of flash and supersonic, a combo designed to debilitate any opponent with sharp senses. He knew that sandslash might not have great sight, but their hearing was spectacular.
Sure enough, the combination move caused the heretofore unfazed Ukucha to screech in pain. The sandslash had her eyes closed and blood trickled down from her ears. Hopefully she wouldn’t be able to target Sentry effectively in the meantime.
Before he could order Sentry to take advantage, though, the maddened Ukucha screeched again and whipped up a small sandstorm. As soon as the sandstorm had expanded to engulf Sentry, Brendan heard a loud collision, and the magneton was thrown out of the cloud of sand, unconscious.
Brendan was struck dumb, staring at the fainted bodies of Sentry. How had the clearly debilitated sandslash struck such a clean hit on Sentry? He looked up at Victor for an answer. The man smirked and said two words.
“Sand sense.”
Brendan blanched. That answer raised as many questions as it answered. Ukucha could sense anything touching the sand, including sand in the air? That was absurd. How could you ever surprise such an opponent if they were in a sandstorm? Victor must have seen the look on his face as he laughed.
“Ha, I’ll admit she wasn’t supposed to use something that advanced, but she hates any kinda sound moves. Shoulda seen her the time some idiot with an exploud used boomburst on her. Heh, they regretted that.”
Brendan just stared at the man.
“You’re awful at consoling someone.”
Shaking his head, he returned Sentry and sent in Rogue, who’d been so invested in the battles thus far that he’d barely moved. He murmured a few orders to the crustacean as he went forward.
“Most of your ranged water moves won’t do much, she’s too quick. The leftover water won’t even benefit you like it normally does, the sand will just turn to mud. Try to lure her in and protect. If you can spot a surefire opening hit her with ice beam. You’ll only have one shot at that before she’ll be expecting it, though.”
Rogue trilled his understanding, confidently walking forward and clacking his claws. Ukucha had let the sandstorm dissipate, standing there stoically again. True to his personality, Rogue wasted no time in charging forward, claws covered in blades of water.
Ukucha dodged back easily as Rogue impacted the ground where she’d been. Before Rogue could recover, she lazily swung a claw that cut through the water type’s shell like butter, launching him backwards.
Ukucha rolled over to the downed Rogue to finish the battle, but the crustacean had already recovered and surprised her with a quickly charged ice beam. The frigid beam blasted Ukucha backwards, giving a shock to the ground type’s cold blooded system.
The overpowered ice beam was all Rogue had left in him, however, as he fainted before even seeing it hit. He recalled his fallen friend quickly, Ukucha glaring balefully at him with no one to take her fury out on now.
He sent Glimmer out next, the large rock type bounding forward with all the enthusiasm of a growlithe pup. Glimmer had come a long way since the tournament in Slateport. She still needed a firm hand, but she had caught up to the rest of the team in the mastery of her moves.
This was a terrible place to battle for the rock type though. Most of her rock type moves would be difficult in this terrain, as sand was more difficult to gather into rock than normal ground. They’d have to make the most of her other moves.
“Iron defense, Glimmer.”
Glimmer stood in place in deep concentration, gathering what minerals she could from the ground and reinforcing her armor at the expense of making it heavier. Ukucha didn’t let them buff up for free, though, starting another rollout as Glimmer concentrated.
The sandslash was fast as ever, even after the ice beam, and would hit Glimmer before she finished the buffing move. Thankfully iron defense was one of the few buffing moves that activated slowly over time, not all at once at the end. If cancelled now Glimmer would retain most of the effects.
“Glimmer, stop! Heavy slam!”
Glimmer stopped concentrating on iron defense and immediately reared back on her back leg to crash down on Ukucha as she rolled in. The rock type slammed the ground right as Ukucha got in range, throwing up a cloud of sand.
As it cleared Brendan could see no sign of the sandslash, though, until Glimmer moved. The rock type moved back, exposing a hole in the ground right where Ukucha had disappeared. Brendan’s eyes widened as he put the clues together just a moment too late.
The sandslash barreled out of a newly burrowed hole right underneath Glimmer, and crashed into her with a sickening crack. The rock type was knocked unconscious by the blow, hairline fractures running throughout her carapace.
Brendan grit his teeth at the sight. He knew she had no nerve endings in her armor, but it still stung to see her injured. He recalled Glimmer and then glanced to his side at Lurantis.
