I breathed out, nervously.
Drake and I had trained until the wee hours of the morning. While he’d tried to bring his type energy manipulation up to par with a determination that was nothing short of striking, I’d done research.
Rank one, two, and three battles were not typically recorded, but this was more a formality than a reality. Really, there were recordings if you knew where to look, if you were willing to put the ground work in. Keyed searches had led me to forums full of people that were specifically fans of Leaders basically manhandling new trainers while trying not to discourage them. Interestingly, it seemed that, in a general sense, fighting weaker trainers was considered fantastic control exercise, and Leaders excelled at knowing exactly when to push someone or when their opponent had had enough. The forum I’d found in particular was one that picked apart Leaders dealing with rank one through three trainers, debating their styles and tactical decisions and why they passed a specific trainer.
Some of those videos were, obviously, Fantina. From the general sense I got from the boards, most people were very nervous of the Ghost-type Leader, for reasons both obvious and not so. Of course, anyone who uses Ghost type Pokemon seemed to have a feeling of wariness around them, but Fantina in particular was one that was considered frightening by four and below, and a serious threat by five and above.
The fact of the matter was that Ghosts could outright ignore most techniques and attacks. It was exceedingly hard to hit something that, for the most part, didn’t get hit if it didn’t want to. Combine that with the relative rarity of Dark-types and the wariness people seemed to hold towards Dark moves in general left few options. The only widely accepted optimal ways of dealing with a Ghost were to have a Ghost of your own, or have a Normal on your team that had moves that could land. Anyone else had to resort to being faster and tougher, while trying to wear the Ghost-type down.
With Drake being Dark-type by nature, that wasn’t a problem I had to deal with. The Dark energy would directly disrupt and unravel its Ghost counterpart, as we’d seen during the long fight from Vinewood. In addition, Drake could tank a lot of Ghost attacks, with the Ghost TE unraveling the moment it struck his Dark-infused aura. If he could totally infuse his aura with Dark energy, he might even be able to straight up ignore Ghost type attacks, as they completely fell apart before they could do damage.
“What do you think?” I asked him, turning from my notes to where he sat to one side. “Do you think you can keep the defense up for the entire fight?” Drake looked uncertain for a moment, then breathed and gave me an uncertain shrug, underlined by a determined expression. “So, as long as you can, then?” He nodded, and I hummed.
We were still early in developing the technique. Drake still struggled with keeping it up in the long term…
“We can’t let this become a battle of endurance, we’ll lose that.” Drake looked somewhat offended at that, and I held up my hands. “Look, you can’t keep it going beyond a certain point. We have to account for the fact that the moment you’re out there and fighting, we’re on a strict time limit. Nothing we can do about that.”
Drake huffed indignantly, his ears flicking back, but he took the point. Much as he didn’t want to accept it, the moment he was out there and fighting at full strength, he only had so much tank to draw from. At a certain point he just wouldn’t be able to generate the type energy for a defense, and getting bursts big enough for attacks wouldn’t hold out much farther than that. I didn’t envision that we’d be able to endure our way through longer term fights with higher-level techniques for quite a while.
We were using advanced techniques before we were technically supposed to, with these becoming important after rank four. However, I sensed that the moment Drake had a look at the wider world, he wasn’t giving up on reaching far beyond what he was supposed to be able to touch. For my part and despite myself, I found that I agreed with him- why would we wait to reach for loftier heights, if we could manage it? Why would we hold ourselves back, when we had a glimpse of how large the wider world was?
But that all came with a cost. Limited time, limited effort, limited energy, and the more advanced a technique we utilized, the less time we would have to do so. Drake just simply didn’t have the reserves to burn, or the sustain to work with- not yet.
I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Just a couple of hours until the Gym battle, and I was nervous as all hell, looking down the barrel of my first official battle with an actual figure in the League. I didn’t think they’d take my affiliateship if I lost to her, but it was still a nerve-wracking prospect.
“I guess the strategy is just that… we have to get through them as fast as possible, and be efficient as possible about expenditure of energy.” I rubbed my face. Six hours of sleep for the both of us would have to be enough. “From what I’ve seen, she uses two to three Pokemon for the rank one battles, typically one or two one-ranks and then, potentially, a rank two as the ace.”
Pokemon battle strats and stacks gave me something of a headache, but I’d hashed it out pretty quickly between Blake’s explanations and my own research. Leader teams tended to have an ‘ace’ or a ‘keystone’, a Pokemon that was somewhat stronger than the rest of the team. Some Leaders used them as the core of their team-based strategy, making them the ‘keystone’- knocking out the keystone turned a Gym battle from a fight into a mop-up, as the Pokemon meant to support the keystone weren’t as effective without it.
Fantina, however, seemed not to use the keystone strategy, favouring an ace approach. Decently strong Pokemon for their rank, followed by a Pokemon that was a fair bit stronger, typically sent out at the end. The idea behind it seemed to be as a last-minute test, to put the pressure on a trainer and their team when they were already somewhat tired after having to fight the Pokemon before the ace. This led to trainers playing longer, more strategic games, conserving their best for the ace and trying to weigh expending energy and resources on the earlier Pokemon with saving them to use against the ace. Which, now that I was thinking about it, might be the entire point of the ace.
Regardless, we had to be careful. My guess was that Fantina would use two Pokemon against Drake, a normal rank one and an ace, to make it a more fair test against my single-Pokemon team. This meant that the first Pokemon was one that we’d have to knock out as quickly and as efficiently as possible, preserving as much TE as we could for the real fight against her ace.
I sighed, then stood up and swept all the paper notes into my backpack. Drake shook the pins and needles out, then jumped down from the desk to the floor, following me as I walked out of the Gym’s affiliate computer lab. We stepped back into the training area, where I saw Blake engaged against another trainer.
