Chapter 37 - Frost

Frost awoke to a low, melodic drumming sound, followed by an irritating chirp. He groggily turned his head, bringing his paws up to his snout in an attempt to reclaim his peaceful dreams. However, the chirping grew louder and more grating, compelling him to fully wake up.

“Deee!”

With a grunt, he finally directed his gaze toward the windowsill where a blue bird had taken centre stage. The Pokémon hopped and twirled, rhythmically tapping its beak against the wood and glass. It whistled a tune that reverberated painfully against the metal in Frost’s body and was annoyingly reminiscent of the songs humans in the region seemed to like.

“Ki-reed dede-re. Deee!” the bird continued its song.

Frost glanced outside, his irritation deepening as he noticed the low-hanging sun in the sky. He had been robbed of precious hours of sleep. Now he had woken up, there would be no way he’d manage to get back to bed. So, with a disgruntled sigh, he leapt onto the floor and hissed at the Pokémon in the window, hoping to shoo it away. But it was almost as if it didn’t mind Frost. The bird just carried on without a care in the world. Frost then raised his quills and conjured a small spear of ice in front of his paw.

That ought to scare it.

He lazily launched the spear at the bird, hoping to frighten it away. But no. It effortlessly evaded his icy strike and responded to the attack with another melodious chirp that somehow commanded a gust of wind to blow from behind it.

“Rooki-i-ridee. Deee!” the Pokémon insisted on the song.

As the bird continued its performance, the inconvenient wind persisted as well. Frost hissed once more and summoned another ice spear from his claws. Taking careful aim, he unleashed the attack, targeting the Pokémon’s talons.

“Deee!” the bird lost the tone as the ice shattered upon impact. Finally. It fluttered its wings and flew up, letting out an indignant chirp that Frost translated to “impolite,” before turning around to pester another poor soul.

Frost sighed. At least now he could have some peace…

—*——*—

Early morning light filtered into the room as Frost walked into the large kitchen where his human and her mate were enjoying their breakfast. He lazily stretched his paws in the air and his quills twitched, giving off a loud tingling sound that alerted the humans of his presence. He looked around and sniffed the air, sensing a sickeningly sweet smell that made him immediately cough and feel queasy.

“She’s trying to bake cookies today,” the human man commented, peering over his newspaper and meeting Frost’s gaze. In response, he hissed. He had accepted the male had formed a life union with his trainer. But he wanted to make sure the man knew he accepted nothing beyond that.

Frost’s gaze then wandered away from the man and landed on his human. She had half her body hanging out the window that led to the garden, and from a distance, he could hear the same infuriating chirping from earlier.

“Roo ki dee-ee, roo roo roo, roo,” it sang, having chosen another tune this time.

“What’s wrong with that Rookidee?” Frost’s trainer asked as she pulled herself back inside. “I’ve never seen one so noisy before.” She shook her head, while steading herself and patting her apron, smeared with something sticky and splattered with chocolate stains.

Her face lit up, and her bright hazel eyes gleamed when they met her Pokémon’s.

“Good morning, darling. Sleep well?” she smiled, absentmindedly grabbing a bowl filled with the same sticky substance that was on her apron and approached Frost. Crouching down, her smile grew as she offered him a spoonful of goo. “Want to be my taster?”

Frost looked at her with concern, and then, despite his reservations, turned back to the man, silently pleading for a way out. He hated to admit this, but there was one person in this household who knew how to make tasty food that didn’t burn. And that person was not his trainer.

He needed reassurance, but the human man just shrugged, providing him with none.

The Pokémon gulped down as he examined the batter. It had been a few days since his trainer had set her mind on becoming a great cook—staying home so long wasn’t good for anyone’s sanity—but, once she set her sights on something, nothing could deter her, not even her complete lack of culinary prowess.

Carefully, he sniffed the chocolate goo. It seemed harmless enough, at least. Frost recalled the last time she had a stubborn idea like this. Partnering with that Stone guy to bring back that monstrous Pokémon to life and then adding her to the team… What a disaster that turned out to be.

But he’d survived every time monster-mon was out of her ball. He could survive chocolate, too.

