Misdreavus’ opening move was yet more shadow balls.
I hissed in displeasure, but I recognized the reasoning. Wasting Drake’s limited stamina with tactics like this was just pushing him that much closer to his rapidly-approaching limit. Every ranged attack was one we had to either dodge, wasting our limited opportunities to attack, or take, which meant either mounting damage or mounting exhaustion. I figured that Drake had maybe one more tank and rush in him, and if we pulled it, whatever we did next would compose our last move.
Drake darted around the impacts of the purple balls of Ghost energy, his teeth bared in frustration as they kept him from closing to melee. With Drake’s lack of ranged capability, keeping us just far enough that we couldn’t strike was intensely difficult to deal with. With our only ranged moved out and our method for getting close a measure of last resort…
I chewed my finger while Drake dodged and weaved around the shadow balls. Unlike before, where the duskull was herding him into a corner, the misdreavus didn’t seem to particularly be aiming for anything in particular. Fantina stood across the arena, watching me intently as the Ghost hovered over the battlefield, spinning lazily in the air and raining down purple orbs of shadow… and then I twitched.
I stared at the shadow balls, measuring them with my eyes. For a moment, I thought I’d been imagining things, but- no, the next was visibly slightly smaller than the last. The absolute hail of attacks raining down the battlefield went unstopped, impacting and layering craters over the existing ones, purple energy washing over the stone. But each one fired was slightly smaller than the last.
If one limit was the overall energy that a Pokemon could generate before exhausting themselves, then the other was the rate at which they could generate that energy. Techniques often required more energy than the flow into the aura, meaning that you drew from what type energy was already in the aura. But if a Pokemon committed to rapidfire techniques that drained the energy stored in the aura faster than it was being replenished… my eyes narrowed. No, Fantina wouldn’t make such an amateur's mistake, not with the extreme amount of knowledge about aura and type energy that a Leader would have. This especially wouldn’t be happening with the ace, who would have the best regeneration of any of the Pokemon yet.
On the misdreavus’ face, the continuous lazy smirk they wore was slowly becoming more and more strained as I watched. But as I looked closer, watched the Ghost’s body and face, I could see the bits of prep- I could make out how some of the shadow balls came out too large, only to shrink a fraction of a second after, the purple Ghost energy drawn back into the aura in the moment of their creation. So, then… a trap? A feint? I inhaled slightly, my eyes widening just a touch.
The misdreavus was attempting to trick us, to indicate that they were burning everything in their aura, that they were vulnerable. A hex, maybe? Didn’t hex drastically decrease the speed of the target? I could see the procession of events: I order Drake to take advantage of the vulnerability and move into point blank range for a bite or sucker punch. The moment that he can’t escape easily, the misdreavus takes all that Ghost type energy they were hoarding in their aura, hexes Drake to ensure that he can’t disengage or dodge like he was now, and then pummels him at close range. Without the speed to get to safety, dodge, or get close enough to land a hit, it would just be slow loss.
Unless, of course, we tripped the trap on purpose.
Drake darted around three shadow balls, one after the other, lips drawn back from ivory teeth as tiny ribbons of Ghost energy skittered off his fur. Flickers of Dark outlined his aura, tamed and contained, a stockpile of unmanifested energy. If we could get close enough to land a good, solid hit, it might slow the misdreavus enough to turn their plan back on them. Instead of Drake stuck at a range where he couldn’t engage or dodge, they would struggle to gain enough distance from him to avoid his attacks.
I knew Drake’s limits intimately from a week of constant training and testing, and we were approaching them fast. Even just dodging was slowly whittling him down to nothing in a battle of endurance that we couldn’t afford to fight, a slow march to losing. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to do much more than dodge, our combat time completely expended. If we wanted to move and put up a fight, it had to be right here, right now!
“Drake, they’re running low! Hit ‘em hard!”
His paws scraped against the stone as he braked, hard, then launched himself towards the floating purple form. Purple orbs splashed against the stone where he would’ve otherwise been going, the misdreavus having a moment of disorientation that was their downfall. Drake took advantage of the split second to move in close, claws skittering against the hard floor as he got as close as he could, Dark burning around his jaws. But I had only eyes for the misdreavus, their face, their eyes, their body.
The slight widening of the eyes as Drake changed directions. False.
A panicked expression, the launching of multiple different shadow balls, all smaller than before. Misdirection.
Backing off slightly… but not at the speed that the ghost had exhibited before. Bait for the trap.
And there, as Drake darted in closer, I saw what I’d been looking for. Purple flowing around them in streaks and lines, orbs of darkness flinging themselves from around them, Drake almost right in front of where they hovered just above the ground. In a moment, a fraction of a second glimpse through the wall of mixed purple and black, I caught the ghost’s eyes narrow. A truer expression than they’d exhibited thus far, even as the purple type energy surged slightly, forming at the front. Hex?
“FEINT!” I shouted.
Drake’s ear twitched, and in a moment, he understood. His paws slapped the ground as he propelled himself to the side, Dark emanating from his form as he reoriented himself relative to his target. The misdreavus’ eyes widened for real this time, the ghost turning slightly to try and follow Drake through the motion, the attack that they’d been charging flaring larger. Before they could turn fully, Drake surged with Dark, slamming his forehead into the ghost’s side. The misdreavus was driven a few steps away, reeling from the heavy blow that had unraveled the energy they’d been gathering. There were flickers of emotion across the ghost’s face in the aftermath- shock, surprise, panic. A shadow ball that put every other to shame coalesced and fired with a CRACK, skating across the ground and leaving a plume of dust in its wake. Drake, however, wasn’t there.
During his practice bouts with Jive, the linoone had always been the faster of the two. When Drake tried to trust his speed, to come at the other Dark type in a straight line, Jive had always punished him for it almost immediately. Drake had swiftly learned, entirely of his own accord, that speed was less inherently valuable than a creative or lateral approach to the target. The dust hanging in the air blocked the misdreavus’ sight for a bare instant, and as I watched, his aura surged with Dark…
And then he vanished.
