A light snowstorm formed above their heads a little while into their hike. It was little more than an annoyance as the flakes pooled and melted on what little exposed skin Alec had. He pressed on regardless.
Alec checked his compass to see that they were heading northeast, though he didn’t have a map for any reference. “Any idea where we are?” he asked.
“About halfway to Whiteout Cliff,” Volo answered, without checking a map either. Alec figured he’d made this journey with Ginter enough times to have the route fully committed to memory. “Just a little longer and we’ll reach Whiteout Canyon, then we’ll continue until nightfall. I know a cave to camp in.”
Alec checked his watch, though his aching legs gave him a few hints about how long they’d been traveling. It was 4:34, meaning the sun would set in about three and a half hours. He groaned, then steeled himself and quickened his pace. The quicker they reached that cave, the quicker he could rest, and the quicker he’d get this job over with.
The scenery of the icelands was, landscape-wise, completely different from the fieldlands and the mirelands. Of the three, it was by far the most vertical, with countless ridges and buttes throughout the horizon. The trail was constantly winding up and around small hills, valleys, and embankments of snow.
But by far the strangest part to Alec was the complete lack of Pokemon. The one thing he’d been excited about, the one thing he was looking forward to about this job, was seeing the species that lived in the icelands. And so far, he’d seen nothing.
Nothing in the trees, nothing in the skies, nothing hiding behind the embankments of snow. Maybe the relatively low visibility caused by the weak snowstorm was to blame.
I don’t even want to catch anything—I just want to see what’s here, he thought with a huff.
With his mind on the topic of Pokemon, his mind drifted over to his belt, where his two Pokemon dutifully rested. He figured Tricky wouldn’t want to be out; He was still a little wary of the snow and he needed his rest for his upcoming battle against the Crobat.
Auster hadn’t had that much time to stretch his wings today, so Alec tapped his button and held out his arm for him. The majestic Dartrix emerged in a flash of light and quickly fluttered over and perched.
“Dar?” he asked, tilting his head. He spread his wings all the way and shuffled his talons, as if he was stretching.
“Nothing’s wrong, I just thought you could use a break from being holed up in your Pokeball,” Alec shrugged.
Auster chirped appreciatively—as if he didn’t let himself out whenever he wanted—and nuzzled against Alec’s face affectionately.
“Look, now we match,” Alec said, gesturing with his non-dominant hand to his parka. “Though you’re green, not red.”
Seeing Auster and the parka next to each other highlighted just how similar they were—ignoring the red highlights on the parka and Auster’s green plumage, of course. The white fluff around the neck and arm holes likened to Auster’s snowy plumage.
“Dartrix!” he agreed, comparing his coloring to the parka. They were remarkably close to being the exact same hue. Maybe with a little bit of sunbleaching and wear, the parka would darken enough to be his perfect likeness
“Believe it or not, that wasn’t intentional,” Volo interjected, slowing his pace to fall in directly behind Alec. “It was just the last one we had on hand.”
Alec hummed and glanced over at Volo. He felt thankful again that he’d gotten a normal-colored one, and not one like Volo’s. Sure, the colors were marketable and easily recognizable from a distance, but for Corps work? Being spottable from a distance would be a death wish! At the very least, the brown parts of his parka could be camouflaged into a tree trunk, though the red bits would likely stick out.
While lost in thought, thinking about Volo’s jacket, Alec’s eyes noticed something he hadn’t before—the Pokeballs hanging on Volo’s belt.
Volo has Pokeballs? Alec thought, bewildered. A very small number of people in Hisui not involved with the Corps had Pokemon partners. As far as he knew, it was just Adaman, Irida, and their Wardens.
Volo noticed Alec’s confused silence and tracked his gaze down to his belt. Volo glanced up and chuckled. “Oh, these? Yeah, I have Pokemon of my own, though they’re nothing like yours. I don’t use ‘em for battle—they’re more like companions to me than bodyguards.”
He plucked the first Pokeball from his belt and held it up, allowing the setting sun to glimmer brilliantly off the metal clasp. A ray of light stabbed Alec in the eyes, leaving him blinking and pricking a purple spot into his sight.
Volo tapped the button and a small beam fluttered out, a bit smaller than Tricky’s was when he was still a Shinx. On the ground before them, a small oval shape emerged. When the light faded, Alec was surprised to see the species. Togepi, an extremely rare Pokemon. Its eggshell was spotted all over with red and blue rings and its little arms and legs poked from small holes.