Frost steadied himself, closed his eyes, and reluctantly opened his mouth. In the end, he knew he could never refuse anything his human asked, so it was best to get this over with. In a mouthful, he swallowed the cookie dough, a ball of sugar that hit far too hard. Forcing a smile, he looked at his trainer. She seemed satisfied, and if she noticed his quills quivering and tingling, she said nothing about it as she stood up to continue preparing her poison.

Still feeling twitchy, Frost moved to the kitchen counter and climbed it up, taking a seat beside his trainer’s mate. The man’s gaze briefly lingered on the claw marks left on the furniture and then he sighed, resigned. If he didn’t want claw marks, he should’ve got handles. He didn’t make any comment about it this time, however, and before returning to his newspaper, he took a Pinap berry from a bowl and handed it to Frost.

“It should help with the sugar rush,” he murmured, gesturing toward Frost’s trembling quills. “Don’t tell Tia, though.”

“Huh, did you say something, honey?” the woman turned to her husband, now sporting a smudge of batter on her face.

The man chuckled, setting his newspaper aside, and playfully winking at Frost before facing his wife. The Pokémon, despite the human’s kindness, responded with a hiss, but the man ignored it.

“You were out late with Opal yesterday,” he casually remarked. “How are things in Ballonlea?” His grin widened. “Is she retiring yet?”

Frost’s trainer let out a smirk, putting down the batter on the table across from her husband. Carefully, she began to grab smaller pieces of the dough and shape them as small disks that she placed on a tray on the side. “One of these days, you should ask that to her face. Opal will love it.”

Her mate grimaced. “And risk being stalked by some creepy fairy for the rest of my life? No thanks.”

The woman fell momentarily silent, her focus fixed on cookie discs. Then, with a gloomy glance in her mate’s direction, she said, “Opal and I had a very interesting conversation yesterday…”

Frost observed the man leaning forward with interest and mirrored the action.

“Guess who has been calling her for training advice?” she said, turning around and tossing another cookie disc into the tray. Outside, the Rookidee resumed its noisy drumming and chanting. Before it could finish a single verse, however, Frost’s trainer’s patience snapped. She angrily closed the window, shooing the bird away. She then scooped up more batter and pressed it forcefully between her hands.

“Tia…?” the man asked with concern.

Frost’s trainer let out a bitter laugh. “Come on. You can guess. Here’s a tip,” she tried to sound indifferent. “The calls were coming from the Sevii Islands, and Opal was very surprised.”

The man frowned. “Who even goes to that godforsaken…” He paused, widening his eyes. “You don’t mean…?”

“Ohh, I absolutely do.” She threw the final disc onto the tray and slammed it into the oven with more force than necessary. Her husband winced at the impact, but remained silent. Frost felt confused. He shifted his gaze from his trainer to the man, trying to make sense of the conversation.

He hated when humans spoke in half sentences.

“She told Opal she got stuck there after jumping off a boat and being lost at sea for a week.” Tia was still trying to sound unbothered as she leaned in the sink.

The human man sighed, concerned, but maybe also relieved? “Well, if she’s calling Opal, at least we know she’s alright.”

“Otto, did you hear the part where I said she was stuck in the middle of nowhere and jumped off a boat?” Frost’s trainer turned back to the oven, her impatience clear as she opened it to check on her cookies.

Calmly, Otto tried. “It hasn’t even been a minute since you put those in. If you keep opening the oven to check, the cookies won’t ever be ready.”

Tia turned around to him. Glaring. If frost didn’t know better, she would say his human was using Mean Look on her husband—which Frost approved. Her mate, ever the peaceful one, raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

“Did Celly tell Opal anything else?” he asked, causing Frost to perk up at the mention of the name. Celly was the humans’ cub, the one they worried and cried over when no one was watching.

Was their cub in trouble… again?

She had a knack for getting into the strangest situations…

Frost recalled a serious conversation he had with Celly’s Eevee before her departure. Aria had promised to protect her trainer with her life… but… what could a small Eevee even do?

“She’s taking part in some tournament,” Tia huffed. “Opal seems to think she made friends.”

