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The Fairy King's Tower - Northern Norstad Region
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"Fine. It's a deal." Caleb Pravus glared at the man across the unnecessarily long mahogany table that sat him, and the rest of his followers with room to spare in the sparse meeting room reminiscent of his cult's various unoccupied buildings around the world. Those that had managed to climb on Yveltal, anyway. He could send someone to retrieve the others later. If they were even alive still. There was a time when he wouldn't have left anyone behind, but he'd long since stopped caring about which of his sentient pawns lived and died after coming to control the billions who inhabited Fornia and beyond.
They were expendable, after all. And irritating. Always whining, complaining about morale, or the weather, or their lack of time with family. He was quite sick of it, frankly. He pulled the enhanced Dark Ball from the magnetic clips that held his other sentient tools on the inside of his suit jacket, and tossed it to the man.
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He had to hold back disgust as a psychic aura of pink surrounded the ball, and levitated it towards the man, who examined it with a sigh. "Shadow Infusion, hmm? How…original. But not…I think…as potent an infusion as your Lugia had."
There were murmurs of distrust, and each of Pravus's followers eyed their 'ally' with practiced disgust. The only thing worse than psychic Pokémon were humans with psychic powers. They were considered to be among the greatest enemies of those who made Arceus's will manifest on Earth, rumored half-breeds whose parents were enslaved consorts to the ever-manipulative psychic Pokémon.
There was, of course, no evidence to support the theory that humans and Pokémon could successfully breed in the first place, none that Pravus hadn't fabricated at least, but thanks to the ever-expanding sources of smut on the Pokénet, his followers believed it, and the so very human urge to endlessly fetishize everything and then post it on the world wide network gave the cult all the proof they needed that there was in fact a secret psychic domination by psychic types in other regions.
It was these Pokémon, like the Ralts and Elygem lines, and their 'Trainers' that were responsible for whatever perceived attack the Church was playing victim to. In recent years, the most common complaint was easterners, and Unova in particular. The fact that one of their newest Champions had all but soloed the Victory League Elite Four with a Gallade also played into the conspiracy, and his propaganda arm had made good use of that footage on their 'news' networks.
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The man who caught the ball holding Yveltal, destruction made manifest, was the epitome of what one might expect an 'eccentric billionaire' to look like. Fine light blue and white clothes with golden colored highlights the same shade as his strange, wider-than-average shining eyes. He had the same look in those eyes that those who trained fairy types gained, if they trained long enough. Thin, but classically good looking features, platinum blonde hair under a hat with a long pointed brim that flared in the back, and an ever-irritating smirk. Were it not for the fact that he had more money than anyone Pravus knew, he'd be a welcome enemy. One day, perhaps, he'd get his hands on this man's fortune, but for now, he could be patient.
"You have your precious Yveltal. Now talk. Where is Xerneas?" Pravus stared the man down, but he simply smirked, and thumbed the release on the ball. Nothing happened.
"Nice try, little Caleb, but you're going to unlock this before I give you so much as a hint." The man stared him down with his piercing, unnatural gold eyes. "Do it. Now."
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His followers looked between their so-called ally, and their beloved leader. He was loathe to show weakness in front of them after spending so long literally beating obedience into them, but he had no choice. "Fine."
His two left pointer-fingers were limned with black energy as he waved them at the ball. There was a noticeable click. "It's unlocked. Now tell me what I want to know!" He didn't notice slamming the table, but his friendly adversary did, and frowned. He looked more disappointed than irritated.
He tutted at Pravus. "Temper, temper. I'll tell you. No need to get violent." Pravus's eyes narrowed dangerously. He was rapidly tiring of dealing with this man, but he knew he couldn't kill him, and he'd just given him the only Pokémon that might have been able to.
"When you woke this Yveltal up, Kalos's Xerneas went back to hibernating. This means, our Xerneas is now awake again, for the first time in millennia." The man tossed the Dark Ball up and down, seemingly taunting the 'Prophet', and he was admittedly enjoying the growing rage he saw in the madman's eyes. That would only motivate him more.
"There are only so many forested areas in Norstad. Xerneas shall be awakening soon in one of them. I can provide you with aerial transport, I have plenty of spare ships. Do try to bring it back in one piece." The man gave a grin to Pravus, whose knuckles were turning white against the table.
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"Like I'd ever come back here…" He muttered.
"Oh, but you will be coming back here, Caleb." The man said, still tossing and catching the ball. "You'll be bringing Xerneas to me, before you leave these lands. Otherwise you won't be leaving them. Nod if you understand." The fae man gave the Prophet a smirk.
Pravus' left eye twitched with suppressed fury, and his adversary had no doubt that one of these poor bastards under him would be an outlet for that rage before long. "Fine. You need to make it give me what I seek, anyways. It only listens to you, or so the legends say."
The man's smirk widened into a knowing grin, "Oh, I wouldn't trust legends around these parts. They're a bit…unreliable."
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Pravus sighed heavily, still glaring at the man. "What do we do about the Articuno riders? My men aren't competent enough to stop them, and that white one…well, even Yveltal had trouble with it."
The eccentric man paused in tossing the ball, it hung in mid-air, once more suspended by pink aura. "Articuno riders? Really? Huh. Well, if you avoid their village, it shouldn't be an issue. Send one of your more charismatic men there. They won't be able to resist being distracted by fresh meat. If that fails, you'll have to hope the ship's cloaking device doesn't break."
Pravus rolled his eyes. He made a point of making sure any rival charismatic personalities were culled, or suitably controlled. He didn't have any with him on this mission. He'd figure something out. "Fine. Show us to your ship."
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Meanwhile…
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Two Charizard in their Mega Forms did indeed prove effective against the snowy aspect of the storm, but the wind was a literal wall. Alex and Jess had camped in a mountain cave and managed to wake up at a reasonable hour, but now they'd lost several more, battering uselessly against the wall of wind. The storm was circular, and spread for miles, never moving. It was entirely unnatural, but similar in some ways to the one they'd passed through earlier.
Eventually, Blaze and Chari combined Dragon Pulses, and managed to blast a temporary hole in the wind. It was a struggle to fly through, but eventually, they made it through to the other side. Both were panting hard, and Alex switched them out for Shruikan.
He and Jess rode on his back this time, after he mega evolved, as he was flying slowly through the relatively stormy area. Even within the cyclone of black clouds, the weather was horrible, and the temperature well below freezing. Shruikan often exhaled a Flamethrower, just to keep his core heated.
They continued flying and searching until the sun began to set. He knew flying at night in a place like this wouldn't be a good idea. Their Charizard could keep them warm, but he didn't want to camp on the barren ground. Finally, Jess spoke up, sensing something.
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"There's…what looks like a village, north of us. It's full of people, at any rate. Maybe they'll give us a place to sleep." She looked at him, shrugging.
Alex was more skeptical. "And maybe they'll kill us before taking our stuff. Might as well look. There's nothing else around here."
Shruikan banked towards the village, and as it came into view, Alex had to blink. To his eyes, it looked like a city straight from a video game, in classic 'nordic' style. Wood buildings, wooden and thatch roofs, dragon heads carved everywhere, wooden carts pulled by hardy looking Mudsdale. The resemblance was uncanny. There was a shriek from below, and Alex glanced down as he noticed they'd been seen by a woman of the town.
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He had to blink again as the man beside her turned and ran towards the town shouting, "Alduin! The World Eater returns! The end is nigh!" He and Jess shared a look. She hadn't been half the 'gamer' Alex and her brother had been in the old days, but even she knew that name. The Dragon Who Ate the World, sometimes called the 'World Serpent', was an ancient myth, one which had gone on to inspire a certain antagonist of a certain popular RPG by the name of Skyrim from Old Earth's time, or so the story went. Naturally, it had been remade in the modern era as well and surprising no one, had sold very well. He'd known Norstad had similar tales to those in the game, that seemed to share a cultural history and tone, but the use of the same name was surprising.