It made a few cooing noises and waddled over to Volo to hug his leg. Volo smiled warmly. “This is my Togepi,” he said, scooping it up and cradling it with both arms. “I’ve had him for a few years now. Togepi, this is Alec, a new friend. Say hello.”
Togepi shifted in his arms to face Alec and looked up at him with big, inquisitive eyes. “Toh!” it cooed, waving a stubby arm. Alec broke into a wide smile at the cute display and waved back.
“Where’d you find him?” Alec asked, resuming walking.
Volo tilted his head back, thinking. “Hmmm…I think it was somewhere in the coastlands, near the mountains. Ginter and I were on Gingko business. He was asleep underneath a tree, and I nearly tripped over him. I gave him a berry as an apology, and he’s never left my side ever since.”
“Ha, that’s almost exactly what happened to me when I caught Tricky,” Alec smiled, reminiscing. “Remember that, buddy?” he asked Auster.
That day, back when Alec had only been in Hisui for a handful of days, back before disasters kept happening around every turn. He hated to say it, but he missed those days. Those sweet weeks before Alec felt like he was carrying a mountain on his back.
“Would you be willing to let professor Laventon borrow Togepi for a few minutes, to make its Pokedex entry? We’ll likely have trouble getting a Togepi, since they’re so rare and protected by their parents.”
Volo looked down for a second, then cheerfully responded, “Sure, I’d be happy to.”
Volo opted to keep his Togepi out of his Pokeball for the remainder of their walk. It quickly fell asleep in his arms, squeaking out a soft snore. A little while later, Auster got bored and went back into his ball.
Still, there weren’t any species of Pokemon around them, anywhere—much to Alec’s confusion. Just desperate to see one new species, he would frequently veer off their path to climb a snow bank and see over it. Even still, nothing.
“What’re you looking for?” Volo asked, seeing Alec trudge down a slope disappointedly.
“Pokemon,” Alec simply answered. “Not to catch—just to see, you know?”
Volo furrowed his brows. “I can’t relate to wanting to encounter any Pokemon too much; they tend to spell danger in my line of work. That’s why we’re traveling mostly in daylight—it’s no wonder why we aren’t seeing anything.”
“What does daylight have to do with it?” Alec asked.
“Nearly everything up here is nocturnal, or at least comes out at dawn and dusk at the earliest. It’s getting late, so we’ll start seeing Pokemon soon,” he said with a shrug.
Now conscious of the position of the sun—almost below the Mountains of Acuity in the distance—he checked his necklace watch. It was 6:49, meaning they should reach Volo’s cave sometime soon.
I might as well give up my search if there’s not anything to be found at this time of day, Alec thought. He resolved to quicken his pace, to reach their destination sooner.
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About thirty minutes of boring, nothing-happening walking later, Alec finally caught sight of something.
A little ways off, likely about 300 feet away, with a blue coloring that stood out against the bleakness, was a Pokemon.
Even from the distance, Alec could tell that it was an Alpha. It was tall enough to make the trees next to it seem like mere saplings, meaning it would easily tower over him by at least a foot. Alec recognized the species. He’d seen it on TV before, and he’d seen it absolutely mop the floor with its opponents.
“Lucario,” he whispered, feeling a weak chill that definitely wasn’t caused by the cold.
The blue and black canine was pacing across its hill, throwing punches as if it were performing a kata routine. Alec could faintly hear its barks and grunts over the wind.
He tapped Volo’s shoulder a few times to grab his attention and pointed at the Alpha Lucario “Look over there,” he whispered. “A Lucario.”
Volo glanced over and did a double-take. “Whoa,” he breathed. “It’s, uh, extremely rare to see Lucario in this part of the icelands. Don’t worry, we’re safe. Lucario never attack unprompted.”
“Even Alphas?”
“ Especially Alphas,” Volo said. He stared straight at it, unblinking and in awe. “It’s strange. Alpha Lucarios aren’t like most—they almost seem more in control.”
Volo seemed to force his tone to return to normal. “But like I said, we aren’t in any danger at all. Look, I see the mouth to the cave, let’s go settle in for the night.” He picked up his pace, making a slight jingle as the metal in his backpack clinked and clanged.
Alec looked, and sure enough, there was a small yawning hole in the cliffside, just slightly taller than a person. It seemed to be nondescript and secretive, so they’d be safe there during the night.