Frost huffed too.

He felt a sense of relief that their cub was okay… for now. However, he knew he should have found a stronger Pokémon to protect Celly on that journey of hers. What were her parents thinking, letting her cub go out on her own like that? (Well, they were thinking that they couldn’t stop her even if they tried. Celly was like her mother in that aspect). Still, he should’ve trained Aria better. Or helped her find another Pokémon to protect her. Something older and more powerful than a baby ice fox or a smug Normal-type. Perhaps he should’ve helped her find something as sturdy as himself…

Before the humans could say anything else, the Rookidee found its way back to the window and resumed its tapping and singing.

“Roo ki dee-ee, roo roo roo, roo.”

The woman groaned. “I swear, if this bird…” She angrily tapped the window, but to no avail. Then, refraining from yelling, she turned to Frost with a forced but sweet smile. “Dear, could you get rid of that bird for us?”

The Pokémon glanced at the bird outside, then at his trainer, and made his frozen quills stand up and his metallic claws tingle as a sign that he was ready.

Frost could never say no to his human.

—*——*—

Despite spending most of their time on the road, Frost and his family had in a spacious house with an expansive garden just outside the city. The house bordered the place the humans called the Wild Area, providing ample space for the Pokémon when they were home.

However, having a large house posed a problem when one went on a mission to find something known to the humans as the “tiny bird Pokémon.”

Annoyed he couldn’t see the bird anywhere, Frost spotted three of the Pokémon from his human’s mate team lunging by the lake that occupied a large chunk of the garden. On one side, there was Tot, the insufferable Probopass that had learned the human concept of dad jokes. In the water, there was Salacia, or Sala for short, the Wailmer that never stopped talking. Finally, under the shade of a nearby tree, was the man’s starter, Vulcan, who appeared to be only pretending to listen to his teammate’s rambles.

Vulcan was a hulking creature, with fur as dark as the night and pointy horns that burned as hot as the sun. Frost remembered the first time they met, Vulcan’s three tails whipped in the air like flames, and his breath smelled of sulphur. He remembered all of his instincts saying that he should never get close to that Pokémon. After all, Frost was born of ice and steel, and Otto’s starter was of fight and fire.

Yet, against all odds, that Blazing Tauros had become one of his closest friend. Despite the usual laziness, he was the only one Frost trusted to be of any use in difficult situations.

Funny how things turned out.

“There is a Rillaboom around!” the Wailmer declared. As she spoke, she flapped her fins, splashing water on Vulcan, who snorted out an ember in some half-hearted complaint.

“No wild Rillaboom would dare come here,” the Tauros said, shaking the water off his fur. Even from a distance, Frost could see the droplets evaporating from Vulcan’s body.

Sala remained unsatisfied with her teammate’s answer. She continued to swim around nervously. “I heard the drumming!” the Wailmer flapped her fins again but decided to hum the rhythm instead. “It went like this: Mer-mer Wailmer. Mer-mer Wailmer.”

The Probopass crackled. His little side noses spun around, but he kept quiet. Thankfully.

“Stop laughing. I’m really knowledgeable about war cries if you must know. They will march here at night and start some revolution!” The whale anxiously surveyed her surroundings. “I even heard something about a submarine. They’ll come from underwater… and you can bet I’ll be the first target. Do monkey eat fish?”

“I’m pretty sure they eat leaves and berries,” Frost said, lifting a paw to greet the other Pokémon as he approached. He shot a pleading look at Vulcan, who simply shrugged, clearly more interested in getting out of the conversation than continuing it.

“Are you sure, Frost?” the Wailmer asked, casting a glance at her sides.

Frost nodded. “And if anything like this ever happens, me and Vulcan can protect you against any creature of the green. Right?”

The Tauros lazily lifted his head and nodded, releasing a plume of smoke from his snout.

“See, nothing to worry about.” Frost scratched a quill with his claws thoughtfully. “Why do you think there’s a Rillaboom around? Have you actually seen it?”

“By the fins of Kyogre, NO!” she flapped around again, splashing water on the Probopass, who shifted and turned his mini-noses in displeasure. “But all morning, I’ve been hearing it…” she whispered, narrowing her eyes. “The war drums… They’re low, but they’re close… It’s mocking us.”

