I think I'd like to participate in this with the theme of "the relationship between people and pokémon." The prompts can be a light or dark interpretation of the phrase, I don't have a preference.
Fourth Anniversary Drabble Bingo
- Thread starter Negrek
- Start date
I think I'd like to participate in this with the theme of "the relationship between people and pokémon." The prompts can be a light or dark interpretation of the phrase, I don't have a preference.
Cherry_BombBees
flying in the name of love
- Pronouns
- he/she/they
- Partners
-
Excited to see some fills coming through already! It's great to see people enjoying their cards. I'm going to take a look at those later today, but for now, one more card for the pile:
@kyeugh
@kyeugh
| Unclaimed Starter | Archaeologist | Ball Guy |
| Kyurem's Priest | Komala | Failed Trainer |
| Stranded Ultra Beast | Tanoby's Descendant | Pokémon Photographer |
lichhen
gay
- Pronouns
- he/they/ze
- Partners
-
find my drabble thread here
currently posted 3/3!
drabble collection summary: all connected, these snippets are glimpses at the characters Bill, Quaxwell, Happiny, and Bergmite, as they each travel the mountain range between Pewter and Cerulean.
currently posted 3/3!
drabble collection summary: all connected, these snippets are glimpses at the characters Bill, Quaxwell, Happiny, and Bergmite, as they each travel the mountain range between Pewter and Cerulean.
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Blackjack Gabbiani
Merely a collector
- Pronouns
- Them
- Partners
-
https://forums.thousandroads.net/index.php?threads/sight-bingo-fic-sv-spoilers.1435/ Covered "Crystal Paradise, Crystal Prison"
Railgun
Johto trash.
Finally posted my first prompt for the bingo! Hope you guys enjoy!
forums.thousandroads.net
Pokémon - On Dark Nights (2023 Prompt Bingo)
For the Indigo League Champion, fighting crime on the side is easier with a sidekick. Especially if said sidekick is a certain redhead who is the son of Team Rocket's boss. A series of prompts featuring Lance and Silver investigating and fighting crime around the Johto region.
forums.thousandroads.net
Blackjack Gabbiani
Merely a collector
- Pronouns
- Them
- Partners
-
Pokémon - Time Enough (Bingo fic, SV spoilers)
The last Sada had seen of her fiancé was slamming the door in his face. She couldn't even remember what they had been fighting about. She'd headed to Zero Lab out of spite, hoping the beauty of science and hard work would clear her mind, but something had gone wrong. Something she could never...
forums.thousandroads.net
This one covers both
"The spouse that left" as well as "Does a hug from a robot feel warm?"
- Partners
-
Fine, let's do this, but no PMD.
silurica
All shall be well
- Pronouns
- They/Them
- Partners
-
Here's mine! Thank you for the card!
FauxFox
Wandering Fool
Can I have a card on dynamics within and between exploration teams in a guild? Just general themes, like rivalries and similar dynamics please.
unrepentantAuthor
A cat that writes stories.
I'd like to request a bingo card! I'd like the theme to be "Journey Trials" – the mundane, commonplace hurdles faced by a trainer on their first adventure.
- Partners
-
- Partners
-
All right, it's done. Blackout, full fic. The Monomyth sure made it hard to work with once I looked up what it really is, though.
Flyg0n
Flygon connoisseur
- Pronouns
- She/her
- Partners
-
Bingo!! Thundersnow, Heat Mirage, Drownin- I mean, Underground River!
forums.thousandroads.net
Pokémon - Welcome to the World of Pokemon! (Drabble Collection/Bingo)
This is where I will be posting all my Bingo prompts as I write them! Feel free to review or give light constructive critcism, though keep in mind I wrote these for fun. They're no doubt a little imperfect so I'd prefer not having critique be too too heavy! That said, any response is still...
forums.thousandroads.net
It's great to see people getting really into Drabble Bingo this year! We've given out more cards than ever before, and already gotten many wonderful fills. Congratulations to RJR Basimilus, Hanafuda, Blackjack Gabbiani, Cherry_BomBees, lichhen, silurica, Windskull, System Error, and Flyg0n for completing the challenge thus far! Special shout-out to RJR Basimilus for being the first to claim a bingo this year as well.
Every year I'm like "this is the year I comment on all the drabbles!" and every year fate thwarts me--I don't think I'll make it to everyone this year, either, but I hope I've got at least a few more comments in me!
@FauxFox
@unrepentantAuthor
Every year I'm like "this is the year I comment on all the drabbles!" and every year fate thwarts me--I don't think I'll make it to everyone this year, either, but I hope I've got at least a few more comments in me!
@FauxFox
| Friendly Competition | Guildmaster's Favorite | Trust Your Partner |
| Hazing | Team Laughingstock | New Teammate |
| Mentors | Rescuer Needs Rescuing | Climbing the Ranks |
@unrepentantAuthor
| Caught in the Rain | Heat | Bugs |
| Mud | The One that Got Away | Team Friction |
| Broken Bone | Totally Lost | Money Runs Low |
Blackjack Gabbiani
Merely a collector
- Pronouns
- Them
- Partners
-
Mine are a bit longer than "drabbles" but they're still pretty short. They all have the same spoilers in them though so know the SV endgame stuff before you read.
Spiteful Murkrow
Busy Writing Stories I Want to Read
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
- Partners
-
Whelp, it's all in "extended rough draft" state with minimal editing, but I'm back with another Drabble Bingo blackout this year, and another assortment of Like a Dragon drabbles. Granted, these all are heavily pushing the definition of "drabbles", but meh. Brevity's always been a known weakness of mine, and the extra meat on their bones will make polishing these later down the road a bit easier.
This year, I had a few drabbles that overlapped prompt-wise, so if you see a couple prompts that are represented more than once, that's why:
This year, I had a few drabbles that overlapped prompt-wise, so if you see a couple prompts that are represented more than once, that's why:
You stumble back and dig your feet into the ground a few paces away from an earthen ledge, panting as stray embers come out with your ragged pants as a stony gray lump rolls away, crashing through dried brush. You always hated fighting rocks like these. It’s almost as if their blows are made to get under your shell, and their sparks sometimes make your limbs lock up.
But you will not back down here. This Graveler is all that stands between you and a nesting ground in the highlands’ sun. Even if he holds the advantage, there is one of your own you’re counting on to tip the balance.
“Burn!”
You are a Turtonator, and while your kind might not look it, you are dragons by blood. And the bluish fire that streaming from your mouth right now is of a dragon’s might, which scorches even stones that even your normal fire can’t touch.
Beyond the flames, you see the Graveler wobble, and for a moment your spirits rise, thinking that you’ve at last bested him in your battle. Those hopes die with the sound of crashing earth, and then a blow that strikes you, noticeably harder than last time, square in your underbelly.
Everything seems to go by in a blur, as your feet leave the ground and you can see your limbs above you in the air, falling past the edge of the earthen bluff. You feel your shell hit something hard and then there’s a deafening blast, as your world is consumed by a plume of dirt and shredded grass.
You lay there stunned, and find that try as you might, you can barely move your limbs. As the cloud of debris clears, you see you’re lying flat on your back in a freshly-blasted crater, while up above you from the ledge, the Graveler looks down at you with a sharp harrumph.
“Yeah, I thought so. Go back to your hole and don’t pick fights you can’t win, shellhead.”
Sparks crackle around the Graveler briefly before he rolls off and leaves. You try to summon a Dragon Pulse to spew up as a parting shot, but it comes out as an inert puff of choked, bluish embers.
You hate to admit it right now, but you’ve been bested. With your strength spent, there’s little you can do than mount a retreat. You just don’t know what you will do after all of this. You’ve been struggling to move on from your meager territory for a while, and this Graveler was the best opportunity you found in ages. What hope do you have if you’re still being vanquished by foes that you thought weak?
