Valor ambled as rain pelted him, hands buried in his armpits. No matter how hard he tried to cover himself, the wind chill cut into his bones. He shivered as water soaked through his clothes. He desperately searched for a place to rest as the frigid cold slowed his thoughts and marred his body.
His mother had warned him about the dangers of a journey. While it was something most people did, many never returned and many of those that did return did so in a coffin. He brushed her off, thinking he knew better. Pokemon were dangerous, but everyone knew that. It would be fine once he got one of his own. He watched as all of his friends went on their journeys, one by one leaving him behind. The first left at ten. Valor had just turned fifteen. Five years since everyone started leaving him behind, all he could do was watch while his mom refused to give him a partner. It was ironic, Valor was shielded from danger.
He hatched his plan a year ago when he was doing his chores and found some of his father’s old pokeballs in the attic. Valor started going out for “runs,” around town, complaining about going stir-crazy from studying. It was partially true, staying at home all day was driving him mad. During these periods he was doing one of two things: practicing his throwing and doing odd jobs for the vacationers around town to make money.
Then he waited for a period where he knew his mom wouldn’t be hovering over him when she traveled for her yearly business trips to Castelia City. She left this morning and by the afternoon he had taken 10 of the pokeballs in the attic, his bookbag, some nutrient bars, and a bit of water before heading out.
He started heading east, hoping to hit Undella town really soon. It would all start there.
That was the plan until a massive storm passed overhead. It was sudden and brutal, soaking Valor despite his feeble attempts to hide under his bookbag. The trees around him were dead from the recent winter offering no leaves for protection. He kept running, desperate for any shelter.
Then Valor slipped, mud sliding and pulling him with it, as he tumbled down the mountainside. He screamed as debris ripped into his skin and a crack followed by a nauseating pain that radiated from his arm.
Moments later Valor finally slid to a stop. He coughed and heaved, spitting up mud and leaves that fell into his mouth. The dizzying pain from his arm was still there and shot through him when he tried to move it.
He didn’t have time to dwell on it and forced himself to his feet, ignoring the aches in his body. His left leg thrummed with a dull throb as he struggled to his feet. Gathering himself, Valor looked around and noticed a build in the distance. Valor hobbled his way towards it, hoping to find someone who could help him. As he drew near, he realized the size of the building, it was large, less of a house and more of a mansion. It was rundown, several of the windows being shattered or boarded up. He walked around the mansion, looking for an entrance, and found a set of large wooden double doors.
He dragged himself to the doors and leaned against one, grabbing the handle of the other with his good arm. Surprisingly, the door opened without issue.
Valor made his way inside, the sound of rain becoming distant as he shut the door. He suppressed his shivers as he looked around the building. The building was old, and the smell of rain and dust permeated the air. The room had old furniture, with large area rugs and potted plants dotting the room. Valor spotted a standing lamp. He tried to turn it on but had no luck. Exhausted and in pain, he dragged himself to the sofa and lowered himself onto it. A layer of dust dislodged and filled the air, as Valor passed out.
He woke up to a scream. Disoriented, Valor looked around groggy, pain spidering its way back into his mind.
He shot up, forcing through the pain. The room was exactly how it was when he fell asleep. The scream happened again, and Valor recognized the voice was a girl. The shout had a tone of authority to it. Valor hobbled towards it and found himself at a thick wooden door. He leaned into it and it slowly swung open, the weight of the door giving meager resistance.
A girl was scrambling into the corner of the room as a pokemon shot a beam of pressurized water. The water smashed into the wall a couple of meters from Valor. His head whipped over at the target. A massive candle lit by a dim purple flame flickered into existence, right where water was mere moments ago. Looking at it, Valor’s head started pounding, his eyes began sliding off of the candle and the edges of his vision began to fray. Dancing lights entered the black frays. The candle vanished as another wave of water speared where it was moments ago. Valor snapped back to reality the effects in his vision gone and replaced by a hollow pit in his gut. Valor shook his head, glancing back at the other person. She had thick, limp hair, dripping with water. She was holding a Pokeball in her hand, likely the origin of the pokemon fighting. I gave the pokemon a second glance and realized it was an Oshowatt. The furry creature had a dark glower etched into its face, its rage eminent. The candle flicked back into existence, and Valor scoured his brain to recognize it. His childhood plushie flashed in his face, a cute smile stitched onto a candle— Litwick. Tendrils of pain wormed their way through Valor’s skull then the oshowatt hissed, and flung itself into the air. It slashed missing the candle.