He felt Jess pinch his arm, and he moved to bite at her fingers as she did. "Ow."
"Focus. You're in your head again. We need to act. For whatever reason, these people think your dragon is the World Eater. We should land before they start trying to shoot us down." Alex scanned the town, focusing as she spoke.
Arrows had indeed started flying up towards them, but they bounced uselessly off Shruikan's scales, and seemed poorly made, or heavily re-used. Eventually, he unleashed a Flamethrower, incinerating those still in flight. The archers ran then, towards a large building at the back of the town. Alex and Jess agreed that it was likely where they would find a Jarl, one of the major powers in this land, supposedly.
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He saw a burly figure, wielding what looked like a giant two-handed axe stride from the largest building, axe resting on his right shoulder. He had a familiar looking helmet on, made of what looked like iron, with shed Skiddo horns curling down either side. It was uncannily similar to the one that had become somewhat iconic, as it usually was on the cover of the aforementioned game. "Is it bad that my first instinct is to try and sneak around him, steal the helmet, and then run to the nearest cave?"
He heard his lover sigh as she leapt from his dragon, landing gracefully moments before Shruikan did. Shruikan towered over all of them, though the burly man had to be pushing seven feet, and was awfully close in height to his dragon.
"Thees ees thee mighty Alduin!? Pagh!" The man spat on the ground. "I 'ave seen 'orses weeth lahrger clahws." Alex felt Shruikan's amusement at the large man's accent. He had muscles, an impressive weapon, but he lacked wings and the ability to breathe fire. In Shruikan's mind, that made him inferior.
He leaned down towards the man, and his maw sparked with electricity. The man stepped back a few paces, and then fell into a crouch, brandishing the axe. Shruikan looked to his Trainer for a cue, and Alex held up a hand. "How about we all…just calm down, hmm? We come in peace."
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The burly man burst out laughing, and several of what had to be his goons came trotting up behind him, similarly garbed in bits of leather and iron, all wielding deadly looking weapons, as well as shields. "Peese! Ha! 'E vants peese, boys!" The man's jovial attitude shifted to a dark smirk. "Let us show heem vhat 'peese' he finds in Norstad!"
Alex looked around at the other men, and he didn't need psychic powers to guess what they wanted. Not one of them had stopped leering at Jess since she landed. He'd been training for this, and he nodded at Shruikan and Jess, before stepping up to the man. "I take it that means you wish to fight, then. Send out your Pokémon. I'll use Shruikan." He gestured to the Salamence, and Shruikan raised his wings, as he crouched low, ready to battle.
The helmeted man tapped the axe's haft against his free palm. "Dat's not 'ow we do things in Norstad, boyo." He raised the axe. "Here, we fight for Honar! Weeth our own 'ands! ZIINKRIF!" With the shouting of the strange word, he swung, bringing the weapon down in a diagonal slice.
Alex turned himself sideways, making his usually large form a smaller target, and leaned backwards slightly, letting the axe pass by harmlessly, and dig into the frozen dirt ground. It went into the permafrost several inches. The man wasn't playing around.
He pulled the black and white staff from his back, and it extended several feet, slamming into the ground as he held it before him. "Fine. I accept your challenge. I'm Alex, Champion of the Unova Region. In my country, we exchange names before fighting."
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The burly man seemed irritated, and focused on pulling his weapon from the ground as Alex spoke. He grunted, nodding. "Eh. Too much talk, in your country... I ahm Jarl Arkyn. Now fight with your puny steek, 'champeeon'." Alex raised a brow at the man, bowed, and then dropped into a fighting stance that Jess and Shruikan were all too familiar with.
Seeing his opponent wasn't going to attack first, the burly Jarl charged him, bringing his axe up in the opposite diagonal direction. Once more it whipped past Alex harmlessly, as he spun in place, and moved around the sloppy attack. It left his opponent's guard wide open, and his footwork was appalling. He hooked his staff with his ankle, and used the two combined to trip the larger man as he stumbled forward, off balance.
"Pitiful." Alex said, taking on an instructor-esque tone he knew would annoy and enrage the fighter, making his anger blind him, ideally. "Your footwork is sloppy. Your strike is slow. How has nobody killed you yet? Did your Mudsdale teach you to fight?"
Roaring in irritation, the man let his upswing's momentum carry him as he stumbled and regained his footing. He spun, and guided the axe down behind him in another downwards slash. Alex barely had a chance to raise the staff, catching the absurdly large weapon by the haft and the base of the massive blade as he was made to kneel under it, the honed edge inches from his face.
The Jarl had a murderous grin as he tried pressing down on the staff, but Alex was already as far down as he could go. His base was solid against the ground. "Better."
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Alex raised his stave's left side, tilting the weapon's balance, and letting the man's attempts at pushing his opponent down drive the blade into the earth once more. Furious, the Jarl let his weapon go, and moved to punch at Alex, but his fists only hit air, and he stopped suddenly as he felt the stave's tip press against his throat.
"I wouldn't do that." Alex said, staring him down. "Pick up your weapon. If you don't, honor demands I fight hand-to-hand as well…and if I do that, you will likely die." The man opened his maw, likely to spew more garbled insults in his rough accent, but Alex didn't let him.
The staff spun with a blur of white and black, and smacked him across the face, hard, stopping any speech, and giving Alex a sense of just how hard it would be to take a man this burly down. It had been like striking a dense, fleshy boulder.
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Judging by the lack of any kind of give from a strike that hard, he knew the only way he'd win was to unbalance this man. Brute force would never work. His strength had never been an issue, as he'd always had enough physical strength to move boulders they dug up in their fields, and even stop a Tauros mid-charge. It was hard to admit this human mass of muscle could physically overpower him, but he didn't have time to nurse his bruised ego.
The man grabbed the axe again, yelling as he tore it from the ground in an explosion of dirt and snow, and spun blindly in Alex's direction. He jumped back, but the man kept spinning, letting his momentum do the work as he spun his weapon in a whirlwind of death. Alex swore. The counter to a move like that was relatively simple, but Jess and Arthur were better at it. He was usually too big to safely duck under the opponent's weapon.
He had a staff this time, however, and a poorly trained opponent. The three ghostly dragons had been much cleverer and stronger, even in the humanoid forms they'd sparred with. The Jarl was quite tall as well, which made ducking under the spinning axe much easier. By the time he noticed the foreigner he was swinging at had disappeared, he was already having his sloppy footwork knocked out from under him.
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He landed on his back with a grunt, and he snarled, fully intending to rise again. A quick jab to his wrist's tendons caused his hand to drop the axe. The staff rested against his throat once more. "Yield." Alex said, looking down.
The Jarl laughed. "We do not surrender 'ere. We fight to a glorious end…you 'ave thee wrong veapon for thees country." His laughter faltered as the black edge of the stave turned sharp suddenly.
"I said Yield." Alex repeated, pushing enough to draw a small drop of blood. "I didn't come here for your women or your lands. I want information. You can keep your life, and everything else."
The man looked at his axe, and reached for it, only for a massive claw to hold it in place. Shruikan growled at his cronies, who looked ready to jump in, despite the cry of Ziinkrif. The closeness of the massive, and now sparking black Salamence seemed to erode the man's bravado. "Fine! Bloodee foreigners…I talk, you take your death dragon, and go avay."