… You don’t want to think about that right now. You just want to go back to your nest. To pull your limbs in, lick your wounds, and do anything other than think about your latest defeat.
“Nrgh…”
Right. Getting yourself off your back has always been tricky for you and others of your kind. And in your present state, this could take a while.
About an hour later, you’re trudging back for your nest, in a small patch of lowlands kept in shade most of the day by the bluffs that surround it. The first territory you were able to secure after going off on your own after hatching, and much to your embarrassment, the only one since. Your limbs still smart from your loss and so does your pride—not that thinking about the time it’ll take to grow back the scuffs left on your shell from the earlier blast exactly helps.
You just don’t understand what you could be doing wrong. Beyond the fire and poison air that pour from their snouts, Turtonator are supposed to wield a dragon’s might, and can quite literally blow their foes away with explosive blasts. It’s more than enough for others of your kind to throw their weight around as they need… so why is it so different for you?
You make the final approach to your nest of charred brush, where the stones you sometimes heat up to perch on during chillier nights are set out, only to pause as you hear movement coming from its direction. You push the brush back, where much to your alarm, you see a human with long hair worn in a bob poking at it alongside a black-and-gray lizard of some sort.
Those two are rooting through your nest! After everything that’s happened today, you can’t lose your own territory too on top of it all!
“Hey! Get away from there, you little thieves!”
You spew a gout of fire overhead, as a first and only warning shot. The human yelps and tumbles away from your nest, her companion by contrast scuttles forward and flares a pair of appendages at the back of its neck as an orange streak on its back comes alive, hissing back at you in defiance.
“Hey! Back off from her!”
The creature reflexively builds fire in its mouth and you can’t help but blink with a start. This little lizard thing, male you’re guessing from the cadence of its voice… is a firebreather like you?
The human calls out something in the distance, and the lizard hastily smothers his flame, and violet gunk of some sort takes its place.
“Eat poison, chump!”
The lizard spews a sickly-looking glob which strikes against your underbelly’s shell. It stings more than you expected, but you hurriedly brush it away, and eager to let it be known that you won’t lose to a little runt like him, you answer with a sharp snarl.
“Do you really think that’s going to be enough to get the best of me?!” you bellow. “Let me show you how mistaken you are!”
You summon dragonfire in your throat, and briefly hear your foe cry out and try to dart away, before you spew out a Dragon Pulse again in a sweeping arc. It catches the lizard and sends it tumbling back, and you hear his human yelp with a start. You whirl about and glare at her, starting forward with a low growl.
“Like I was saying earlier, get away from-!”
There’s a blue glint in the corner of your eye, when you suddenly feel burning pain along the side of your face. You thrash and bellow before the heat lets up, before flopping to the ground. You woozily get up and see on one end is the human fumbling through her, while on the other is the lizard, glaring at you with bluish flecks curling up from around his snout.
Your eyes widen in realization. There’s only one way that that fire could’ve made you feel such pain…
“W-Wait a minute, you can wield dragonfire too-?”
Something strikes against your shell and the world around you abruptly whites out and you find yourself in an empty space. You don’t know what happened and you can’t make sense of direction or up or down, but you know you’re at least not falling. And so, you turn your head up towards what you presume is the sky and let out a defiant growl.
“Hey! You’re not getting rid of me so easily!”
You spew out a gout of fire, and the white space briefly flickers along with a glimpse of the sky. Things go back to the white space and you try again, but this time, from the corner of your eye, you begin to see translucent images of what looks like a territory not wholly unlike your own forming around you.
“Huh?!”
Those images vanish again and everything goes white as your nest and your shaded territory reappear once again. There’s a faint crunch and you pull yourself up to see a crushed red-and-white ball below your underbelly.
You look back towards the human who is starting to run, when the lizard creature with her tugs and motions at you. Your eyes briefly meet as you get up and hold your fire in a moment of curious confusion.
“Hey, wait! What did you do to me?” you bark. “What was that place in that ball-?”
She lobs another ball at you, when you realize that it’s one of those ones that humans keep the Pokémon that go around with them in, the same one that you’ve heard others in these mountainous plains sometimes sneeringly call their ‘pets’. This one glances against your leg before once again, the world around you vanishes into a flash of white. You ready fire to try and burst out a second time, only to have your mind turn back to the translucent images you saw towards the end last time.
What were those? And what would happen if you waited a bit longer before breaking out of this space again?
You hold your fire, still antsy and ready to turn your might to the unseen sky at a moment’s notice when the translucent images begin to return again, and moment by moment, grow more visible and solid in appearance. It’s a volcanic plain much like the one you live in, except it’s under a blue sky and looks well lit by the sun.
“What the…?”
You tentatively put out a claw and brush at the grasses, which feel a bit stiffer than expected to the touch. Something about the temperature in the air is also a bit off, but all things considered, you’d have taken this place over your current territory in a heartbeat.
It occurs to you that this is all inside that little ball, which looked just like the other one you crushed moments before. What on earth did it do to you? Are you still alright? You look up in the sky, where you see translucent images in it. Of tall grasses, and a giant purple eye glimpsing down on you.
“Gah!”
You flinch and recoil as the images in the sky are replaced with a human hand and glimpses of your nest starting to come into view. You’re starting to get nervous now, and build up fire in your throat to break your way out, when you swear you hear the lizard’s voice faintly coming from above.
“Let me try and smooth things over.”
You falter briefly, as things go white again, the well-lit plains melting away back to your nest and its shaded surroundings. You reflexively lumber forward and turn back to see the human standing back warily and the lizard approaching you, as you raise your claw and point off at the ball in her hand with a nervous start.
“Wh-What on earth was that?”
“A Pokéball. They’re places where Pokémon that partner with humans like me can rest.”
You suppose that you’d heard stories about such things before, but you didn’t realize that they’d have so much space.
“B-But there was a whole plain in there! And-!”
“It’s all simulated. Convincing at times, but it’s all fake,” the little firebreather tells you. “The surprise wears off pretty quick once you get used to it.”
You shuffle back warily yourself, keeping a firm eye on the ball in the human’s hand. With the way you crushed the last one, it shouldn’t wouldn’t be hard to break and chase her off. Especially when she looked about ready to flee just about a minute ago.
The one thing that could stand in your way is the lizard standing between you and her. You’re… admittedly not as confident that you can defeat him as you were when you started battle. But before you resume battle, there’s one thing that you need to know.
“How did you use dragonfire like that?” you ask. “And so strong, too?”
“What? Never met a Salandit before?” the creature replies, brushing his scales with a satisfied smirk. “It’s something they can do when they’re stronger, and it comes easier when you’ve got a human to spot things you overlook in battle. I actually didn’t know that it’d work on you so well.”
“It didn’t work that well on me!” you huff back. “It just surprised me, that’s all!”
This ‘Salandit’ doesn’t bother to hide how he rolls his eyes at your reply. It annoys you a bit, but you can’t help but cast a curious glance at his human. She was the one who helped make it so strong?
You think back to the many defeats you’ve endured. Extra strength surely wouldn’t have hurt your chances for victory…
Could this gangly-looking creature really give you that?
“So… if I partner with your human… I’ll get to be stronger, too?”
“Well, yeah. And get patched up when you fall short. That’s part of the reason why we’re out here,” the little firebreather explains. “My human was looking for another partner to travel with since we were planning on visiting my old home soon and the last time we went the local Salazzle kept getting into my head with their pher— er… I was a bit outmatched, let’s just leave it at that.”
There’s more to this story than what the Salandit is telling you, especially with the mortified grimace on his face right now. Even so, the little firebreather is clearly no pushover. If they’re to be believed, the Salandit and his human want your strength to help them and you’ve impressed them.