But as he was leaving, Alec gave one last glance over to the Lucario.
To find it looking directly at him.
Its gleaming red eyes seemed to pierce straight through the snowfall like flaming arrows. It stood perfectly still, having stopped its training from before. Alec froze, more taken aback than afraid, and returned its gaze.
Alec wasn’t entirely sure what happened—and he figured he would likely never find out—but his powers from the Psychic-type Plate started to act strangely. Without any input from him, it felt as if he met halfway with the Lucario and formed a tentative connection. Instinctually, he knew it was a two-way connection—they both could sense each other’s emotions.
From the Lucario, he sensed nothing but ambition. That was why it was here so early—at least for a nocturnal sleep cycle—to train. That was why it was trying to connect to him now.
Awe and ambition of his own coursed from Alec’s mind across the mental link. He basked in the shared connection for a second.
“Alec! You coming?” Volo shouted from the mouth of the cave.
Alec blinked, looked over at Volo, and felt the connection snap. The merchant was waving at him, holding a small bundle of firewood in his other hand.
As he headed over, he shot a brief glance over to the Lucario, who was still watching him. I’ll be back, he thought. You’re definitely out of my weight class now, but I’ll train hard and face you in combat soon.
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The fire in the cave crackled warmly, casting a tangerine glow across the walls that danced to an unseen rhythm.
Having taken off his parka, Alec sat beside the fire with his legs folded. His clothes beneath were slightly damp, nothing the fire wouldn’t take care of in due time.
Volo was doing the same, though he was still wearing his now-damp hat. The brim cast a harsh shadow over his face, obscuring his eyes.
Conveniently, the cave had a pile of stacked firewood and a prepared fire pit, complete with a spit for warming their dinner provisions. Volo had told Alec that the Gingko guild frequented this trail so much that they needed to equip it as such.
Volo turned a large piece of smoked meat above the fire, from an unknown species of Pokemon. Honestly, Alec was too tired and hungry to ask about it.
They’d been sitting in silence for about fifteen minutes. For all the excitement of the day, Alec was perfectly content to allow the cracking and snapping of the fire to be sufficient noise.
Outside, the snowstorm had intensified. Where visibility had previously been a nonissue, Alec now doubted if he could navigate through it. He was thankful for Volo’s foresight to stop in this cave rather than press on through the storm. The snowflakes seemed to dance in strange patterns, blown about by the wind.
“Shhh…” The sudden sound quickly drew Alec’s attention. He quickly turned to look back at Volo, who was gently laying his Togepi to sleep beside the fire. Now that it had Alec’s attention, he could hear it faintly snoring.
Not a bodyguard, but a companion, Alec thought, remembering Volo’s words. He shot a glance over to his Pokemon, both fast asleep and cuddled up close to each other.
Bodyguard and companion aren’t mutually exclusive to each other, he thought, allowing his gaze to drift back to vacancy. I’d like to think my bond with my Pokemon extends beyond protection, even if they have to fight to protect me. That pretty much means that Volo only thinks of his Pokemon as pets and nothing more.
A part of Alec reawakened with curiosity. “How long have you had him?” Alec asked, keeping his voice quiet.
Startled, Volo jerked his head and blinked a few times. “Sorry, what did you say?” he innocuously asked.
“Lost in thought?”
“Yeah. Something like that.”
“I asked how long you’ve been together with your Togepi.”
Volo grew a thin smile as he looked upward into his memories. After a moment, he muttered and used his fingers to count something. “I’m not entirely sure. It’s a bit less than eighteen years, since that’s when I joined the Gingko guild.”
Alec raised his eyebrows. “And how old are you now?”
Volo sighed and looked away. “Twenty-four.”
That meant he’d joined the Guild when he was six years old. But that didn’t make any sense, if Volo had joined the Guild, he hadn’t been born into it…and Alec fell into a brief spiral of mental rhetorical questions, deciphering Volo’s backstory.
Silence filled the air as Alec absentmindedly stared into the fire, deep in thought, and Volo avoided eye contact by staring at the cave wall.
Eventually, Volo spoke up. “I can see you’re confused.” He grabbed a stick and poked at the fire, causing a stack of twigs to collapse and ignite anew. “Ginter and Tuli aren’t my biological parents. They adopted me when I was little, and I had no choice but to follow them into the Guild. They raised me and taught me everything I know about being a merchant.”
