0-2 Blackthorn City
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"If there's League rangers at every exit," Red had said, his trademark infuriating smile on his face, "Then we'll just need to make our own."
Little Girl had seemed dubious, but she hadn't said anything, so Red took that as assent.
As always, Venusaur did much of the heavy lifting. In this case, it was as much physical as it was metaphorical, as Little Girl and her Sneasel were too weak and/or injured to make the multi-hour trek on their tiny feet. Venusaur's tremorsense led the way to the surface, then some precise application of Earth Power knocked holes in a few walls and like that, they were now on the side of Mount Whitegrave, and not stuck within its icy depths.
It was a gorgeous view. They found themselves on the northern side, so they saw a towering mountain range, the Spine of Giratina, untouched by human civilization. This late in October more than the peaks were blanketed in snow, and the sky was thick with heavy clouds threatening a storm. He could see flocks of Fearow and Spearow carving winds, and between two mountains a meandering river flowed.
Red adored scenes such as this. There was a part of him, animal and growing stronger every day, that wanted to ignore his deadlines and promises and vanish into the wilderness for years on end, nothing but him, his Pokémon, and the pursuit of power to take his attention. Nothing and no one would stop him: the Indigo League would eventually mark him as a missing person and move on, he had no family, and his many enemies wouldn't believe him dead anyways. He could return as a Fourth Realm trainer, perhaps even reach the peak of human potential at the Fifth, then return and take a later Conference by storm.
Not for the first time, he let the feelings go. Pure and simple as it would be, even the dangers of the Wild Lands didn't compare to the might of other trainers, and he'd advance faster sharpening his steel against the steel of Team Rocket, Blue, and the Indigo Conference. And the Blackthorn clan if he's lucky.
He chanced a glance at Little Girl. She, like him, was gazing longingly out at the untamed nature. He imagined much different thoughts were in her mind, though.
"Know a route into town where we won't be bothered?" he asked.
She nodded. "We'll have to circle around west, but it's not uncommon for trainers to make the hike from Lake of Rage instead of bothering with the Dark Cave. There's no trail for it, so trainers can arrive anywhere on the northwestern edge of the city. The clan doesn't bother keeping track of them all."
"Then lead the way, Little Guide."
She threw him a dirty look, but did as ordered.
It quickly became clear that she was an old pro at navigating these mountain paths. Her footing was easy and sure, and she never once hesitated when it came time to take a turn or fork. This clearly was no official trail – the hike was too perilous and, at times, nearly vertical, both up and down – but for a clan kid, she was more rugged and, for lack of a better word, wild than her clear diction and snooty vocabulary would imply. She clearly had the local mountain terrain memorized.
Red knew very little about the Blackthorn clan. Oh, he knew as much as the average Indigo citizen: the Blackthorns are indeed the eldest and most powerful clan in Johto, the peer of Kanto's Whitegrave clan, who had been forced to flee Mount Whitegrave hundreds of years before eventually signing the Treaty of Indigo and bringing an end to the Warring Clans Era. The Indigo Plateau was chosen as the site for the Pokémon World League outpost precisely because it was the territory between the Blackthorn and Whitegrave clans, and today, well over fifty years later, Blackthorn was still a name that commanded respect and prestige. To be Blackthorn meant to be at the top of the world.
He didn't know how the Blackthorns raised their kids, though, nor what their duties and responsibilities actually were, besides maintain a Gym and keep a lid on any local problems. Did Little Girl spend all her time in a fancy house, reading books and learning at the knee of the finest tutors around, like how he knows the Whitegraves do it? Or do they let their kids have the run of the place, city and wilds both, learning through trial and error like Red himself had?
And: if the Blackthorn clan was willing to annihilate the Fantasias instead of arrest them in the name of the Indigo League, what else have they done?
Red was getting excited just thinking about it. He couldn't wait.
"How much longer?" he whined, and Little Girl ignored him. Rude.
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They arrived in Blackthorn by nightfall.
The city was built on the side of Mount Blackthorn, every building a single-story, traditional-style house set into the rock face. Even traversing the streets was perilous: the city was harshly vertical, and he had to ascend numerous narrow stairs and cross a half-dozen rope bridges, twice climbing a sheer wall for a shortcut. They passed over the same river three times in the fifteen minutes it took to reach the Pokémon Center. This was all done in near-total darkness, as unlike even Pallet Town the city slept with the sun and there was zero light pollution.