… Part of you is telling you to go along, but this all just seems too good to be true.
“Okay, what’s the catch?” you demand, to which the Salandit gives a brief flick of the flaps on the back of his neck.
“I mean, you’d need to leave your territory here behind. And you won’t be able to hunt or pick fights as you please either since it’s the job of the human partner to make the call of when such things should happen,” the little firebreather explains. “Every Pokémon that leaves the wild to partner with Pokémon does that.”
You hesitate after the Salandit’s explanation. That’s… an awful lot to ask, and you’re not sure how on earth that will work. But the Salandit looks healthy and content enough, and it wouldn’t have grown so strong if the human treated him ill, right?
“Oh right,” the Salandit adds. “I guess one other catch is that humans sometimes have trouble knowing when they’re getting a bit handsy.”
You tense up. You just knew that there was a catch to all this.
“Handsy? What to you mean by-?”
The human draws for hesitantly and puts out a hand. You reflexively raise a claw to bat it away, only to stop and hesitate. Things turned out very different from your initial expectations when you waited on the inside of the Pokéball… what will happen if you do the same here?
You lower your claw and the human cups her head under your chin. You feel them scratch against your scales and can’t help but let out a quiet rumble in reply.
You don’t know how well she can understand you, but if this is what the Salandit meant by getting ‘handsy’... you could get used to this.
“... If you’re still not convinced, my trainer will let you go from the ball and we’ll part ways,” the Salandit says. “Mine and most others know better than to knowingly try to force a Pokémon that doesn’t want to partner with them to come along. And this is your nest right here, isn’t it?”
You cast a brief glance at the nest and the ever-present shade bathing it. The one that you’ve been trying so hard to leave behind and replace with something different.
You realize that it’d be a bit of a leap of faith, but in the end there’s only really one thing keeping you from making the plunge. If they really want you to partner with them, isn’t it worth raising the question, just in case?
“Tell your human that I’m in, as long as I get to bring my warmth-rocks from my nest before we leave.”
But you will not back down here. This Graveler is all that stands between you and a nesting ground in the highlands’ sun. Even if he holds the advantage, there is one of your own you’re counting on to tip the balance.
“Burn!”
You are a Turtonator, and while your kind might not look it, you are dragons by blood. And the bluish fire that streaming from your mouth right now is of a dragon’s might, which scorches even stones that even your normal fire can’t touch.
Beyond the flames, you see the Graveler wobble, and for a moment your spirits rise, thinking that you’ve at last bested him in your battle. Those hopes die with the sound of crashing earth, and then a blow that strikes you, noticeably harder than last time, square in your underbelly.
Everything seems to go by in a blur, as your feet leave the ground and you can see your limbs above you in the air, falling past the edge of the earthen bluff. You feel your shell hit something hard and then there’s a deafening blast, as your world is consumed by a plume of dirt and shredded grass.
You lay there stunned, and find that try as you might, you can barely move your limbs. As the cloud of debris clears, you see you’re lying flat on your back in a freshly-blasted crater, while up above you from the ledge, the Graveler looks down at you with a sharp harrumph.
“Yeah, I thought so. Go back to your hole and don’t pick fights you can’t win, shellhead.”
Sparks crackle around the Graveler briefly before he rolls off and leaves. You try to summon a Dragon Pulse to spew up as a parting shot, but it comes out as an inert puff of choked, bluish embers.
You hate to admit it right now, but you’ve been bested. With your strength spent, there’s little you can do than mount a retreat. You just don’t know what you will do after all of this. You’ve been struggling to move on from your meager territory for a while, and this Graveler was the best opportunity you found in ages. What hope do you have if you’re still being vanquished by foes that you thought weak?
… You don’t want to think about that right now. You just want to go back to your nest. To pull your limbs in, lick your wounds, and do anything other than think about your latest defeat.
“Nrgh…”
Right. Getting yourself off your back has always been tricky for you and others of your kind. And in your present state, this could take a while.
About an hour later, you’re trudging back for your nest, in a small patch of lowlands kept in shade most of the day by the bluffs that surround it. The first territory you were able to secure after going off on your own after hatching, and much to your embarrassment, the only one since. Your limbs still smart from your loss and so does your pride—not that thinking about the time it’ll take to grow back the scuffs left on your shell from the earlier blast exactly helps.
You just don’t understand what you could be doing wrong. Beyond the fire and poison air that pour from their snouts, Turtonator are supposed to wield a dragon’s might, and can quite literally blow their foes away with explosive blasts. It’s more than enough for others of your kind to throw their weight around as they need… so why is it so different for you?
You make the final approach to your nest of charred brush, where the stones you sometimes heat up to perch on during chillier nights are set out, only to pause as you hear movement coming from its direction. You push the brush back, where much to your alarm, you see a human with long hair worn in a bob poking at it alongside a black-and-gray lizard of some sort.
Those two are rooting through your nest! After everything that’s happened today, you can’t lose your own territory too on top of it all!
“Hey! Get away from there, you little thieves!”
You spew a gout of fire overhead, as a first and only warning shot. The human yelps and tumbles away from your nest, her companion by contrast scuttles forward and flares a pair of appendages at the back of its neck as an orange streak on its back comes alive, hissing back at you in defiance.
“Hey! Back off from her!”
The creature reflexively builds fire in its mouth and you can’t help but blink with a start. This little lizard thing, male you’re guessing from the cadence of its voice… is a firebreather like you?
The human calls out something in the distance, and the lizard hastily smothers his flame, and violet gunk of some sort takes its place.
“Eat poison, chump!”
The lizard spews a sickly-looking glob which strikes against your underbelly’s shell. It stings more than you expected, but you hurriedly brush it away, and eager to let it be known that you won’t lose to a little runt like him, you answer with a sharp snarl.
“Do you really think that’s going to be enough to get the best of me?!” you bellow. “Let me show you how mistaken you are!”
You summon dragonfire in your throat, and briefly hear your foe cry out and try to dart away, before you spew out a Dragon Pulse again in a sweeping arc. It catches the lizard and sends it tumbling back, and you hear his human yelp with a start. You whirl about and glare at her, starting forward with a low growl.
“Like I was saying earlier, get away from-!”
There’s a blue glint in the corner of your eye, when you suddenly feel burning pain along the side of your face. You thrash and bellow before the heat lets up, before flopping to the ground. You woozily get up and see on one end is the human fumbling through her, while on the other is the lizard, glaring at you with bluish flecks curling up from around his snout.
Your eyes widen in realization. There’s only one way that that fire could’ve made you feel such pain…
“W-Wait a minute, you can wield dragonfire too-?”
Something strikes against your shell and the world around you abruptly whites out and you find yourself in an empty space. You don’t know what happened and you can’t make sense of direction or up or down, but you know you’re at least not falling. And so, you turn your head up towards what you presume is the sky and let out a defiant growl.
“Hey! You’re not getting rid of me so easily!”
You spew out a gout of fire, and the white space briefly flickers along with a glimpse of the sky. Things go back to the white space and you try again, but this time, from the corner of your eye, you begin to see translucent images of what looks like a territory not wholly unlike your own forming around you.
“Huh?!”
Those images vanish again and everything goes white as your nest and your shaded territory reappear once again. There’s a faint crunch and you pull yourself up to see a crushed red-and-white ball below your underbelly.
You look back towards the human who is starting to run, when the lizard creature with her tugs and motions at you. Your eyes briefly meet as you get up and hold your fire in a moment of curious confusion.
“Hey, wait! What did you do to me?” you bark. “What was that place in that ball-?”