As he spoke, he didn’t make eye contact with Alec—or acknowledge him at all. He may as well have been talking to the stones and snow.
Alec gasped as he quickly tried to backpedal. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to dig up bad memories. We can talk about something else if you like.”
Still staring into the fire, Volo made a soft hum. “I’m okay, really. I wouldn’t have told you if I wasn’t okay with talking about it.”
Again, Volo’s reply didn’t encourage conversation very well, so they returned to more awkward silence. Only the soft breathing of them and their Pokemon, alongside the whispers of the fire, filled the silence. Volo kept poking at the fire with his twig, seemingly lost in the vortex of the flames.
“How about a campfire story?” Volo asked, sitting upright and discarding his twig into the fire. “That’s basically tradition, right?”
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Alec sat up, too. Not wanting to upset Volo further by pushing deeper with questions, he went with the flow. “Yeah, I know a few good ones,” Alec replied. “You like scary or funny?”
Volo laughed. “Right, I keep forgetting you’re not from around here. In Hisui, our stories aren’t simply stories. They have depth, meaning, and purpose. Some even say the stories have souls of their own.”
Now, Alec was intrigued. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just wait and listen,” Volo deadpanned. “Let me tell you the tale of the village of Paradise, its discovery, and most importantly, how it was burned to a crisp.”
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“It all begins on a ship called the Horizon’s Beckon. The two co-captains, Lord Straven and Lord Virixal, only had one purpose: To discover the undiscovered, to chart the uncharted, to map the unmapped. Along with their crew of about two dozen men, they sailed off the edges of whatever map they could find, just to see where the world would take them. The two captains were best of friends—closer than any fraternal bond could ever go.
One day, disaster struck—an impossibly strong storm caught them unaware. Straven, Virixal, and the crew scrambled to repair the ship, patching holes and tossing as much overboard as they could. Eventually, the storm passed, and Straven gathered the crew.
But, Virixal was nowhere to be found, not anywhere on the ship. There was only one conclusion: He had fallen overboard and no one had noticed from the panic on deck.
Almost a decade later, Captain Straven returned to that same area, for there was still uncharted ground. Just a few leagues past where the storm struck, their spotter discovered land—a dense jungle that didn’t match anything Straven had ever seen before.
The crew anchored their ship and began to trailblaze through the jungle. They had already dealt with a similar jungle on a previous voyage, so Straven was confident in his crew’s strength.
After trekking through the dense forest for hours, they stumbled upon a cluster of buildings affixed to the trees like treehouses, with bridges and ladders connecting them and integrated perfectly with nature. Confused people emerged and greeted them.
Straven asked to speak with their leader, but the villagers denied him. They pointed to the tallest building, a house wrapped around the tallest tree in the area. “Our king is a holy man,” they said, “and he is not to be bothered.”
Still, the villagers showed great hospitality to Straven’s crew, welcoming and providing for them. One day, Straven was walking through the market, when he noticed something strange.
“Why don’t these stands have vendors behind them?” he asked, to a villager who was showing him around. The only people to be seen were customers, who were simply dropping their coins into an unattended jar for payment.
“Why would they?” the villager asked, confused.
“To keep people from stealing, of course,” Straven said incredulously.
The villager chuckled. “Oh, we do not do that here,” he simply said.
Straven was shocked. How could an entire village function on such a simple ideal?
He later discovered the same principle applied to all sorts of things—lying, arguments, fights, everything malicious. He demanded to see their king, desperate to question him about how he had created such a perfect nation.
Just like last time, the villagers denied his request, but Straven was insistent this time. He shoved his way through the crowd to the king’s house, wrapped his arms around the trunk, and started climbing. The crowd below was silent as he climbed, save for a few faint mutterings. When he reached the top, he hoisted himself up and opened the door.
Inside the house was a shock nearly strong enough to make Straven stumble and fall from the platform.
For the corpse inside wore a familiar face.
“Virixal?” Straven gasped. There was no mistaking it—Virixal had been the one to create such a perfect nation. And he was the one to die while ruling it.
At his feet was a journal. Straven felt his eyes grow damp as he thumbed through the first few pages, detailing how Virixal had washed ashore and happened upon the village.
‘These people are fools,’ the journal said. ‘They have named me their king, all for simply releasing my Pansear. They must not have any Fire-types in such a dense jungle, so seeing someone wield fire must be like magic to their savage eyes.’
