Blurred images envelop me. The world is muddled, unsteady, not as I know it. Still, my gaze wanders over the colourful mosaic of my surroundings.
I would love to raise a hand and feel the picture before me, but I don’t have the strength. Nothing about me wants to move. There is only this pressure on one hand, which nestles warmly against me, so I tilt my head slightly to the side – towards him.
He holds my fingers tightly, as if he wants to ensure I don’t run away. His eyes are somewhere in the distance. He is with me and yet, somehow, somewhere else.
But for now, that’s okay. In these breaths, I know how to smile. Because he is there.
The world passes us by in a green expanse and although I am happy to get to know another city on our way back to Castelia City, my thoughts still cling to the illusions of the day before. To my mother, to the stranger, and also to Amethio, who ended up haunting my dreams. Sometimes his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. Then he was back to his old self. Reproving and unenthusiastic about my actions, but yet strangely caring when he looked at me as if I would disappear at any moment. In my dream, this kind of attention from him felt pleasantly warm. But he isn’t here.
Instead, Spinel sits behind the wheel, no longer spooked by what he saw yesterday, intent on getting us both to Nacrene City. The dark roofs of the city can already be seen from afar and, according to the information Rotom has given us, most of the people there live in old warehouses. It’s an old town full of memories, which they keep in a local museum.
The only reason we’re making a stopover in Nacrene is because of me. Spinel has offered to explore the town on our way back, as it is said to be especially popular with younger people. It offers the latest trends in sweets, huge cafés in warehouses, massive supermarkets and colourful street stalls. I imagine the latter to be a bit like the hustle and bustle of Konikoni.
As we leave the long avenue of trees behind us and the car finally rolls onto the streets of the city, the first impression of Nacrene is calm. People stroll around. Conversations are taking place in front of open shop doors. Girls and boys my age saunter past clothes shops and older gentlemen have gathered on a nearby corner – dressed appropriately for lunchtime on a golf course. It’s not cramped, not crowded, and yet the enjoyment of life bubbles to the surface.
Spinel parks the car near the Pokémon Center, next to which towers a broad hotel with an entrance reminiscent of a garage door. The dark brown stone conveys old charm and the wide sign on the side in curved lettering promises homely peace.
“Where do we go first?” As soon as we get out of the car, I glance at Spinel.
“You could give your Pokémon a chance to socialise with others,” he suggests. “There’s a day care for children and Pokémon not far from here.”
“Both together?”
He nods. “So they can get to know as many types as possible.”
The idea is appealing and I don’t want to reject his suggestion without at least having a quick look. I certainly won’t be dropping my Pokémon off there, but the concept seems interesting. So Spinel takes the lead. His long legs match my stride and yet he stays a few centimetres ahead to guide us both down the right streets. This, too, differs from Amethio’s behaviour, who either runs ahead or to whom I have to adapt in every situation. No matter how I put it, he could probably learn a thing or two from Spinel.
When we stop in front of a warehouse, its flowery decorated walls standing out playfully among the other buildings, my gaze immediately wanders to the fenced-in annex. Children up to the age of ten are playing in a well-tended garden with Pokémon that don’t belong to them but are ready to make friends with strangers. Bright laughter accompanies the distorted sounds of various Pokémon and even an old woman – presumably the supervisor – lets out a giggle from behind a raised hand.
“I’m sure your Pokémon would feel right at home here.” Contrary to my expectations, Spinel’s gaze is fixed on me. He doesn’t care about the cheerful painting of a day care that I’ve never seen myself. For him, such things must be part of everyday life.
“Probably.” Gently, I place a hand on my skirt pocket. “However, I prefer to keep them with me. Eevee is very particular. Ying and I never part ways. It’s probably too much for Mirra, and while Growlithe would certainly have fun, I can see Trumbeak folding his wings over his head in despair. If I could stick around, it would be worth considering, but they’re better off in their balls this way.”
The humming escaping his throat seems almost disappointed and just as he opens his mouth – surely he wants to put his displeasure into words – the brisk voice of a woman interrupts him.
“Domino!”