“Just you left, buddy. Let’s give her something to remember us by.”
Lurantis’ red eyes never left Ukucha as he chirped his agreement, stepping forward for the last battle. Brendan thought through Lurantis’ moves. Their favored tactic of camouflaging Lurantis in a petal blizzard wouldn’t help here with Ukucha’s sand sense. There was enough solar energy available to nearly instantly charge solar beam, but hitting the sandslash with it would be difficult and Lurantis could only fire a few solar beams before exhaustion. They’d have to keep on Ukucha in close range, not allowing her the time to rollout.
“Keep it in close! Approach with a petal blizzard.”
Lurantis started moving nearly before Brendan had even spoken. He dashed forwards, flanked on both sides by a stream of flower petals. The streams of petals reached Ukucha before Lurantis did, whirling around the sandslash, scratching and harassing her.
She curled up and spun in place, utilizing gyro ball to blow away the petals. Right after she did, though, Lurantis reached her and engaged in a furious melee, claw vs scythe. Ukucha was careful only to parry or sidestep Lurantis’ scythes that were gleaming with leaf blade. Apparently the ground type was finally leery of something.
The melee continued on for some time. As frighteningly strong as Ukucha was, melee combat was clearly not the sandslash’s specialty, with a few blows slipping through her defense. Lurantis was not unscathed, though, with Ukucha utilizing her quills to inflict a few wounds. Each strike that landed on the ground type caused her to let out a groan of pain, and then a shriek of fury as her pride took a blow.
Eventually she seemed to calm down and utilized the power of one of Lurantis’ strikes to leap backward and disappear into the ground. Not long after she disappeared, the sand around Lurantis started to sink, as if the grass type was caught in a sinkhole. It didn’t take long for Brendan to figure out what happened.
“She’s caught you in a sand tomb, Lurantis!”
Even with that knowledge there was little Lurantis could do, the sand was sinking too rapidly for him to escape. Brendan thought frantically, finally landing on only one possible solution.
“Solar Beam, aim right below you!”
It was a gamble, but one that Brendan had a hunch would pay off. Lurantis charged up the solar beam in record time with the desert sun looking down on them. The beam went straight down, right into the unsuspecting face of Ukucha who had just opened her tunnel to strike at Lurantis.
The impact caused a giant explosion of sand, obscuring the two pokemon. It cleared, showing the unconscious Lurantis. Even his heavy resistance to the move couldn’t save him from the point-blank explosion. On the other side Ukucha seemed heavily injured, though not to the point of being unable to fight.
Brendan smiled ruefully. They’d given their best effort and still Ukucha stood, though he thought they’d surprised her a bit. Victor let out a hearty laugh, and then laughed even harder as the injured Ukucha glared at him.
“Now, now, I know your pride’s hurting, but the boy and his team gave you a bit of a surprise didn’t they?”
The sandslash merely ignored him and ambled into the shade to lick her wounds. Victor just smiled after her then turned his attention to Brendan.
“Don’t worry ‘bout her. She’s just mad cause she took y’all too lightly and paid her price. Oughta do her some good I reckon. That was a fine battle, make no mistake. A little more refining and y’all oughta be able to take Ukucha down before your team is spent.”
Brendan smiled lightly at the praise even though he was already analyzing the mistakes he made in the battle. He did have questions for the man, though.
“Do you mind if I ask some questions, Victor?”
The older trainer looked at him curiously and nodded.
“Let’s get your pokemon in the mobile healer right quick, but sure. Go ahead, shoot.”
Brendan handed his pokeballs to Victor who slotted them in the indents of the machine. It wouldn’t do anything for large injuries, but would heal anything shy of that fairly quickly.
“Well, you said you’d participated in the Ever Grande League. How far did you get? Your team seems way beyond any other trainer I’ve met. Not even my father’s or grandpa Pryce’s teams were as strong as Ukucha and Taiowa.”
Victor hummed in response, lighting up his long pipe again and taking a long drag. He pulled out another stool and sat across from Brendan before he spoke again.
“That’s a bit of a story, kid.”
Brendan gestured to his injuries with a wry smile then mimicked the older man’s tone from the day before.
“I’ve got time.”
The quip got a surprised laugh and cough out of the older trainer. After he caught his breath the man continued.
“S’pose you do. Well, if you hadn’t guessed, I grew up here in the Old Hoenn Desert. Left it to go see the outside world after I came of age here; I was 14. It was just me and Taiowa; the ornery lizard was just a wee trapinch then with a bottomless stomach.”