I stared, wide-eyed, at the empty space that Drake had just been occupying. Across the Arena, Fantina had unfolded her arms and stood straighter, surprise layered over a sharp and searching look as she scanned the arena in a moment. The misdreavus fired crackling shadow balls, a spike of Dark accompanying the purple surrounding them. As the last ball of Ghost energy fired, they released a pulse of Dark, a wave that spread out from them with lightning quickness- like a less aggressive version of snarl. Snarl used the sound of the snarling itself to carry the Dark energy of the attack, but this was a wave of pure Dark, something that no doubt wasn’t easy for a Ghost-type to manage.
Still, though I sucked in a breath and waited a few anxious moments, Drake didn’t appear. Did that mean that the attack had missed entirely, or had he dodged it? Had he been out of its range? I couldn’t tell, and from the way that the misdreavus’ aura surged with purple, I didn’t think they could, either. Something began forming around them out of that energy, a latticework beaten into shape by aura and will, something that nearly made me take a single step back- and then, Drake was suddenly behind the ghost.
His teeth were bared, paws creating a puff of dust as he dug them into the stone floor. Dark surged across his body, drawn up his form and towards his forehead, where it concentrated itself into a single surging mass of energy. I realized that there were a precious few moments that the misdreavus was completely focused on whatever effort they were putting their energy towards, and that Drake had seen that, had moved to take advantage of it even while still under the veil of what had to be feint attack. The Ghost straightened, head beginning to turn as their effort rapidly dissipated back into unbound TE, but it was far too late to stop Drake’s head slamming into their body.
Whatever Ghost energy that was still bound in the aborted technique was torn to shreds by the surge of Dark from the impact. The misdreavus was blown away by it, sent spiraling in the opposite direction, even as Drake practically threw himself forwards. The blow might have knocked the Ghost away, but he wasn’t going to let them escape, especially not as he began burning whatever was left of his reserves with abandon.
This was the tipping point. All or nothing, everything on the line. Drake was like a dark comet as his aura surged with black energy, blow after blow meted out towards the ghost. The misdreavus screeched in rage and pain, rolling waves of poisonous purple sending themselves splashing across Drake’s aura one after the other. With every attack, he flared, but I could see that it was smaller and less opaque with each hammerblow he struck, with each attack he took or dodged. I watched as he depleted everything he had against this last opponent, pressing with all his might against the ghost at point blank.
Drake knew it, too. I could see the moment where his eyes flickered, where he realized that he was burning through the last dregs of power he had. And it wasn’t enough- the misdreavus was fresh, and even if we could bull through with pure type advantage and sheer power right now, they had more reserves.
The second hung, a moment suspended in time. My fists tightened until my knuckles were white, and I had eyes only for Drake’s face, and the series of emotions that crossed it. Realisation, concern, resignation. But that wasn’t right, not by a long shot. We hadn’t come this far, through more and stronger Pokemon than I thought we’d fight, not just to resign ourselves to our loss at the last moment.
“DRAAAAAAKE!”
Someone shouted, so loud my ears rang- and after a moment, I realised that it had been me. His red eyes found me, through the clash of purple and black.
There were no words, in that moment. Nothing passed my lips. I felt that, for a second, Drake understood what I meant without a single sound. I glared at him, my teeth clenched, trying to communicate that idea to him- that if he fell, then he fell with pride. That neither of us would give in.
Just a little more, I thought in that moment hung in space. Just one last move.
I saw the look in his eyes, the resignation giving to surprise. And then the look hardened, defiance driving out that look of loss, an inflamed desire. He turned towards the misdreavus, the ghost wreathed with crackling purple, with that resignation gone. I could read the determination in his face, in his body, in the way he planted his paws on the stone floor. I could see it in how he stoked his aura one last time, as the misdreavus streaked towards him like an artillery shell, how he stood his ground. The Dark energy hissed and spat as it roiled around him, and he lifted his head high, staring directly into the eyes of his opposite. There was a moment where they made eye contact.
And then the moment passed.
The wave of purple struck the ball of black that had surrounded Drake with all the fury of a thunderclap. The stone shattered underneath them, the dust billowed, the Ghost and Dark energy clashing against each other. The latter burned the former, even as the purple sought to overwhelm. I held my breath, even as they mashed together, and then- they were gone.
The Dark burned away the last of the Ghost, and there was a sound like a boulder shattering. The dust swirled, and my eyes widened as a small figure came bouncing out of the cloud, skipping across the stone like a rock across the surface of a lake. They slid to a stop, and I couldn’t help crying out, taking a single step forwards before freezing in place. I closed my eyes, my stomach dropping through the floor. We had been so close, so close to that peak I’d seen, even through the haze of battle. We just hadn’t had the strength, the stamina, the sheer sustain that Fantina had possessed.
The meager crowd cheered.
I twitched in surprise at the noise- I’d been so enthralled, so focused, that I’d blocked them out entirely. In a moment, I was reminded they’d been there, and I looked towards the stands. My eyes searched the bright colours of the few trainers and onlookers there, who were clapping, standing, staring. My eyes froze on a figure in the crowd, the only one sitting down.
Blake adjusted his brown cap, but it didn’t hide that the expression on his face was a smile wide enough that I couldn’t mistake it. As I looked at him, his eyes flicked to me, something unreadable in them. His gaze flicked away, towards the field, and he nodded once. I blinked back, and turned back to where the dust cloud was dying down.
I stared at the figure of Drake, lying on the stone. There was just a slight movement- was he still conscious? But, no, I realized, it was just the ethereal wisping of… my eyes widened, and I looked closer, because the figure on the stone floor wasn’t black and gray. No, the Pokemon that was lying on the stone, out cold… was purple.