I turn around immediately. Facing me is Conia, her arms crossed in front of her chest as if she doesn’t want to give Spinel any room for stupid comments.
Next to me, she stops. “You’re on your way back?”
“We are,” I reply curtly. The loose-fitting, light blue blouse on her body goes well with the light-coloured jeans and immerses her in an image that makes me forget how much more serious she looks in her uniform. “What are you doing here?”
“I picked up Golduck from the day care. She likes to spend her time there, meeting friends or playing with the children.”
“I didn’t realise you cared about things like that.” Spinel’s shallow smile doesn’t match his words, or the amused tone they convey. Whatever has happened between him and Amethio’s troupe, there seems to be no improvement in sight.
“That could be said about you, too.”
Conia doesn’t have to say it to make her side-swipe clear. Spinel taking the time to show me a bit of this region is certainly not one of his hobbies. Part of me is sure we could become good friends if we spend enough time like this. The rest of me can’t shake the idea that he enjoys rubbing this connection in Amethio’s face. It’s a kind of power play I’m struggling with.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Instead of responding to Conia, he gives a barely perceptible shrug. “My plans merely allow for some free time, which I’m happy to invest in the growth of others. Unlike Amethio, as we all know.”
“You shouldn’t talk about things you know nothing about.”
“That’s what they all say when they’re not content with-” He breaks off as someone crashes into his shoulder. His body staggers to the side and just as I grab Spinel by the arm to support him, Plasma’s uniform catches my eye.
The stranger hurries off in a sprint before the screams of two teenagers reach us, pleading to hold the thief. But he is already too far away for me to catch him and before I know what to do, Conia takes off in pursuit. My whole body flinches under her action and when I feel Spinel’s hand on mine, my gaze flits up to him.
“Go help her.”
A nod overcomes me, then I run.
My breath rushes hotly over my lips as I try to catch up with Conia. The light heels of the grey boots thunder in my ears and although I can’t close the gap, it’s enough to keep up. Still, sweat forms on my skin, heat ripples through my whole body and when we reach a forest path leading us through undergrowth and bushes, I hear my panting. Somewhere in between, we pass a sign that reads “Wellspring Cave” and before I know it, my footsteps echo off stone walls.
Gasping, I slow my pace, watch Conia fade further into the distance, and finally prop myself up on my knees. My throat burns. Every breath feels a bit like choking. Although I’ve become more athletic lately – Alola has done its part – I’m still not up to par with the others. Still, I pull myself together and drag on. Being here is better than waiting with Spinel. Who knows what danger Conia would otherwise put herself in alone? She may be strong, but she’s not invincible.
I feel my way along the cave wall with one hand. The light in here is dim. The overhead lighting flickers, is partially broken and so old it’s almost surprising it still works. It illuminates my way to a junction where Conia has stopped, too. Pressed against the wall, she looks around the corner, her eyes fixed on the distance.
When I stop next to her, she immediately grabs my arm. “There are four of them.”
“Okay...” I groan quietly. I still haven’t managed to calm my frantic breathing. “That’s why you ... waited?”
Her gaze wanders briefly in my direction before she nods. “I’ve realised you’re following. In a situation like this, we’re better off in pairs.”
Slowly, I, too, peer around the corner to scrutinise the small group, discussing the situation lively. Their uniforms are unmistakable and the two Poké Balls one of them is triumphantly holding up, must be the stolen goods.
“How do we proceed?” Brows drawn together, I address Conia.
“We’re attacking.” Determination shows on her features as she pulls out a Poké Ball. In her mind, there’s no better alternative and I can’t argue with her. “We should work together. It’s easier if we challenge all four of them at once than separating them first and then realising they might be superior to you.”
My shoulders slump. Despite the training, they still don’t trust me with a fight I might lose – or one that will cost me more than I can pay. Using the Z-Move in a cave is out of the question, and after that strange voice caught up with me yesterday, I don’t want to question their decision. It’s better not to take any risks.
We both nod to each other again. Then we jump around the corner and bridge the few metres to the four Plasma members, who notice us in the same blink.