Alex let up on the staff, and nodded to his dragon, who backed up several paces. "Good. You said you're a Jarl, right? Who is your High King?"
The man sat up, grabbed his axe, and then used it to push his considerable bulk to a standing position again. His face had a new look of fury upon it, and he looked ready to start attacking again. "How do you know of thee High Keeng!? We do not speek of him to foreign scum! Who told you! I vill keehl heem myself!"
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Alex rolled his eyes. In truth, he'd been guessing, based on prior experience with this seemingly familiar culture, that a High King even existed. "Nobody told me anything." He let his eyes flare up with blue psychic power. His voice took on a deeper tone, and echoed with power. A simple, but effective trick. "I know he exists. Where do I find him?"
The man stared at the strangely garbed dragon-riding foreigner, and his demeanor did a one-eighty. The men behind him mumbled, and shifted uneasily where they stood. Offensive postures shifted to defense, and several made signs of what he assumed were warding with their fingers in the air.
The Jarl eyed him for a long time, and then shouldered his massive axe. "North…by thee edge of thee storms…he ees my fatha'. Do not kill him, Nahgah Gein."
Alex sighed, looking northward. He was accruing all sorts of new titles that he had no idea the meaning or significance of. He let the power fade, and his voice and eyes returned to normal. "I have no intention of killing him. As I said, we…did not come here to fight."
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The man looked at him suspiciously, one eyebrow rising. "You come 'ere…not to fight? You are strange man indeed, but then, foreigners are always strange. Ah. I s'pose every man 'as his own vay of reaching Sovallah."
He eyed Alex again, and then his dragon, and the woman beside it, a bit longer than he needed to. Alex coughed, getting his attention. His cronies had noticed her now as well, as she'd approached with Shruikan. Red hair was uncommon here, judging by what he'd seen of the genetic makeup of the village, and her looks were likely more alluring than any woman in the region that they knew of, trapped as they were behind a massive wall of wind.
"Grrrm. If you weesh to spend thee night, I vill ahllow eet. You fight well, you fight with honar, you ride the Dovah vith no trace of fear! I vould not want to anger such a man. You are velcome een our village. For thee night." The man gestured to the village, and Alex heard the men murmuring. He didn't need to read their minds this time, either. The barely suppressed lust was obvious.
He glanced back at Jess, speaking mentally. "Well? Do you want to deal with oversized, pent-up men for an evening?"
She smirked back at him. "Is that a hint of jealousy under that irritation?" She winked, then pretended to ignore him as she patted Shruikan. "I don't mind staying. Connor is learning about the culture from the natives. We should too."
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Alex nodded at the Jarl then. "Very well, your offer of hospitality is accepted. I just have one question…where can I get a helmet like yours?"
That brought laughter from the Jarl, and the gathered warriors, who'd sheathed their weapons. He patted Alex on the back hard enough to drive him forward a few steps as they headed for the village. "We shall geet you thee finest 'elmet we 'ave! And then, we feest!"
After Alex had his helmet and received sufficient mocking from his woman and his dragon after trying it on, he recalled Shruikan, and the entire village seemed to calm down. They set about gathering information, then. The village was called Frändiheim. Their leader aside, the villagers were, after a few pints of 'Nor Mead' and several cries of 'Skoal!', quite friendly.
Or rather, as friendly as one could expect sequestered people to be to outsiders. Jess found that the men spoke to her far more openly than the women did to Alex, and while they were certainly not ugly, what with their rustic charm and primarily blonde hair, they simply couldn't measure up to Jess in looks. The men were a bit different, mostly blonde, with a few brown and black heads thrown in, their features might've been pleasant, if a life of beating each other to a pulp hadn't warped them. With little else around to entertain them, the men, not one of whom was under six feet tall, had needed something to vent their testosterone on. The local fight club was very popular.
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They didn't think highly of bathing, either, primarily because heating anything in this region took a very long time, if one managed to even find a source of fire, and something to burn. That more than anything assuaged Alex's ingrained fear of being romantically stabbed in the back. He knew Jess better than he knew his family, and yet, he couldn't quite shake the fear. It was certainly justified, what with her looks and the amount of attention she got. After his first real love had essentially cheated with the majority of the town behind his back, with no less than thirteen others (that he'd been told about), long before Jess her family had ever moved to town, he'd had the underlying paranoia.
She was well aware of that, however. Such details were hard to hide from someone you shared a mental link with all hours of the day. Thus, she never gave him reason to worry. Despite the men and their willingness to talk, all she really got from them was endless ego-boosting compliments towards her beauty. They spoke rough, but she could sense their honesty, and it was rather flattering.
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Thus, Alex was the one who got the most useful information. From what he could tell, the women found his gaze too intense for their liking, and his beard was, by comparison to the villager's, scrawny.
Despite that, he learned that they were the only village allowed to live within the High King's 'Ven Vund' or Wind Wall. This was, supposedly, the most fertile land in Norstad. He hadn't really noticed a difference between it, and the other frozen, barren tundra but he took the villager's word for it.
When he asked why only their village was allowed here, he was told that it was due to the fact that each of them had blood ties to the High King himself. From what he was told, the High King was an immortal, a deity, of a sort. He was sometimes portrayed in legends as a prankster, other times, he was told tales of how he'd traveled the world, taming Pokémon, averting disasters, seducing women, and fathering countless children over the course of several thousand years.
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He had power too, not unlike Alex's, or so the Jarl had said, once he'd brought up the High King again during dinner. He said that those like Alex were sent to live with the king in his northern fortress, where he trained them, and if he found them worthy, sent them to the Seidr's Isle. There, they were supposedly taught by an order of old men known as the 'Graybeards'.
Once more intrigued by the uncanny similarities to his favored RPG he was finding in this isolated village, he asked what power these Graybeards supposedly had, but at that, the Jarl clammed up saying, "You ask the High King. Ees not my place to speek such words to a foreigner." More and more, he was becoming convinced that there was a reason behind their cultural norms and the uncanny similarities, but the women had been as stubborn as the Jarl to talk about their origins, if they even knew of them. Many of the younger women had simply stated such things like legends of Alduin as old stories that had always been known. Whether they were true or not wasn't even questioned.
He then tried to draw out a name for this High King, but the Jarl was having no more talk of him, and instead began questioning him about his dragon and whether it was actually the harbinger of the end times. Alex assured him that Shruikan wasn't going to end their world, but even despite that, he knew the Jarl had doubts.
Apparently, they really didn't like black scaled dragon types around here. He scolded Alex, claiming his Salamence was probably one of 'Alduin's offspring'. Of course, that only made the fact that he had tamed such a creature all the more impressive to most of the villagers. Most had never seen a Pokéball, and when he'd recalled the dragon, they had been awed. It seemed these people were rather easy to impress with technology that must've seemed magical to them. Unlike the Articuno riders, none had heard of Pokémon Trainers before.
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Eventually the two retired to the bed set aside for them, in the Jarl's own spare rooms. Alex sensed him sneak up to their room to summon Jess, and from what he sensed on her end, it was evidently to attempt to cuckold him.
He felt a bit smug as he sensed her deliver a bone-shattering kick to the man's crotch, before returning to the fur-lined bed. Now, he'd definitely be spending the night alone. The adrenaline kept her up however, and she nudged Alex, suggesting that they further incense the man by making it obvious as to what they were doing in the borrowed bed.
Both had discovered that, after a good night's sleep, the urges that had been muted in Tao's home had now returned, with a vengeance. Not that either of them minded.
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The next morning, they were rather satisfied, even though the broken bed frame had interrupted their sexcapades, forcing them to sleep on the floor. The furs were padding enough, and they'd slept on harder surfaces.