“Right…” Frost rolled his eyes, attempting to maintain his composure. “And by any chance, have you seen a little blue bird whenever you heard those… uh… war drums?”

The Wailmer didn’t hesitate for even a moment. “YES!” she flapped her fins frantically. “Do you think the bird might be a spy scouting ahead for the army?”

Frost glanced once more at the Tauros for help.

“It’s just a bird, Salacia,” the fire bull responded without sparing her a glance. He simply turned his head to the side and closed his eyes. “Frost will take care of it.”

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The Ice-type grumbled. So much for thinking highly of that lazy bull.

Frost would deal with the bird. Yes. But only because his human had asked first.

“Don’t worry, I promise everything will be fine,” Frost reassured diplomatically. He then turned to the Probopass, who was still crackling with amusement on the side. “Can you find where it went? That bird has an affinity for the steel. Maybe your noses can sniff it out?”

The compass Pokémon clacked and his “moustache” rattled. The mini-noses on the side spun a few times before finally pointing towards Frost.

“I think you’re too metal for me.” The Probopass crackled in laughter again. Frost knew the Rock-type would be laughing at his own joke for the rest of the day.

“That was a waste of time…” Frost muttered

—*——-*—

Beside the house, there was a small orchard with a variety of berries and fruit. Upon hearing some noise stemming from the shrubs, Frost decided to investigate, hoping to finally locate the annoying bird.

He should have known things were never this easy.

The commotion he had heard didn’t originate from the Rookidee, but from something far worse: the three ancient Pokémon—Sigilyph, Yamask, and Claydol—were engaged in their usual squabble.

It made sense, of course, that his human and her partner had encountered these three. The couple had initially started as ordinary trainers, but their passion lay in unearthing ancient ruins and unravelling the mysteries of the world. The Pokémon of temples and lost cities were as fascinated by them as the humans were by their history.

Yes… it made sense for them to join the humans. What didn’t was how the Pokémon acted toward one another.

“Eons!” Izzy, the Sigilyph, cried, flapping her wings and tail haphazardly. “I have protected my city for literal eons, and yet you accuse me of neglecting a mere orchard?”

Anubis, the Yamask, let out an eerie cry that Frost recognised as a laugh. “Literal eons? HAH, mortals have no comprehension of such a concept.”

The ghost Pokémon was a strange creature. As it spoke, its mouth remained still, while it swung its slab back and forth like the pendulum of an old clock, counting out all the seconds in eternity. The Yamask’s eyes—two holes in the sides of its head, filled with fluorescent purple smoke and floating, uncoordinated eyeballs—fixed upon each of its two companions as its shadowy arms extended towards them.

“Izzy is just asserting her dominance,” Cupid, the Claydol, said. As it spoke, Yamask’s arms continued to extend and coil around its companions. Clearly annoyed, the Claydol attempted to roll to the opposite side, futilely trying to free itself from the ghost’s grip. It twisted its head from side to side before redirecting its frustration towards the Sigilyph. “She spent a century circling around an old pillar in the desert, pretending to protect a civilisation that had long vanished. So, I doubt she can protect this place.”

Frost, still keeping his distance, scratched his quills. Did he even want to get involved in this? His mission was to find that Rookidee, not to stop yet another argument…

“You don’t know that!” Izzy yelled, unleashing a gust of air to break free from the Yamask’s shadowy hug. She succeeded where Cupid had failed and flapped her wings with determination before continuing. “It doesn’t matter either way. Neither of you protected anything. So, I will take charge of guarding the orchard against the bug that’s stealing our fruit.”

The Claydol abruptly stopped spinning and flapped its small stick-like arms. “Two thousand years,” its psychic voice echoed for all to hear. “That’s how long I’ve protected humans. Don’t you dare—”

“HAH,” the ghost screeched once again, pulling the other two Pokémon even closer. “Only the weak would boast about protecting the living. You are pitiful, my brethren.”