“Really? You’ve followed us this far?” A woman among them steps forward – presumably the leader of this theft. “If you think we’re going to put these Pokémon back into the hands of irresponsible children, you’re wrong!” She immediately grabs a ball at her waist, causing the other three to follow suit. “Better get out of here before you lose your Pokémon today, too.”
“Definitely not.” Any intimidation rolls off Conia and as she sends her Golduck into battle, I follow suit with Ying.
The budding unrest between the fronts passes over our heads. A throaty hiss from a Zangoose elicits a deep growl from Ying and as the opposing Watchog tilts its head, Conia begins her attack.
“Water pulse!”
Without further ado, Golduck puffs out her chest before drawing uneven circles in the air and throwing them at our opponents with a screech-like sound wave. It’s a straightforward attack that shoos any Plasma Pokémon aside, causing Ying to move automatically.
As soon as she reaches her first foe within a few jumps, I give her the order to use scratch. In the next instant, she rams her claws so hard against a Sandile that it howls loudly before taking off and crashing sideways through the water pulse against the dodging Zangoose.
Meanwhile, the second Sandile in the group lets out a whimper as the water pulse crashes into a rock right next to it and the falling stone stirs up dust, causing the members of Plasma to curse quietly. It is the right moment to let Trumbeak out of his ball.
“Fly! And if you see an opportunity, steal the two Poké Balls they don’t carry on their bodies.”
Coro spares a sound of approval. He assesses the situation, evaluates it and nods before he flies under the rocky ceiling with powerful wing beats and waits. At this point, my attention turns back to the fight, whose brief stop ends when Zangoose and Watchog break through the cloud of dust.
While one of them bares its teeth and lunges at Golduck’s thigh, the other spreads its oversized claws and points them at Ying. Both Conia and I shout warnings, our Pokémon back away, attacks miss, and yet Ying loses a tuft of fur as Zangoose’s claws fly past her by a hair’s breadth. In the same breath, my Zoroark strikes back with her claws, moving closer to Golduck, who has the same plan; and as they stand back to back, it dawns on me how much better they can be as a team.
Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.
So I take the lead. “Ying, fling Golduck into the air!”
“Domino?” Conia’s astonishment rolls over me, but only elicits a brief smile.
All the training over the past few weeks hasn’t been in vain. Bellro’s words back then about my talent, the mockery that escaped me – I want to push all that away and show that fighting is an art that can be learnt.
Meanwhile, Ying offers her paws to Golduck and as she steps up to be lifted into the air, Watchog intervenes. Its protruding front teeth gleam with energy and just as I’m about to get Zoroark to dodge, she firms her stance. Then Golduck flies upwards, Watchog’s hyper fang sinks into Ying’s thigh and blood drips to the ground. But instead of howling, Zoroark grits her teeth. Simultaneously, Zangoose threatens to sink its claws into her body. It lunges out, close enough to hit Ying, and I wish I could throw myself between them, but in these seconds, I can only show the same strength as Ying. I have to let her act instead of interfering.
“Night daze! Sweep them away!”
An amused snort escapes Ying’s muzzle before lightning-fast darkness envelops her body. Zangoose’s claws are close enough to touch, ready to split her hair. In the next blink, the blackness detaches from Ying’s body with such force it tears Zangoose’s arms backwards before it is grabbed by the darkness and thrown back. Conia’s Golduck follows with a well-timed water pulse from above.
Only Watchog holds firm. Its teeth in Zoroark’s thigh prevent it from flying away. But its position and the lack of a trainer’s command render it motionless, so Ying smashes the back of her paw against its head. With a gasp, the Pokémon’s teeth dislodge from her flesh before it staggers two steps to the side. At this moment, I’m not allowed to show pity. “Pursuit!”
Zoroark follows her opponent with heavy steps before she swings her paw once more and smashes it backwards against Watchog’s torso. The force knocks it off its feet. Its impact against the rock wall is so violent it can’t get back to its feet between the crumbled rock and dust. That leaves only Zangoose, standing shakily in front of Team Plasma. Its fur drips from wetness as it takes heavy breaths. The Sandile behind it looks frozen in place.