They bid farewell to the Jarl's woman, or rather, the leader of his own personal harem, and then left. She claimed her husband was recovering from the drinking of the previous night, but it seemed Jess' kick had been quite effective in crippling the man. She hadn't held back.
They headed north then, to the fortress the Jarl had spoken of, and shared what information they'd found out the night before. It was clear something was off in this region. The similarities to the established lore of Skyrim was too much to be coincidence, but according to the locals, it had been a part of their culture for as long as they'd had a culture to be part of. Alex wondered if it was like this in the rest of the region, though the village of matriarchal Articuno riders was new.
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They both agreed then, that this 'High King' was likely the one behind these similarities in this particular village. If he was the prankster he'd been made out to be by his own relatives, tricking an entire village into accepting a fake culture as their own, similar though it was to the rest of Norstad, was right up the alley of a being that was supposedly immortal.
That too wasn't all that hard to believe. They were in a region that was home to Xerneas, after all. It was rumored to grant eternal life to those it deemed worthy, and it didn't seem entirely impossible that a person given such a gift would then use it to influence people over generations. It had happened in Kalos. It would be even easier if he possessed some kind of psychic power as well. The people seemed relatively happy with their simple culture, despite the violence. That was more than most dictators allowed.
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As they approached the northern edge of the third fierce wall of wind they'd encountered, they saw it completely vanish, for a moment. They were able to make out a tower as the snow and black clouds cleared. It was clearly metal, but it had been painted to be the same color as mahogany wood, and like the village, there was a Nordic vibe to the style of the building, with traces of what looked like Eous influence. Jess had even remarked that it looked similar to the tower she'd seen in Ecruteak City.
Something drew their eyes, as it shot from the top of the tower, where they made out what could have been a landing platform. It had extended from the tower, slowly, and they had agreed it was likely an invisible aircraft of some kind. Whoever this High King was could have just left, but as the outer wall of wind returned once the barely visible outline of the ship passed through it, the platform remained extended, and the wall of wind that surrounded the tower remained lowered.
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The two Trainers shared a look. "Seems like an invitation to me." Jess nodded in agreement, and Shruikan began ascending towards the landing. The wall of wind turned fierce again as they landed, and Alex recalled his dragon, then took Jess' hand and made their way towards the entrance at the top of the tower. He walked towards where he assumed there was an entrance. It looked like a wall of mahogany brown metal, but as they approached, battered by the ever-increasing wind, the wall seemed to split in half, and opened to admit them.
Neither one of them could see the interior, but Alex trudged forward anyway, his free hand keeping his hat on his head. The room before them revealed total darkness within. Alex walked into it, and extended his senses. What he found intrigued him. Since he'd gained this ability to understand Pokéspeech, he'd found conversing with Ninetales to be that much more interesting. They were as clever as a Delphox, but much, much wiser. Not to mention shy. Always interesting, though.
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Blue and white balls of flame lit the interior of the room, and once more, he noticed the theme with mahogany brown. It was real wood this time, even the floor. Covering the floor was a standard Pokémon field used for battling, usually indoors at gyms. The entire floor of the tower must have been devoted to the field, such was its size.
On the opposite side was the Ninetales, and though one might've expected the regional ice type variant, this one seemed just as fiery as the more common line of the species. Its fur was a silvery blue, however, and no Trainer stood behind it.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
A voice rang out through the room, presumably via some sort of intercom. "Welcome, welcome! It's been so long since I've had such…interesting guests. The ones that just left were rather…prejudiced, but you two…you two are cut from the same cloth as me! How wonderful!"
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Alex and Jess shared a look. It was clearly a man speaking, though he had an almost genuine-sounding Galarian accent. Most people could easily fake one though, and it seemed to be universally enjoyed the world over, given how often it appeared in televised dramas. His mother had watched a lot of them when he was growing up.
Alex spoke first, "Right…umm…who am I speaking to?"
"Oh, how ruuuude of me! Kurama! My entrance, please." The Ninetales, which had been sitting in the gloom and grooming a fore-paw seemed to roll its eyes.
One of the tails glowed, and pointed to the center of the field. Blue flames swirled as a very obvious opening in the field's Pokéball center raised up an equally obvious platform, upon which was a man.
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His hair was whitish blonde, his eyes were gold, and his fine clothes and hat all had a theme of light blue, white, and bits of gold accents. He was built thin and wispy, and there was something almost...fae about him. Especially his wide, shining golden eyes that reminded him of Fairy Type Trainers. Alex just slowly raised one eyebrow at the man as he made a dramatic pose, before the flames dissipated.
Alex brought out his Pokédex then, and thumbed through it hurriedly, then closed it just as quickly as he confirmed exactly which Pokémon the man's color scheme was matching. It was a trend with Trainers, especially wealthy ones, and this man seemed to be emulating the 'shiny' form of Xerneas. Evidently, the one in Norstad did not look like its Kalosian counterpart.
"I am Percival von Guterstein Velhavende Locuples the Third. But you can call me Percy!" The man finished his absurdly long name with a flourish, and Jess golf-clapped, far more amused than Alex was. He had a growing suspicion that the man's previous guests had been their own quarry, which likely meant the jovial attitude and flamboyant charm was a farce.
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"Percy…very well…I'm Alex, Champion of Unova. My lady here is Jessica Gladstone. We're chasing down a band of homicidal zealots that we have reason to believe came this way…" He paused, eyeing the man.
Most humans had the normal typing and his enhanced vision had, thus far, always confirmed this. Those who had dual typing were rare, but it was usually obvious. This man, to his eyes, seemed normal as well, but something was off. It was like he had a second typing, but for some reason, it was eluding his gaze, hanging at the edge of his peripheral vision.
"Oh, they did come this way. I assume you mean little Caleb and his…followers. Yes, they came here to deliver Yveltal to me. In exchange for information." Percy walked to his Ninetales, patting the lovely fox, before taking his place in the Trainer box on his side of the field. "I assume you already know what they're after. I'd be disappointed if you didn't. I gave them a clue and a ship, for you see, I have a vested interest in finding Xerneas as well."
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"Do you have any idea what he's done with Yveltal? There are still reports coming in, from all over Kalos. Seemingly random people, turned to stone, their businesses and land are being legally fought over by the Kalosian government and the Arceans who want to buy them. And you just let him fly off to go gain eternal life? Why!? You don't look like any Arcean I've seen." Alex stared the man down. He wanted to like him, but something about him brought a deep-seated sense of dread. Jess didn't feel it, and he had no idea why he did. It was more of an instinct, than anything.
Though the signal had been spotty, his Holociever, which also functioned like a television, had kept them somewhat informed of what was going on in Kalos and Unova. After years of relative peace without random teams of criminals interfering with the affairs of the world's many regions, a new wave of them was evidently starting up again. On the heels of Tao's return, rumors were coming in across the globe of rising tensions and power plays between enemies. The dragon had predicted turbulence, for now that Unova was again a 'major player', others would accelerate their plans for domination.
Percy rolled his eyes. "Well you're right. I'm no Arcean. I've done the 'cult of personality' thing, and it was amusing for a while…but then I got bored. Little Caleb's group is…a bit too violent for my tastes."
"Then why help him?" Alex asked, reaching for Hydrus' ball.
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"Because he's the only real connection to the outside I have anymore. The only one that will speak to me, anyways. And, he wants Xerneas as badly as I do. Fret not, Unovan Champion. He can't get what he wants without me…and I have no intention of letting that man persist for eternity." Kurama followed his Trainer onto the field and Percy gave his Ninetales a thorough petting as he spoke, and then took his place on the area for Pokémon. "Enough. No more answers! If you can give Kurama and I a decent Battle, I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Deal?"
