Soup 3.3

Aaron Fulan

Petalburg Woods, Hoenn Region

The forest stretched all around us like an emerald sea. No matter where I looked, all I could find were browns and broad-leafed greens. It was honestly a little intimidating, being so far in the wilds with nothing but me, my friends, and my supplies. I had of course downloaded a map on my PokéNav as well as purchased a paper copy. I knew I was going the right way, but I felt that I'd underestimated what it'd be like to spend several weeks in the forest, especially considering that rangers seldom patrolled this deep.

Here, the days were short, the sunlight blocked out an hour or two earlier by the thick canopy. More than once, I'd overestimated the amount of daylight I had left and was forced to eat cold rations for the evening rather than set up a proper campfire in the dark. Every night, I had to spend a few minutes spraying the edge of my sleeping area with a repel to deter wild pokémon.

And wasn't that itself a balancing act? Placing repels could be tricky. I had to be mindful of Jeanne's sensitive nose and make a wider ring around the camp than I would prefer; otherwise, she'd never sleep and by extension ensure I wouldn't either. There was a balance in quantity of use as well. Too little and it'd go ignored. Too much and… well… it wasn't unheard of for strong pokemon to decide they'd rather end the nuisance than avoid it. You could only wave a stink bomb so long before someone stepped up to kick your ass after all.

All that to say, camping off-route like this was an interesting experience. I learned a lot, as much from guides recommended by rangers as from trial and error, but I decided I'd be happier sticking to the routes from now on. It wasn't that the Petalburg Woods were all that dangerous, not the section I was in, but all this green was starting to grate on my patience a bit. How did sailors do it? Staring at nothing but blue and more blue…

Jeanne, Artoria, and I ambled along south to Oldale. As always, both pokemon were doing some precision training exercises. Jeanne had taken to building up a small marble of electricity with her tail and juggling it between her newly evolved arms while she walked. Coordination and control in one simple exercise.

Artoria spun her spoon in elaborate patterns around herself like something out of a marching band, each twirl sending ribbons of Reflect and Light Screen spiraling through the air. Every so often, Jeanne and I would flick light Thunder Shocks and pebbles at her in an attempt to trip her up. Her precognition was improving, enough so that she could easily deflect all but Jeanne's fastest Thunder Shocks without breaking stride.

I myself spent most of my morning stretching my mind and tagging different nearby pokemon to see if there was any who might make a good teammate. With their training so far along, I figured a third member of the team would be timely.

I saw a great deal of biodiversity, far more than in the games, but none I wanted to claim for myself. Shroomish, oddish, bellsprout, sunkern, and hoppip were given considering we were in a grass type paradise. Once, I even saw a tropius lazily grazing from the canopy. There were also a fair number of bird pokemon like pidgey and spearow as well as swablu, taillow, and the occasional independent natu.

And yet, I rejected them all for one reason or another. Despite popular depictions, pokemon weren't all battle-nuts. Or if they were, not in the way I needed. Most pokemon wanted to be stronger on some level, but so did most humans. In the same way that everyone wants six pack abs, every pokemon wants to evolve; it just so happens that like with humans, few are willing to commit.

MoreI needed ambition. I didn't just want a power-hungry pokemon, I wanted someone who had a dream to chase. Was it a shonen cliche? Sure, but I lived in a shonen world. Friendship had real power here, and one of the best ways I knew of to build friendship was to pursue a dream together. If that meant I ended up with nothing but oddballs on my team, then so be it.

Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, I needed dedication. I needed someone who was so desperate to achieve their dreams that they'd abandon everything they knew to pursue it. I wanted a pokemon who wanted us.

Power. Dream. Dedication. In that specific combination? I as starting to find that such a thing was exceedingly rare in even the more combat-oriented pokemon we'd come across.

So I searched, challenged, and observed, again and again until the sun was high in the sky.

Then I got bored of doing that, so I too drew my bokken, except I was more concerned with focusing any psychic aura through my sword, never mind a specific move. I tired myself quickly, a mental ache I could feel in the form of a throbbing migraine, but a late lunch perked me right back up.

And then, with my psychic power thoroughly expended, I had nothing to occupy myself with on my walk. For lack of anything else to do, I struck up a conversation with my partner. 'Say, Artoria.'

'Yes, my liege?' she asked through the bond, more humoring me than anything. To her credit, her spiraling routine didn't pause for a moment.

'You sure you have no interest in contests? Because I'm pretty sure you'd make a kickass dancer.'

'None whatsoever. The only approval I require is yours.'