Frost sighed inwardly and grumbled as he watched. The noise, unfortunately, finally called attention to himself. The three creatures looked at the Ice-type curiously, but also with a hint of embarrassment none would ever admit was there.

They were beings older than civilisations, acting like misbehaving children…

Frost took a deep breath and let his quills relax as he walked towards the three Pokémon. “What’s going on?” he asked, eyeing them with suspicion. “What’s this about a bug stealing our fruit?”

The Yamask let out a maniacal laugh before vanishing into his slab, which dropped to the ground next to Frost. Shadows emerged from it, scouring the orchard briefly before returning. One shadow lingered by Frost’s paws, and from it, a half-eaten apple emerged.

Carefully picking up the apple to avoid damaging it, Frost studied the fruit. As he did so, the slab on his side floated back up, releasing a dark purple smoke.

Even before the smoke took shape, the ghostly voice within resonated. “A thief is desecrating our masters’ temple.” The Pokémon’s hysterical laugh continued as he listed the various obscenities that would serve as a fitting punishment for such a horrid thief.

Though Frost would never admit it aloud, he couldn’t help but be impressed by his human’s mate for winning the loyalty of such a vengeful spirit.

“Have any of you actually seen this thief?” Frost dismissed the ghost’s ravings and focused on the apple. The gnaw marks didn’t resemble those of a bug; they resembled peck marks from a very small, possibly blue bird.

The Claydol’s head spun around, clicking like a gear falling into place before it spoke. “We have not, but yours seems like a valid hypothesis.”

Frost rolled his eyes. “You keep the theatrics, but you can’t even give me something useful,” he thought to himself, quills tingling with annoyance.

The Claydol clicked in displeasure, sensing Frost’s thoughts once more. The ice-steel Pokémon let out a metallic ringing in response. He made it as threatening as he could—do not come into my thoughts—he infused the action with purpose. But the truth was, Cupid knew better than to fall for an empty threat…

All knew Frost wasn’t the violent kind, after all.

With a resigned sigh, Frost accepted that his attempts to scare them into behaving were futile. So he contemplated what to do next. Asking the ancient ones for help in finding the bird was an option, but he deemed them more trouble than they were worth.

Besides, he secretly didn’t want the Yamask to punish some tiny Rookidee for eating an apple.

Frost quivered his quills, calling the other’s attention as he dug a hole in the ground, where he carefully planted the apple. The three ancient Pokémon observed him with curious eyes, as if he were performing a ritual beyond their understanding.

And this probably was beyond their understanding…

“The thief took a bite from this apple,” Frost explained, gently patting the soil. “But they left the seeds behind. From this act, something new will arise—a shrub that will bear more apples than before. No harm has been done, so there’s no need for punishment.”

The Ice-type glanced over his shoulders, and the ghost and psychics seemed to be impressed enough with this gesture.

Frost scratched his quills, taking a moment to ponder his next move. “I’m trusting you three with the responsibility of ensuring this shrub grows strong. Can I count on your…” He paused, his gaze lingering on each of the Pokémon. “…cooperation?”

As he walked away, the trio nodded and made grand promises about fulfilling their duty. However, Frost had barely taken a few steps when he heard the spinning sound of the Claydol’s head. “I once witnessed the growth of a tree. It felt like mere minutes, yet it spanned years.”

Izzy loudly flapped her wings and ruffled her feathers. “What a waste of time! You could have been protecting your temple, but instead, you watched a tree.”

The ghost screeched again. “HAH! Mortals and their silly notions of time.”

Casting one last glance back, Frost let his quills deflate as he released a heavy sigh.

—*——*—

Frost had diligently searched everywhere, but the Rookidee always managed to slip away, leaving chaos in its wake for him to clean up.

“You two can go back to sleep. I’ll handle the bird,” Frost told Chimmy and Sapphire, rubbing his body to remove the charred spots from an electric shock.

When he found his two teammates, Sapphire, the Carbink, was bouncing up and down in a frenzy, while Chimmy, a short-tempered Chinchou, was attempting to electrocute the Rookidee. They both seemed furious at being woken up and were trying to deal with it as much violence as they could.