Alex nodded his agreement, but as he went for Hydrus' ball, he saw the flamboyant man make a gesture that, to his eyes, registered as some sort of psychic power. His hesitation was momentary before throwing the ball, but he did a double-take as Leo, not Hydrus, was called out mid-nap.
"I'm not interested in your Swampert. Battle me with your Luxray, one on one, no type advantages…I find his thoughts intriguing…and that fur, oh, it's so lovely!" Percy's Ninetales stood then, tails flaring out behind it. A low growl filled the room, and Leo's ears flicked in annoyance.
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Alex raised a brow at Leo as the large cat yawned, and glanced at his Trainer. They spoke with the speed of thought. "Well? How about it?"
Leo stretched and dug his claws into the field, smacked his lips, and then opened his intense gold eyes, taking in and staring down his foxy opponent all at once. A small smirk appeared on his lips.
Leo's words were slow, careful, and his tone had a persistent air of superiority. "Mmm…yes. I shall Battle this one…" Suddenly, his mane stood on end, electricity flowing through it. Sparks covered the rest of his fur, and he returned the intimidated fox's growl with a loud roar that shook the air.
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Percy clapped excitedly. "Ooo. Careful Kurama…you woke the kitty from his nap." The Ninetales loosed a Flamethrower then, and Leo countered with a Thunderbolt. The two attacks canceled out in the air, and Leo's eyes lit up, piercing the smoke, and following his opponent. A condensed ball of dark energy came flying out of the cloud, but Leo dodged it easily. It exploded in a manner Alex recognized, and left a crater with a horizontal swirling pattern in the field.
Alex smirked. So, someone else had thought of condensing the energy of spherical pulse moves. So much for being original. "Get close, and strike hard." Leo was better with physical attacks, though his special ones were almost as strong, due to his training. It made him versatile, which was useful against the flying and water types he usually battled.
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His Luxray wasted no time then, charging the fox, only to pause before attacking. There were nine copies of it now, and they began running, circling the electric lion, and smirking as they did. "Ohoho! What to do, what to do! I do so enjoy it when he uses this move. More Shadow Clones, Kurama!" Percy seemed to be enjoying himself, but Alex only smirked.
"Double Team is an effective move, I'll grant you that…but…" Thunder manifested in Leo's jaw, surrounding his formidable fangs as he leapt at one of the foxes, clamping down hard on it with the Thunder Fang, and throwing it from the field. "You can't fool the eyesight of a Luxray."
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"Can't I?" Percy snapped his fingers, and the bluish white flames lighting the room vanished. "Confuse Ray."
Though the change in light didn't affect Leo, it did cause him to lose track of his opponent for a moment. The ray hit him from his left, as soon as Kurama ran back onto the field. Flames shot from its tails again, lighting the room once more, only to reveal eighteen images of the fox. Leo's head was spinning, and he growled, arcing a Thunderbolt through three of his best guesses.
They vanished, only to reappear seconds later. "Seems like your Luxray is having an issue with aim!" Percy chuckled, and this time, each fox formed a condensed orb of dark energy. Fifteen of them shot towards Leo, who strafed to his left, and dodged three, before the real one struck home.
He rose from the hit slowly, shaking his head. The confusion was gone, luckily. "Pretend to stay confused." Alex said through their link, smirking. Leo walked forward shakily, and then ran for one of the Ninetales, attempting a Crunch attack. He bit through the illusion harmlessly, and hit the ground hard. He looked around, panting on purpose, still pretending to be confused and pulling it off rather believably.
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Percy sighed. "Oh well. It seems this is decided. Finish it." The fourteen Ninetales formed Flamethrowers this time, but by then, Leo had singled out the real one. As the flames approached, he shot a Thunderbolt towards the real Flamethrower, just as the others hit him. He pretended to go down in the cloud of smoke from the collision of the moves.
Percy opened his mouth, but paused, seeing Leo rise again. The cat gave him a grin, before unleashing a Discharge across the field with another air rattling roar. He chased after the edge of the electric wave quickly. As it passed through each clone, Percy shouted, "Dark Pulse!"
Leo's Thunder Fang caught the condensed dark ball of energy, tossing it elsewhere in mid-air before he came down with a Crunch attack, causing the fox to flinch. He finished the fight with another Crunch, tossing his opponent across the field. Kurama struggled to stand, but his Trainer was by his side.
"That's enough…pretending to still be confused…clever. I almost bought it, until I realized he'd hit the real Flamethrower. I'm sufficiently amused! Well fought, both of you. You are welcome in my abode!" The man turned, and paraded through another door, this time made of real wood, at the opposite end of the field.
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Alex glanced at Jess, shrugged, and followed the man. He still had questions. Percy led them into a posh lounge, complete with everything one might expect a rich snob to have in such a room. Fireplace, large screen television, adjoining kitchen that also had a bar. It had the same color scheme he did, light blue, white, and bits of gold.
"Go on then," Percy spoke as he settled behind the mahogany bar. "Ask away, I can sense you have a thousand questions."
Alex raised a brow. "Can you? I'd heard you also had psychic abilities…"
It was their host's turn to raise a brow. "Heard? Oh, from that village. Hmm. Yes, I suppose some of them are psychic in nature. Like switching your balls to call out your Luxray." Leo and Kurama had followed them in, and the large fox settled on a couch as Leo stayed by Alex. Both he and Percy pet him, and he purred in delight. "I meant what I said. Your fur is gorgeous. I love unique Pokémon."
Alex glanced at his Ninetales. "I can tell…have any others? Like, say, Xerneas?"
The man gave him a grin, then hid his expression behind his long, flamboyant hat brim as he set about making drinks. "Yes…once. A long, long time ago. Before she fell asleep…she granted me eternal life, and we traveled the world together. Then, she left me alone to rot in this tower…"
Alex tried peeking under the man's down-turned hat as his tone changed and he'd lowered his head, to no avail. "Can't you leave?"
The hat shook side to side. "Not anymore. Xerneas deemed my attitude…destructive, and confined me to this prison until I learned my lesson…I've been here ever since…for thousands of years."
Alex nodded, taking the information in, when Jess spoke up. "How old are you, then?"
Percy gave her a look. "I'd expect better manners from someone like you…but if you must know…I was around for the final years that Arceus's last true Holder spent on this plane. I saw him die, I saw his cult crumble, I saw the chaos of the first ages of the Dark Times…and I got a bit too involved in them for Xerneas's tastes. Among others. Thus, the tower. So to answer your question...over ten thousand. Give or take."
"Why have you molded an entire town's beliefs and culture on a video game?" The question came from Alex, and the two men stared each other down for a tense moment before Percy answered.
"Because I was bored…and because after the tyrant that caused Arceus to interfere in the first place was dealt with, there was no culture left. The people of this region lost any kind of connection they had to their past in the flames of war…that is, until the Pokénet was created. The village outside is…more influenced than the rest of the region, and you'll find many of the other village's legends more tied to the Draconids than to any video game. Though I doubt the rest of Norstad really wants or uses the Pokénet. I helped create that, you know. I got the idea from the Old Net."
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"The Old Net?" Jess asked, confused. This time, Alex answered.
"It's what our ancestors had, and what the PokéNet was based on…much of what we know comes from it. Science, technology, culture, there was a ton of information found…but it was never entirely released to the public." Alex stared Percy down again, who was in the middle of fixing drinks for them.
"For good reason." He muttered. "Our ancestors were violent, stupid people. They killed each other, the local fauna, and almost killed the planet, before inhospitable conditions tore their society apart. Things got so bad, our entire race eventually reverted back to living in caves. Until Arceus showed up, anyway."