'Aww, that's sweet,' I cooed, giving her a mental hug. 'So how do you feel about Jeanne's evolution so far? You two have had a few spars now and I figure you have a good idea of her potential.'

'Her stamina is impressive,' she admitted. 'Every aspect of her electrokinetic abilities improved, but it is her staying power that has allowed her to close the gap with me. I ought to work even harder if I wish to remain ahead.'

'That right? That's about my thoughts as well. She's gotten really good at switching off between her electric attacks and Protect. It's good that she can swap between offense and defense on a dime since she's much less mobile than you are.'

'Indeed. Will you teach her Magnet Rise soon? I recall seeing it in your memories and a move which allows electric types like her to fly seems too useful to ignore.'

'I might, but not immediately. She's got plenty to work on without me throwing more on the fire.' Then I decided to rib my adorable knight, just a bit. 'So you're not upset she evolved?'

'Why would I be upset at having a more capable friend?'

'Well, she doesn't walk on four legs anymore.'

'I don't see what you're getting at.'

'You mean you're fine not having your glorious steed anymore?'

'I am not that petty,' Artoria huffed.

'Not even a little sad?'

'M-Maybe the next teammate will be an even better mount.'

'Hehehe, maybe. Think I should've asked mom for a Galarian ponyta?'

'No. Absolutely not. My desire for a steed is an insultingly shallow reason to pick teammates. I'd be insulting the ponyta to start, and you, for making you waste a favor to acquire one.'

'My Artoria is so grown up,' I mused fondly. 'I'm sure something interesting's bound to show up.'

'Of course,' she sniffed, 'we are destined for greatness.'

I was about to reply but a third mind brushed our bond. It was both alien and familiar, a likeness to our own that even the xatu's did not possess. We stiffened ramrod straight; there was absolutely no mistaking the presence of another member of the ralts line.

'-elp! Help!' I heard a distinctly male voice ring through my mind, practically hollering for anyone to hear.

'Artoria, let's go!' I called. It took us a second to pinpoint his position. He was moving relatively quickly in our general direction and had six black voids chasing after him. 'Dark types. Six.'

'I feel them, my lord.' She barked something to Jeanne, getting my flaaffy to turn towards the oncoming commotion with narrowed eyes. The orb of electricity she'd been juggling between her paws pulsed and grew as she fed it more power.

"Go on ahead," I told Artoria, committing myself to a battle. It was somewhat risky because we couldn't identify what they were beyond that they were dark types, but I knew better than to give orders that wouldn't be followed. This was the equivalent of a toddler screaming for help. Any adult who ignored that was scum, never mind a wannabe knight like Artoria. "Teleport. Jeanne and I will catch up. Save the ralts, then yourself. Don't try to engage all six on your own."

"Kir," she nodded in affirmation before vanishing in a flash of blue.

"Let's go, Jeanne."

"Flaaf!"

We sprinted through the foliage for several minutes. I barely paid attention to my immediate surroundings as I barreled into bushes and branches. My focus was on Artoria. She'd arrived in the nick of time, bringing her sword in a parry against a poochyena. That made sense. They were some of the most common predators in the forest and one of the few that traveled in packs.

Behind her, a male ralts stared up at her with his ass planted on the ground, unable to look away from my starter. His eyes widened in awestruck wonder as she twisted her grip, pirouetting against the dark type's jaws to force it into the dirt. A twist wrenched her spoon from its teeth and a final strike to the head knocked it out of the fight.

There were three more poochyena as well as a pair of mightyena that led them. I now knew what was going on: This was a test, a way to teach the youngest members of the pack how to hunt. Had circumstances been otherwise, the little ralts would be long dead. The biggest of them barked out a challenging snarl as Artoria hefted her spoon in chūdan no kamae, standard ready posture.

"Kirlia, kirlia-kir," I heard her reply.

'Save the ralts first,' I reminded her. I could feel the fire of her anger, a righteous wrath at something she considered less than chivalrous. It blazed an ugly red, as hot as I'd ever felt from her. I imagined it was akin to watching pit bulls run down a toddler.

'Understood,' she grunted.

She spat something that I couldn't quite catch, undoubtedly an insult, and slid back one step before allowing her knee to crumple. Then, from a half-crouch, she snagged the ralts by the scruff of his neck and blasted upwards in a Mana Burst.

The two mightyena were too slow to realize what she was doing. She rocketed into the trees and deposited the ralts on the nearest branch so he hung there like a towel on a clothesline. It would have been funny how he curled up to wrap around the wood if the situation wasn't so dire.

'Stay up there,' I commanded.