“You don’t think you’ve already won, do you?” Provocatively, the stranger raises the stolen balls. “If it comes down to it, we’ll send these Pokémon into battle against you, too.”
“I don’t think so!” Without further ado, I point upwards. “Unless you’re faster than Coro!”
Her eyes widen, plagued by incomprehension, as the balls disappear from her hands in the same breath. Trumbeak’s swift wings carry him back to me and when I hold my arm out to him, it’s fifteen kilos settling heavily on me.
For a moment I think my arrogant behaviour might look good, but it will probably tear my limb off. Still, I try to swallow the strain on my muscles. Coro, for his part, drops the two balls into my hand and I don’t need to reassure myself that they are the stolen Pokémon. The stickers on them already give it away.
“Don’t think you’re going to get away that easily!” The leader of the troupe hisses, and although her face is contorted with rage and promises revenge, I only feel relief inside. “You may lead the two Pokémon back to their captivity, but one day we will rescue them and there’s nothing you can do about it! When our king takes his place, a new, good age will dawn!”
Conia’s dismissive snort is the only response Team Plasma receives before they turn and leave. Shortly afterwards, Golduck slips back into her ball and Trumbeak also settles into his round home. Only Ying remains at our side – quickly supplied by some powder Conia has been carrying in her trouser pocket.
“What a twisted bunch,” she groans. “They believe in what they say, as if they don’t even realise their surroundings...” Her eyes fall on her Poké Ball. “That plan would make a lot more people and Pokémon unhappy than it would help them.”
“Probably,” I reply as I run a hand through Ying’s soft mane. I can’t imagine what my life would be like without them – or what this world would be like if Pokémon weren’t a part of our lives. I don’t even want to think about it.
Still, the thought doesn’t seem to let go of us as we make our way back and stroll into the city at a leisurely pace. The silence between us weighs heavily. It doesn’t even let up when we see Spinel and the two young people together in a café a few metres from the day care. He seems to have reassured them with confident words – panic is no longer written on their faces – and when they spot us, expectations bubble up in their eyes.
“Were you able to save them? Are they all right?” The girl rushes over to us and as I press both balls into her hand, she whirls around to her companion. “They’ve got them!”
“Thank you so much!” More reserved than his counterpart, the boy bows to us. He elicits a smile from us, while Conia waves it off. But the relief from before seems to have disappeared.
Instead, unease grows between us as the teenagers make their way home after their sixth thank-you and the three of us are left behind. The thought of how well Spinel must have had them under control banishes Team Plasma from my mind. If I had to imagine Amethio in his place, it probably wouldn’t have gone half as smoothly. Surely he would have intimidated these two strangers with his stubborn manner rather than giving them courage.
Conia lets out a snort somewhere in between and when she puts her hands on her hips and turns to me, I raise my eyebrows.
“I have to get back to Castelia now,” she begins. “You should return to the headquarters, too. We could go together. I-”
“We’ll make our way back tomorrow,” Spinel interrupts her, crossing his legs gallantly at the table. Propping his head in one hand, he looks at Conia as if she had already lost this unspoken battle long before her first attempt.
The two stare each other down wordlessly for an instant and I don’t know if I should say something or if silence is wiser. Ying at my side merely looks back and forth between them and as I bury a hand in her fur, I’m sure we can sit this out silently.
Indeed, the tension eases as Conia lets out a faint hum before her eyes dart in my direction once more. “See you around.”
It’s a short, impersonal farewell. Almost as if I were to blame for this unpleasant constellation. She’s not wrong, but the problem between her, Zir, Amethio and Spinel isn’t mine. There’s no room for me in this argument, even if it seems as if they’re trying to force me to decide, or even take sides.
Shaking my head, I finally settle down opposite Spinel. “Why are they so averse to you?”
While Ying sits down on the ground next to me and enjoys the sun, Spinel scrutinises me before the smile fades from his lips. Brows drawn together, he seems to look at my question seriously.