She lobs another ball at you, when you realize that it’s one of those ones that humans keep the Pokémon that go around with them in, the same one that you’ve heard others in these mountainous plains sometimes sneeringly call their ‘pets’. This one glances against your leg before once again, the world around you vanishes into a flash of white. You ready fire to try and burst out a second time, only to have your mind turn back to the translucent images you saw towards the end last time.
What were those? And what would happen if you waited a bit longer before breaking out of this space again?
You hold your fire, still antsy and ready to turn your might to the unseen sky at a moment’s notice when the translucent images begin to return again, and moment by moment, grow more visible and solid in appearance. It’s a volcanic plain much like the one you live in, except it’s under a blue sky and looks well lit by the sun.
“What the…?”
You tentatively put out a claw and brush at the grasses, which feel a bit stiffer than expected to the touch. Something about the temperature in the air is also a bit off, but all things considered, you’d have taken this place over your current territory in a heartbeat.
It occurs to you that this is all inside that little ball, which looked just like the other one you crushed moments before. What on earth did it do to you? Are you still alright? You look up in the sky, where you see translucent images in it. Of tall grasses, and a giant purple eye glimpsing down on you.
“Gah!”
You flinch and recoil as the images in the sky are replaced with a human hand and glimpses of your nest starting to come into view. You’re starting to get nervous now, and build up fire in your throat to break your way out, when you swear you hear the lizard’s voice faintly coming from above.
“Let me try and smooth things over.”
You falter briefly, as things go white again, the well-lit plains melting away back to your nest and its shaded surroundings. You reflexively lumber forward and turn back to see the human standing back warily and the lizard approaching you, as you raise your claw and point off at the ball in her hand with a nervous start.
“Wh-What on earth was that?”
“A Pokéball. They’re places where Pokémon that partner with humans like me can rest.”
You suppose that you’d heard stories about such things before, but you didn’t realize that they’d have so much space.
“B-But there was a whole plain in there! And-!”
“It’s all simulated. Convincing at times, but it’s all fake,” the little firebreather tells you. “The surprise wears off pretty quick once you get used to it.”
You shuffle back warily yourself, keeping a firm eye on the ball in the human’s hand. With the way you crushed the last one, it shouldn’t wouldn’t be hard to break and chase her off. Especially when she looked about ready to flee just about a minute ago.
The one thing that could stand in your way is the lizard standing between you and her. You’re… admittedly not as confident that you can defeat him as you were when you started battle. But before you resume battle, there’s one thing that you need to know.
“How did you use dragonfire like that?” you ask. “And so strong, too?”
“What? Never met a Salandit before?” the creature replies, brushing his scales with a satisfied smirk. “It’s something they can do when they’re stronger, and it comes easier when you’ve got a human to spot things you overlook in battle. I actually didn’t know that it’d work on you so well.”
“It didn’t work that well on me!” you huff back. “It just surprised me, that’s all!”
This ‘Salandit’ doesn’t bother to hide how he rolls his eyes at your reply. It annoys you a bit, but you can’t help but cast a curious glance at his human. She was the one who helped make it so strong?
You think back to the many defeats you’ve endured. Extra strength surely wouldn’t have hurt your chances for victory…
Could this gangly-looking creature really give you that?
“So… if I partner with your human… I’ll get to be stronger, too?”
“Well, yeah. And get patched up when you fall short. That’s part of the reason why we’re out here,” the little firebreather explains. “My human was looking for another partner to travel with since we were planning on visiting my old home soon and the last time we went the local Salazzle kept getting into my head with their pher— er… I was a bit outmatched, let’s just leave it at that.”
There’s more to this story than what the Salandit is telling you, especially with the mortified grimace on his face right now. Even so, the little firebreather is clearly no pushover. If they’re to be believed, the Salandit and his human want your strength to help them and you’ve impressed them.
… Part of you is telling you to go along, but this all just seems too good to be true.
“Okay, what’s the catch?” you demand, to which the Salandit gives a brief flick of the flaps on the back of his neck.
“I mean, you’d need to leave your territory here behind. And you won’t be able to hunt or pick fights as you please either since it’s the job of the human partner to make the call of when such things should happen,” the little firebreather explains. “Every Pokémon that leaves the wild to partner with Pokémon does that.”
You hesitate after the Salandit’s explanation. That’s… an awful lot to ask, and you’re not sure how on earth that will work. But the Salandit looks healthy and content enough, and it wouldn’t have grown so strong if the human treated him ill, right?
“Oh right,” the Salandit adds. “I guess one other catch is that humans sometimes have trouble knowing when they’re getting a bit handsy.”
You tense up. You just knew that there was a catch to all this.
“Handsy? What to you mean by-?”
The human draws for hesitantly and puts out a hand. You reflexively raise a claw to bat it away, only to stop and hesitate. Things turned out very different from your initial expectations when you waited on the inside of the Pokéball… what will happen if you do the same here?
You lower your claw and the human cups her head under your chin. You feel them scratch against your scales and can’t help but let out a quiet rumble in reply.
You don’t know how well she can understand you, but if this is what the Salandit meant by getting ‘handsy’... you could get used to this.
“... If you’re still not convinced, my trainer will let you go from the ball and we’ll part ways,” the Salandit says. “Mine and most others know better than to knowingly try to force a Pokémon that doesn’t want to partner with them to come along. And this is your nest right here, isn’t it?”
You cast a brief glance at the nest and the ever-present shade bathing it. The one that you’ve been trying so hard to leave behind and replace with something different.
You realize that it’d be a bit of a leap of faith, but in the end there’s only really one thing keeping you from making the plunge. If they really want you to partner with them, isn’t it worth raising the question, just in case?
“Tell your human that I’m in, as long as I get to bring my warmth-rocks from my nest before we leave.”
You’re sitting in the shade of your trainer’s tent, the desert sand rubbing against your scales as you look forward into a glow coming from a light from a bulky metal contraption. It’s supposed to be like those machines that humans like your trainer use to teach Pokémon new moves through their “tee-yem”s. This device supposedly behaves much the same, except it’s much bigger, the discs it uses are fashioned from a black material, and from the way the machine is dented and rusted in parts, you’re shocked if it’ll actually work. Especially here of all places, in the deserts south of Stow-on-Side, where human machines of much newer vintages regularly meet their end from the elements.
The light cuts out and the disc stops spinning. A set of human hands, belonging to a younger man with a brimmed hat grabs it. He looks at you as he takes the disc, which now has scratches and grooves it didn’t have at first, and looks down at you with an expectant smile.
“There! That should be it. What do you think, Gilbert? Feeling a bit more dragon-y right now?”
You grumble back about how it feels more like you’ve been staring into a light for too long and turn away. You suppose you ought to be happier right now. While it’s not the same place you grew up in Galar, the temperature is warm and the sun is strong, perfect conditions for a Heliolisk like you to bask.
Except, you have come here today with your trainer for work and if it’s like the other journeys of this sort closer closer to the human route further north you two have made in the past few days, you’ll be kept too busy to really be able to stop and enjoy it. It doesn’t make much difference since your words go over his head, as Pokémon’s words tend to do for humans. He tilts at you with a puzzled frown, before motioning over at the opening to his tent.
“... If you’re worried about picking up the move, try breathing in deeply and letting things out from your throat, Gilbert,” he insists. “The manual was a bit tatty, but the Technical Record said that’s how a Dragon Pulse is supposed to work.”
… That was hardly the point that you were trying to make, but after seeing your trainer breathe in and then out with his mouth opened wide, you glance at the label on the spent disc and notice that among the human glyphs on its bluish label is a circular design with something looking like a dragon’s head.
Perhaps if you humor your trainer, he’ll opt to rest a bit so that way you can get in a good bask. You mimic your trainer’s action when much to your surprise, heat builds at the back of your throat. Your mouth flops open wide, more from surprise than intention and a fiery blue ray comes out. It’s thin and makes it about halfway to some desert rocks a few paces from the tent before abruptly cutting out, barely singing the surface.