My head jerked around, and I realized that I could just make out a figure through the settling stone dust. They stood in the center of the arena, legs straight underneath them, head high. As the cloud settled, I could make out his fur, his legs, his head, his unfocused red eyes.
Drake stood alone in the center of the Gym’s arena.
As I looked closer, I realised that his legs were shaking, his face spoke of exhaustion. His eyes were staring through Fantina, through the wall behind her, focused on nothing. His tail was limp, and he exhibited each and every spot across his flank where the fur had been burned to the undercoat by the attacks he’d bullied his way through. But still, despite it all…
“Misdreavus has been declared unable to battle!”
He still stood.
“Poochyena and Cam… are the victors!”
The breath rushed out of me in a wave, almost a laugh if it wasn’t so quiet. My legs wobbled, and I nearly fell to all fours, barely keeping myself standing. I felt like I’d run a marathon, my heart pounding in my chest. Beating against the inside of my ribs. I could feel the rush of blood, the giddiness, and I pushed it away, attempting to stand straight.
There was a flicker of red as Fantina recalled her ghost, cradling the Pokeball in her hands and whispering something to it with a small smile. She placed it behind her back, then raised her eyes to me. I felt as if I’d been pinned in place for one moment, flicking my eyes away from her and towards Drake. Who, I realized, hadn’t moved.
It didn’t appear that the little hyena had heard the decision of the judge. He still stood in the exact same place, upright and staring. I looked back at his face, and with a start, I realized that if he’d heard the announcement, he hadn’t comprehended it. His eyes still had the unfocused look of exhausted concentration, and I felt tingling as it clicked: he was standing through sheer will alone, waiting for a final strike. He’d given his all in one final effort, an act of defiance against what we both thought had been an inevitability, and was now waiting for the execution blow. There wasn’t even the awareness to realize that he’d won the last charge through sheer refusal to surrender, everything he had left was going into keeping himself standing.
The sounds of the crowd, the gaze of Fantina, faded to the back of my mind. My first step was hesitant, a foot across the line of the trainer’s box and into the arena itself, but each step after that was sure. I walked across the cracked stone floor to where Drake still stood, and carefully, I reached out and placed a hand against his side. I felt his muscles jerk under my touch, and I nearly went to withdraw my hand, then took a breath and kept it pressed against him.
“It’s over.” I whispered to him. “We won.”
A breath streamed out of his muzzle, and he turned his eyes on me, disbelieving. His gaze went through me, focused on my face for a second, then lost it. There was shock and doubt and, past those two, a spark of hope. I smiled, placing my other hand on his head, his eyes sliding half closed.
“Yeah, it’s real. We did it. You and me.”
Wetness gathered in his eyes, soaking the fur around them. His legs wobbled, but that was alright because I was there to catch him as he finally collapsed. I took him in my arms, cradling him against my chest as I stood. He tried to crane his head around to look at me, but couldn’t quite make it, going limp with a gasp. I pressed him against me, and muttered in his ear.
“It’s alright. Sleep for a little while, alright? You’ve earned it… and a lot more than that.”
He resisted for just a moment more, but I could see the moment he gave in to it, his eyes flickering before drifting closed. In moments, he was breathing deeply, fast asleep as he curled up against my chest. I stood up with him in my arms, feeling something warm in my chest. Maybe it had been more him than me, particularly in those final moments where he decided to press with everything he had left, but I didn’t think he’d begrudge me to share in just a little of the feeling of triumph.
I turned my head upwards, towards where Fantina was waiting, content to stand by and give us our small moment together. I felt a small surge of gratitude towards her, that she’d recognized what we’d needed and had the tact to stand by and wait until we were finished. As I looked at her, a small smile stretched across her face, but her eyes were unreadable. Measuring. Curious, maybe. As our eyes met, she stepped forwards and towards me, quick and graceful footsteps across the rough stone floor, surefooted despite the cracks and shattered portions. I stood a little straighter and moved to meet her in the center of the arena, shifting Drake so that he was supported by one of my arms.
“Une performance incroyable. Impressive, particularly for a rank zero trainer- stupéfiante. I must say, the two of you were much stronger than I’d accounted for- I kept having to adjust my strategy on the fly.” She made a gesture, hand flowing through it with ease. “Not something you would say is unusual for a trainer battle, non? However, between your typing and surprising acumen, I found myself pressed harder than I’d thought to be.”
Her gloved hand went behind her back, coming forwards again after a moment, closed into a fist. It turned over, fingers up, then opened like a purple flower. There in the center of her palm shone silver and purple, rings of metal around purple gems that sparkled in the light. I inhaled through my nose.
“It seems to me that you’ve earned this in a most definitive sense. Few can say that they battled a Leader in their first rank match, much less won the fight. That’s quite the Pokemon that you have, there.”
I licked my lips and nodded, reaching out and taking the badge from her hand. She smiled and retracted it, then bowed to me.
“I wish you well in your travels, trainer, wherever they may take you.”
With that, she spun on her heel and walked towards the opposite exit of the arena. I hesitated for a moment, looking to where Blake sat in the stands. The Galarian trainer motioned me towards the opposite exit, and I nodded, then turned and walked out. There was labeling for the exit, a side door that led away from the waiting room I’d found myself in before. A series of tunnels led me through another door, back out into the lobby of the Gym, which was just about unchanged since the last time I’d been here- save the absence of the misdreavus above the front desk.
“Hooooh shit.” I said, suddenly wavering in the doorway. “I didn’t actually watch any of Fantina’s matches.” My eyes widened, and I stumbled to the side, back against the wall. “Holy shit, I fought Fantina. I beat Fantina.”
I hadn’t exactly studied the Leader, for pretty self-evident reasons. I’d expected that my opponent would be randomly chosen from the pool of Gym trainers, which was the typical process. As far as I’d learned from Blake and my own research, usually there wasn’t a lot of studying done on specific opponents before the Leaders actually started coming out at badge four. After all, if you’re just going to be pitted against somebody with a completely different training and fighting style, with Pokemon that could be practically anything that fell under the purview of the Gym, then why bother? You’d be wasting your time, more than not.