The girl across from him had battled with Drake once or twice, in our attempts to get the feel and rhythm of a real, official match. In those, her Pokemon had run circles around us- unsurprising, given that she was a rank six trainer. Here, though, against Blake…
Jive danced through arcs of water with ease. The poliwrath that was his opponent flew across the arena, never in one place for longer than a moment. Every blow was emphasized and augmented with one of water, punches with jets and sweeping strikes with waves or blades of water, all of which Jive snaked between with a frightening sort of ease. Especially frightening when I looked a little closer and realized that, past the blue of Water, none of Jive’s limbs had the tell-tale white glow of Normal. This was raw speed and agility alone.
But the show couldn’t last forever. The poliwrath misjudged a blow, overextending themselves and stumbling- just a moment, the slightest hiccup in their patterns, something that I barely noticed. Jive, however, had seen it perfectly well, even through the layers of water speeding towards and around him. In an instant, he was at the Water-type’s side, his opponent’s eyes widening as they turned- and he tapped them on the side with a leg, tongue poked out.
Instantly, the poliwrath slumped, the energy going out of what attacks still hung in the air and the water splashing to the practice arena’s floor. As it drained away through a series of grills, they nodded respectfully to Jive, even as their trainer shook her head.
“Damn! I’d really thought we had you that time.”
“No worries.” Blake was smiling, walking across the arena and offering her his hand, which she took with a huff. “Jive’s had something to prove, I think, that’s all.”
“Ah, well, we’ll get you two eventually. Just you wait.”
Blake bounced on his heels a bit, settling into an easy grin. “We’ll look forward to it!”
She nodded in return and walked off, speaking in low tones to her Pokemon, who was looking somewhat put-out. Blake breathed out, then looked over the arena. His eyes crossed mine, and he smiled and waved me over.
“Cam! Come for one final look before your match?”
I shrugged. “Not sure. I feel like there’s things I haven’t thought of, just sort of a psychological itch, you know?”
He nodded. “I understand that. I felt like that for a while, every time I faced a Gym or had a serious battle. The worry that I’ve missed something, that I’ve not planned for something…” A shake of his head. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve spent the entire week training and planning, you have to have faith that anything you’ll see in that battle is something that you’ve planned for or something you’ll be able to deal with as it comes.”
“It’s just- you know. It’s… different from my previous battles.” I shrugged, picking at my sleeve. “When it was serious, before now… I wouldn’t call it life or death, but it would’ve been exceedingly dangerous if I’d lost. And the matches I’ve had here were training against people that were ranks above me, trainers that could win against us pretty handily if they actually shot for it, and weren’t because they were teaching us.”
He nodded, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me over to the stadium benches. I sat down and leaned forwards, resting my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands as Blake plopped himself down next to me. Jive followed at a leisurely pace, snaking his way up and into Blake’s lap, causing his trainer to grin and begin running his fingers through the ferret’’s fur.
“It’s a matter of experience. Gym battles will always feel different than getting into a tussle with another trainer or a wild Pokemon, because it feels like you have more on the line.” He leaned back a little, letting out a little hum. “I think it’s the attention. Whether you acknowledge it consciously or not, there’s going to be attention on the match, even if it’s only a few spectators in the crowd rather than an actual camera. Makes the thing feel weightier, like it means something more than just a battle against a trainer.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Drake settled in next to me, then wiggled his way into my lap like Jive had to Blake. I wasn’t particularly hesitant about giving him as much attention, as well. “I think it’s also the nature of a Gym Leader, you know? They’re… official. Recognized by the League. They’re something more than just a trainer.”
He shrugged. “Might be part of it. They’re recognized by the League as someone extremely strong and capable, it’s impossible to ignore that as someone that’s going to face them, even if you intellectually know that they’ll be limiting themselves to a specific level. It’s hard to dismiss the fact that, if they really wanted, they could flatten you and there’s not really all that much you could do about it.” His fingers paused in Jive’s fur, causing the ferret to chirp curiously. “Not something I’ve really thought about in a while.”
“What? So confident that you don’t think that you have to worry about Leaders anymore?” I teased. He grinned.
“Yeah, hardly. I know for a fact that there’s plenty of Leaders out there that could kick me around if they really wanted to.” He raised an eyebrow. “Feeling better?”
I reflected on myself for a moment, and nodded. “Yeah. A bit.”
“Too much worry is senseless. Too little is reckless.”
“What self-help book did you get that one out of?”
“Helping the You That Might Be You, Ardelf Midlin.” I gave him an odd look, and he shrugged. “Boredom and a lack of stimulus leads to interesting bedfellows, far as reading goes. And every once in a while, there’s at least something useful to be gained from it.”
We settled into a comfortable silence for a few moments. He rummaged around in his pack, producing a brush and beginning to work on Jive’s fur, where it had been ruffled from his match with the poliwrath. Jive seemed well pleased by it, settling deeper in and producing a constant noise that was like a deeper purr occasionally interrupted by a soft chirp. It was easy and quiet, despite the noise of the Pokemon training around us, and I realized that I’d needed something like this.
Working all night hadn’t, in fact, been very good for my mental state. Instead, it had frazzled me somewhat, left me a worried mess thinking constantly about things that might happen or go wrong in the process of the match. So stressed out about what might be that I could barely focus on what we could do now. A break from that anxiety let it calm, let me think clearly.
“Thank you.” I said at length. Blake looked up in surprise, then nodded.
“Not a problem. Everybody’s a ball of nerves before any Gym battle, especially their first- don’t believe anybody that tells you that they weren’t.” He paused for a moment, gently working the brush at a small knot in Jive’s fur. “So. How much longer?”
“I'm scheduled for noon, so…” I checked my Pokewatch. “Thirty minutes.”