That's not to say they crossed paths with no one. Thrice they saw a resident seated atop their home, staring out southwest at the rest of Johto, arrayed before them like a startlingly lifelike map. Once they saw a trainer leap off the mountain side, releasing a Dragonite midair and vanishing to the west with all of a lightning bolt's speed but none of the thunder.
Blackthorn boasted the highest elevation of every city in Indigo, and beside the thin air, the view made that clear: he could see every badge-holding city save Cianwood from here. To the west, Mahogany built on the ashes of its predecessor, destroyed by the Gyarados of the Lake of Rage to its north, and Ecruteak further west still, the legendary Bell Tower where Ho'oh was said to roost. He could see Goldenrod twinkling like stars, the beating heart of Johtonian commerce, the harbor of Olivine to its west and Violet to its east, dim only in comparison. Azalea did not glow, but he saw the coast and the Ilex Forest it was hidden within. If he lived in Blackthorn, could ever set down roots for more than a scattered few weeks at a time, he, too, would sit on his home's roof and look out upon this every night.
"It's easy to think yourself the Lord of Johto, with a view like this," Little Girl said, voice sour with contempt. Red hummed in response.
The view might play a role, but Red thinks the culprit is both more unobtrusive and more undeniable: there's a Dragon Nexus here. It's not as potent as the Ice Nexus within Mount Whitegrave, but it's also a lot closer to the surface. Its presence makes cultivating Dragon-type Aura much easier, but for the same reason Red himself has all seventeen types in his soul, he thinks an overabundance of Dragon in the souls of the Blackthorn clan explains a lot about their… their everything, really. Red stared through the earth at his feet with narrowed eyes, and wondered if the Blackthorn clan had truly been so arrogant as to build their seat of power in the heart of the Nexus.
"So you can sense the Dragon's Den," Little Girl said, and Red had to laugh. "It's a reservoir of water inside Mount Blackthorn. The Blackthorns have their secret base there. It's where they keep all their treasure: their wealth, their kids, their Dratini. My Deino is in there, whether it's hatched or not. Still want to risk it?"
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
"More than anything," Red answered, and it was the truth.
By the time they arrived at the Pokémon Center, Red had the skeleton of a plan. The night shift clerk never took her eyes off her book as she gestured at the Trainer ID scanner then tossed a key at him underhand, and Red didn't hesitate to reserve the grandest, most luxurious suite they had, which while spacious was spartan and undecorated compared to the rooms he stayed in for the Saffron Second-Realm Tournament.
Little Girl gave him a suspicious look when she saw there was only one bedroom, but he merely gestured towards it grandly, saying, "If you keep squinting like that, it'll give you wrinkles. See you come morning."
Red never could sleep the night before a good battle.
He left the Center, knowing Little Girl would rest better if he wasn't around, and he had things to do, regardless. Like survey the terrain of tomorrow's battles: both the Rising Gym and the Dragon's Den.
He was down his guide, but the Gym was obvious at a glance. The building was the biggest in the city, built out of thick stone with an open roof, a kind of vaulting structure arrayed diagonally against the cliff face: it could have anywhere between three and seven floors, he estimated, depending on how much flight space they allowed inside the Gym itself. If nothing else, Blackthorn's vertical terrain made the surveillance easier, as he could simply climb towards the peak and look down from on high.
Charizard would make this a breeze, Red thought with longing, but revealing his roster to any Blackthorn trainers would be a poor idea- and Charizard only consented to cross-continental flights, and even then only for the sake of his own impatience. Asking for a ride up would only make Charizard huff disparagingly and recall himself.
He made it eventually, taking one or two more breaks than he really needed to enjoy the panoramic view of all Johto. There were a scattered few buildings even higher up, each one a house with what appeared to be a Pidgeot Courier Service nest highest up, but it was enough.
From up here, even Blackthorn City looked no more grand or majestic than the rest of Johto. The air was thin enough that a hardened Third Realm trainer like himself was left gasping for breath, and the clouds above, dark with stormy intent, looked close enough to touch. He imagined, for a moment, being one of the Blackthorn lords of the Warring Clans Era, commanding flights of Dragonite to raze villages, subjugate rival clans, and burn Unovan ships. It was a heady image- or, no, that was the lack of oxygen.