In this case, though, Fantina had broken the mold. She’d decided, for some reason I couldn’t begin to guess, to face me herself. Drake huffed weakly in his sleep in my arms, and I stood straighter. The Pokemon he’d faced must have been her personal Pokemon, a lower ranked team. Still… I’d made the mistake of not researching the Leader of this particular Gym, an oversight that I’d only not paid for through Drake’s sheer grit and dumb luck.
“You look like you’ve been through the ringer.”
My head jerked up, Blake giving me an amused smile. I took another deep breath, then smiled back, though I knew the expression had to come off as shaky at best.
“I feel like I have… honestly, I feel like I got my ass kicked here from the next region over.”
I stroked Drake’s head, who merely twitched slightly in response, absolutely conked out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was unconscious for another couple of hours, at least. Best if I got him to the Center for a checkup. I walked towards the doors of the Gym, Blake stepping to my side and keeping pace.
“I have to say, it was quite a shock to see Fantina herself take the field. I winced the moment I thought about the fact that I’d advised against you researching her.”
I shrugged. “Honestly, don’t sweat it. I don’t think either of us could have predicted that she would come down herself to fight me.” I paused, turning towards him and forcing myself to make eye contact with him. “I don’t blame you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Hell, I don’t know if either of us would have lasted past the first round without you working with us for every spare moment of the last week. Drake needed every moment of that to develop the abilities and stamina that carried him through, and I needed it to develop the strategies that allowed him to do so. I don’t just think that we would’ve lost without the guidance of you and your Pokemon, I know it.”
He glanced away from me at the last words, a bit of heat rising into his cheeks as an awkward, though earnestly appreciative smile, made its way onto his face.
“Well… I’m glad that I was able to help you, at least. Suppose it was both our good fortune that Jive picked you out of the crowd… honestly, I think it’s helped both of us.”
“Picked me out of the…?” I blinked. He shrugged in return.
“Yeah, he was interested in you, though I’m not sure why. Tough for a trainer to truly communicate with their Pokemon at the best of times, and he seemed… unwilling to talk about it.”
“Huh… I suppose that is fortunate.” I thought for a moment as we approached the front doors. “Maybe he was interested because he smelled Drake on me? The presence of another Dark type?”
“Maybe! Jive’s a close mate of mine, but I don’t delude myself into thinking I understand his every thought and decision like some trainers. Pokemon are mysterious and strange, much as they’re our companions.”
“I don’t think you’ll find me disagreeing with that. Though…”
As Blake made it to the doors, the panels of glass sliding open automatically to allow us through, I paused and looked back towards the reception desk. The misdreavus wasn’t back, probably wouldn’t be for a while given that we’d given them a proper knockout rather than just wearing them down. The guy that had led me deeper into the Gym and to the waiting room was working the PC, and didn’t seem to notice my attention.
“Honestly, I think Fantina isn’t far behind them.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
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In her private antechamber, Fantina unbuckled the Pokeball mount from where it hung, attached to her lower back. The mount went into a cubbyhole, and the Pokeballs it carried- six, varying designs and patterns shimmering slightly in the plain white light- went into a carrier in the wall. She sealed the doors, and it shuddered, taking the Pokeballs down to the Gym’s private medical center, specifically for the use of the Leader and their trainers. She stretched, glad to have the slight weight of the Pokeballs and their mount off of her lower back, then turned away.
She eyed a large screen mounted on the wall; it showed a few rank four matches scheduled for later in the day. Unfortunately, she might have to give them to the Gym trainers, and the higher rank trainers always were crétins difficiles about it. She moved around her desk, strewn with a variety of papers in varying stages of completion, and settled into the office chair behind it with the grace that she was so well known for.
A mere few taps at the keyboard brought up the recordings of the battles of the day. Kept on record as training material and reference guides for Gym trainers, the recordings were wiped from the central servers after a week’s time unless flagged otherwise by someone with the authority to do so. She quickly flagged the most recent grouping of files, Porygons that lived in the archives rapidly selecting for best camera angles and sound quality between mics before saving the finished products as groups just like these. She pulled down a copy locally, then settled in, resting her chin on her folded hands.
She focused on their faces, the trainer and his Pokemon. Their body language, their moment to moment decision making. The moment that they glanced into the audience, and the camera angle that showed whom they were making eye contact with. The moments where they changed priorities, shifted responses. The seconds where the poochyena surged forwards.
“Qu'en pensez-vous ?” She asked to the empty room.
The lights flickered for just a moment, though the PC’s screen remained untouched. A chill climbed up her spine, a sensation that she was so familiar with now that she found it comforting instead of unsettling, as most might. A flicker of purple, and her mismagius, her strongest and oldest partner, leaned over her shoulder. As she replayed the videos again and again, their eyes traced the poochyena across the screen, trailing around his figure as much as they watched him. Fantina waited, understated tension in her form, watching her Pokemon closely.
Mismagius finally moved, merely to nod and then fade away.
“Fils bâtard d'une prostituée à moitié enfanté.” She hissed at the once more empty room.
She took a breath, then let it out, leaning away from the desk and folding her hands in her lap, eyes closed. Another? Here and now, so soon after…? It wasn’t a coincidence, it couldn’t be. Particularly not with what they had in tow. She sighed, then reached out and pushed the videos to a second monitor, bringing up the PC’s video call functions. She selected an option from a list of contacts, then settled into wait.
The call rang three times, then, halfway through the fourth, there was a click. The calling icon was replaced with an image of a woman in black, and Fantina leaned forwards.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe we have the opportunity to stand on formalities this time.” Her lips twitched. “I’m afraid that we have another.”