And so, Virixal had manipulated the village into believing he was a divinely ordained king. For fear of retribution, the village had quickly sprung into a heaven of sorts, built upon a foundation of hell.
Furious at his friend’s actions, Straven grabbed the corpse and threw it from the house. It landed at the feet of the villagers, who were shocked to find their demigod was mortal.
“Your king is a liar!” he shouted, addressing the entire village. “He was never a god, nor a prophet, only a lowly man who deceived you.”
The crowd was speechless.
Until a shout cut through the silence, and all heads turned to see two villagers in an argument. One accused the other of overcharging at his shop, and the other of being too frugal. Other villagers joined in the fight, which quickly escalated to a shoving match, and from that to a brawl.
Straven gathered his men and plunged back into the jungle for fear of being caught up in the fight. They ran back to their ship, which was still dutifully anchored on the shore.
As they raised the anchor and prepared to flee, Straven turned around for one last look at Paradise, and saw the jungle ablaze like a funeral pyre. Smoke billowed upwards the inferno raged across the horizon. The dry jungle, which had never before known fire, was consumed as a burnt offering to the false gods of men.”
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“And that,” said Volo, “is the story of how the last haven of goodness on the planet was destroyed.”
Alec shifted his legs—his posture had grown uncomfortable from sitting still for so long. His eyes were heavy and his mind was racing.
What did that story mean? Volo had said that Hisuian stories had depth and purpose beyond simply being entertaining. He stared at the merchant, trying to discern any additional meaning or context from his facial expression. It stayed perfectly stone-cold.
“One of the first things I remember is that story,” Volo said. The storyteller’s tone, full of inflection and emotion, was gone. Instead, his voice was quiet and cold, like the snow outside.
Alec grimaced. The tragic story weighed heavily on him. “You said the story had meaning. What is it?”
Volo looked up at him. The bright fire reflected in his pupils, making it look like they were rippling with strange energy. “Isn’t it obvious?” he said. “It means that people are inherently evil. The only reason the villagers were any good at all was because they were being manipulated. As soon as they came to their senses, they turned on each other.”
Alec shifted uncomfortably, suddenly feeling awkward. He took a moment to think about what to say. “Do you mean that about the people in the story? Or people in general? ‘Cause I disagree that people are all bad.”
“Of course I mean people in general,” Volo shrugged. “I know myself better than anyone, and I know that I’m a bad person. Everyone else knows it too, deep down.”
“But what about all the good you do every day?”
“What about it? Sure, you can do good, but at the end of the day, every single day, humans always cause more bad than good. It’s just how we are.”
Volo spoke with such assertion—as if he knew with absolute certainty—that Alec was nearly inclined to believe him. Legendaries Above, what a depressing outlook on life! Alec couldn’t imagine waking up every morning and believing that he was going to be a burden on the world.
A heavy lump formed in Alec’s throat. At that moment, looking everywhere but at Volo was comfortable. The walls, the fire, the snowstorm outside, his sleeping Pokemon…
He thought of all the good he’d done while in Hisui. All the knowledge he gathered for Laventon, which went on to become arguably the most influential document in history. All the evenings he’d shared with Rei and Akari by the campfire. The look on Beauregard’s face when he first met his partner Beauticia the Wurmple. Miki, Nikaro, and all the villagers he’d helped accept Pokemon into their lives so far.
But…he couldn’t shake the mental image of all that had come from his arrival. Space and time itself torn asunder. Simply by existing here, he caused so much pain—hurting Kleavor, Lilligant, and all the Pokemon they harmed. Technically, it was the rift in the sky that caused their frenzy, but what else could’ve disrupted it so much? What else besides an entire person catapulted across the globe and centuries into the past?
He looked Volo in the eye. “I disagree,” he said pointedly. “There’s no way to wrap everyone in such a broad statement like that.” He wasn’t entirely convinced...but he spoke with as much authority and knowledge as he could muster.
Volo scoffed, but Alec continued. “Such a complex issue is way bigger than a simple campfire story. Having a bad day doesn’t make you evil, and a good one doesn’t make you a saint, either. The world just isn’t black and white.”
Volo shifted his posture. “Black and white? I’ve never heard that term before. What does it mean?”
“It means there’s more to the situation than the extreme sides. The morality of humanity is such a complex issue that it can’t entirely lie on one end,” Alec stated.