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"That doesn't mean that knowledge shouldn't be available." Alex growled, crossing his arms.
Percy gave him a look. "Yes yes, the Unovan ideal of free information, speech, etcetera. I've read Professor Aristole's treatises. You know not what you're asking for. There are some things on the Old Net that are best left there. Dead and Forgotten."
"That didn't stop you from using it to warp an entire village's culture." Alex shot back. "Why choose such a violent model, anyways? The rest of the world gets on fine without killing each other these days. Why convince these people to avoid technology and embrace violence?"
Percy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if he'd had this argument a thousand times. "You're just like him…look, all these people knew after they were dumped here on me was what I told them, when I was able to break free of my prison here…if only by a few hundred miles. They were my offspring, and I taught them what I had to, to keep them alive in this region."
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Alex raised a brow. "I suppose you could call that noble. Why do they call you the Fairy King?"
Percy grinned at him. "I may have helped avert a disaster or two…or, at least, armed one of the Heroes of the day to face it. Galar got to survive and thrive, in the end, and all it cost me was Caladbolg. I've seen what Galar has become, the inherent rot in their society is growing, thanks to their power consumption and reliance on technology. One of the many reasons you won't find such things in Norstad. They don't need technology. They don't want it."
Alex rolled his eyes. "We'll just have to disagree on that. Your kinsmen would benefit greatly from it. At the very least, they'd stop dying of disease so often. Or avoid freezing to death."
Percy slid a glass of what looked like orange juice in front of Alex. Jess's drink looked similar, though hers was red on the bottom. "They might, but in time they might also become so high on their own sense of self importance that they get convinced the entire world should share their culture. By force, if necessary. It's happened before. Before the Old Net revived the old gods and knowledge of them, this land was called Hyperborea. I promise, the people of modern Norstad are far better than those 'alpha' personality types preceding them. Technology will only revive that sense of self important and toxic nationalism. It's better off dead, and forgotten."
"Oo! A sunrise! How'd you know?" Jess spoke then, breaking the tension between the boys.
Percy gave her his best knowing smirk. "After a few millennia, you learn how to find a person's favorite drink."
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Alex glanced at his, and sipped from it, blinking once. "A screwdriver?"
Percy nodded, sipping from his own. "Not unlike mine. A sonic screwdriver. Everything's better with a bit of sonic. I had a friend who absolutely loved these."
There was silence as the three enjoyed their drinks, not awkward persay, but more like a pause. Finally, Alex broke it saying, "Why did you tell Pravus where Xerneas is? He could ruin the entire world with eternal life, and you're assuming he won't just take it and run."
Percy put his drink down, and met Alex's gaze. "Like I said, he's the only one who will talk to me anymore. All of my friends are long dead or not speaking to me, and the only new ones I can make think I'm a deity, and are also trapped in here. I need to get out of this tower. He was my only option. I can leave for a few hours, by foot, but that doesn't really help. And I'm eventually forcibly Teleported back. It's quite painful. I'd much rather have a 'hero' like you off retrieving Xerneas for me, but I don't think you understand just how isolated I am up here."
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Alex raised a brow. "Are you saying you'll tell me where Xerneas is? Because I'll gladly go and try to bring her back here. You don't strike me as an evil person. Perhaps Xerneas will feel the same."
Percy looked down at his blue drink for a long time, then nodded. "I'm not the man Xerneas locked in here. It's been thousands of years…the only interaction I have is with my Pokémon, my bank representatives, and people who only call on my expertise when their precious 'transfer system' has an error. You should know that if you help free me, you'll gain quite a few enemies. The people leeching off my fortunes won't appreciate losing access to them."
Alex glanced at Jess, and she agreed, mentally, that he seemed nice enough. It wasn't that hard to believe someone this ancient didn't have access to money, either. The general interior of this prison wasn't spartan in the least, and certainly looked comfortable. There was one thing that still bugged him, though. "I want your word, Percival. That you won't abuse the gift you've been given. Help your people, 'High King'. Bring them into the future, don't just assume they're too violent, or primitive. Like you said, it's been millennia. People change."
"Not as much as you'd think..." Percy said, sighing again. "Fine. You have my word. Get me out of here, and I'll see to it that my people join the rest of you in your technological bliss. Don't say I didn't warn you."
He stood then, and his hands glowed pink as an evil smirk appeared on his noble features. "Let's make you suited to the role of saving Xerneas from the Shadow, 'Hero'."
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"Wai-" Alex didn't get the word out before Percy pointed at his clothes, and they warped as his large frame was covered in pinkish white light, changing in appearance, and feel. The white robe became hardened, bone-like, while the black sections became dark colored chainmail, and they shifted around, covering his vital areas, and leaving the joints protected by the 'chainmail' at the joints.
He stared in disbelief. Not only was his appearance now a fair reconstruction of the 'dragonbone' set he'd gotten for his character back when he'd wasted his time playing games, Percy had left his head uncovered. As he drew out the obvious homage that was his helmet and souvenir from this icy land, he found it shifting in color and feel, to match the rest of the dragonbone. He turned, and saw a long bluish-purple cape as well, the symbol of dragons burned into the back, hanging from his shoulders.
He gave Percy a look as Jess burst into laughter once he donned the helmet. "You can't be serious…I look ridiculous."
Percy raised an eyebrow as he saw the cape, and then shrugged. "You look like suitable 'world-saving' material to me, Hero." He winked at Jess, who burst into another fit of giggles. "Oh? You find his attire funny? Perhaps we should change your appearance too!"
"Don't you da-" But it was too late. Whatever fairy nonsense Percy used worked its magic on his one true love. Her hair turned brown, her clothing became a combination of steel and leather. Her shoes were replaced with steel boots, and she sighed, looking at all the changes. "Seriously? Who am I even supposed to be?"
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Percy grinned. "One sworn to carry the burdens of the 'chosen one'." It was Alex's turn to burst into laughter. Jess just stared at him, not getting the joke. "Don't worry, the locals will think you fit right in. It's not permanent either. By the time you bring Xerneas back, you won't even notice it."
Alex drained the rest of his drink, and nodded at Percy. "How far, exactly, did you personally warp the region's culture as a whole?"
The wealthy man raised a blonde eyebrow. "Oh? Why do you ask?"
Alex smirked. "I have an…idea, should we need the aid of the locals. It might even help put them on the right path to rejoining the rest of civilization. But first, I need to be able to speak their tongue."
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Percy eyed him for a long moment, and walked out from behind the bar, blinking in surprise at their capes as he moved around them. Jess had one as well, crimson, and emblazoned with the symbol of fire types. The leather in her armor was similarly crimson colored, and the whole thing worked nicely. Percy had some fashion sense, at least.
"Oh my…now isn't that interesting…no wonder you two get along so well…" Percy looked up from their capes, and then at Alex.
"What, what is it?" Alex said, eyeing the cape in the classic blurple that represented dragon types hanging from his back.
"These capes are…part of this glamour. They're special. They reflect the type someone is most in tune with…and you two are very strongly tied to Fire and Dragon it seems. Are you of the Draconid clans, Redwood?" Percy said, staring at him intently, but with no fear whatsoever.
"I'm…not sure. My great great grandmother might've been from one of the clans…but the family history isn't something I've ever really looked into."
Percy tutted at him. "You should. Understanding from whence you come can sometimes help you understand where you're going and perhaps even keep you from repeating past familial mistakes. Regardless, the power of Dragons flows within your blood, of that I'm certain. You asked how much I influenced the region? Well…there is a legend…of those who gain or are born with the affinity for Dragon Types. Dovahkiin, is the word they call them. One I'm sure you know the meaning of, if you recognized my influence in the village below. The legends Norstad has for them are different from what you know…but I can share them, and the knowledge of the Dragon Tongue, with a pair like you two."