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Halfway through the trip to the Center, Drake woke up in my arms. He was still bleary and weak, and though he wiggled a bit and seemed to be somewhat insulted at the idea that I’d carry him the rest of the way, he relented after a moment. If he wasn’t putting up that much of a fight, I figured that he must’ve been completely spent. Given how he eventually settled in for the ride, watching passing people and Pokemon from my arms, I guessed that he’d arrived at the same conclusion and decided that being carried was the lesser of two evils.
Blake had released Jive and Devi, who, if what my occasional glances towards them told me was correct, were having something of a tiff with each other. It was easy to see how smug Jive was, practically trotting with his head held high, the linoone occasionally leering at the cinderace. Devi would occasionally mutter what seemed to me to be growled swear words, which Jive answered with pulled faces and chirruped noises that just seemed to infuriate him more. Blake walked to one side, watching their squabbling with amusement. I could guess what they were fighting about pretty easily, honestly.
I turned my head back to Drake, who was looking over my shoulder and watching the two stronger Pokemon go back and forth. As if sensing my gaze on him, he turned his head slightly, fixing me with one red eye. I shuffled him in my arms.
“So, you figured it out at the last moment, huh?” He tilted his head a little. “Feint attack.”
At this, his attention turned fully from the other two, gaze glittering with surprise. I felt a note of surprise myself at his response, stopping for a moment.
“You… vanished, when the smokescreen of stone dust blocked the misdreavus’ view. And I don’t mean that you vanished behind it, I mean that you were there… and then you were gone. Invisible. You didn’t appear for several long seconds, until you sucker punched them.”
“Adrenaline.” I twitched, and realised that Blake had come forwards to walk at our side, watching Drake. “In the moment, he did it by accident or on instinct, and didn’t realize what was happening. Bet you thought it was weird that the misdreavus wasn’t tracking you for those few seconds, yeah?” Drake nodded. “Mhm, adrenaline. Not enough space in your concentration to put together ‘hang on, why aren’t they tracking me’, just enough to see that they’re focused away from you and that there’s a vulnerable point you can strike.”
“Doesn’t feint attack come with some kind of feeling, though? Surely you have to know how it feels when you’re using something.” I asked Drake.
Blake shook his head. “Not necessarily. Some Pokemon are born knowing certain techniques right from the moment of conception, and they use the techniques more through instinct than through training and figuring it out. In retrospect, when properly mentored, they can reverse engineer what they’re doing to make the technique work and-” He frowned. “Nah, not relevant. The point is that a Pokemon can definitely use a technique without realising it. Often, breakthroughs with a particularly difficult technique happens during a moment of frustration, exhaustion, or stress, where the Pokemon’s mentality is shifted just enough that they do something without really thinking about it.”
“So… will he be able to use it again?”
“Oh, no, he’s not there yet. I’m not surprised that he had his breakthrough in combat- battles push Pokemon to the limit, and often past them. A lot of evolutions and epiphanies come in the heat of battle, it’s why it’s so vital to the development of a Pokemon. However, just having a breakthrough with a technique doesn’t mean that he’s capable of using it.”
“Ah.” Drake slumped a little in my arms in disappointment, and I touched his nose. “None of that. Feint attack or not, you rushed your way through three Pokemon fighting under the guidance of a Leader. That’s nothing to sneeze about.”
“There’s good news, though.” I raised my eyebrows at Blake, the hyena in my arms swinging his head around to look at him. “Now that he’s had that breakthrough, it means that he’s ready to actually figure out how to use the tech reliably. A little training with Devi and Jive, and he’ll figure it out rapidly, I’m sure. The biggest hurdle in learning the move has been crossed, and it’s all easy street from here.”
“Ah…” I frowned. “I’m afraid I’m… not sticking around.”
We stepped onto the street that the Center was on. The Center and the Gym weren’t that far apart. I guessed that, in terms of any kind of emergency that might need the Leader’s attention, it would be quick and easy for Gym trainers or Fantina herself to reach it. The street was now packed with people that were definitively trainers and their Pokemon, coming to and from the Center, and the alleyways to its sides that led to the public training arenas.
“That so?”
“Yeah. I’ve got a friend who’s a Ranger, actually the one who sponsored my League Affiliation. He told me to stick around here in Hearthome for about a week, see if he couldn’t find a Ranger patrol that I could accompany over Coronet to Oreburgh on the other side. Unfortunately, there aren’t any patrols scheduled, and with the Hearthome Gym defeated there’s no reason for me to stay any longer.”
“In a rush to move on, then? Eager to challenge the rest of the Gym circuit?”
I shook my head. “I challenged Fantina because I was here, and the Gym was open. I’m not particularly eager to challenge the rest of the Gyms, not just yet. You remember that I got caught in the nastiness in Vinewood, right?”
He hummed, looking away. “Ghosts, right. So you, what, challenged the Gym to get closure on that?”
I paused for a moment in my tracks, brow furrowed. I hadn’t really thought about that, but I guessed that one of the things that worried me, hanging in the back of my head, was that Drake and I would be caught in another one of those events. I knew from what I’d found out that they could be truly nasty, ghosts making off with chunks of people’s memories or people altogether, but I hadn’t thought about it consciously. Now, though, looking back, I could see how that anxiety hanging in the background had driven me. I looked at Drake, who was staring back at me with a knowing expression. Was that why he’d pushed himself so hard, to prove that if we found ourselves in that situation again, we could fight our way out far easier than we had? I felt a surge of gratitude towards the Dark type in my arms.
“Thank you.” I whispered to him. Drake merely twitched his ear in reply, either electing to ignore it otherwise or just too tired to respond beyond that. Probably the latter, if I was being honest.
“That didn’t occur to you before now?” Blake asked, a note of surprise in his voice. I shook my head in response.
“I haven’t exactly had a lot of time for introspection. Between everything in Vinewood, and then the trip here, the battle against that one trainer, then prepping for the Gym challenge…” I sighed. “Haven’t had barely any time to myself. Training and work and planning.”