Oblivious to human ways, the Rookidee perched itself on the house’s fuse box, continuing to sing and tap its wings.

“Roo-ki-kee, Roo-kidee-ee,” it sang, aggravating the Chinchou to no end.

“We’ll see how well you can fly once I’ve broken your wings, blackbird,” Chimmy jumped up and down, his antennae clumsily bobbling as electricity gathered at the tips. The aggravated Chinchou, however, was never one to pay attention to details such as the fusebox, and he didn’t hesitate to launch a thunderbolt toward it.

To prevent a disaster, Frost put himself in the bolt’s path, inadvertently allowing the Rookidee to escape.

“Roo-ki-kee,” the bird continued to sing as Frost winced from the electric shock.

“Are you sure you don’t need help? We’re here for you!” Sapphire asked, giving their electrocuted teammate a concerned look. The compassionate Carbink was always eager to lend a hand, even if her abilities were limited.

“I’m not helping!” Chimmy grumbled, stomping his stubby feet. “I had that shot! Why did you have to get in the way?”

Frost let out a sigh and repeated his promise to handle the bird on his own. At this point, all he wanted was for everyone to get out of his way.

As he watched his two teammates walk away, the chirp of the Rookidee echoed in the air yet again.

“Rookidee, Rookidee, ROOKIDEE!” The bird sang yet another tune, this time with a slow and dramatic melody that seemed to say, “Let him be.”

It was clearly mocking Frost.

If the singing wasn’t enough, the blue and black bird soared past him and perched itself on the second-floor window leading to his humans’ workspace.

Without wasting a moment, Frost’s quills stood as he leaped onto the walls, his claws digging into the cement as he moved up. The Rookidee, who had clearly never encountered the alolan form of Frost’s species before, was unaware that climbing was second nature to them. In a matter of moments, the alolan Pokémon reached the bird, who, in a lapse of judgment, flew inside the house.

Frost hissed as he closed the window behind them.

“Peace only goes so far, little bird,” he grunted with anger. Before the bird could react, Frost extended his claws and lunged toward it.

—*——*—

Frost leaped from the window onto a large desk, attempting to slash the bird. However, the Rookidee remained unfazed, gracefully dancing around his claws as it flew higher up. It eventually perched on a dangling lamp above them.

“Ki, Roode. Kiki Roodee!” Feeling safe and out of reach, the bird began to sing and drum on the metal cord holding the lamp in place. It made no attempt to hide it was enjoying this “battle”, and Frost could only huff in response.

Quickly surveying the room, the Ice-type searched for a way to climb up to the ceiling. His eyes lit up when he spotted an overstuffed bookshelf on the side. With careful steps around the desk, he made sure not to disturb anything—not the piles of papers with red markings his human had worked on throughout the night; not the mug filled with pens and markers or the large computer monitor, and, most importantly, not the pokéball sitting on the corner of the table.

The last thing he wanted was for the monster inside it to be accidentally released.

Once he arrived at the edge of the desk, Frost jumped to the bookshelf and skilfully manoeuvred his way to reach the lamp. The Rookidee, who was too engrossed in its song, only noticed the impending danger when books started tumbling to the floor and Frost was already closing in.

The bird attempted to fly away, but it was too late.

With one claw Frost secured himself on the lamp while with the other he grabbed the Rookidee’s feet. The bird tried to break away desperately, but he was not letting go. He tried to tighten his grip, hoping the bird would finally stop, but, with every movement, Frost became way too aware of gravity, and both Pokémon froze as a screw from the lamp fell down on the desk below them.

Frost’s eyes followed the small object as it bounced on the table before rolling away on the floor.

Maybe it was just—

Before he could even finish his thought, he, the lamp, the Rookidee and even a piece of the ceiling crashed down. A pile of rubble destroyed the computer, and the papers were flying all around them.

Frost’s eyes darted around in frantic search of the bird, and to his horror, he spotted it gleefully flying toward the lone pokéball rolling on the floor.

He froze.

Scrambling to his feet and raising his paws in an attempt to signal surrender, he tried, “Hey, little bird, why don’t you stay away from that ball?”