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'I can beat them.'

'Maybe, but you're not a berserker. You're a knight. You've saved the kid so wait.'

'As you wish, my lord,' she replied, resigned. I could feel the barely restrained frustration simmering beneath the surface.

'When we arrive, Jeanne is going to distract them. You use the distraction to teleport behind the second and end it in one hit.'

'As you say.'

We broke through the treeline seconds later. Despite our sudden arrival, catching two mightyena off guard was a fool's errand; their acute sense of smell had already alerted them that they had company. The larger of the two snarled something at its peer but never took its eyes off the kirlia in the tree getting ready to strike.

The second evolved dark type looked towards us and let out a threatening growl. To my shame, I had to admit that I shirked back a little. For an instant, that growl tugged at something primal in me, the part of my lizard brain that told me I was before a predator.

And then it vanished as Jeanne stepped forward, brilliant sparks dancing along the wool on her neck like the world's most dangerous feather boa. Evolution had given her a lot of self-confidence, enough to face her natural predator. Or was it that after the mother ursaring, a single mightyena and a handful of pups seemed far less threatening?

Regardless, that gave me the moment I needed to catch my breath and step up. My pokemon were willing to fight so I wouldn't let them down.

"Jeanne, Thunder Shock, barrage!" I called.

"Flaaf!" she yelled. The orb of electricity in her hand scattered. I'd initially planned on a single, overwhelming Electro Ball to knock a mightyena out of the fight but decided against it when I saw that surprise wasn't possible. The move still took too long for a flaaffy.

Jeanne's constant practice juggling orbs paid off. Instead of a single, strong shot, the orb of electricity in her hand scattered into two dozen minor blasts. None of them would take anyone down but against five opponents, I considered the tradeoff worthwhile.

The mightyena facing us was the only one that managed to fully leap clear. The three poochyena flattened themselves against the dirt but could not avoid everything. I winced as I heard them yelp in pain; it sounded far too much like crying puppies for my liking.

The larger mightyena that had been snarling up at Artoria almost escaped the salvo untouched, but couldn't quite twist out of the way in time to avoid a glancing blow against his rump. I doubted the singed fur could even be noticed against its natural dark coat.

That momentary distraction was enough. Artoria teleported behind it, Mana Edge primed and swinging. Her spoon landed with a dull crack against the back of its skull, sending it crashing to the ground.

And yet, it bounced back almost immediately as Artoria teleported to my side.

"Spore. Lock them down," I told Jeanne before transitioning to telepathy to convey my orders faster. 'I don't think you have enough psychic power to overwhelm a dark type yet, Arotria. Hit and run with Double Team and Teleport. After Jeanne sets the field, you're going to run interference while she snipes them down.'

'Yes, my lord.'

"Flaa-feeeee," Jeanne cried as the patches of wool on her head and neck expanded rapidly in volume. Spores of electrified wool detached themselves as she swung her head side to side, launching with considerable accuracy towards the pack.

This unusual attack was enough to severely hamper the poochyena. They could still move, but had to constantly watch their step. The two mightyena took that as their cue to split in separate directions, or they would have had Artoria not teleported right next to the smaller one, lashing out with a shoulder-check that knocked it into its leader.

"Mii!" it yelled in surprise.

"Kirlia!" Artoria's battlecry sounded through the grove, still more adorable than actually threatening.

The first mightyena let out an annoyed growl, probably a swear in pokespeak, and shrugged the lighter one off it. It then lunged over its companion towards Artoria, only for her to split into six clones. She didn't let up for a second. A dozen blows rained down on the mightyena as she flitted from place to place. She had all but replaced flight with teleportation. She was determined to overwhelm the dark type's innate resistance with quantity if not quality.

Jeanne played off that distraction perfectly, launching three Shock Waves to finish off the encumbered poochyena.

The lead mightyena lunged again; I could see the dark miasma cloaking its fangs. Kids in Hoenn learned early on that mightyena had one of the strongest bite force of any land-walking predator. If one of those Bites landed, Artoria could easily lose a limb.

Atoria continued their game of tag, never letting either lupine turn towards Jeanne without a harsh stroke to its sensitive nose. I could see the two mightyena grow increasingly frustrated with every miss. Their emotions were voids to me, but it was clear that they were becoming sloppy. One even used a downed poochyena as a springboard without noticing.

Then, one mightyena crunched down over the throat of a kirlia, only for the clone to vanish and reveal a sneakily hidden spore. It choked and coughed, pawing at its jaws to try and release the extra-dense wool caught in its teeth.