They were silent for a moment. Alec breathed steadily in an attempt to quell his swirling emotions.
“Alright,” Volo shrugged after a moment. “I guess I can see where you’re coming from. But that doesn’t change the fact that people do awful things every day.”
“Yes it does,” Alec countered. “And I have a story to prove it.”
He cleared his throat, recalling one of the most important stories of his childhood.
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“Centuries ago, there was a rich and bountiful land. Several tribes all laid claim to its resources, endlessly fighting for control and dominance.
One day, two twins emerged, wielding a powerful Pokemon simply known as the Great Tao. Together, they united the tribes and brought everyone together. They built a castle and ruled over their prosperous nation for decades.
But even with their success, the twins still had strife. One sought truth, and the other ideals.
The truth brings light to confusing situations, so the older brother never let his opinions cloud his judgment. His words may have been cold and scathing, but they carried an unprecedented weight and wisdom.
Ideals allow one to see things for how they could be, so the younger brother always kept an optimistic outlook. He recognized that the world was a ruthless and unforgiving place, so he always strived to be a helpful light with his advice.
One day, they were visited by one of their subjects, a young woman who came from a family of blacksmiths. This was a frequent occurrence, as people all over the nation sought to grow from their wisdom and counsel.
“Thank you greatly for your time,” the woman said, bowing deeply before the twins. They were seated on two mighty thrones, one carved from snow-colored marble, the other from inky-black obsidian. The Great Tao slept behind them. The elder brother bade her to rise and describe her plight.
“I recently discovered my passion for the musical arts,” she explained. “However, I am from a humble family of blacksmiths. I know that I must apprentice under my father to master the art of smithing, but I have the opportunity to follow a master musician who is leaving town tomorrow. I am at a crossroads; my head longs to go one way, my heart the other. Please, O wise kings, tell me where I should go.”
The younger brother spoke immediately. “This is a simple decision. I believe that you should pursue your passion and become the musician’s disciple. If you pursue smithing, you will likely be miserable and regret the choice for your future life. Therefore, I believe you should leave here and seek out the musician.”
A joyous smile came upon the woman’s face. She immediately turned to leave, but the elder brother said, “Wait!” Deep in thought, he sat forward on his throne and cupped his chin. “Brother, you misguide her, for the real world is not as forgiving as you see it to be. She said that she comes from a humble family of blacksmiths. Smithing would be a much more stable career choice, whereas music would be risky. As a blacksmith, you can still practice music in your spare time as well. Therefore, I believe you should return home and study the art of blacksmithing.”
Behind them, the Great Tao stirred.
“Brother, why must you always ignore the exit in favor of panicking in the dark?” the younger snapped. “You know there is more to life than those harsh truths you repeat day and night.”
The elder brother stood up from his throne and faced the other. “My ‘harsh truths’ may be hard to hear, but they’re necessary, unlike your arbitrary and pointless musings of ideals. They prevent people from seeing reality, when everyone lives in it!”
The Great Tao began to growl and whimper in pain. It squeezed its eyes shut and began to claw at its ears. Regardless, the twins continued their argument—one believing in the world as it is, the other in the world that could be. Neither conceded nor admitted defeat, even after hours of bitter debate, all the while the Great Tao was becoming increasingly agitated.
“Your ‘ideals’ are all that’s wrong with our mighty kingdom! No one sees the truth anymore!” the elder screamed.
“At least I’m not the one crushing dreams at any chance I get!” the younger snapped back. And so, they decided to settle their dispute in the traditional way: A Pokemon battle.
They both turned to the Great Tao, ignoring its pain and demanding that it side with them. Their heartless bickering upset the balance within the Great Tao. It was loyal to both brothers, so how could it stand with them through their quarrel?
And so, the Great Tao tore itself into two pieces, one white and one black. The white one, representing an unmistakable expanse, took the name Reshiram and stood beside the older brother. The black one, representing a void of infinite possibilities, called itself Zekrom and stood with the younger.
Fire and lightning rang out, razing the castle to a skeleton of rubble and ash. The brothers, still unsatiated, kept fighting.
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“This is a strange story,” Volo interrupted.
“What do you mean?”
Volo scoffed. “Where’s the foreshadowing? Good stories are supposed to have clues, you know? To hint at what’s going to happen. There’s no indication which brother’s going to win at all.”
Alec chuckled. “That’s the point,” he punctuated with a nod. “Neither brother won at all. Their battle took both of their lives. They both lost.”