He saw into the Rising Gym. The battleground was League standard, large, flat, and rectangular, marked with scattered rock pillars and trenches in the dirt like he'd experienced in Pewter City, what seemed like nine years rather than nine months ago. There was a pair of trainers using it, by their matching dress and bright blue hair both Blackthorn scions, and likely Gym Trainers as well.
He sat down to watch, still taking big gulps of air. Blue Side was commanding a Dragonair, serpentine body wrapped around its opponent and blue-white energy spiraling around them both in what appeared to be a Twister – Wrap combo. Red Side looked sure to lose, but their Pokémon – which Red, to his surprise, didn't recognize – was able to topple the Dragonair with sheer, physical force, then bear down on it with a rapid-fire series of savage Dragon-infused bites and claws.
The unfamiliar Pokémon had the bipedal, winged form of a Dragonite, but was a dark blue in shade with a fire-red head and sharp spikes along its tail and arms. Its wings were larger than a Dragonite's, too, scaled instead of Zubat-like, and jagged, coarse-looking. A fearsome, foreign beast, though Red's Aura sense told him it was pure Dragon-type. His anti-Dragonair strategies should, for the most part, work on it, assuming Lance used the same creature.
He also took note of something else: on the south side of the mountain, a small basin of water surrounded an entrance to a cave within the mountain's depths. A torii gate, sunset-red and well cared for, stood imposingly in front of it. As a Kantonian, Red was largely unfamiliar with Johtonian myth, but he knew enough to know a shrine lay beyond. Nothing else could be the entrance to the Dragon's Den.
Espeon was released in a flash of red light, and they got to work. They only had so many hours until daybreak.
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"I'm not going into the Gym, are you insane?" Little Girl asked impolitely.
"Yes."
"That- what? Why? What purpose could it possible serve?"
Red had a few reasons, but he didn't feel like sharing. "I need someone to cheer me on or I'll get nervous."
"That- that's dumb! You're dumb!" Little Girl even stomped her feet.
How amusing. Red wondered if shows of temper like this were more common when she cultivated Dragon-type energy, before Lance shattered her Aura. Did she even realize that her behavior had changed? Even now, though there was anger in her eyes, it wasn't the hot kind of anger Red associated with Dragon Specialists. More like… though she was angry, she was behaving on habit, not on behalf of her anger.
"They're going to recognize me, then our plan is shot," she said, though it sounded less like a warning and more like an ultimatum.
"Have no fear, Little Girl. I brought you a disguise."
Espeon had liberated some cosmetics from the Pokémart while they were closed. Red knew all the tricks to use powders and creams to bespell the contours of someone's face, had used these talents to get into places he didn't belong time and again, and he had acquired some hair bleach and clothing, as well. Little Girl looked every bit the Dark clan princess with her black hair and stormy grey eyes, sharp cheekbones – perhaps a little too sharp, after a few months surviving in Icy Path – and haughty, pursed-lip frown. He could change that.
An hour later, she had blonde hair clipped to both sides in the style of his rival Green with black hair accessories that may or may not be real Murkrow feathers. She also wore an all-black outfit of leggings, skirt, and sweater, with gold laces on her ankle boots and gold thread on the sleeves and skirt hem. It was very stylish and also screamed I am a Dark-type trainer, but was sturdy enough fabric that a little traipsing through wilderness wouldn't tear it apart, like he had seen some rookies wear.
After a long rest in a soft bed, a bath, and a change of clothes, Little Girl looked adorable and not like a wild Houndour. Red looked upon his works and felt accomplishment. She hadn't even complained much! Red decided to pretend it's because she trusted in his keen eye for fashion, and not because he was two Realms above her, hadn't ever given his name, and she was entirely dependent on his good will.
He hadn't given his name because she hadn't given hers, even though he asked, but the nuance was probably lost on her. She looked, what, thirteen, fourteen? When he was that age, he was setting fires in the wilderness and getting into fights, not listening to his elders. He was still doing that, but he was doing that back then, too. He didn't expect good manners from her, is what he was saying.
"They're really not going to recognize me?" she asked, in a soft, trembling voice, seeming more vulnerable than when he knocked her around with an Earthquake and interrogated her in the frozen depths of Mount Whitegrave.