"Kir-li-AAA!" Artoria cried as she kicked off a nearby tree trunk. The trunk burst into a shower of splinters as her launch became too much for it to handle.

She used her full body as an axle and spun through the air like a pinwheel before bringing her sword down on the distracted mightyena's neck like a guillotine. A loud crack rang through the clearing and the mightyena was too unconscious to care about the wool in its teeth.

The second whirled towards Artoria to try and avenge its mate, but Jeanne didn't waste the opportunity. She bleated out a battle cry that was still more cute than fierce and an Electro Ball burst against its torso.

Her attack was only a little larger than a golf ball in diameter, but appearances could be deceiving. It was a tightly condensed ball of electrical energy, with so much stored energy that it could impart actual, physical force as it expanded. It became an explosion of sparks on collision, enveloping the mightyena fully with room to spare.

I heard the dark type cry out as it was blasted into the dirt. It sounded uncomfortably like a kicked dog, with that "keng" noise that almost made me feel like the bad guy.

'They are the ones chasing a youngling,' Artoria huffed. 'They have no room to complain now that someone stronger has come to do battle.'

'Yeah, I know. I just like dogs.'

'These are not the leal creatures you knew.'

'They're loyal, just not to us. Loyalty can come in many forms.'

'Is this truly the time for a lecture, my lord?'

'Hah, fine. Let's get out of here. Get the ralts down from the tree; he looks like one of my socks left to dry.'

'Rude,' she shot back, bemusement coloring her aura now that the danger had passed. 'He's bigger than a sock… probably…'

'Look at you making short jokes now. Wasn't so long ago that I stuffed you in my jacket pocket.'

'Hmph! One day, when I am a gardevoir, I shall remember that indignity.'

'You will,' I agreed, 'and you'll look back and laugh because I'll have taught you what good humor is like.'

'"Corrupted." The word you are looking for is "corrupted," my lord.'

Jeanne walked around the grove, swiftly zapping anyone still conscious back to dreamland. She reached one of the poochyena and tapped its snout with the tip of her tail. "Flaaf?"

"Hmm?"

"Flaaffy? Flaa?" she asked, gesturing to my belt.

"Oh, do I want a poochyena?"

"Flaf."

"Nope. Not really. I do like dogs, but I don't think Artoria's too fond of them and even if she was, I don't feel comfortable taking a pup from its parents… or whatever they are to each other."

It also helped that they weren't particularly strong pokemon. Unlike houndoom, the other dark-doge, mightyena fell behind in too many areas to be worth raising. I remembered using one in the games, but that came with Moxie as a hidden ability. I could hardly rely on game logic to see me through here. Raw potential wasn't everything, but I had to admit it played a significant factor in my mind.

Jeanne shrugged and loaded each of the downed pokemon with even more Cotton Spores after the round of Thunder Waves. They'd recover in short order and the spores would fall off, but we'd be long gone with the little ralts by then.

Speaking of, Artoria hopped down from the tree and landed by my side. She had the little one in her arms in a traditional princess carry, made easier by the fact that ralts were only a foot and some change tall. Not that Artoria was a giant either, but compared to him, her two feet and change was practically statuesque.

'I have returned, my lord,' she said in my mind. I could feel the moment she pulled the ralts' mind into our conversation. 'The little one is from a local coven but wandered off while feeling adventurous.'

'Is he now?' I hummed as I looked over the young ralts. He didn't even notice me looking, so focused was he on my starter. His crimson eyes were wide with the beginnings of hero-worship and I could see him curl deeper into her chest as she stood awkwardly. 'We should take him back then, eh? Does he have a name?'

'No. You know names are a human convention.'

She was right. Most psychics never adopted names when living in the wild, even social ones like the ralts line. This was because they sensed and referred to one another within the context of emotional and cognitive signatures. No verbal name in the world could be as distinct as a mental signature that encapsulated one's entire identity from birth to, in some precognitive cases, death. 'Fair, but I can't keep calling him "the little one" forever.'

'You'll just have to make do, my lord.' She gently pried the ralts from her chest. She coaxed, 'Come now, child. Stand on your own feet.'

He whined something unintelligible through the bond, a stream of emotions that didn't quite translate into words. What followed was a rapidfire exchange of emotions and impressions that doubled as a conversation for psychics. I didn't know what was said exactly, but I let them have their moment.

After a minute, I took out an oran berry, my pokemon were still sick of the stuff anyway, and passed it to the ralts, like giving a child a lollipop after a doctor's visit.

"Come on," I spoke aloud for Jeanne's benefit. "We should get out of here. Artoria, ask him if he knows where his coven is."