The Rookidee tilted its head curiously, casting glances between Frost and the ball. Then it flapped its wings and chirped before deciding to peck at it.

In a burst of panic, Frost lunged toward the bird. Just as it pecked the release button, he manged to pull the small bird out of harm’s way, narrowly avoiding the monstrosity that materialised.

The room filled with an expanding red light, the amorphous form taking the shape of wings and an extended snout filled with fangs. The Pokémon was massive. Her head nearly scraped the ceiling, and her wings, when fully extended, were twice the size of the ruined desk below.

The monstrous creature let out a piercing screech, barring her fangs meaningly. Her tail, tipped with a sharp arrow-like point, crashed down on the floor, causing the entire room to tremble.

Frost felt his quills quivering and turned protectively toward the bird in his arms, expecting it to be paralysed with fear.

But, of course, that blasted Rookidee wasn’t.

It was frantically flapping its wings, trying to break itself free, its eyes filled with pure awe.

“Can’t you sense Petra is dangerous?” Frost reasoned with the bird as it shielded it from the drool that dripped from the roaring monster’s mouth. “This creature is a Pokémon of old, little bird. The humans… brought her back with their strange machines.”

The Rookidee seemed unfazed. When Petra—a Pokémon the humans called Aerodactyl—started flapping her wings, the small Flying-type broke free from Frost’s grip and flew directly in front of the prehistoric Pokémon’s face.

Frost could only watch in horror as the Rookidee spread its wings as wide as it could and melodically screeched back at the Aerodactyl.

Was it trying to imitate her?

Whatever this was, Petra didn’t care. One puff of air from her nostrils sent the Rookidee flying back, and off balance, and not really wanting to have the bird in her way, she flickered it away with one swift swing of her wing, sending it crashing right into the wall. That single powerful hit was all it took for the poor Rookidee to collapse onto the floor, unconscious and with its wings twisted and bent at unnatural angles.

With a sudden surge of anger, Frost took a small step back, infusing his claws with the power of steel that lay within him. The room resonated with the tingling sound of metal spiking and slicing through the air as he launched himself towards the Aerodactyl.

Petra’s body may have been strong, with scales almost impenetrable, but Frost still left a large gash across her chest.

His gaze shifted to the fallen bird nearby.

No holding back.

Petra stumbled backward, colliding with the wall and shattering the window behind her. She screeched, stepping on the broken glass, and cast a furious glare at her “teammate”. Dark smoke leaked from between her teeth. Tauntingly, she snapped her jaws shut, compressing the smoke into a dark explosion, and twistedly smiled before slowly advancing toward her icy opponent.

Frost knew he had no chance of defeating her by himself… but he wouldn’t back down.

As if his prayers had been heard, his human burst into the room, accompanied by her mate and his Claydol. Frost gave her an urgent look, but was relieved to see that she had come prepared.

On her wrist, was strapped a white bracelet with a stone that resonated with the ice core within him.

A stone bestowed upon them by the Kahunas and spirits of their homeland.

A promise he had once made to be as patient as ice and as sturdy as steel.

A testament to the bond they shared.

“Cupid, use Psybeam. Restrain them until Tia and Frost are ready,” the husband commanded, and the Claydol wasted no time.

His human didn’t have to say a word. Still, Frost felt the power that was steadily building within him burst when she yelled, “Subzero Slammer!”

Frost lunged forward, freezing everything his paws touched. In perfect synchronicity with his trainer, he lifted one claw, sparkling fragments of ice tracing his movements in the air. Then he raised his other paw, crossing them above his head. He repeated the motion three times, revelling in the surging energy.

Bound by Alola, their spirits intertwined. Her power became his own. At that moment, they were not human and Sandslash any longer. At that moment, he transcended his own limitations.

“Now,” his human said with unshakable resolve.

The Claydol, who had been struggling to restrain the Aerodactyl, released its hold just as ice spikes sprouted throughout the room. Frost brought his claws down, jerking them toward his opponent. Instantly, a trail of ice spikes erupted from the floor, growing sharper and larger before exploding on Petra, trapping the monster within what resembled a frozen star.