You tilt your head skeptically at the man in his brimmed hat. You gathered that he was unsure about how you two would fare going about searching in this place when Pokémon that are unfazed by your sparks. They were a handful back on the around the Route, enough so that he felt being able to wield other power to deal with them was needed to venture further out.
You just don’t understand what he expects from you. Since you don’t see how you’re going to be able to make a difference with that.
“... I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. And who knows? If we’re lucky, maybe you won’t need it.”
You grunt and press on out of the tent with a sigh. You see your trainer stop and grab a bag with a few tools set beside it. A pick, a shovel, a camera.
Tools to try and find the treasure that he seeks.
Now, when most humans and Pokémon think of treasure, they might think of shining gems or the like, but the treasure your trainer seeks is apparently the bygone remains left behind by humans from another age. Quite a few exist in the ruins on Route 6 proper, with the remains of ancient buildings, and tall statues of people and Pokémon alike. But for reasons you don’t understand, none of them were to your trainer’s liking and thus your search has taken you two southward, off the stony bluffs and deep into the sands.
Your trainer seems to think you’d be excited to be here. And while it is a pleasing place to be in with the warmth or the sun soaking in and invigorating you…
“Heeeeey! Gilbert! Did you find anything?”
You’re constantly moving about and it keeps you from being able to stop and enjoy it. You pull in your frill with a sigh, your latest attempt at a bask cut short as you turn back from a small pile of rocks and trudge up a dune to meet your trainer. He looks at you expectantly, and then down at your tracks before he lets out a disappointed sigh.
“Hm… yeah, I didn’t find anything either. Though give that Dragon Pulse of yours a try and let’s move on.”
You tilt your head at your trainer when he points off along the ridge. He repeats that phrase—Dragon Pulse—when it occurs to you that he wants you to practice your new move again. You oblige, since if you put up a good showing, perhaps you can use it to convince your trainer to let you bask without him thinking you’re tired and pulling you into your Pokéball instead.
You build up heat at the back of your throat, and once again, the stream of blue dragonfire comes out. At once, you’re underwhelmed by how thin its ray is, and your aim is off, finding it’s mark in the sand and kicking up a small spray.
Normally that would’ve been the end of things, but this time, there’s a sharp yelp. You see a small yellow-and-black figure tumble away
“... Oops. Didn’t see that Helioptile there. Hope we didn’t scare it too bad.”
Well, you definitely weren’t trying to do that, especially since it wouldn’t take that much to rile up one of the You grimace and dart over, hoping to catch the Helioptile and offer an apology for the scare. By the time you arrive, he’s long gone, with the only sign of his presence being hurried footprints in the sand away, along with a black-and-yellow colored rock lying in it.
You stoop down and pick it up, eyeing it with a curious blink. Your trainer must’ve noticed you, since you hear his boots crunch against the sand, and his voice call out for yours.
“Oh? What do you have there, Gilbert?”
You turn and pass your finding along, as he raises it and inspects it. He flips the yellow-and-white surface towards himself, revealing the other side to be a ruddy color. Much like the sandstone in the ruins up the bluffs.
“Huh, strange. It looks like someone painted one end of it.”
Your trainer pockets the stone when it dawns on you: it might actually be just what you’re looking for. After all, the treasure your trainer apparently found all those past ruins lacking was some sort of ancient painting of some sort. Except… if it is a fragment of an ancient painting, why is there neither hide nor scale of any ruins nearby where it could have come from?
Could it be buried under the sand? Pokémon burrow into the earth sometimes to nest, so perhaps these humans did the same? You eye the surroundings, noting the Helioptile’s panicked tracks running off from where your Dragon Pulse struck. You don’t see anything there, when you turn to check the other side of the dune and abruptly stiffen up.
There’s footsteps there too, similarly frantic and looking like they were made in a hurry, along with parts where the sand is smooth and spread out in a plume, as if it were abruptly thrown out.
Like there would be if someone were giving chase to the Helioptile you ran into.
“Huh? Gilbert? What are you-?”
All of a sudden the sand below your feet erupts. You and your trainer yelp, and as you tumble down the dune, you throw out your frill and cast sparks all about you. They do nothing other than to draw a mocking hiss about how your kind evidently doesn’t learn after evolving. You freeze and turn, where there you see a Sandaconda approaching with fangs bared.
Your body tenses up and your mouth drops open with fright. You’ve never met a Sandaconda that wasn’t trained, but you know enough about them that in nature, they hunt for prey. Your mind turns back to the Helioptile tracks and see the way she eyes you with a piercing stare as you realize she’s changed her target to you.
You throw your frill out to make yourself larger and try to muster the largest-sounding voice back, which despite your best efforts still comes out with a stammer. You insist that you are companions with a human and you are not hers to take. That it is by divine providence that you and her leave each other’s lives be.
She snorts up a small amount of sand and gives a mocking sneer in reply as her words come out dripping with venomous threat: that you’ve already forfeited your protections, since you and your human should’ve considered that before cheated her out of her prey.
Whatever thoughts of trying to plead your case, they are cut off by her rearing up and throwing her body down to stomp the ground and throw you off your feet. You fall onto your side and hear your trainer’s voice, trying to get up with legs that now feel stiff and uneasy. You feel scales against yours, and in a panic, you throw sparks once more. It does nothing and in a flash, the Sandaconda’s body wraps around yours and starts to tighten as you thrash and frantically try to pull yourself free.
“G-Gilbert! Use Dragon Pulse!”
You hear your trainer’s cry, and without thinking build up dragonfire in your mouth, spewing it at the Sandaconda’s back near yours. She shrieks in pain and loses her grip as you dart off, scrabbling on all fours as you fight to keep balance. You briefly see her slither off hastily, her own movements frantic and unfocused as you see your trainer’s legs. He raises his Pokéball and shakily taps the center, as in a flash of light the desert outside melts away.
About an hour later, you’re back in the tent where the disc reader was, still shivering from your encounter as your trainer applies a Potion to damaged scales along your legs.
“I’m sorry, Gilbert. I should’ve known it was a bad idea to go this far off the beaten path on our own.”
The entire time, his expression is downcast, and every time your eyes meet, you can see a pang of guilt in his, as all thoughts about his treasure have faded away in the shock of your close call. It’s moments like these that you wish he could understand you better. You try to insist to him that it wasn’t his fault and that it was thanks to his direction that you were able to escape.
… You just wish that you had a way to repay the favor.
“Helio!”
You notice your trainer turn and freeze and look over to follow his gaze. There at the front of the tent are a quartet of Helioptile, tense and poised for battle. Their leader’s side frills are flared and he levels a claw and cries out to you:
To give him back his treasure. That he did not brave a predator’s territory to retrieve it only for it to get stolen by you.
“... Gilbert? Do you know what’s going on here? Why’s that one pointing at you like that?”
The leader Helioptile’s voice comes out shaky, and a closer examination reveals him to be trembling, with his companions similarly nervous. Much like when you when you faced the Sandaconda, they seem nervous about their odds of pulling through.
Fortunately for you and them, you’re sure that you can resolve things on a more peaceful note. You and reach a hand into your trainer’s pocket, before pulling out the yellow-and-black stone from earlier.
“Lisk?”
You take it and show it, which the Helioptile confirms is indeed his. You apologize for the earlier incident and are about to stoop down to return it, when you realize there’s something that you should ask first.
“He… lio?”
You ask from where the Helioptile found the stone, to which he and his companions reply that it came from the “Heliolisk of the Stone Wall”. You notice your trainer casting a befuddled look between you and the wild Pokémon when one of the Helioptile tilts his head and asks how you as a Heliolisk don’t know this yourself.