A nod. “No big rush, then. I’d say show up about five minutes before, they’ll put you in a waiting room, then bring you out when it’s time. No big showmanship stuff until you start getting past your fourth badge, then you’ll be in the… roughly twenty percent that don’t quit? For better or for worse, that’s when Leaders start thinking of you as really worth their attention, particularly if you’ve built up a reputation by then.”
“So… nothing to really worry about, here? Always feel somewhat nervous when I’m not sure what’s expected of me.”
“Nope. You show up at the reception desk, they lead you to the prep room, and then they bring you out when the Leader’s ready for you. Challenger always comes out second. Beyond that, it’s like any other Pokemon battle, though… piece of advice?” I nodded eagerly. “Pull out all the stops. A lot of people forget that the Gym battles are about testing trainers and their partners in more ways than just their ability to punch harder or take a hit better. They’re meant to be chances for both trainer and Pokemon to shine, take one more step towards the championship tournaments. It’s…”
He paused for a moment, tasting the words, seeming to be attempting to figure out how to put something. Eventually, he sighed.
“It’s- not easy to sum up, as a concept. But, basically, they want to see what you can do, more than actually beat them- though they’ll give you a badge if you do that, too. Fantina probably won’t fight you herself, you’ll most likely be matched against a Gym trainer for your first three. Just show them what the two of you have been practicing, and you’ve got this easy.”
“Well… if you say so.”
Made sense that the Leader themselves wouldn’t be fighting somebody new. Less intimidating for people who didn’t have a lot of experience, and were nervous about their first few Gym matches. I doubted that Fantina had time for more than the actually significant matches.
“You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
I nodded. Honestly, I found it was easy to. Blake had a sort of charisma about him, one even I wasn’t immune to. He was easygoing and radiated experience and ability, despite being… What, mid to late twenties? He just seemed to know what he was doing, and what he was about, and I felt like that added weight to what he said. It made me appreciate how he could just roll insight off the top of his head like that.
We spent some time in silence, as I watched the time tick down. I made sure to only check my watch every fourth time I wanted to- checking it too often was just anxiety-inducing, watching the minutes pass. Blake’d helped me break out of a spiral of sorts, and now it was up to me to keep myself out of it.
“About time, yeah?”
I twitched, checking my watch again. About eight minutes to noon.
“Yeah. Three minutes to get there is more than enough.”
I tapped Drake’s back, and the hyena looked up at me, eyes wide alert. He’d been running on high since we got up this morning, buzzing with a quiet, restrained energy. In his gaze, I caught eagerness and determination, and I smiled to see it. He leaped down to the floor from my lap. I nodded to Blake, who waved me off.
“I’ll be in the stands, right there, so don’t worry about it, yeah? If you get nervous, just pretend that I’m just watching you in another practice bought.”
I swallowed and nodded, then walked out of the training arena and into the hall. I wove through the cold stone interior of the Gym towards the exit of the more private sections. I hesitated only briefly at the final doors, before pushing them open and stepping out into the entry room.
The place hadn’t changed from the last time I’d been here, not that I’d expected it to. The trainers were different, and there were perhaps a few more of them hanging around, but there weren’t any other changes. The backlit stained glass still provided the majority of the light, and the same misdreavus was making lazy figure eights over the receptionist’s head. I noted that it was the same guy who’d greeted me when I’d first come in, which made it a little easier to approach him. No anxiety about having to explain myself somehow. He caught sight of me as I approached the desk and gave me a small smile.
“Ah, there you are. Was a little worried that nerves got to you.”
I tilted my head a little. “Does that happen often?”
He shrugged. “Occasionally. First time challengers sometimes get overwhelmed, particularly kids who haven’t done a Gym challenge before. They come in the next day and reschedule, typically. Though at least the trainers that are looking for a battle usually have the wherewithal to actually reschedule their matches ahead of time, if their nerves get to them.” He tapped some keys on the keyboard in front of him. “Glad to see that you didn’t let it get to you. First time’s the hardest- after this, it’s a lot easier. You know what to expect, I suppose.” A little thermal printer spat out a sheet of paper, and he tore it off, handing it to me. On it was a number- fifty four, and a little barcode. “Take this, and follow me, please.”
He stepped back from the PC and lifted up a section of the desk, putting it back down behind him. He led me to one side of the desk, where there was a door that was quite a bit ornate. It looked to be made of iron-bound and varnished wood, a rich brown and covered in complex carvings. I paused, staring at it, and he caught my look and smiled.
“Yeah, this door’s ancient, been here since the city was settled about… two thousand odd years ago? It had a long and storied history, ended up in the predecessor to the modern Gym, and we chose not to take it out. A Ghost-type Gym has to have a regard for history, it’s baked into the Type itself.”
He pushed the door open, the hinges giving a creak that I suspected was more for effect than anything. The hallway behind it was lit by torches that burned with blue flame, sending dim and flickering light across the stone. The receptionist led me down it, stopping at another iron bound door someway down from the first. The hall led down farther, flickering torchlight revealing a room farther down that was lit by huge braziers on stone pillars.
“We’re not going down there?” I asked, and his gaze followed where I pointed.
“No, not for a rank one. If you were a rank four, then that would be the route you’d take.”
“Ah.”