Volo sat back and hummed, seemingly deep in thought. Technically, Volo’s complaint was valid—Alec’s tale didn’t have foreshadowing because it was documented history, not a story. But regardless, the point remained the same.
“The world’s a complex place,” Alec said, breaking the silence. “Not everything has a clear winner, you know? Some things just have to be gray.”
Volo only hummed, staring deeper into the fire.
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The next morning, the storm had cleared up, leaving Alec in awe at the magnitude of the Mountains of Acuity. While not as tall as Mount Coronet, the range’s sheer length was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Alec had to crane his neck to see their steep peaks, all the way up in the sky.
If an avalanche started up there, I don’t know if there’d be anything I could do to save myself, an intrusive thought shouted from the back door of his mind. He quickly shook his head to rid himself of that terrifying image.
Volo and he gathered their things silently, save for the clinking of metal objects being loaded into backpacks and satchels. Volo’s Togepi seemed to share his penchant for silence, as the only noise it made all morning was a soft yawn when it woke up.
Alec’s Pokemon, the slow risers that they were, required a bit of additional convincing to get up. He had to pick up Tricky and carry him around for a few paces to jumpstart the normally energetic Luxio. Alec was thankful that Tricky was still a manageable size and weight for him to pick up—he’d have no such luxury once he was a Luxray.
“Ready?” Volo asked softly.
Alec looked up from his satchel, nearly done packing his belongings. He isn’t bringing up what I said last night. Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk about it? Or he’s still pondering my story? Either way, I won’t be the one to press it again.
He gingerly slid his bedroll back into his satchel, carefully packing it in alongside his empty Pokeballs and vials of medicine. “Yeah, let’s go.”
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“Slow down. We should be coming upon the Crobat soon,” Volo warned.
Alec nodded to Volo’s suggestion and released Tricky from his Pokeball. He immediately crouched into a battle stance, ready to pounce at a moment’s notice. Alec could also faintly hear the crackle of electricity as Tricky passively used Charge to build up static electricity.
The second half of their journey had—somehow—been even more uneventful than the first half. There had been a few species of Pokemon visible in the distance, but nearly all of them were indiscernible against the intense haze of the snow. It made sense that Pokemon here had learned to blend in against the white for camouflage.
Just then, a loud screech rang out, a stark contrast to the silent snowscape of before.
“CROOOOOOO!” it screamed, from just beyond a corner in the valley before them. Alec winced at the sudden noise.
Volo and he locked eyes. Volo raised a finger to his lips and quietly moved over to the corner to peer around. Alec dutifully followed, taking care not to crunch the snow with his footsteps.
Just around the corner, the Crobat flew wildly, pursuing two small Pokemon Alec didn’t recognize. Both of the small Pokemon were clutching berries in their claws—and the Crobat looked furious that someone would steal food from its territory.
The Crobat itself was absolutely massive, easily one of the biggest Pokemon Alec had ever seen up close. Well, save for all the Alphas and Nobles. Obviously.
Its dark purple body seemed to be more sinew and tendon than muscle, and its leathery flesh shifted uncomfortably with each flap of its wings. It bore several wide scars all across its body—even on one of its wings. It looked exactly like a monster one would imagine that lived in a cave its whole life, without ever seeing sunlight. It screeched raggedly at the two Pokemon it was pursuing, flapping its wings unevenly as it chased them.
“It’s distracted—now’s our chance,” Alec muttered to Tricky. “Open with Thunder Fang. Use the trees for cover once you’re done.”
“Lux,” Tricky barked in confirmation, leaping from behind their rock. He growled as he ran full-speed straight at the Crobat. He leaped up, channeling Electric-type energy into his fangs and tearing into Crobat’s back.
The Crobat screeched in pain and shock. It thrashed and bucked, trying to shake Tricky from its back. From the corner of his eye, Alec noticed the two Pokemon scramble away and disappear into a burrow.
After a moment, the Crobat successfully shook Tricky. As Alec instructed, he scrambled behind a tree—just in time to dodge a Venoshock.
It’s clearly used to dealing with attacks that target its weaknesses, Alec thought. It’s weak to Ice-type attacks, and it lives in a tundra. It’s probably had to power through countless strong attacks.
“Stay on the move and use Charge!” Alec commanded, keeping his voice down so as not to draw too much attention to himself.