That one is easy to explain: you’re not from around here.
You hand the stone off and there’s a moment of hesitance among the Helioptile before their leader turns and motions for you to follow with his head.
“Tile! Tile!”
Those “Heliolisk of the Stone Wall” happen to be nearby here, he insists. And if you wish to have a treasure of your own, perhaps there’d be another one there… even if it might require a bit of digging since it periodically gets buried by the desert sand.
… You’re not sure how your trainer will take this, since blindly trusting the word of Pokémon you’ve just met is quite the leap of faith. But nevertheless, you tug at your trainer’s arm and motion off after the Helioptile yourself. It takes him a little, but it dawns on him as to what your request is.
“Huh? You want me to follow along? What’s going on, Gilbert?”
Roughly ten minutes later, you’re entering a set of ruined walls, half-buried in the sand, with an entrance through a ruined doorway with a clearance so low that your human has to stoop to enter. He makes it through and after the Helioptile point off at a sand-covered wall, your trainer follows along when he catches a glimpse of a corner.
It is then that his eyes light up in excitement.
“Ah! Gilbert! This is it! This is one of those murals we were looking for!”
You turn and follow his eyes as he comes across flecks of paint in a half-buried chunk of wall. He calls you over and begins to brush away the sand, as you two remove it, you begin to see worn depictions of squarish human structures and humans in strange garb. You breathe out a sigh of relief, happy that all your efforts over the past few days alongside your trainer haven’t gone in vain when your claws brush away some more sand, and underneath you come across a glimpse of black and yellow.
“H-Helio?!”
You cry out in surprise as you come across a Heliolisk alongside the human, with a missing chip along its neck. The Helioptile come over, saying that there’s more of them below the sand and offer to help you see more of the rest.
You accept, and as the sand gets pulled away more and more, you find yourself gaping in disbelief as you come across more and more paintings that resemble you on the wall. Paintings of Heliolisk and humans intermingled with one another. Others with Heliolisk marching alongside humans with shields and spears. One with Heliolisk standing guard over treasure as humans heap them up for counting.
There is one in particular that catches your eye: of a Heliolisk at a human warrior’s side alongside a Duraludon, spewing a ray of what looks like blue fire at a Garchomp, turned away and fleeing.
Is… Is that the same power that you learned today? Does it really have the strength when mastered to turn back such strong foes?
“Ah, this is exactly what I was looking for, Gilbert!”
You look up at your trainer confusedly as he comes over and stoops, patting your head.
“I had a feeling you’d like the murals we came across. The desert civilization that used to be out here is said to have introduced Heliolisk like you to Galar, and they were particularly valued by them.”
These people… brought your kind here? You find it a bit hard to believe, but the murals are clear. They cherished your kind enough to immortalize them in their history, and some way, somehow, gave the ones that dwelled with them the strength to fight and stand among the ranks of dragons.
You can’t help but feel a glimmer of pride and wag your tail and raise your head tall. There’s a moment’s pause, when you see your trainer look away briefly, and kick uneasily at the sand.
“I… just hope that this makes up for everything. Even before what happened today, you haven’t really seemed happy with me lately.”
So your trainer noticed all this time? If only he could’ve understood your words. Perhaps this all could’ve been cleared up on the first day.
It’s then that your eyes fall on the daylight coming down in the center of the ruins, through the gaping hole where the now-nonexistent roof is where the Helioptile are resting under its warmth. You make your way over, and settle in, frill flared out as you face towards the sun and turn back speaking up in your tongue with a quiet chuckle.
That you’ll call things even. As long as you get to properly soak in the sun for once today.
The light cuts out and the disc stops spinning. A set of human hands, belonging to a younger man with a brimmed hat grabs it. He looks at you as he takes the disc, which now has scratches and grooves it didn’t have at first, and looks down at you with an expectant smile.
“There! That should be it. What do you think, Gilbert? Feeling a bit more dragon-y right now?”
You grumble back about how it feels more like you’ve been staring into a light for too long and turn away. You suppose you ought to be happier right now. While it’s not the same place you grew up in Galar, the temperature is warm and the sun is strong, perfect conditions for a Heliolisk like you to bask.
Except, you have come here today with your trainer for work and if it’s like the other journeys of this sort closer closer to the human route further north you two have made in the past few days, you’ll be kept too busy to really be able to stop and enjoy it. It doesn’t make much difference since your words go over his head, as Pokémon’s words tend to do for humans. He tilts at you with a puzzled frown, before motioning over at the opening to his tent.
“... If you’re worried about picking up the move, try breathing in deeply and letting things out from your throat, Gilbert,” he insists. “The manual was a bit tatty, but the Technical Record said that’s how a Dragon Pulse is supposed to work.”
… That was hardly the point that you were trying to make, but after seeing your trainer breathe in and then out with his mouth opened wide, you glance at the label on the spent disc and notice that among the human glyphs on its bluish label is a circular design with something looking like a dragon’s head.
Perhaps if you humor your trainer, he’ll opt to rest a bit so that way you can get in a good bask. You mimic your trainer’s action when much to your surprise, heat builds at the back of your throat. Your mouth flops open wide, more from surprise than intention and a fiery blue ray comes out. It’s thin and makes it about halfway to some desert rocks a few paces from the tent before abruptly cutting out, barely singing the surface.
You tilt your head skeptically at the man in his brimmed hat. You gathered that he was unsure about how you two would fare going about searching in this place when Pokémon that are unfazed by your sparks. They were a handful back on the around the Route, enough so that he felt being able to wield other power to deal with them was needed to venture further out.
You just don’t understand what he expects from you. Since you don’t see how you’re going to be able to make a difference with that.
“... I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. And who knows? If we’re lucky, maybe you won’t need it.”
You grunt and press on out of the tent with a sigh. You see your trainer stop and grab a bag with a few tools set beside it. A pick, a shovel, a camera.
Tools to try and find the treasure that he seeks.
Now, when most humans and Pokémon think of treasure, they might think of shining gems or the like, but the treasure your trainer seeks is apparently the bygone remains left behind by humans from another age. Quite a few exist in the ruins on Route 6 proper, with the remains of ancient buildings, and tall statues of people and Pokémon alike. But for reasons you don’t understand, none of them were to your trainer’s liking and thus your search has taken you two southward, off the stony bluffs and deep into the sands.
Your trainer seems to think you’d be excited to be here. And while it is a pleasing place to be in with the warmth or the sun soaking in and invigorating you…
“Heeeeey! Gilbert! Did you find anything?”
You’re constantly moving about and it keeps you from being able to stop and enjoy it. You pull in your frill with a sigh, your latest attempt at a bask cut short as you turn back from a small pile of rocks and trudge up a dune to meet your trainer. He looks at you expectantly, and then down at your tracks before he lets out a disappointed sigh.
“Hm… yeah, I didn’t find anything either. Though give that Dragon Pulse of yours a try and let’s move on.”
You tilt your head at your trainer when he points off along the ridge. He repeats that phrase—Dragon Pulse—when it occurs to you that he wants you to practice your new move again. You oblige, since if you put up a good showing, perhaps you can use it to convince your trainer to let you bask without him thinking you’re tired and pulling you into your Pokéball instead.
You build up heat at the back of your throat, and once again, the stream of blue dragonfire comes out. At once, you’re underwhelmed by how thin its ray is, and your aim is off, finding it’s mark in the sand and kicking up a small spray.
Normally that would’ve been the end of things, but this time, there’s a sharp yelp. You see a small yellow-and-black figure tumble away
“... Oops. Didn’t see that Helioptile there. Hope we didn’t scare it too bad.”