"Little Girl, the only one there who doesn't think you're dead is Lance himself, and he must expect you to be on the far side of Kanto by now. The last place he'll expect you is in the stands of his Gym, with blonde hair, a stylish new outfit, and with a Sneasel on your lap. People see what they expect to see: and what they expect to see is my aggravating little sister who tagged along on my Journey and is barely a step in the First Realm. Besides. Even if Lance does recognize you, he'd hardly going to call you on it, is he?"
She thought for a moment, eyes trained on the floor. "…I suppose, if he pointed me out, he'd have to admit to leaving me alive, first. And that'd endanger his place in the Clan. And I was never close to the Gym Trainers."
"Exactly. Now, speaking of your Sneasel…"
He rooted around in his bag until he unearthed the final reward from last night's escapades. She took it from him with trembling hands.
"It'd be strange if they saw you didn't have a ball for your starter, wouldn't they? And strange things invite attention. Go on. I know you know how to use it."
Little Girl looked towards the Sneasel, who was lazing about on the bed and swaddled in his body weight in blankets. She seemed to hesitate for a second- but then she steeled herself, scrunched her face in that scowl he was so used to seeing from her, and threw the thing at her Pokémon with no warning.
He was laughing all the way to the Gym.
Little Girl was showing no shame, head held high and Pokéball clutched in both hands. Red made sure to only tease her a little bit. The more upbeat and confident she acted, the less likely that the Blackthorn scions at the Gym would recognize her. Their gambit wouldn't work if everyone was wondering what she had to be nervous or secretive about.
Blackthorn City looked different in the warm light of dawn. There was a bustle in the air that, while nothing compared to even some rural towns he's visited, gave the city a more innocent, friendly demeanor. At night, it was easy to convince himself that this was the seat of power for that most ancient of clans, regal and reverent, with an ironclad grip on the reigns of power; at dawn, it became clear that the residents of Blackthorn were still just ordinary people. Half of them weren't even Blackthorns.
A few even waved at them, or shouted encouraging words at a trainer so obviously about to challenge the Rising Gym. Red cheerily waved back.
As they entered the open doorway into the Gym, a blue-haired trainer behind a desk stood and offered a shallow bow. "Welcome to the Rising Gym. Are you here to challenge the Dragon Master, Lance?"
"I am," he said with easy confidence. "Will there be seating for my little sister? She wasn't allowed to watch at Cinnabar, and she's still complaining about it."
The trainer laughed. Red peered at her Aura, and saw she was early Third Realm, Dragon primary with Water secondary and weak shades of Flying. A Kingdra trainer, presumably, with a Dragonair. This high up, everyone here probably had Flying in their souls.
Within moments, his ID was scanned and he was ushered towards the battlefield, Little Girl at his heels. Their presence, the upcoming heist, his plans for the future: it all fell away as he felt the overwhelming Aura waiting on the far side of the battlefield.
Fifth Realm. The Dragon-type power was so strong, it blinded his Aura sight to the fine details, like gazing at the sun. There were shades of Flying and Water, what looked like it might be Rock or Ground, maybe a little Fire, but it was hard to tell. Easily ninety percent of it was Dragon, and the quality of power was enough to make him tremble. He had only seen the like of it once before.
Champion Oak had the same kind of soul. Fifth Realm is its own beast, and if there were more trainers at that peak in Indigo than he could count on both hands, he'd jump off Mount Blackthorn.
Red didn't notice the bloodthirsty grin on his face until he saw Little Girl edge away, wary. He paid her no mind.
He was drawn to his side of the battleground like magnetism. Lance stood opposite him, fifty meters away, radiance outmatching the sun.
"Psychic barriers: set!" the blue-haired trainer announced, voice echoing, and his view was tinted pink. "Sonic barriers: set! Aura barriers: set! Master Lance has been challenged for the Rising Badge by Trainer Red. The rules are as follows:
"Both sides are allowed six Pokémon, as registered before the match. Use of additional Pokémon is grounds for disqualification.
"Both sides are allowed one switch. Switch-forcing moves are grounds for disqualification.
"Both sides are allowed one held item per Pokémon. All other item use is grounds for disqualification.
"Both sides are allowed a thirty second period between knockout and summon. Exceeding this limit is grounds for disqualification.
"Trainers acknowledge!"
"I acknowledge!" Lance called.
"Let's get on with it!" Red shouted.
"Battle: begin!"
Twin flashes of red lit the battlefield.