A scream resonated with the air, and Valor realized the slash hit. Valor stared as the air around the scalchop warped and glimmered. It was coaked in waxy flesh before the air dissipated, dropping the glob to the ground.
The litwick shot a flame that the oshowatt dove out of the way of. It landed in a roll and shot another shot of pressurized water. The litwick disappeared again, and the oshowatt growled in annoyance.
“Hey, you!” The girl shouted.
Valor’s attention snapped to her as she asked, “Do you have a pokemon?” He shook his head and she grimaced. He reached into his bag grabbing one of the pokeballs he stole, hoping to distract it if it came at him.
Valor zeroed in on the spot where the ghost kept flickering in and out, but it was quiet.
That was until the ghost appeared just next to the girl. The issue with most ghosts wasn’t their ethereal nature or the odd effects that happened when they appeared, it was how clever they were in tandem with that.
The girl cursed as a burst of fire exploded toward her. She flinched, her arms crossing in front of her face. Flames licked across them as a horse scream ripped its way from her throat. The flames dissipated as the oshowatt and Valor stared panicked. The girl’s arms were red and covered with thick blisters.
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The oshowatt shrieked with anger, charging at the litwick. The litwick spun in the air, and immediately spat a thick purple smog at the oshawott who yelped in surprise. It sputtered and coughed as its legs strained under its own weight. The litwick shouted, as its voice echoed a primal fear crept up Valor’s spine for just a moment. The oshawott froze, the fear trapping it much longer. Another burst of smog engulfed the oshawott. The trainer tossed a rock, at the litwick, and its body shimmered, the rock phasing right through it. The oshawott stumbled and fell, groaning in pain. It tried to force itself up but its body spasmed as it coughed and gagged.
The litwick turned back towards the girl, who glowered at it. Valor tossed his ball before it could do anything. The ball slammed into the creature's back, sucking it inside before falling to the floor. Valor remembered a catching technique that he learned online and immediately grabbed another ball. He saw cracks of light crawl across the Pokeball and readied his current one. The moment the litwick popped out before it could get its bearings, he threw another, buying another few seconds. Everyone watched carefully as the ball wiggled before its signature ding.
Valor collapsed, into a puddle of relief as the pokemon was caught. That battle was turning deadly, the smell of burning flesh and hair was already worming into his nose. He struggled to avoid hurling on the spot.
“Thanks,” the girl said, a grimace on her face. She grabbed a potion from her bag and immediately started spraying her oshawott who managed to struggle back to his feet. Valor regretted looking over as he saw some of the girl's flesh sloughing off, and what skin remained was bubbled or took on a leathery texture.
She finished treating her pokemon in a hurry before applying the potion to her arms with a pained hiss.
She finished by grabbing bandages from her bag and slowly wrapping her arms with them.
“Holy shit, are you okay?” Valor asked, immediately regretting the question. Of course, she wasn’t okay.
“Fine, she answered,” her voice calm and not betraying any of the pain she had to be in. She took a deep, slow inhale, and released it all before looking at Valor.
“You’re not a trainer, are you?” she asked. It almost sounded like a statement with how matter-of-fact she was about it.
“Well… now I am?” Valor said, voice wavering.
The girl stared back in utter disbelief before putting her face in her hands and groaning. After a few moments, she asked, “Name?”
“Valor,” he replied, trying to ignore the pain that was no longer being drowned out by adrenaline.
“Mist. Now Valor, what happened to your arm? You’re cradling it like it's gonna fall off.”
Valor’s brain scrambled, caught off guard by the question. “Had a nasty fall on the way here, pretty sure it’s broken.” She waved him over, and Valor hesitated but eventually made his way over.