Well, you definitely weren’t trying to do that, especially since it wouldn’t take that much to rile up one of the You grimace and dart over, hoping to catch the Helioptile and offer an apology for the scare. By the time you arrive, he’s long gone, with the only sign of his presence being hurried footprints in the sand away, along with a black-and-yellow colored rock lying in it.
You stoop down and pick it up, eyeing it with a curious blink. Your trainer must’ve noticed you, since you hear his boots crunch against the sand, and his voice call out for yours.
“Oh? What do you have there, Gilbert?”
You turn and pass your finding along, as he raises it and inspects it. He flips the yellow-and-white surface towards himself, revealing the other side to be a ruddy color. Much like the sandstone in the ruins up the bluffs.
“Huh, strange. It looks like someone painted one end of it.”
Your trainer pockets the stone when it dawns on you: it might actually be just what you’re looking for. After all, the treasure your trainer apparently found all those past ruins lacking was some sort of ancient painting of some sort. Except… if it is a fragment of an ancient painting, why is there neither hide nor scale of any ruins nearby where it could have come from?
Could it be buried under the sand? Pokémon burrow into the earth sometimes to nest, so perhaps these humans did the same? You eye the surroundings, noting the Helioptile’s panicked tracks running off from where your Dragon Pulse struck. You don’t see anything there, when you turn to check the other side of the dune and abruptly stiffen up.
There’s footsteps there too, similarly frantic and looking like they were made in a hurry, along with parts where the sand is smooth and spread out in a plume, as if it were abruptly thrown out.
Like there would be if someone were giving chase to the Helioptile you ran into.
“Huh? Gilbert? What are you-?”
All of a sudden the sand below your feet erupts. You and your trainer yelp, and as you tumble down the dune, you throw out your frill and cast sparks all about you. They do nothing other than to draw a mocking hiss about how your kind evidently doesn’t learn after evolving. You freeze and turn, where there you see a Sandaconda approaching with fangs bared.
Your body tenses up and your mouth drops open with fright. You’ve never met a Sandaconda that wasn’t trained, but you know enough about them that in nature, they hunt for prey. Your mind turns back to the Helioptile tracks and see the way she eyes you with a piercing stare as you realize she’s changed her target to you.
You throw your frill out to make yourself larger and try to muster the largest-sounding voice back, which despite your best efforts still comes out with a stammer. You insist that you are companions with a human and you are not hers to take. That it is by divine providence that you and her leave each other’s lives be.
She snorts up a small amount of sand and gives a mocking sneer in reply as her words come out dripping with venomous threat: that you’ve already forfeited your protections, since you and your human should’ve considered that before cheated her out of her prey.
Whatever thoughts of trying to plead your case, they are cut off by her rearing up and throwing her body down to stomp the ground and throw you off your feet. You fall onto your side and hear your trainer’s voice, trying to get up with legs that now feel stiff and uneasy. You feel scales against yours, and in a panic, you throw sparks once more. It does nothing and in a flash, the Sandaconda’s body wraps around yours and starts to tighten as you thrash and frantically try to pull yourself free.
“G-Gilbert! Use Dragon Pulse!”
You hear your trainer’s cry, and without thinking build up dragonfire in your mouth, spewing it at the Sandaconda’s back near yours. She shrieks in pain and loses her grip as you dart off, scrabbling on all fours as you fight to keep balance. You briefly see her slither off hastily, her own movements frantic and unfocused as you see your trainer’s legs. He raises his Pokéball and shakily taps the center, as in a flash of light the desert outside melts away.
About an hour later, you’re back in the tent where the disc reader was, still shivering from your encounter as your trainer applies a Potion to damaged scales along your legs.
“I’m sorry, Gilbert. I should’ve known it was a bad idea to go this far off the beaten path on our own.”
The entire time, his expression is downcast, and every time your eyes meet, you can see a pang of guilt in his, as all thoughts about his treasure have faded away in the shock of your close call. It’s moments like these that you wish he could understand you better. You try to insist to him that it wasn’t his fault and that it was thanks to his direction that you were able to escape.
… You just wish that you had a way to repay the favor.
“Helio!”
You notice your trainer turn and freeze and look over to follow his gaze. There at the front of the tent are a quartet of Helioptile, tense and poised for battle. Their leader’s side frills are flared and he levels a claw and cries out to you:
To give him back his treasure. That he did not brave a predator’s territory to retrieve it only for it to get stolen by you.
“... Gilbert? Do you know what’s going on here? Why’s that one pointing at you like that?”
The leader Helioptile’s voice comes out shaky, and a closer examination reveals him to be trembling, with his companions similarly nervous. Much like when you when you faced the Sandaconda, they seem nervous about their odds of pulling through.
Fortunately for you and them, you’re sure that you can resolve things on a more peaceful note. You and reach a hand into your trainer’s pocket, before pulling out the yellow-and-black stone from earlier.
“Lisk?”
You take it and show it, which the Helioptile confirms is indeed his. You apologize for the earlier incident and are about to stoop down to return it, when you realize there’s something that you should ask first.
“He… lio?”
You ask from where the Helioptile found the stone, to which he and his companions reply that it came from the “Heliolisk of the Stone Wall”. You notice your trainer casting a befuddled look between you and the wild Pokémon when one of the Helioptile tilts his head and asks how you as a Heliolisk don’t know this yourself.
That one is easy to explain: you’re not from around here.
You hand the stone off and there’s a moment of hesitance among the Helioptile before their leader turns and motions for you to follow with his head.
“Tile! Tile!”
Those “Heliolisk of the Stone Wall” happen to be nearby here, he insists. And if you wish to have a treasure of your own, perhaps there’d be another one there… even if it might require a bit of digging since it periodically gets buried by the desert sand.
… You’re not sure how your trainer will take this, since blindly trusting the word of Pokémon you’ve just met is quite the leap of faith. But nevertheless, you tug at your trainer’s arm and motion off after the Helioptile yourself. It takes him a little, but it dawns on him as to what your request is.
“Huh? You want me to follow along? What’s going on, Gilbert?”
Roughly ten minutes later, you’re entering a set of ruined walls, half-buried in the sand, with an entrance through a ruined doorway with a clearance so low that your human has to stoop to enter. He makes it through and after the Helioptile point off at a sand-covered wall, your trainer follows along when he catches a glimpse of a corner.
It is then that his eyes light up in excitement.
“Ah! Gilbert! This is it! This is one of those murals we were looking for!”
You turn and follow his eyes as he comes across flecks of paint in a half-buried chunk of wall. He calls you over and begins to brush away the sand, as you two remove it, you begin to see worn depictions of squarish human structures and humans in strange garb. You breathe out a sigh of relief, happy that all your efforts over the past few days alongside your trainer haven’t gone in vain when your claws brush away some more sand, and underneath you come across a glimpse of black and yellow.
“H-Helio?!”
You cry out in surprise as you come across a Heliolisk alongside the human, with a missing chip along its neck. The Helioptile come over, saying that there’s more of them below the sand and offer to help you see more of the rest.
You accept, and as the sand gets pulled away more and more, you find yourself gaping in disbelief as you come across more and more paintings that resemble you on the wall. Paintings of Heliolisk and humans intermingled with one another. Others with Heliolisk marching alongside humans with shields and spears. One with Heliolisk standing guard over treasure as humans heap them up for counting.
There is one in particular that catches your eye: of a Heliolisk at a human warrior’s side alongside a Duraludon, spewing a ray of what looks like blue fire at a Garchomp, turned away and fleeing.
Is… Is that the same power that you learned today? Does it really have the strength when mastered to turn back such strong foes?
“Ah, this is exactly what I was looking for, Gilbert!”
You look up at your trainer confusedly as he comes over and stoops, patting your head.
“I had a feeling you’d like the murals we came across. The desert civilization that used to be out here is said to have introduced Heliolisk like you to Galar, and they were particularly valued by them.”