"Kir, kirlia? Kir-lia?"

"Ralts… Raalts."

'I asked,' she said in my mind as we began to walk in a seemingly random direction.

'And?'

'He does not know. He got turned around when he was running.'

'Lovely…' I sighed as Jeanne trotted beside me. "You did good, Jeanne. Your attacks are really coming together."

"Flaaf!" she bleated happily. Neither of my pokemon had taken a single hit in the entire exchange and it was almost entirely thanks to Jeanne's bevy of crowd control options. Cotton Spore. Thunder Wave. Salvos of electric attacks that could act as cover for Artoria. It hadn't been long, but my little lamb had already grown to be quite the artillery menace.

I reached down and scritched between a horn and ear, just where she liked best. I smiled as she cooed, slowing down so she could savor more of the sensation.

I decided to try and talk to the ralts directly. Now that he wasn't screaming his figurative head off, his mind felt noticeably distinct from Artoria's. It was far less organized, lacking a structure that came with both power and experience. Still, I at least had some experience communing with an immature psychic. 'Hey, can you hear me?'

Nonsense. I received nonsense in response, just a pulse of emotions and experiences that didn't quite fit into human language. Then the connection cut out for a moment and I got the distinct impression that he was gathering his thoughts, like someone who'd arrived in a foreign country and had to brush up on a language they'd only studied in high school.

'H-Hello, human,' he tried, only for Artoria to let out a mental cough.

'Lord. He is my sworn liegelord and master, the only man worthy of my blade,' she corrected. 'If you wish to follow the knightly path such as I, you too must find a lord worthy of your service.'

I tried, but I couldn't quite suppress a snort that was halfway between exasperation and fondness. 'Oh, is that what you two were talking about? Ignore her. I don't make Artoria call me "lord" and I'm definitely not going to make you do that. It's Aaron.'

'L-Lord Aaron?' the shy ralts tried, halfway between pleasing Artoria's sensibilities and my own insistence on informality. The result just confused him further.

'You know what? Sure. Whatever makes you comfortable. Just keep walking. We want to put some distance between you and the mightyena before they get themselves in order.' I was under no delusion that we could truly run from them, they could smell a target from a mile away, but we did thoroughly beat the fight out of them so I didn't think they'd come find us again if we put enough of a gap between us. 'Besides, I suspect your coven will find you without much trouble if we just keep wandering around.'

'Y-Yes, sir.'

I rolled my eyes goodnaturedly as we walked. I could see him taking every chance to glance towards Artoria. He tried to copy everything about her, from her confident gait to the way she mentally scanned for threats. He probably thought he was being subtle; the budding crush was adorable.

Then I saw his face burn red and I knew my thoughts weren't nearly as private as I'd hoped. It was a natural downside of being around immature psychics. It was all too easy for one to forget that the line was still connected.

'Oops, sorry,' I apologized as sincerely as I could. 'I shouldn't poke fun.'

'My lord enjoys being a reprobate,' Artoria added with a huff. 'Do not mind his wandering mind; humans are inherently disorganized creatures.'

'Awfully rude thing to say about "your lord."'

'The truth is a blade sharper than any. If my words sting, it must be because they ring true to your ears, my lord.'

'Do I need to tell him about your eating contest?'

Artoria almost tripped over thin air as I sent her an image of my vomit-soaked t-shirt, after ensuring my thoughts were private this time. 'T-There is no need for that!'

'Or of you in the mornings?'

'You've proven your point, my lord. I concede defeat.'

'Good,' I smiled, self-satisfied. 'Now, how big was your coven, kid?'

'O-One gardevoir, sir,' he stammered. 'Two kirlia and five more ralts.'

'Huh… That's smaller than I expected. Well, that's fine. How hard can it be to find your family?'

Author's Note

Does that ralts have a thing for strong, older women now? Yes, yes he does. Core memories and all that.

Have an animal fact: In Frozen II, Olaf the Snowman says that turtles can breathe through their butts. This is, in fact, true. Kind of. Strictly speaking, the term is cloacal respiration.

When a turtle hibernates, it will diffuse carbon dioxide out and oxygen in through its cloaca as its primary mode of respiration, which, yes, is the anus-analog.

Bonus fact: Turtles do not have diaphragms. They cannot because their shells keep their chests from expanding sufficiently.

Thank you for reading. To reach a wider audience, and because I enjoy a more forum-like setup to facilitate discussion, I like to crosspost to a wide variety of websites. You can find them all on my Link Tree: https://linktr.ee/fabled.webs.