Would asking why indicate that I was ignorant of the meaning behind it? I could make an educated guess, of course. Based on how much significance seemed to be heaped on the fourth badge, I imagined that it was something of a rite of passage, the final step for many in their journey and the first step into the larger world for the rest. I stared down the passage towards the end, to where I could see a few trainers standing in the dim shadows cast by the stone pillars and the blue flame. One day, when I had more than four badges, maybe I could come back here and challenge the Gym the proper way. For now…
We walked through the door, and instantly the environment changed. Instead of foreboding stone and dim light, it was a space that was brighter and more welcoming. There were a few shelves filled with books to one side, and the center of the room was filled with carved wooden benches with cushions on them. A few trainers, a mix that was mostly of the younger variety, filled the place with their Pokemon, sitting on the floor on the benches and waiting. A few looked up as the door opened, then went back to what they were doing. On the opposite side of the room was another ironbound door, and above it, a display that currently read ‘fifty-two’. I imagined that the trainers here were ones that got here early, either because they were anxious about it or to have time to prepare before the match itself. I’d spent mine in the computer lab, but I didn’t imagine they’d all have the luxury of an affiliateship.
I settled on one of the benches, giving the display another glance, though the number hadn’t changed in the few seconds that I hadn’t been looking at it. None of the trainers around me afforded me more than a glance, mostly focused on their own Pokemon or their preparation for their matches. Everyone here was at most a rank three, a minimum of a technical rank zero. I leaned towards Drake, who’d hopped up onto the bench next to me.
“Play a little game while we wait?” He gave me a curious look. “Guess what rank some of these trainers are. For example-”
I nodded towards one that was sitting in the corner. A Bellossum was dancing in his lap, and he had the smallest smile as it took his finger in its hands. As we watched, he led the little Pokemon through the steps of a dance, his hand serving as their dance partner.
“What do you think, rank wise?” This time, the look he gave me was odd. I shrugged. “I don’t know. Better than just… sitting here and thinking about the battle, and maybe it gives us practice in guessing somebody’s strength.”
Drake nodded in consideration, turning a measuring gaze on the kid. His eyes traced up and down him, stopping at a couple points, before looking back at me. His paw patted the bench we were sitting on twice.
“Two, huh?” I squinted at him, trying to guess what had led Drake to that conclusion.
We passed the we had like that, trying to guess the ranking of various trainers. Some wore their one or two badges openly on their lapels or bags, others weren’t so easy to guess. Between the two of us, we guessed that the ones with more Pokemon that didn’t have badges out were probably greater than one, though we couldn’t guess what specifically.
It was interesting to get a slice of trainer life in this room. With most of the trainers here being kids of varying ages, I felt like I was starting to get an idea what a trainer just starting out looked like. Interestingly, I noted that the ones that I identified as just kids on the training circuit and most likely taking challenges rather than battles were identifiable just at a glance. To a number, they were typically cleaner, had clothing that was less adapted to long journeys and rough terrain. Designer clothes for the more wealthy kids, and just normal streetwear for the rest. No real scuffing or damage, either, and none of the signs of the road.
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There were one or two that stood out from the crowd, though. There were those who were older, and then there were the kids that dressed like them: rugged and durable, adapted to traveling. I guessed that the couple of adults in the room were trainers that had gotten a late start, maybe getting to a point in their career, or lack of one, where they wanted to do something else. They were dressed in a fashion similar to mine, just inexpensive but durable clothing. Interestingly, theirs didn’t seem to be surplus as mine was- instead, they were somewhat themed.
One had yellow scattered throughout his clothing, lightning bolt motifs here and there, especially about the shoes. There was a guitar case at his feet, and an electric guitar in his hands, which he was strumming and playing with. All in all, it gave the impression of a rockerboy with an electric theme… wasn’t there a type of trainer in Emerald that was a guitar player? Specialized in Electric types. I supposed that this was the real life example of it, then.
The other was more of a flowing theme- it was hard to describe it. There was a strange mix of frills and staunchness about his clothing. He didn’t have a Pokemon out, just the Pokeballs at his waist, which were all painted with shades of blue. My eyes flicked from the Pokeballs to the frills, and I nodded as I thought I saw what the theme was hinting towards. If I had to stake a guess, I would say that they were a Water specialist of some kind, and I would bet money that they had a vaporeon on their team. Would only make sense with the frills and everything. Were the frills a permanent part of his outfit, or were they a costume portion that he took off between Gym battles? Odd that somebody would go to that much effort for rank one through three matches.
The display called fifty-three, and I squirmed in my seat, checking my Pokewatch. Three minutes until noon. Would they call me the moment it ticked over, or was it not tied so strictly to time? I supposed it depended on the individual Gym trainer that ended up being assigned to me. Come to think of it, how did that work behind the scenes? Did Gym trainers select who they fought, or were they assigned matches by the Gym staff?
Not that it really mattered, in any significant sense. It wasn’t like I knew any of the Gym trainers. The most I could be said to know was Fantina herself, in a passing sort of sense, and it would be irrelevant because I wouldn’t be fighting her.
There was a buzzing noise, and I looked up at the display, which now read fifty four. I took a shaky breath, twitching as Drake pressed himself to my side. I smiled at the poochyena, then stood up and walked towards the door, Drake following in my footsteps. Unlike the entrance to the stone hallway, this door was well oiled, and opened without complaint. Behind it was another stone passageway, this one lit by lights recessed into the ceiling rather than torches. Farther down, the hallway branched, and there were displays mounted at the ceiling level that displayed numbers. I found one labeled fifty four, which directed me to arena five. Simple enough.
As I walked, following the signage towards the arena, I started controlling my breathing. Slow breaths, in through the mouth and hold, then out through the nose. I could feel my heart trying to pick up, responding to my anxiety and the rapidly approaching battle, but I couldn’t let adrenaline or jitters get in the way. I owed Drake more than letting my nerves get to me in our first real Gym battle: even if nothing material was on the line, here, I felt like there was still something at stake.