Tricky darted from tree to tree, skillfully and nimbly dodging poison sprays. Alec could barely recognize the moves it used for the most part, as it was spewing its poison erratically, without any plan or intent. The Type-energy-filled globules of shimmering purple semiliquid seeped into the snow, forming unnatural stains.
Their dance continued for a bit longer without any damage on either side. Crobat seemed to grow increasingly angry—its cries became more guttural and its attacks grew more erratic.
After a moment, Crobat got a lucky shot off.
It’s common sense to aim in front of a moving target, and any other Pokemon would’ve done it intentionally. The Crobat, however, accidentally sprayed poison at the right angle to catch Tricky as he ran to cover
He stumbled—but didn’t fall—and yelped in surprise. Alec could distinctly see the area growing faintly lilac, overpowering Tricky’s natural blue fur color.
A part deep within Alec’s subconscious, a part honed by all the time he’d spent battling, gave him a warning. His instincts, or intuition, or gut, or whatever you wish to call it.
That Crobat’s about to lose interest in attacking Tricky, he suddenly thought. And that meant it would retarget toward the only other living thing in its territory.
“Tricky use Thunder Fang again, quick!” he shouted, already breaking into a run. Hopefully, the weak poison wouldn’t fully hinder him.
Crobat screeched at Alec’s sudden outburst. It bore its fangs and roared at Alec, sending spittle flying in a rage. Its fangs began to pulse with the same indigo hue as its veins pumped poison into them. It beat its uneven wings, flying straight at Alec.
Before Alec could even begin to panic, Tricky flew in as a black, blue, and yellow blur, knocking the Crobat out of the sky. Its agonized scream made Alec’s muscles involuntarily seize up in secondhand discomfort.
When Tricky leaped back to Alec’s side, he saw faint Lichtenberg marks on the Crobat’s wing membrane. It quickly righted itself and started flying again, but Alec could tell it had taken serious damage from Tricky’s attacks. Like most wild Pokemon, it was trying to act tough and intimidating.
Besides the rock he was partially standing behind, there was no other cover in the immediate vicinity. Tricky lowered his stance and growled threateningly.
Not wanting to appear weak, the Crobat bellowed another screech and flew at them in a direct attack. This time, instead of channeling indigo Poison-type energy, its wings glowed with a shiny chrome color.
Alec’s mind blanked for a split second at the Type of attack it could be using. He thought back to his knowledge of the Type chart, which dictated which Types naturally opposed each other. One of the Types that opposed Ice was Steel—and the Crobat’s wings glowed gray like metal.
“Steel wing,” he muttered. In his head, he immediately knew the battle was over. Even if the Move connected, being an Electric-type, Tricky would take minimal damage.
This Move was definitely the Crobat’s trump card, its strongest attack to use against particularly headstrong or stubborn foes. It had likely gotten a great deal of practice with it, using it against all the Ice-types in the area.
“Be ready to roll to the right,” he said. Tricky barked in affirmation, digging his claws into the snow for traction.
The Crobat grew closer, wings gleaming with smoky energy.
“Now!” Alec shouted at the last second.
Tricky dove to the side as commanded, rolling and landing square on his paws. The Crobat’s slash only met air and it was imbalanced as a result.
“Thunder Shock, finish this,” Alec simply said.
Tricky didn’t hesitate to comply. With minimal effort, he pulsed a bolt of electricity directly toward the Crobat, knocking it out of the air for good. It crashed into the snow, sliding for a foot or two before stopping, unconscious.
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Once Alec confirmed it was defeated, Volo hastily grabbed as many direshrooms as he could. After scarfing down a Pecha berry to cure his poisoning, Tricky helped too, utilizing his sharp sense of smell. Alec was careful to warn him not to eat any though, for fear of their potentially addictive nature.
Before long, Volo had secured several bundles. He wrapped them in strips of cloth and stowed them in his backpack.
“That’s all,” he said nonchalantly. “Shall we be going?”
Alec stared at Volo, mentally lagging behind reality for a split second. Wasn’t there more to do here? Surely he wasn’t already done with his job.
But sure enough, he quickly regained his wits and nodded. Yeah, that was everything he was being paid to do. His job was done.
But a faint inkling reminded him—no, your work isn’t done. After learning about how Volo saw the world, Alec mentally added a new goal to his bucket list.
To prove to Volo that the world was brighter than the black blanket he draped over it.