He stopped for a moment to take another long drag.
“Anyway, that ain’t the point. Point is I made quite a few friends out there, and I wasn’t yearning to go back home to the desert really. I’d made a real nice showing at the conference my first year, and by the time I won it when I was 20 I’d become skilled enough that there were calls to name me a ground type master. Now I didn’t proper get that title ‘til I won my first battle against another master trainer, but that’s for another time.”
Brendan paid rapt attention to the story; he’d thought that Victor’s team was strong but he had no idea the man was a master.
“After I won that conference I got to meet the champion, Old Abe. He invited me to take up the empty position in his Elites. So for a time I was the ground master of the Elite Four.”
He spat on the ground in sudden vitriol.
“I hated it. Oh, the people were great. The champion and my colleague Elites were like a family. But the League itself? Rotten. Rules and regulations and bureaucracy all stacked on top of each other ‘til you can’t tell which is which and which is important. After the champion retired, so did I. Taiowa and a couple others are the only ones left of my Elite team. The others like to wander the Heart a bit more. I picked up Ukucha after I retired back here, so she’s not quite on the same level as my Elite team.”
Shaking himself from his reverie his eyes gleamed as he smirked at the awestruck Brendan.
“Well, that answer your question?”
Brendan could only nod dumbly. He caught himself, though, and shook his head. As if that was the end of his questions!
He pestered the man with his endless questions for the rest of the time his team healed. Victor was wont to answer most of his questions until he got annoyed with Brendan and flew off on Taiowa, ostensibly to “check their water supplies.”
Brendan was on cloud nine after getting to pick the brain of a master trainer. He released his team from the healing machine and congratulated them for the battle. He knew most of them didn’t feel good about it; he’d been the same. They all perked up after hearing that Victor and Ukucha were master level opponents.
He and his team went over their battles to find areas they could improve on. After that, they just relaxed until Victor returned late into the afternoon.
Upon his return, it was time for round two with Ukucha. This time they fought all at once, again to no avail. Now that Ukucha had reason to take them a little more seriously their chances at winning dwindled to nothing.
They battled long into the evening, stopping only when the sun went down. Victor gave a piece of advice here and there, but as he had mentioned at the beginning, battle was the best way to grow stronger as a pokemon.
The next few days were much the same, with Ukucha slowly increasing the intensity as they got used to fighting her. The mobile healing device was the only thing that allowed them to sustain their battling all day safely, and it got quite the workout. Taiowa was always circling overhead, looking down on their battles with an arrogant gaze. Sometimes he was accompanied by some of his most recent brood of vibrava, one in particular that liked to watch their battles from up close.
In the evenings they relaxed, a welcome convalescence after their battles with Ukucha. They made barbecue from whatever Taiowa had hunted that day, mostly hippowdon. Brendan would attempt to get Victor to tell more stories of his active training days, or would tell the man about his journey so far when that didn’t work.
On the fourth day their battles went much the same as before, albeit with an extra combatant. One of Taiowa’s brood of vibrava, the same one that watched their battles before, decided to participate on the side of Brendan’s team, raining its recently-honed dragonfire on the sandslash from the sky.
Brendan and Victor smiled at the rambunctious dragonling, but Taiowa was not pleased. The flygon swooped down from above, uncaring of their interrupted battle, taking the vibrava back up above. To the great dragon’s dismay, however, the vibrava would not be deterred. It would feign a cursory obedience for a bit, then promptly rush back down to join the battle again. It must have happened half a dozen times that day, angering Taiowa quite a bit.
The same thing happened the next day, until apparently Taiowa gave up on disciplining the young vibrava and let it have its way. Brendan had no problem with the dragonling battling with them, and even planned a few strategies to take advantage of its help.
That evening the vibrava stayed among them at camp while Taiowa took the rest of the brood out flying. It was very interested in Brendan and his team, flitting this way and that as different things caught its attention. His team were mostly unbothered, with the exceptions of Sentry and Dancer who were a bit annoyed by the hyperactive pokemon.
The large part of another week passed like this, with Brendan slowly healing and his team learning at the brutal claws of Ukucha. It was simultaneously some of the best times and the worst times of Brendan’s short training career. His unexpected trip to the Heart may have nearly killed him, but Brendan was unsure if he would change it now; learning from a Master was too good to pass up.