Finally, we came to a door with a large five carved in it. There was another small display just outside of it, with a small barcode scanner beneath it, reading fifty four and showing a red bar. I rummaged around in my pockets and brought out the printed piece of paper, grimacing as I realized that it had somehow already gotten wrinkled from its short time in my pocket. I waved the barcode printed on it at the reader, which beeped, the red swapping to green and the door unlocking with a quiet click. I took another deep breath, exchanging a glance with Drake, and pushed it open. There was another short tunnel behind it, and I could see the light at the end. As we stepped out of the tunnel, I shaded my eyes for a moment from the bright light and looked around.
The arena was about the size of one of the painted out sections of the practice arena, plus some space at the sides for stands. The arena itself was in the center of the space, and a medichan stood off to one side of the painted lines. I vaguely remembered raised platforms where the battling trainers could be lifted to see the entire battlefield, but there wasn’t anything like that here, just lines on stonework and an obvious box where the trainer was meant to stand.
The stands weren’t empty, having a scattering of spectators that were more playing with their Pokemon or looking at various devices rather than watching for me to enter. From what I’d seen from the Gym and my research, while higher rank Gym challenges actually sold tickets and drew crowds, lower rank battles were free to encourage the attendance of some kind of an audience. It was the job of some people to attend matches, recording battle information for the League, and they used these rank one battles to establish a baseline for a trainer.
The Psychic type standing to one side of the field took one look at Drake, and I could see the grimace cross their expression. I got why: their job was to erect a barrier around the arena in order to protect the audience, a barrier made of Psychic energy. Dark would disrupt it, even if the barrier wasn’t the intended target of the move, meaning that it would be that much more difficult to maintain it. I gave the Pokemon an apologetic smile, and they acknowledged it by shrugging.
“CHALLENGER, STEP TO YOUR BOX”
I winced at the voice, and reflected that I should’ve brought earplugs or something. At least this wasn’t a higher rank match with an actual announcer, that would’ve been a real pain. Drake and I stepped forwards, a few people in the audience looking up from their devices to take my measure. I felt uncomfortable at the attention of people, but tried to brush it off as best as I could- this wasn’t the time for my stage fright to rear up, not when it was so important that my head be in the game.
Drake and I stepped forwards to the box, standing side by side. Was there a specific etiquette for trainers that tended to keep their Pokemon outside of the Pokeball? Having a Pokemon inside one had to be easy enough, you just sent them out when the signal went off, but with Drake outside of his… did he just walk forwards when the time came? I shook my head; this wasn’t something I should be worrying about. We’d do what we did, and if it was wrong, we’d deal with it. Just my anxiety trying to find a foothold.
“GYM TRAINER, STEP TO YOUR BOX”
I breathed in and out, then looked across the space to see my challenger- my breath caught in my throat, eyes widening. From the sides, I could hear the whispers from the stands, people suddenly paying more attention than before.
Across the arena, Fantina walked across the stone and to the Gym trainer’s outlined box. There was a sort of ethereal grace to her, now that I was seeing her without the filter of a stressful situation, and she seemed to almost drift across the floor. I supposed that it made sense, given her type specialization. Still… she smiled.
“I can see you’re surprised. Pardonnez l'intrusion, but- bad habits, you see. I wish to take your measure myself, as it were. You could say that you intrigued me. I spoke to the Rangers that were in Vinewood, and they told me of a trainer and a poochyena, and the way they told it, you’d been modest. Perhaps nine or ten Ghost-types, followed by a wild Gengar, and running straight from battle to battle?” She narrowed her eyes, and I felt pinned to the spot by something behind that gaze. “Forgive me, but I could not resist.”
She waved a hand, and a person- a trainer, by the Pokeballs attached to their thighs, and a Gym trainer by their black and purple uniform- stepped up to a side box. She cleared her throat, then spoke loudly, enunciating the words.
“This will be an official Gym challenge! Standard League rules apply, with modification. As the challenger has only one Pokemon, switching will not be allowed. This will be a one on three battle.”
Three!? I swore under my breath, a flicker of nervousness crossing Drake’s muzzle. A moment later, however, he raised his head higher, determination burning behind his gaze even brighter than before. I clenched my fists and made myself stand straight.
“Fighting will continue until all the Pokemon of one or both trainers are unable to battle. Do you both understand the rules as they’ve been laid out?”
“Oui.”
Fantina spoke with an easy smile on her face that didn’t match the intensity in her gaze. I swallowed, trying to push down my nervousness in the face of such intense scrutiny, both from her and from the audience.
“Yes, I understand.”
“Excellent. Trainers, send out your first Pokemon.”
I nodded, crouching down next to Drake, who turned his head to face me. I mulled over any combination of words, tasting the sounds on my tongue. What could I say? We were facing a lot more than we’d been preparing for, and I felt like I’d come around a bend in a river expecting calm and slow, and found myself suddenly in a rapid. I breathed in and out again.
“Do your best, alright? No one can fault us for that” I paused. “I believe in you. Okay?”
Drake stared at me, then looked away and nodded. I patted his back, and he stepped forwards and into the arena, while I stood up. Across the space, Fantina had answered by lobbing a Pokeball into her half of the arena. As I watched, it burst open with that universally recognizable sound, and a red beam of light that coalesced into a-
My hands clenched into fists and I resisted the urge to swear again. The pointed ears, the jagged lightning-like tail, the yellow and black colour scheme- a mimikyu. Ghost and Fairy, the worst possible matchup for Drake in the first round. One of the only Ghost/Fairy hybrid types there was, and it had to be sent out against us.
“Drake.” His ear twitched. “Three.” Cautious. Stay at a distance. Be ready to disengage. Drake nodded.
We had to take as few hits as possible in this first round. Fairy was markedly more dangerous than I’d been expecting, a few good hits could strip the Dark energy right out of Drake’s aura; in addition to the damage, it would make it necessary to replace the energy. There were two more Pokemon after this, and killing most of Drake’s reserves in this fight might leave him helpless against one of the other two. A perfect matchup for a Dark-type Pokemon, especially one that relied on speed and attack power. I resisted the urge to bite my finger and pushed down the paranoid notion that she’d been watching me train: she’d planned for a Dark type, that was all.