“In the Explorers, it’s important to deliver results, whether as a team or alone,” he begins. “We’re given a goal and each of us gets to work towards it. At the moment, that means the black Rayquaza and the newly emerged Terapagos.” He tilts his head. “It also means we’re stealing each other’s lead and snatching information from under each other’s noses to put ourselves in a better light for Master Gibeon. It’s a kind of ‘friendly competition’ between us and, unfortunately, Amethio is far too often on the losing side.”
“And I suppose he has you to thank for that most of the time?” My mouth twists. His explanation makes sense and I can understand why there are arguments. Though it also seems nonsensical, considering how much more they could achieve if they worked together.
Spinel, meanwhile, nods. “The fact we both usually follow the same tracks ends up with only one of us getting the result. He may be a year younger than me, but I take him seriously. I don’t like losing.” A restrained laugh creeps onto his lips. “I’m sure you understand that.”
“A little.” Nobody likes to lose, and I don’t think I would do much differently in Spinel’s shoes. Then again, it sounds harsh that he’s snatching every victory from Amethio’s grasp, and part of me would like to plead for a little more kindness. However, I’m in no position to make such requests. On top, I’m sure that one day Amethio will find a way to beat Spinel at his own game.
“By the way, you should try the ice cream here,” he finally distracts from the topic. “You can get the best flavours of the region here.”
An invitation I don’t need to hear twice to raise my hand and place an order. All the while, I notice Umbreon under the table and the thought of letting my team out tingles under my skin. But there’s not enough room for them all here. I’ll give them a little more freedom when we get back to the hotel. The forest path isn’t far from there.
But just as I’m about to lean back and enjoy the weather, the same whistling that surprised me in the ruins reaches my ears. The lively sound and the slightly monotonous noises are almost drowned out by the chatter of the people, but they always break through and draw attention to them. It is enough to lure Coro out of his ball, his feathers fluffed up.
“Do you hear that too?” In thought, I turn to Spinel. “That whistling?”
Coro’s body sways gently back and forth before he tries to answer, but produces a loud toot rather than an acceptable melody. The lack of beautiful tones surprises him, and as he tries to contort his soft beak to summon something gentler, a wry croak escapes him.
“That’s the song of an Unfezant,” Spinel replies. “The first form, Pidove, isn’t very popular here because they often flood the streets and leave a lot of dirt behind.”
I vaguely remember seeing it in Castelia City. They walked between people’s legs, picking rubbish off the ground while cooing.
“Unfezant are much more popular because the males attract attention with their colours.” He smirks. “Your Trumbeak seems to like the song a lot.”
Coro doesn’t dare make another sound, but he listens. His body continues to sway from side to side and his gaze reaches somewhere in the distance, as if he already knows where the Pokémon is hiding.
“Do you want to follow the song?” I carefully lean down toward him so his gaze briefly glides in my direction. But Coro shakes his head. In the next breath, he loses interest in me and turns his attention back to the sounds of Unfezant.
All I can do is watch, enjoy the ice cream and prepare myself because Coro might work on his singing skills in quiet hours.
----------------------------------------
》WHISPERS《
----------------------------------------
My soles crunch as I stop in front of the wide entrance to the Pokémon Gym and scrutinise the massive appearance of the building. Before Spinel left me to go to his room and attend to his duties, he let me know that the Nacrene Gym is hidden in the museum. There is also supposed to be a library here, where a few books might prove useful for my studies to become a professor.
However, I don’t dare take a step forward. The heavy posts to my sides attract the attention of others with their metallic blue flags and the brown bricks, which give the building an ancient charm, shimmering almost golden due to the reinforcements that have been worked into them. There was no building in Alola that stood out so clearly from the others. Even the Aether Foundation looked more like a big white blob compared to what stands before me. I have to admit that Unova with its buildings seems more striking overall than Alola with its nature, mountains and eternally long paths.
“I shouldn’t think about such things...”
Maybe I just don’t appreciate the region I was taken to against my will. Many things lose their beauty when they are forced upon you and seem like a sudden prison you can’t escape from.