“Huh. Well, now that you’ve defeated the Gym, maybe you can spend at least the rest of the day in town and ship out tomorrow? I know that me and my team would appreciate the company, and a day to rest and prepare wouldn’t go amiss I feel, especially if you’re aiming to cross Coronet on foot.”
I hummed, tilting my head and thinking about it as we approached the doors to the Center. A trainer with a charmeleon walked past us, talking into his Pokenav. The Charmeleon gave us a sideways glance, focusing a particular wariness on Jive and Drake, before following in their trainer’s footsteps. I watched them go, thinking about my response.
“I think… yeah, I think you’re right. An additional day couldn’t hurt. I don’t doubt that the Center’s going to ground us from going anywhere or doing anything for at least that long, and I don’t really want to set out on a journey with you-” Drake twitched his ears- “as exhausted as you are.”
He gave me a miffed look, but huffed a sigh and seemed to accept it. I suppose that even he knew his limits- or, at least, realised when he’d met them, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Blake made an amused noise to my side, and we moved into the Center.
Unlike Emeragrove or Vinewood, this Center actually appeared to be operated by one of the Joys. She was orchestrating the process of the Center with impressive ease, directing people and Pokemon to various purposes and tasks. If this was how every Joy managed a Center, then I wasn't particularly surprised that they’d ended up dominating most of the Pokemon Centers. In retrospect, I wondered if Emeragrove and Vinewood hadn’t had Joys because they just didn’t have the sheer traffic to justify their management. Here, however, Hearthome was the central medical hub for a large number of surrounding communities, as well as this side of Coronet. It was the thing of local versus regional hospitals, where the latter has more specialists and equipment, and can more effectively address a wider range of medical issues.
If I remembered the Sinnoh map correctly, to get comparable medical care to this Center, one would have to go all the way south to Pastoria, or northeast to Veilstone, both of which were quite far from where we were. I suspected that it was much easier to base everything in the area out of Hearthome, and then have smaller Centers as an analogue for general practitioners. If nothing else, the comparisons I could draw to medical care back home were interesting, given that veterinarians and medical doctors seemed to be essentially one and the same here.
Joy’s eyes went to me, and with a flick of her hand and a few words, she directed a nurse towards me. A guy with swirled blue hair swirled a cup of something, drained it, then leaned against the counter and addressed me.
“Emergency?”
“Ah… no, I’m just carrying him because he’s exhausted.”
“Mm.” He took a clipboard from behind the desk, quickly filling it out with rapid strokes of a pen. He paused at a specific line, looking back up at me with eyebrows raised. “Originating event?”
“Uh, Gym battle?” I said with uncertainty.
Drake hadn’t been injured in any significant way since Vinewood, and that meant that I’d not sought the services of a Center since Alice. Weird thought, that, given how much I tended to use the centers in the games… with no levels to raise, I suppose there was no reason to grind, which was the main causal factor behind my Center usage. On top of that, I had the sneaking suspicion that going around and jumping every local Pokemon that I saw wouldn’t precisely be looked on with favour. Call it a hunch.
“Ah, Fantina. Yes, I can see the shadow ball impacts.” He made his way down the rest of the checklist. “Any known long-term medical issues, medications, chronic illnesses, allergies…?”
“Oh, well… no medications, nothing else that I’m aware of. He might have medical records from Vinewood’s Center, those would have more information than I would.”
He grunted. “I’ll send a request along. In the meantime, would you mind returning your poochyena to their ball?”
I shared an uneasy look with Drake. I hadn’t put him back in his Pokeball since Vinewood, and neither of us was particularly eager to, but he seemed to understand and was resigned to it. Ultimately, I supposed that we had to listen to what the medical professional said, no matter if we were reluctant about it. If I let that stop me, after all, I wouldn’t have any vaccines at all.
… Actually, were my shots up to date? What were diseases like here? Shit, I should get that checked out. As much as I absolutely hated the idea, I hated the idea of catching some nasty thing the Pokemon world had that I was entirely unadapted to more. Good idea to check regardless.
I held up Drake’s Pokeball, and he pressed his paw to the button. I nearly stumbled as the weight in my arms vanished, the hyena turning into red energy which was promptly scooped up by the red and white ball, which then clicked shut. I held the ball for a few long moments, somewhat reluctant to even let him go, before I finally handed it over the counter and to the nurse. He took it without hesitation, picking up the clipboard.
“Do you have identification?”
“Oh, League Affiliate’s card- one second.”
I rummaged around and brought out the piece of plastic, handing it across the counter. The nurse put the Pokeball in a bowl-like receptacle that was clearly made for exactly that purpose, then swiped the card through a reader and nodded.
“Alright, checks out. We have your Pokenav number on file, we’ll contact you when your poochyena’s ready for pickup. You can wait here or elsewhere, just be sure to pick up your Pokemon in a timely manner in order to avoid them being considered abandoned.”
I tensed, thinking about how Drake had been left at the Vinewood Center. I felt a flash of indignation, that this person would imply that I would do that to him again, then pressed it down; there was no way he could know. I let out a breath and relaxed.
“Does that happen a lot?”
He grunted again, giving the empty coffee cup he’d brought over a disgruntled look. “Often enough to be a known factor.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Usually, the first we know of a Pokemon being abandoned is when their trainer doesn’t show up to pick them up.”
I winced, Blake frowning in sympathy at my side. I had to admit, the idea of a Pokemon being abandoned when injured and then finding out their trainer wasn’t coming back for them had to be… well, traumatizing at the very least.
The nurse waited for a moment more, to see if I had any additional questions, then took Drake’s Pokeball and moved towards the back. I couldn’t tear my eyes away until he went through a door and out of sight, and that only increased the anxiety I was feeling about it.
“Nervous?” Blake said, voice low.