Fantina bowed to me from across the arena.
“It will be my pleasure to face you, Cam.”
I twitched, was I supposed to follow suit? Eventually, I tried for the closest thing to a proper bow as I could manage, scraping together what memories I had of live-action Japanese media.
“L-likewise.” I winced internally at the stumble, straightening up.
“There will be no time limit! There will be no hit limit, and no points! Battlers will continue until judged unable to!”
Shit, this really was a battle of endurance. The rules were specifically designed to push Drake to the limit, keep him fighting as long as he could. I could see the calculation in Fantina’s gaze. I resisted the urge to swallow in nervousness: I couldn’t let weakness show anymore than I already had. The referee held up their arms, then dropped them.
“Round one, mimikyu versus poochyena! BEGIN!”
Drake moved, darting to the side as the mimikyu rushed forwards, cloaked in pink energy. The little ghost attempted to pursue, chasing Drake around the arena, but Drake had vastly improved in holding the white glow of Normal in his legs and easily outdistanced them. After a few moments, the costume seemed to sag slightly as the pink energy began to leave its aura. Still, it tried to pursue him, and I resisted the urge to give a command. Wait for it, wait for it- there!
“STRIKE!”
Drake slammed his paws into the stone, Normal energy surging as he suddenly reversed direction, closing in an instant to short range. The mimikyu stumbled in surprise, tumbling as it did, unable to redirect itself. Drake’s aura surged with Dark, and jaws of black energy formed around his mouth as he bit at the mimikyu, who shrieked as the attack caught it about its real body at the base of its costume. The moment it had landed, Drake was off and away, his back turned towards the small Pokemon- a stroke of luck, as the little ghost attempted to respond with a bright flash of pink light!
I covered my eyes with a grimace, then lowered my hand to find Drake across the arena, watching the Ghost-type warily. Mimikyu’s disguise’s head was now flopped to one side bonelessly, a rent in its rag where Drake had sunk his teeth- and the Dark energy that came with a bite, into it. The tear was leaking purple and black into the air, a whisp that hung for a moment and trailed behind the ghost as it moved.
That’d been dazzling gleam, right? Could mimikyu learn fairy wind, as well? No, if it could- or if it knew the technique- it would’ve used it right at the start, and not bothered with an attempt at closing to melee. The strategies that Drake and I had come up with relied on his prodigious speed, and the way it allowed him to utilize hit and run tactics to avoid damage. A glance at Drake revealed that he was grimacing, the amount of Dark in his aura reduced, the area of effect Fairy technique having stripped the outer layer of energy from his aura. Every time the opposing mimikyu used that move, I had no doubt that it obliterated the outer layer of Dark energy, and it didn’t have to be aimed.
In order to strike, Drake had to move into melee range; I didn’t want to use snarl unless we were in trouble, given how much Dark energy the move required. Every time we struck, mimikyu could counter with dazzling gleam, and even if they came off more hurt in the exchange. Because, I realized with a start, Fantina was playing the long game. It didn’t matter if mimikyu didn’t get any really damaging hits in, because the main purpose behind their use was that they were meant to drain as much from Drake’s reserves as possible.
As I realized this, they charged forwards surrounded by pink energy again, Drake disengaging and refusing to allow them to close. I could see the strategy now: mimikyu pulls up the Fairy energy for a draining kiss or a play rough, and Drake avoids the move until the energy depleted. The moment that shield of pink was gone, we’d capitalize on it and move in for a strike, at which point they’d counter with dazzling gleam.
We could wear them out, over time. Brute force could work, Drake had enough energy to spare, but it was easy to spend something now, and it would make the next two fights harder. Another option was continuing to disengage, conserving energy and staying at a distance, allow the ghost to tire themselves out. Every time they pursued Drake, as they were doing right now, they burned more Fairy energy that they weren’t getting back.
Their tank was finite, and we could outlast them. But that didn’t demonstrate our capabilities.
“AGAIN!” I yelled, the moment the Fairy energy began to fade.
Drake darted in close, and I could see the mimikyu’s eyes flash, bracing themselves to take a hit and counter. I could see the flicker of dazzling gleam build, spiraling up, the Fairy energy from the aborted attack flowing away and gathering in the mimikyu’s head. I could see when it reached the tipping point, as Drake closed in-
“DISENGAGE!”
Drake slammed his paws into the stone floor and shoved himself away at speed, Normal energy driving him away from the ghost. The little mimikyu panicked, the Fairy energy flickering before releasing itself in an aborted attack. The instant it was gone, Drake reversed course again, and in the moment where the ghost was struggling to recover from the aborted attack, he slammed his head and the Dark energy that surrounded it into its little form. The mimikyu was sent bouncing across the stone, until it grabbed purchase with a ribbon-like hand of darkness, halting its tumble.
“Excellent work!” I looked up at Fantina, who had crossed her arms and was smiling easily. “You guessed my strategy very quickly, and have done an excellent job of leveraging your Pokemon’s natural abilities to counter it. However…”
She pointed at Drake, and I looked over to see him waver in place. A stream of energy flowed from him to the mimikyu across the space in between them, a glistening ribbon of energy. Draining kiss!? When had-? After a moment, the flow broke, and Drake’s aura surged with Dark as he growled. The mimikyu chirruped in agitation in response.
“You need to watch out for mimikyu’s arm! Its disguise is simply a distraction, after all, and sleight of hand is its specialty.”
… Dear Omnissiah, this was a rank one battle? We hadn’t prepared enough. We were behind, and now we were struggling at the first hurdle. I grit my teeth and shoved the thought away; it wouldn’t do us any good.