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"Now as for actually learning our tongue...that will require you two to lower those mental shields of yours. I can share with you my knowledge of the Words, but unless you can use Hyper Voice properly, they won't help much."
Alex stared at him for a long moment. "Wait…Hyper Voice? The Move? Are you telling me that you know how to Shout? Are you telling me that Shouting is even a thing!?" He fought down the excitement. The urge to rush headlong into this absurd scenario that he was definitely here for was all but overpowering. There had to be a catch.
Jess just looked confused. "Shouting? You're a bit soft spoken normally, Alex."
Percy grinned at him. "Nii los ol hi saag, Dovahkiin." Alex took that as a 'yes'.
"It's an…ability that certain dragons from certain media possess…and now that I recall just how many Dragon Types can actually learn Hyper Voice…it seems media is mimicking reality." He said to Jess, still suppressing the excitement. "Share the knowledge, Percy." He lowered his mental defenses then, and he could already feel his lover's disapproval. Tao had warned them to never lower their guard, but now, the two men's minds linked.
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It wasn't the same as his link with Jess, or even his team. It was a minor connection. Brief. Limited. Percy's haughty accent rang in his head. "Oh my...yes...yes, you will do nicely indeed. You were born for this role."
Alex's suspicion rose, as did Jessica's. She had, of course, heard every word. "What do you mean?" He said, warily. The unease remained, and it only grew now that his very being was brushing against Percy's. It was like something about the man was fundamentally opposed to a part of his own core.
"Don't worry about it..." Percy said, "This knowledge will only aid you. I'm sharing my knowledge of Hyper Voice as well. With both of you. You'll be able to use it, but how strong it is will depend entirely upon your ability to master the Move. Prepare yourselves...this is going to hurt."
The pain was, for Alex, instant, and unbearable. He felt Tao's sudden concern, distantly, and he felt his body slump back into the bar stool. His head throbbed, and his ears refused to work as thousands of Words thundered in his skull all at once, each one with their own meaning. Finally, the painful torrent ceased, and one last bit of knowledge came from the strange man.
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The knowledge of Hyper Voice. The sacred art of Shouting. It wasn't all that different to how he drew his psychic power for a Confusion level attack, and he knew that, had he not unlocked it, this knowledge would've eluded him. He also sensed that his years of practice inhaling Leaf smoke had increased his lung capacity. He now knew how to Shout, as did Jess, but he knew his would be stronger. For a time. His size, for once, was beneficial rather than hindering.
His vision swam as his ears started to work again, though it was a long time before he heard more than the throb of his heartbeats. He looked up to see the eyes that snared his soul, full of concern. With a start, he realized their connection had been cut. From his team, as well. He hadn't been so alone since battling N on the Victory Plateau. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in reality, had only been roughly half a year. Slowly, he reconnected with them, assuaging their fears. The shock of the knowledge transfer from Percy had disrupted his mental links to them.
And as he looked at the man again with his psychic sight, he now had an inkling as to why.
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Alex kept his revelations to himself for the moment and stood, meeting Percy's gaze. The hints of his powers had now, in hindsight, seemed so obvious, but Percy's revealed typing now only confirmed what he suspected about himself. Still though, he hesitated. He needed more before he fully accepted what his psychic senses were telling him.
Percy spoke with his mouth this time, their connection was also gone now, and Alex's mental defenses rose once more. "The mighty hero awakens. And how do you feel, Dragonborn?"
It took Alex's ears a second to register that Percy had spoken in the tongue of dragons, the language of Norstad. He understood it perfectly. "I'm...fine..." He managed, and he sensed Jess' concern grow again.
"Alex." She said, shaking him slightly. "Focus. You're speaking their words. Not ours."
He nodded again. His skull was still pounding, but Jess, for her part, seemed far less affected. He felt terrible, and as he groaned softly, he felt a drink being pushed into his hand. He looked up to see Percy, and a refilled Screwdriver.
"Drink." The eccentric man said softly, "It will help with the nausea...though I imagine you'll need a rest before your skull stops pounding."
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The fact that Percy knew how he felt didn't surprise Alex. The two had stared into the other's very core, and found them to be opposites, but not necessarily enemies. As expected of the fairy typed man, Alex's mind had zero effect on his mental state. Apparently the title of Fairy King was literal. Percy was every bit as sly and tricky as advertised, but Alex had sensed a genuine goodness, likely the same Xerneas had, when he'd been given eternal life. It was buried deep after ten millennia of maddening isolation, but it was there. He stood with a grunt, and drained roughly half of the drink. It did help. A little.
"We should head out..." He said, speaking his birth tongue, but still sounding groggy.
Jess looked ready to protest, but Percy cut her off. "I expect you to return with Xerneas, Hero. And tales of adventure, of course."
Alex rolled his eyes. "I have an idea as to what I might need to do…now, where do I find your friend?"
Percy shrugged. "Xerneas does her own thing, and I've been cooped up here too long to know exactly where she is. She does tend to move her tree from time to time. Here's my advice, Dragonblood. Life needs life to live. Where you find an abundance of it, you'll likely find her. Oh, and look for an Ash Tree. She prefers that species for some reason."
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Alex nodded again, then looked at Jess. He could tell she was already planning to mock him for the obvious wish-fulfillment he was about to enjoy, now that she knew he was fine, but he honestly didn't care. How often did one get a chance to fill such legendary boots? To literally step into a story like this? It was unheard of. But, if he was honest, he genuinely hoped it was real, and not some fever dream caused by leaving Tao's realm.
"Ready to go?" He asked Jess as he recalled Leo into his ball. His loyal feline had also been silently mocking his appearance. The rest of his team had joined in, and found it quite amusing, once the link was re-established. He'd spent much of his time in the Swamp playing the very game that Percy had based his town and this armor on, so they had a second-hand grasp of the situation, and how outlandish it was.
"Yes…just don't get too distracted, 'hero'. We have a mission to fulfill." She sighed, and shook her head at him. She looked just as lovely as a brunette, but he did admittedly miss the red.
He headed towards the door, striding with confidence as he straightened his posture and let his tone even out. He could pretend to be whole, for the moment. If only for her sake. "Oh, I know…but I'm fully intending to use this to our advantage in that regard. Fare well Percival. We shall return soon!"
The man simply laughed. "As you say. Go! Save the world, Dragonborn." He shook his head as he watched them depart, and looked at Kurama. "You were right once again, my friend. A descendant of the Dragon Clans, and a Psychic. That…is a bad combination to be enemies with."
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The blue fox had been lounging on one of the white leather chairs in the posh room as the humans drank and chattered. "Of course I was right." He said, his telepathic voice filling the room. "My premonitions always come to pass. You, of all humans, should know that."
Percy joined him on the couch, and petted his fur again. He gestured to the brushes he used on the tails, and they floated over, grooming the lovely blue fur, mussed from the earlier battle. "I'm surprised you let the Luxray win."
The fox snorted. "I did not. He caught me by surprise. But we will Battle again, that much I know."
His owner raised a brow. "Oh? Another vision? Does that mean our would-be Heroes will be victorious?"
The fox smirked slyly. "Perhaps. I never said his Human would be using him." The fox yawned, drifting slowly to sleep. "Truthfully, the next series of events is…muddled. Anything could happen."
Percy sighed, still brushing his fox. "I don't care anymore…I just want out of this damned prison." He gestured at the wall then, and it lifted, revealing the ceaseless storm outside. He longed for lovelier vistas. Like Alola. Oh, how he'd missed the sun.