“Yeah, I…” I swallowed. “Drake and I haven’t been apart practically since we met. I know that a little more than a week’s not a lot of time, but…”
He waved his hand. “Don’t worry, I get it. Trainers bond fast with Pokemon that accept them. Good trainers usually can’t stand to be away from their Pokemon for very long, they tend to get mounting anxiety. It’s like missing parts of yourself.”
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” I commented.
He smiled. “Yeah, I like to think I’m a good trainer.”
Devi huffed, as if offended by the idea that Blake might not be, while Jive threaded his way between Blake’s legs affectionately. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, dispelling a bit of the anxiety that I was feeling. We moved away from the desk, closer to where couches and large cushions were scattered around in a kind of waiting room. Larger Pokemon were laying on the cushions while their trainers waited nearby, chairs and small beds occupied by a colourful mix of individuals and species. Across the lobby, I could see a small cafe and a shop.
Looking closer, it reminded me of the shops that I’d seen in hospitals back home- more like a small pharmacy than anything. A few cards of varying descriptions and a scattered array of medical items, ranging from over the counter medications I didn’t recognize to vitamin supplements to a variety of diagnostic devices. Interestingly, on a group of shelves towards the back of the shop, I could see a variety of boxes labeled ‘e-stim’. Was that for trainers that had Electric type Pokemon?
We found seats in an area that was relatively vacant. Jive practically flowed up the chair to Blake’s shoulders, while Devi settled down in the chair next to his partner, placing a foot on the other knee and leaning back. I noticed, however, that he didn’t stop scanning the room or watching various trainers and their Pokemon.
“Where are Mika and Noble, by the way?”
I hadn’t seen Blake’s Corvisquire or Bolthund in a while; specifically, since I’d seen them training yesterday. In answer, he patted the Pokeballs at his side- the black and blue of Noble’s ball, and the yellow of Mika’s.
“Noble doesn’t like crowds, and Mika gets too excited. They tend to stay in their Pokeballs in places like this, unless they need to be out for one reason or another.”
“An Electric and a Flying, friends.” I mused. The two were close, given that they tended to spend all their time outside of their balls together when they weren’t fighting. “How did that happen, anyway?”
“Would you believe that I caught them together?” I gave Blake a startled look, and he grinned. “Okay, now, picture this.” he leaned forwards, gesturing with his hands. “Devi and I-” Devi looked over at the mention of his name, then turned back towards the wider room. “- are in a field, yeah? This was back when he was a raboot, and Jive was still a zigzagoon. Anyway, we hear something happening, some big commotion, so we go over. And what do we find? A little rookidee and a yamper fighting it out with a buncha charjabug!”
“Isn’t that-?”
“Bug and Electric? Yeah. So Devi and I are sitting there, watching this go down, bewildered. And we realize that the yamper is actually taking hits for the rookidee, shielding them from electric attacks. And then the rookidee is working closely with the yamper, swapping in to strike out at the charjabugs, shattering Bug type energy with Flying. They were doing such a fantastic job of tag-teaming a whole horde of the things that we forgot to step in until one of ‘em got a lucky hit on the rookidee!” Devi lets out an amused noise. “Yeah, I’m getting to that, mate, just hang on. So, Devi doesn’t have a weakness to Electric like the rookidee does, and he’s got a real advantage in that Fire typing is just as effective at unraveling Bug as Flying is. And, see, he’s real pissed that they actually managed to ruin what he thought was a fight that was cool as all get out.”
Devi looked away with a huff, though I could see the slight colouration in his cheeks under his fur. Jive chittered something at him that caused him to snap a glare around at the linoone, though that just seemed to tickle the Dark type even more. Blake shook his head with a grin.
“Don’t be like that, you had stars in your eyes, I know you thought it was cool. So, the rookidee bounces against the ground when one of them gets a hit off. The yamper is practically distraught, moves to shield them. And Devi? Devi’s so angry at that point I can feel the heat radiating off of him. So I give him the nod, and, instantly, he’s off like a meteor, slamming into the horde with an explosion of fire. And, see, the charjabug had been so tightly packed that when the explosion went off, they were sent flying in all directions, including up. So Devi’s standing there, heat coming off of him in waves, unconscious charjabug literally raining down around him, and he turns slightly and gives the yamper this look over his shoulder… and the yamper immediately trips and falls on their face.”
I snorted. I couldn’t help it, imagining a scene like that, like something straight out of an anime. Blake was smiling just talking about it, and I could practically feel the amusement radiating from both Devi and Jive.
“So, Devi helped them up, and I used a paralyze heal on the rookidee. I had a few spare Pokeballs sitting in the bottom of my bag, knew I couldn’t get by on just two Pokemon no matter how strong they were and I was on the lookout for new partners anyway. So I made the offer to the two of them, and they accepted, provided that they stay together. I didn’t have a problem with that in the slightest, and the two of them have been with me ever since.”
“It’s really fortunate that you found a pair like that, Flying and Electric are really versatile types.” I mused. “They must be really handy in duo battles, given how used they must be to working together.”
Blake gave me a brief look of surprise, then nodded. “Yeah. They’re in sync enough that most duo battlers can’t deal with them. While their opponents are tripping over each other, not having really trained to battle together, those two have been together practically since they were born- as near as I can figure from them, anyway. They’ve got a level of cooperation that I’ve rarely seen among other Pokemon teams, and I’ve seen quite a few high rankers.”
“Bet Mika’ll be sad when Noble finally evolves again. Corviknights are huge, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, over two meters, eighty kilos or so. I think they’re getting the most out of Noble riding on Mika’s back that they can now, before it’s not possible for them to do it anymore.” He snorted, smiling. “Of course, the moment it does happen, I think that just means that either Mika will find a way to ride on Noble’s back, or they’ll just be incredibly stubborn and keep trying to do what they did before.”
I winced. “Ohhh, that’s not going to turn out well.”