“Watch for the hand! If you have to abandon an attack, do it, we can’t afford hits like that!”
Drake nodded, watching the ghost across the arena. Despite the energy that it had stolen from him, the rents and tears in its rag cloak were obvious. They leaked dark wisps and Ghost energy, and I knew that those couple of hits had been severe, even if we’d come off damaged from making them. If Drake could get a bite on the arm, that would disable the mimikyu’s second method of countering, though I wasn’t sure that a feint would work a second time. We might have to just bull through, tank an attack or two to bring the Ghost and Fairy type down. We just couldn’t afford to waste energy on an extended engagement.
“Close!”
Drake darted in, mimikyu charging with Fairy energy again. This time, the energy focused around its body, not around its head. Telegraphing? I’d already seen what the prelude to dazzling gleam was. Drake got close in as I watched intently, and the moment I saw the hem of the mimikyu’s rag twitch-
“The arm! Bite it!”
Drake’s head jerked around and he sunk his teeth, and the Dark energy that infused them, into the grasping arm that had been looking to slap him with another draining kiss. The ghost shrieked so loud that Drake and I winced together, jerking its ribbon-like arm from Drake’s teeth, leaking the purple of Ghost energy. Drake immediately capitalized on the little ghost being wide open, spinning and slamming his head into it in another sucker punch. The ghost was sent bouncing across the stone again, this time without the streamer of recovering energy from draining kiss. Drake huffed in satisfaction, though I could see that he was breathing harder from here.
“Ah, such is the downfall of explaining your strategy to your opponent, I suppose.” Fantina shook her head, then held up a hand. “I see no purpose in continuing this. Mimikyu, you did excellently setting the stage for your fellow Pokemon!”
She recalled the little ghost in a flash of red light from where it was struggling to get up again. I felt myself slump slightly in relief at that: she could’ve kept going, and the mimikyu might have gotten in one or two more good hits in the process. I immediately straightened, however, ready for the next Pokemon.
“Mimikyu is declared unable to continue, and is eliminated from the battle!”
Drake moved back to my side of the field, Fantina tossed another Pokeball up into the air, where it snapped open with that self-same noise. A form appeared out of the energy, a floating skull with a single red eye staring out at the both of us through the empty eye socket. I shuddered; a duskull. Better than another mimikyu, to be sure.
“Round two, duskull versus poochyena! BEGIN!”
The Duskull disappeared in a pool of darkness, vanishing into the stone. A split second after, it was behind Drake, Ghost energy flaring as it moved to attack-
“Snarl!”
The duskull was blown away from Drake by the wave of Dark energy, spinning end over end in the air until it righted itself. I shivered as the temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, the Ghost type glaring at Drake with its singular eye, clearly displeased that its attack had been interrupted. It flew back to the opposite end of the arena, charging a purple ball that it released in Drake’s direction. The hyena didn’t even need my direction to dodge it, letting it splash uselessly against the stone in his wake, and I was reminded of when we’d faced much the same just over a week ago.
Purple balls of Ghost energy chased Drake across the arena, as he dodged and ducked. I bit my lip as I watched, surely there wasn’t just no plan to this? I watched the pattern of the rain of shadow balls, trying to discern what the intention was behind it. With its initial strategy foiled, surely there had to be something else, some other gambit in the strikes. And then, after a moment, I saw it, how the strikes were slowly hemming Drake in, driving him towards one of the corners of the arena!
“Tank and rush!”
Drake swapped directions. He’d been in the process of moving to dodge a shadow ball that was streaking through the air towards him, but now he cloaked himself in Dark. He slammed his body through the Ghost energy, grimacing even as it uncoiled and unraveled against his Dark-laden aura. The duskull had dropped lower, trying to drive Drake into a corner, and had left itself open to an attack. Drake closed the distance right as the duskull charged another shadow ball, blocking its view for a split second. His head crashed against the ghost, sending it flying across the arena for the second time this match.
“Ahhh, what splendid choreography! La danse des ténèbres et des fantômes- I have not fought a Dark type in too long!” Fantina pointed upwards, towards the ceiling, as the duskull floated up and out of Drake’s reach. “Don’t think I’ll give you another chance like that, however- it wouldn’t do to make this too easy for you!”
I glanced at Drake, who was panting but still on his feet. His legs weren’t shaking, so he was only somewhat winded, but I knew that we didn’t have much of that strategy. Tank and rush was powerful, particularly against Ghost types, but we hadn’t gotten very far in developing it. The rush of Dark necessary, and the energy burned off by simply tanking attacks rather than avoiding them, was a large drain. When we’d practiced it, Drake had been able to get up to using it about five times before he exhausted his reserves. In battle, with his energy going to things such as movement and attacks, I gauged that we could manage one, perhaps two more.
Duskull was calling up further shadow balls, using them as a screen to prevent Drake from closing in. If Drake had a running start and a good leap, he could perhaps reach the duskull where it floated high above the battlefield, but that would require running in a straight line. That would mean that he would take shadowballs, which meant we’d have to either expend another tank-and-rush or just eat the damage and hope it wasn’t too bad. I grit my teeth, it was looking like I didn’t really have a choice; the Ghost could hover in the air, slowly wearing Drake down through dodging while it expended not much energy in its attacks.
“Bull!”
Drake gave me a look, then his eyes screwed as he skidded to a halt and braced himself. He ran forwards in a reckless charge straight at the duskull, who, recognizing his intention, began raining shadow balls down on his path. Some Drake managed to dodge, moving slightly this way or that, but a few impacted against his fur like hammer blows. I cringed each and every time one struck, leaving singed fur leaking wisps of Ghost energy in its wake. Each strike was just a little more pain, a little more damage we would carry into the next fight, just that much more that Drake had to deal with.