Frost’s human wasted no time to pick up the pokéball from the floor and walk towards her Pokémon. “If you stopped behaving like this, you could be out with the others,” she said gloomily as she recalled the creature. Her eyes then lingered on the ball for a moment before she let out a tired sigh.

Meanwhile, Frost, still panting heavily from the battle, hurried to where the Rookidee had fallen. Thankfully, his icy attack had not harmed it, and despite being unconscious and badly injured, it was still alive.

He carefully cradled the tiny bird in his paws, holding it close to his chest as the two humans knelt beside him.

“It will be okay,” his trainer reassured with a gentle smile.

—*——*—

“Burned,” Frost’s human complained to her husband, placing the plate of cookies on the table.

They had spent the rest of the morning at the Pokémon Centre, and she had forgotten about her cookies in the oven. The Chinchou and the Probopass took care of any potential fire, but when they returned home, both the cookies and the oven were destroyed.

Tia seemed really upset about losing her cookies, but for once, Frost paid little attention to her. He was more focused on ensuring the bird singing in his paws was comfortable.

“Rookidee ki dee. Dee. Dee ki Rookidee!” it—he—sweetly sang, not even minding that both his wings were in tiny little casts.

Well, that was the miracle of Pokémon Centres.

In just a few hours, the Rookidee was back on his feet and singing, and in a few days, he would be able to fly up to the skies again.

And what did Frost think about all that situation?

For starters, he felt responsible about the bird’s wellbeing, and insisted he should stay home with them while recovering. His human was surprised, of course, but didn’t complain. But there was more… That little bird was reckless and quirky, but really brave and resourceful.

Slowly, an idea was forming in Frost’s mind…

A ringing noise interrupted Frost’s thoughts, and he peered curiously at the humans.

“Is that the phone?” the man asked as he finished throwing the cookies away. “Please tell me you didn’t give this number to another one of your students.”

“One time, Otto,” Tia sulked as she headed toward the video-phone. “And I only gave our phone number to that girl because she seemed genuinely interested in the connections between the Celestica people and Sinjoh.”

“It’s a mystery how no one else picked up on your weak spot for studying the Celestica,” the man chuckled. “Naming our daughter after your favourite ancient civilisation should’ve been a dead giveaway.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Very funny,” she muttered, taking a seat by the phone.

Still cradling the Rookidee, Frost hopped onto the nearby sofa, trying to find a comfortable spot for the bird to rest.

Then, just as the ringing stopped, there was a loud thump.

Frost looked at his trainer, startled. She had dropped a vase that had been sitting beside the phone.

“C-Celly?” the woman gasped, causing both her Pokémon and her mate to spring up immediately. Even the bird turned to the commotion and slowly blinked at the girl on the screen, displaying a mix of curiosity and confusion.

Frost was less confused. But only barely.

He noticed the details on the screen. How the girl’s hair was dishevelled, her clothes were ragged, and how black smudges trailed down her eyes.

Their human cub was in trouble…

“Hey, Mum…” Celly spoke, her voice unusually quiet. “H-How are you?”

Frost’s trainer frowned so intensely that it was almost audible.

“Where are you, dear?” Otto hurriedly asked, his eyes scanning the plain background around her.

“Uh… Four Island… penitentiary…” she answered with a nervous laugh. “I might’ve… got… uh… kind of arrested?”

A tense silence floated in the air, and the human cub nervously laughed again.

Poor kid.

“Celeste…” Tia’s voice was as cold as Frost’s quills and whatever restraint was in there was barely holding.

The Rookidee pecked Frost, looking worried… but Frost clicked his claws together reassuringly. “She gets in trouble a lot,” he tried explaining, “Her parents will probably handle this one…”

But what about the next time she got in trouble? And the one after that? Celly couldn’t stay away from chaos for long… She needed something as sturdy and dependable as himself to protect her in her journey.

A Pokémon with a core of steel…

Taking from the stories of this land, their human cub needed a brave knight to watch over her while she was away…

Yes… Frost had one idea slowly forming in his mind. He smiled at the little Rookidee, knowing it would not be this tiny forever. “Little one, what do you say I train you in the ways of steel?”