“Maybe one day I can ... come to love it...” Gently, I bury a hand in Ying’s fur. Her closeness gives me comfort, which has faltered since the illusion in the ruins. Here, I have no one to talk to. Lillie’s absence becomes especially present in breaths like these.
“Don’t you want to go in?”
Goosebumps spread across my body as I whirl around and look into the handsome, endless grey eyes of a boy I’m all too familiar with.
“N... Are you planning to go to the museum?” I turn back to the building. “Or are you planning to challenge the gym?”
“I ... intend to defeat the Gym Leader and become stronger.”
“For your dream of seeing the Pokémon happy?”
“Happy and free.” His gaze falls on Ying. “You seem to care about your trainer.”
Zoroark’s response is a low growl, and as N’s eyes widen, curiosity bubbles inside me. These seconds of him turning his attention to my Pokémon and having a conversation with her make me realise how Amethio and the others must feel when I talk to the legendary creatures out there; and all those who are special in their own way – like the mutated Wishiwashi.
“Your Zoroark ... Ying ... she loves you very much...” When N addresses me again, I can only raise my shoulders.
Part of me has always been sure we were a close-knit team – a family. However, knowing she communicates these things fills me with fluttery pride.
“She seems to have been listening to our last conversation.” A wan smile forms on his lips. “I didn’t think ... that a Pokémon could answer my question that way. But I wonder if that’s enough. If it’s sufficient that a few of my friends out there are happy while others suffer.” He sighs. “I want to know what hurdles and pain they have to go through. I ... want to find out things that nobody else is interested in. All the things that nobody knows and that we probably won’t learn and understand for centuries to come.”
“For example, what it looks like inside a Poké Ball?” I ask, causing him to laugh.
“That too.”
I want to believe I can find the answers to all his questions if only I have enough time. Then again, I know too little about research to just jump in. One day I’m sure I’ll find a way, but I’m still at the beginning of that journey and there are so many things constantly coming at me, it’s impossible to focus solely on this one problem.
“I just want my friends to have a happy life without being thrust into a man-made hell,” N elaborates and I nod.
“Me too. When I think about what my Mimikyu once told me... I don’t want to think about how some other Pokémon are doing.”
“You know...” he hesitates for a moment, “I’d free the Pokémon from their trainers even by force if it meant they’d be happy afterwards. It may sound terrible, but ... if I had the power, I’d tear them all apart in one fell swoop and start all over again.”
“I wouldn’t.” It’s amazing how ordinary our words sound. Calm and collected, as if we are talking about the nice weather in Unova. “In the end, that wouldn’t make me any better than the trainers who don’t care about their partners or treat them like broken toys. Besides, it would hurt humans and Pokémon to keep them all apart. But you know that.” My gaze falls on him. “You know how I feel about it. We’ve already talked about it.”
“We have,” confirms N. “I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind.”
“Do the people around you often change their minds?”
“They often waver between what is fair and their own wishes.”
“Which are not fair?”
“Not for Team Plasma’s cause.”
“So for your cause?”
Silence spreads between us until N puts his head back and takes a deep breath. Then he wipes his hands on his trousers and adjusts the black cap on his head. The scab near his lip is barely noticeable. “I wonder what your future will be like. It seems as uncertain to me as Unova’s.”
“It certainly is.”
“At least I know what I have to do to put my decision into action. Soon I will have a new friend at my side. A ruler who has already changed the world once.” He puts his hands at his sides. “And then ... my world will change, too.” He looks at me one last time. “It’s time for me to rise to the challenge.”
And with that, he strides forward, heading for the magnificent building that will give him a badge if he is victorious with his Pokémon. There’s no more room for me in this place. The tightness in my stomach begs me not to set foot in the gym, as if it would be better to keep my distance. Maybe it’s also because everything seems to have been said between us and it would be strange if we bumped into each other again in an hour.
“Maybe we should return to the hotel and rest with the others near the Wellspring Cave later.” Briefly, I lean against Ying, whose warm body heats the pleasant rays of the sun and reminds me of the scorching heat of Alola.
Then I grab her by the arm and carefully pull her away from our spot so we can walk back close together – safe in the face of Plasma’s unpredictable movements.