“Hold on, Drake, we’re more than halfway through.” I whispered to myself, though I knew he couldn’t hear me.
He charged through the last of the shadow balls, the Ghost energy breaking apart in front of him- I realized that he’d managed to meet it with a sucker punch! The Dark energy around his head had dispersed the Ghost, leaving it to unravel around his head, what might have been a serious blow reduced to ribbons of energy hanging in the air. He shoved through what remained of it, then bunched his legs underneath him like springs. The duskull seemed to realize what he was up to, drifting back a bare inch, but it was too late.
Drake launched himself into the air, and his muzzle opened wide, shining white teeth glittering behind a layer of toothy Dark energy. He slammed into the duskull in midair, sinking his teeth into its rounded body as he did. The two fell to the floor of the arena, where Drake drove the ghost into the stone- only for him to phase through it, leaving him without something to grasp onto. He darted away, eyes alert and searching.
I shifted. Couldn’t duskull make themselves entirely invisible? If they could, it might be sneaking up for a strike right now. But how to discern that? The duskull could very well be hiding under the surface of the stone, recovering and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. We could risk a snarl and hope that it landed, but that would be a complete shot in the dark. I thought back on the fight, and realized that for all the attacking the duskull had done, it had only attempted to close once- right at the beginning, with its teleporting surprise attack. Since then, it had been entirely ranged in nature, attempting to hem Drake in or harry him with shadow ball. It had only demonstrated those two techniques, but I couldn’t account for it knowing others.
It had been slow in the air, not like Drake’s rapid pace over ground. It had reacted in time to Drake intending to leap at it, but had been far too slow to make enough distance for it to matter. If it was going to close to melee again, then this would be the time, when it could hide behind its invisibility to get close and then escape into the ground or by flying upwards when Drake was reeling. I could order him to tank, but that would burn Dark energy completely unnecessarily, and the duskull could just wait us out. The defensive aura would fail eventually. I didn’t like it, but we’d have to expend another snarl. But when to play it? I’d have to wait for the opportune moment. Duskull was an annoying combatant- it clicked.
Mimikyu had been designed to counter Drake’s Dark nature, drain and neutralize it with Fairy, act as an energy sink to absorb Dark before that energy could make it to the next Pokemon. Duskull was a harrier, intended to engage at range and stall, waste Drake’s energy and potentially get a few hits in, wear him down physically. With his reserves depleted and his body beaten up, he would be a mop up for the last Pokemon, the ace.
We’d already derailed the first plot when I’d seen through it, moving to rapidly disable the mimikyu. This strategy was one we could deal with- we’d gotten good hits in, and I thought that the snarl would do it for them. All we had to do was catch them off guard with it, and we’d be in a much more ideal condition than Fantina had planned for us to be when the ace came out.
I waited a few breaths, watching carefully. The silence stretched as Fantina and her duskull tested our patience, our ability to wait for the opportune moment to strike. My anxiety shrieked at me to give the order now- the duskull could be right behind him, could be waiting, might be readying a strike right now. But I calmed it, taking a breath as Drake stood stock still, all his senses focused.
In the end, it wasn’t me that gave the order. Drake’s head suddenly snapped around to his left, and when I jerked my gaze there, I saw the smallest amount of disturbed dust floating back down to the stone floor. Whether he’d heard it, or whether his instincts told him it was coming, he snarled! The pulse of Dark raced out, and the duskull appeared out of thin air, driven into the stone floor by the energy. Before it could bounce a second time, it dissolved into red energy, and I looked across the arena to see Fantina whisper something to the closed Pokeball before smiling at me.
“Duskull is also declared unable to continue, and is eliminated from the battle!” the referee said from the side, Drake’s ear twitching in her direction as he moved back in front of me.
“An impressive showing, to be certain.” Fantina called across the arena. “My next is the child of my longest partner and my oldest friend. Please, give her the best showing you can- I won’t settle for less!”
Fantina tossed a third Pokeball in the air. This one was different, painted in blacks and purples in complete conflict with the red and white of the others. It snapped open, and in the air in front of her formed a form I recognized with a start. The misdreavus that had been floating above the reception desk spun lazily in the air, watching me levelly before looking down at Drake with a slight grin. I swallowed slightly, my hands tightening into fists.
“All out, Drake. This is it.” I said. His ear twitched, and he nodded.
No more Pokemon after this. This was the final hurdle, the last challenge, and we’d give it our all. No more saving, no more holding back, we’d strike with everything we had. There was confidence in the expression of the Ghost type across from us as it floated, slowly spinning in the air. Fantina crossed her arms, a grin on her face as she stood tall across the battlefield.
The stone was covered in scorches, Dark, Fairy, and Ghost energy burned into the stone. The impacts of shadow balls had left little craters across the surface, things that still burned with the slightest wisps of purple energy. Drake stood in front of me, head high even as his sides gently heaved. He had enough in him to handle it, to push through this fight, and I tightened my hands again. I found that I believed in him, that I had faith- he could do this. We’d win, we’d earn that badge, and we’d do it together. I felt a shuddering in my chest, and pushed it down.
I wasn’t going to act like we’d already won. Drake was hurt and at least somewhat drained after beating two different Pokemon, and this was the strongest yet. The child of her strongest Pokemon? It had to have potential. It amazed me that she was sending out something like that against us, and for a split second I wondered if we really had a chance- but I crushed the thought without hesitation. Drake was standing tall, teeth bared and paws spread, ready for the fight to begin. If he wasn’t going to hesitate, not even for a moment, then neither was I.
“We can do it.” I said to Drake.
“Final round! Misdreavus versus poochyena!”
“So let’s show them what we’re made of!”
“BEGIN!”