She dug into her bag and brought out another potion and what looked like a splint kit.
“Do you just keep these things on you?”
“Of course, plenty of trainers don’t know proper first aid and it’s often the death of them or the start of a crippling journey; at least that’s what my dad says.” She said, before grabbing Valor by his shirt collar and pulling him in. He choked down a grunt of pain from her manhandling as she secured the splint.
Once she was done, there was a small amount of relief from the broken bone no longer bearing the weight of most of his arm.
“Thanks,” he said, and she just responded with a noncommittal grunt.
“Are you planning on selling that litwick? It will probably fetch you enough to buy a solid starter and plenty of stuff for your journey.”
Valor looked over at her suspiciously. He had mentioned he wasn’t really a trainer, but she had laid all of that out a little too plainly.
“What if I wanted to keep it?” He asked probing the girl. She scoffed and then laughed.
“If you have a death wish sure, Trainers that start with a ghost type and no specialized training usually aren’t long for the world, If you want to be dead husk #1032 be my guest,” she said, mirth dripping from her voice.
Valor narrowed his eyes, “Dead trainers, real funny,” he spat. That wasn’t where his venom came from, he felt a fire light at someone else telling him what his limits were. Indignance crystalized in his mind at her words.
“I’m laughing at you and the sheer lack of knowledge, and audacity you showed,” She glanced at him and slowly stared into his eyes until the smile evaporated from her lips.
“You don’t actually plan on training that… right? You’re going to get yourself killed,” she said, previous humor gone in a Flame Burst. Valor just stared at her, trying not to clench his jaw at being chided like a child. Her grey eyes stared into his, searching for… something.
She sighed as the tension in her body released. “You’re new at this aren’t you?” You said you weren’t a trainer yet but you haven’t even attended a pokeschool have you?”
“No, but I’ve done plenty of personal research, I spend a lot of time on pokemon forums and the like, I know Ghost-Types are dangerous.”
She sighed again, this one long and exhausted. “There are things that are hard to explain until you see it, like a Ghost-Type raised by an unready trainer. You need to get rid of that thing. Do you even have a trainer card yet? You’re going to hear the same thing, from Nurse Joy the moment you try to register with it.”
Valor just continued to stare at her, jaw locking and eyes narrowing into a glare. Another spike of defiance cut through him. “I’m keeping it. Err- her? Him?” he questioned, remembering litwicks indeed had sexes.
“At least you know that,” Mist said, before glancing down, releasing a final sigh, and then looking back up at Valor, a flicker of conviction blooming in her eyes. “Fine, but I’m going to tag along until you have that thing under control.”
Valor felt the inner heat begin to boil over, “I will not be babied like some idiot by another beginner trai-” Mist cut him off.
“I’m not really negotiating this, it that, or I report you to the League and make your life really difficult.”
Valor blanked; he hadn’t done anything wrong so the league wouldn’t do anything. His confusion must have shown as Mist spoke up.
“Some pokemon can require a competency test to be valid for training or the league will restrict a trainer’s permission to use it. If I don’t report this, Nurse Joy certainly will and you’re fucked either way. Now, there are other ways around this but judging by the dumb look on your face I doubt you know or meet any of them.”
She stared at him while Valor absorbed the information while trying to keep his temper in check. He hadn’t heard any of this, but it made sense in a way. He knew several species of pokemon were restricted from entering special locations and had to be kept in their balls at all times at risk of fines or jail. A broad pseudo-ban was possible. It was also possible Mist was lying to him just to monitor the dumb kid she was looking at—Valor shot that thought down realizing it wasn’t very productive.
He took a moment to gather himself, and think things through. She didn’t seem to be trying to be condescending to him, she was but- again, useless thought. She looked like was well-intentioned.
Valor took a deep breath and sighed, “Okay, whatever. You can tag along. Don’t get in the way of my training and pay for your own shit though.”
Mist stared at him again, mirth swimming in her eyes, “Sure ace, whatever you say.”