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Somewhere over the Jhötunn Forest - Norstad Region
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Caleb Pravus tapped his pointer finger in mild irritation. "Anything?"
"No sir!" One of the ship's pilots said immediately. No doubt spurred by his new blackened eye. "This forest appears to have no trace of the Fairy Aura either."
Pravus swore, and the entire bridge of the ship held its breath. Upon leaving the strange half-breed's tower, their Prophet had begun swinging at anyone who was in reach. Naturally, that had meant the entire bridge crew. They all had fresh bruises, reminding them of their leader's ruthless power. None dared speak against him, though. That would ensure their families disappeared. Quietly. Without a trace. They were expected to take his brutality, and smile. For the glory of Arceus and his Prophet.
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"Enough of this." Pravus snarled, standing, and moving to the front window. He scanned the area below himself. A massive forest, surrounding a massive mountain that was separated from the rest of the region by an equally massive river.
They had checked the forest south of this one as well, and extracted information from the locals, who had been resistant, at first, until his Darkrai made itself known. They had said that if anyone knew where the 'rainbow hart' was, it would be the Jhötunn miners who hunted these woods, fished these rivers, and mined this solitary peak that loomed over the area. He was getting sick of mountains, and thus far, the woods were devoid of human life.
"Is the analysis of the culture complete?" He waited to a count of five before snapping his fingers.
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One of the bridge techs spoke up nervously. "Yes, my Prophet. It seems to be a blend of the lore you'd expected, and mythology from some ancient culture called the 'Norse'."
"And? Is integration possible?" Pravus turned his head slightly to glance at the technician.
He stood up straighter, and Pravus decided to hold off on beating him. "Unlikely, sir. The people of this region are uneducated, isolated, and wholly devoted to these entities they believe walk among them as friends, guardians, and…even lovers, apparently. It would take a full-scale Inquisition to establish a useful foothold. Given the lack of available resources and infrastructure, it wouldn't be worth our time."
The Prophet nodded, returning his gaze forward, and the tension bled from the bridge. Slightly. "Infiltration it is, then. Who or what are these barbarians most likely to open up to?"
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He heard the blonde-haired man once more examining his computer, and allowed him a minute to gather more information. One minute stretched to two. Then three. He sighed.
"U-uh…let's see…the patriarchal figure of their beliefs is someone by the name of…Woden, Odin, or the Allfather. The titles are interchangeable. It says here he has an eye-patch, a spear, and is flanked by all manner of beasts." The tech spoke hurriedly, knowing he'd pushed the Prophet's patience. The information they'd extracted had been high in quantity, but details had been scarce.
Pravus sighed once more, and shook his head. "No. I'm not limiting my vision, and spears are so…easily broken."
There was more clacking of keys on the board, before the tech spoke again. "Here's something. A figure by the name of Shor. Also known as Thor. The son of Woden. It says he's clad in heavy armor, wields a hammer that sparks with lightning, and is regarded as the ultimate warrior-hero. Something the locals greatly approve of. He's even known to, supposedly, wander from village to village seeking a worthy battle. He's the 'favored deity' of the peasants, and a few even see him as a King…or something. It's not clear...but there's mention of some sort of 'great hall'."
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The Prophet looked down at the woods again, and sighed. "Fine. It will do. Load the Kecleo data." He turned to the pilot. "Set a course for the other forest. Try to find our people, and stay unnoticed. I don't want those damned birds taking another ship down."
He pulled up his PokéPad, and transferred the data on his newest persona. The macho fire-and-blood type wasn't really his thing, but this was Norstad. It was inevitable. So be it. The Articuno riders no doubt knew exactly where his quarry was, and for all their power, they were still barbarians. They'd fall over themselves to let the 'mighty Shor' speak with the beast. They might even let him drag it away without a fuss.
For the first time since arriving in the frozen hellhole that was Norstad, Pravus allowed a smirk. It quickly faded as he heard the voice of his lieutenant. "My Prophet, we've received a comm from the Dominus. It was text only, and marked for your eyes alone."
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"Send it." Pravus waited patiently as this new message made its way to his personal pad. He turned as he read it, and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the pad tighter. A black aura surrounded his body, and the feeling of imminent death permeated the bridge. For all who were not him, all they could feel was the ever-growing, creeping terror, a chill on their very souls that indicated their mortal lives were about to be snuffed out.
Very rarely had he gotten so angry. Very rarely had anyone survived seeing him in such a state, but this time was different. He needed these pawns. Fornia was on the other side of the planet, and reinforcements were not coming. He exhaled slowly, and the cloud of black miasma that crept from his mouth floated harmlessly into the air, dissipating.
"So…Unova's Champion continues to nip at my heels…and now Kalos' newest has joined with him as well, and has befriended the riders…Samson…" The man in question, his lieutenant, still recovering from the undiluted fear he'd felt, blinked twice before answering.
"Y-yes, my Prophet?" He even threw up a shivering salute, fist to heart.
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Pravus grinned, only his eyes now radiated that terrifying color, but it was enough. "Send the word to Headquarters…kill the Unovan nuisance. I care not how. I am through being lenient…" He turned again, glaring out the window as his will was done.
He would avoid the intrepid Trainer, for now. This was a mission for stealth, and Unova's newest 'hero' had an annoying tendency to interrupt his plans. None of his agents in the Swamp had reported back. Bradley, the only one to make headway with the Sage, had vanished, and the signal from Ghetsis' frigate was offline, and had been for days now. He had been the one in charge of making sure Redwood stayed occupied and frustrated. Once more, the aged criminal had failed. If he wasn't dead yet, he soon would be, but his Shadow Triad minions would continue to be useful. Upon saving their beloved master from crippling madness evidently brought on by a combination of age and losing to not one but two teenagers, the shadow beings had been awed by the Prophet, and he had shared with them the identity of his true patron. Despite the return of Ghetsis' competence, more or less, the Triad's loyalties had shifted to a man who was not unlike them, and had much bigger, and likely more successful, goals.
Few Pokémon Trainers had been so irritating in so short a time, but that was why he had assassination squads, and Doctor Ein, to keep the kids with potential from ever becoming Trainers. His death squad was composed of Trainers who had traveled through each of the Fornian satellite states, beaten their gyms, earned their badges, and trained their teams. They would eliminate the pest posthaste. But before he could savor Redwood's head on a plate, he had to play dress-up. Pravus left the bridge then, eyes returning to normal, as he descended and strapped on the Kecleon Belt.
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It modified his appearance in looks and feel. Within moments, he was clad in iron and leather armor that hid his face well under a full Skiddo horned gray helmet, and a square-headed hammer appeared on his waist, covering over the black baton he used on especially deserving subordinates. He grabbed it, testing it out, and it sparked as he swung it. Good enough, he supposed. He sat then, and waited patiently as the stealthed ship shot over the mountains, back towards the 'sacred woods' the fliers evidently defended.
All he had to do was beat Redwood to the prize he had no doubt the greedy Trainer also sought. Once he had the Life Pokémon, he could easily depart, and nothing the trapped 'Fairy King' could do could keep him from departing with his prize. There were things to do back home, and Fornia would provide a sufficient barrier from any more Redwood interference.
In truth, he was surprised there was interference at all. Gilroy Redwood had been flagged as a potential enemy, and any relatives of his that were found to have serious potential had been labeled 'incompetent' as Trainers years ago. The only one to receive such a label had been this very boy. He had no idea how he'd obtained a Trainer ID anyways, but it didn't matter now. The order had been given. There was only one punishment fit for those who meddled with the Prophet's affairs.