He shrugged in response. “Eh, they’re not reckless, nor stupid, just stubborn as all hell. They’ll try it once, figure that it won’t work anymore, then immediately move on to figuring out something else. Still, that’ll be a long way off- Noble’s not ready for evolution, not yet. Been prepping him with iron for when it finally happens and the feathers come in, but everybody I’ve taken him to says that he won’t be ready for it for a while yet.” His eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his hat. “What about you? Thought about picking up more partners?”
I frowned. It was a question I’d thought about, yeah, but only insofar as I had additional Pokeballs I’d gotten from Jen. I knew that if I really wanted to try for the Gym circuit, and maybe even the League, then I needed more than a single Pokemon to carry me all that way. Despite that, however, I hadn’t exactly considered what I was going to do about it. Was I going to chase down specific Pokemon? What types would I even be aiming for?
“I guess…” I paused, turning it over in my head. “I guess that I haven’t really thought about it farther than the basics. I need to, I can’t make Drake do all the fighting on his own, and I know I’m going to run into situations where he’s not ideal or his pure Dark typing won’t be able to cope. But as to how I’m going to go about that?” I shrugged. “No idea.”
“Well, given your skill at training and commanding Dark types, I’d say that the guess that you used to be a Dark specialist might be spot on.”
I gave him a somewhat bewildered look. “What do you mean?”
“A week ago, I’d say that Drake was… maybe a high two, low three? Powerful, with impressive natural talent and somewhat honed by his trainer before you, but still untempered. Within a week, you turned him into something that’s frankly monstrous. Hell, that battle with Fantina was nearly a rank four, and the two of you blasted through it with shocking ease.”
I let out a hiss. “Certainly didn’t feel like it. More felt like we were hanging on by the skin of our teeth by much of the battle, especially in the last match.”
“Not from where I was standing. You mulched the first match when they had a type advantage on you, dealt with the strategy of the second without real trouble, then stood up to a Pokemon that should’ve by all rights shown you the door and managed to pull out as close to a perfect victory as I’ve seen.” He glanced at me. “No offense.”
I flicked my hands, shaking my head. “None taken. Honestly, I’m shocked that we managed to pull out a win in that third match. Drake was down to a third, maybe a quarter? That misdreavus was fresh and the ace, toughest of the lot. If they hadn’t tried that feint that backfired on them…” Blake gave me a look that I couldn’t identify, but it was gone before I could really catch it beyond a glimpse in the corner of my eye. “Well, anyway. That provided an opening we exploited, but Drake having that breakthrough is what clinched it. Let him get close enough to land a really significant blow, really turn the tide of the battle. Without that, even with the feint turning back on them, I think we would’ve lost in a slow grind of endurance.”
“Most likely, yeah. It wouldn’t have been either of your faults, at that point; there’s just only so much you can do before your Pokemon just runs out of steam. That’s why so much of Pokemon training is just good diet and building their reserves, you’d be surprised how many battles are decided by whos tank just runs dry first. Techniques take a lot from any Pokemon, s’why battles tend not to go for very long. There’s just no Pokemon out there that can just keep fighting on and on.” He shifted, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well… no Pokemon that would willingly let itself be caught, at least.”
I hummed. “Yeah… also why I need a larger team. Learned that lesson.”
“How so?”
“You remember the fight with that one trainer I told you about?” He nodded. “Well, right at the beginning, before we’d even fought her first Pokemon, I realized the position we were in. She had a team, and the guy behind us that was backing her up had a full team. I realized, standing there, that even if I was sure that Drake could win the first fight, was I so sure about the fight after that? What about the one after that, and the one after that?”
I tensed my hands in my lap, thinking about it. If I’d not realized exactly how bad our position had been and elected to not play fair right from the beginning, they’d have taken Drake from me, and there would’ve been nothing I could’ve done about it. They knew they could just wear Drake down with battle after battle until he finally collapsed. If I hadn’t directed Drake to take her belt and run the moment that her electrike went down…
“Hey.” I twitched at the hand on my shoulder, Blake looking concerned. “It’s alright. You made it out okay.”
I felt something wet against my hand, and looking down, I realized that Jive had licked me. The linoone looked up at me, then nosed his way under my hand. I started petting him, and I couldn’t help but make a little smile.
“Yeah, thanks, seriously.” The smile vanished again as I looked towards the middle distance, staring through the chair opposite me. “Still, it… that was a wake up call. Just the knowledge that it didn’t matter how strong Drake was as an individual, he was still just one Pokemon, and there were just things that he wouldn’t be able to deal with alone.” I nodded to myself. “I’ll look as Drake and I cross Coronet. Maybe we could find another partner to accompany us.”
“Ah. About that, then. You’re headed to Oreburgh, right?”
“Yeah. Well, technically my destination is Sandgem, but Oreburgh is a stop on that path, provided I don’t want to hoof it through the sheer wilderness in search of a faster route.”
And I wasn’t. I’d heard enough hiker horror stories back home, where your average critter on the side of the trail didn’t have powers and wasn’t stronger than an adult human. You hear enough about disappearances, and you get somewhat wary about venturing off-trail.
“Well, I find that I’m headed in the same general direction. If you wouldn’t mind, I think the five of us would like to accompany you at least as far as Oreburgh, figure out where we’re going after that.”
… Well, I’d be an idiot to turn down a powerful trainer intending to come with me through such a dangerous part of the region, yeah? Though…
“Don’t… you have anything better to do than follow a single badge trainer around?”
He grinned. “You’d be surprised. Anyway, whatever else, I feel invested, given how much time the team and I have poured into helping the two of you train. Maybe I want to see where this goes, and how far you go.” He shrugged. “Or maybe I want to see professor Rowan as well. My motivations are a mystery.”
“Even to yourself?” Well, I’d be a fool to say no. “If you want in, then I’m certainly not opposed to it. I think I was going to have a difficult time tearing Drake away from Jive and Devi, anyway, and vice-versa.”