These people… brought your kind here? You find it a bit hard to believe, but the murals are clear. They cherished your kind enough to immortalize them in their history, and some way, somehow, gave the ones that dwelled with them the strength to fight and stand among the ranks of dragons.
You can’t help but feel a glimmer of pride and wag your tail and raise your head tall. There’s a moment’s pause, when you see your trainer look away briefly, and kick uneasily at the sand.
“I… just hope that this makes up for everything. Even before what happened today, you haven’t really seemed happy with me lately.”
So your trainer noticed all this time? If only he could’ve understood your words. Perhaps this all could’ve been cleared up on the first day.
It’s then that your eyes fall on the daylight coming down in the center of the ruins, through the gaping hole where the now-nonexistent roof is where the Helioptile are resting under its warmth. You make your way over, and settle in, frill flared out as you face towards the sun and turn back speaking up in your tongue with a quiet chuckle.
That you’ll call things even. As long as you get to properly soak in the sun for once today.
Late afternoon rays wash the steel awning overhead a burnt orange, as you lie against concrete with green stripes marking out distinct spaces. For you and other Cyclizar like you who ply the roads for hire on behalf of your trainers. They can apparently pay and hire with a few taps on those slates they always carry nowadays, but even so, some things have remained constant…
“Bugh… slow day.”
Namely that once in a while, there will be a lack of takers. You’ve heard it said that humans in Medali, and in their other clusters of dens in this land have a fondness for midday rests much like how your kind might to bask when the sun was at its highest and most warm. But that time came and went a few hours ago, and here you’ve just been waiting, for a customer to come for you to carry them off to parts far away, or else your proper trainer to come and take you home for the day.
With how slow things have been, you’re half tempted to sneak off for a while and sneak in a quick bask.
“I heard Reiju almost got run off the road by La Ferromandra near Porto Marinada last night.”
“La Ferromandra? Boy, that must’ve been scary for her. Is she okay?”
You stir in your spot and shoot a sidelong glance at a pair of Cyclizar similarly lounging in spots under the awning. One that looks like you, and another with tan scales. Friends of yours who you encounter in this place in between runs.
“La Ferromandra? Clúa? Sanglas? What are you two going on about?”
Sanglas scoffs, before raising his tan head and letting his dewlap puff out.
“Seriously, Montesa. I know that work’s been slow for you,” he says. “But how has a Pokémon in your line of work not heard of La Ferromandra? Have you been hiding under a rock?”
“I don’t consider myself a big gossip, alright?” you harrumph. “Look, just what is this La Ferromandra?”
The other Cyclizar, Clúa, looks around nervously as if expecting to be struck down by an unseen presence, before turning to you and speaking in a hushed tone.
“It’s this monster that’s been roaming the footpaths between towns in the dead of night. They say it’s half dragon and half machine, and roams the roads searching for unsuspecting prey,” she says. “When it finds it, it lets out a gods-awful roar before it comes at you. The last thing you see is a purple blur and then a hail of lightning.”
“Hence ‘La Ferromandra’.”
… Seriously? This is what Sanglas and Clúa are so worked up about? You’re pretty sure that this isn’t even a story they heard themselves, since you’re pretty sure you saw a picture from some dubious human magazine that looked like that.
“Isn’t that just one of those make-believe creatures from those human tabloids?” you scoff, furrowing your brow.
“It’s totally real! I’ve got a buddy that runs a route through Cabo Poco. Swears on his scales that a buddy of his saw La Ferromandra eat an entire pack of Houndoom out there!” Clúa protests. “Saw La Ferromandra’s lightning drop ‘em and smelled the burnt fur and everything before he ran off!”
Well that got morbid and unsettling quickly. Though if this story has been heard as far out as Cabo Poco, maybe you have been a bit out of the loop.
“More like you need to be less gullible, Clúa,” you harrumph. “Really now, you expect me to believe that of all the Pokémon this supposed monster that could hunt entire packs at a time to eat, it’d have gone for a bunch of bony dogs?”
You hear footsteps approaching and look up to see a human fiddle with his phone, before going to a reader on the wall, where a Pokéball drops out. Yours, based off the scuffs around its edges, meaning that your wait for a customer has finally come to an end.
He’s still talking on the phone as he walks up to your side. You miss most of the conversation in his tongue, but you think you picked out his destination, at least.
“That’s my cue. Sounds like this guy’s headed out to Cascarrafa,” you tell your friends. “With any luck, I’ll be back by midnight tonight.”
Sanglas and Clúa trade looks with one another, as Clúa gives an uneasy paw at the ground.
“Wait, to Cascaraffa?” she asks. “Maybe I’m worrying over nothing, Montesa… But Cascarrafa’s not that far from Porto Marinada, and—”
Shift in place briefly as your hired rider slides into the harness on your back. After adjusting to his weight, you look back at Clúa, your mouth curled down into a frown.
“Clúa, seriously. Stop shedding your scales. I’ll be fine,” you insist. “Don’t believe every little story you hear.”
You hear your rider call out and set off ahead and turn as he twists the handlebars on your harness. He pushes down on the footrests to indicate he wants to go faster and you oblige. Starting slowly, and as you make it onto a stretch of open road, you tuck your tail in and flare your dewlap out as you break into a run.
The hours and distance fly by on the road to Cascaraffa, and before you know it, the sun does too as it dips over the horizon and the moon and the stars begin to poke out. You chalk that up to the thrill of the run, as with your blood pumping the world zipping by and the warmth of your rider spreading to your body, you’ve been enjoying yourself for sometime.
You come to a fork and fly down the left, carrying on uphill a short distance when you feel a sharp tug on your harness that digs into your scales from how abrupt it is. You slow down and look up at your rider, who’s motioning back down the path. You narrow your eyes in annoyance and raise your voice in protest.
“Oh come on! You’re the one who wanted to go here in the first place!” you complain. “This is the road to Cascarraf-!”
You cut yourself off when you notice that the terrain is rockier than you expected. … Right, the way to Cascaraffa from Medali goes downhill. Even if your human rider should’ve known better, so should you.
You grumble and start to make your way back own to the fork, rounding the bend where you see a slope downhill. You sigh and start to set off, when the air suddenly fills with an earsplitting roar.
“H-Huh?!”
You abruptly freeze and come to a stop, gaping about your surroundings as you try to make sense of where the roar came from. Your rider is tugging at your harness again, but this time you ignore his promptings. You don’t know if you can go on just yet.
“Wh-Who’s there?!”
There is nothing but the sounds of night for a moment, until you faintly hear the sounds of a wooshing hum that almost sounds like the engine of a human plane mixed with faint, pulsing music. You look up at the sky and there’s none to be found when it dawns to you that the noise is coming from the ground further down the path.
“What in the-?”
A large, darkened shape brushes past you and you briefly see purple and silver before you tumble off your feet and into the side of the road. You hear yelps, one of them your human rider’s, along with skidding and gravel and dirt being kicked up. You whirl your head towards the path further uphill along with garbled beats of music, where you see a long, darkened shape pair of hollow wheels with hints of static crackling along them. They merge into the darkened figure’s body when you see a glowing blue eye and as you look under the moon’s light, see purple hide, a metal head, and long, glinting claws.
Your mouth flops open out of fright. You know exactly who this strange being is, and you know that you are no match for its might.
“L-La F-Ferroman-”
The pulsing music cuts out when something slides off the creature’s back when La Ferromandra turns, revealing a second blue eye, and begins to pace forward. You hurriedly get onto your feet and try to flee, only to lose your balance from your harness hanging askew, and flop forward onto your belly.
A dark shadow falls over you, and your heart pounds in your chest as your breaths come ragged and quick. This is it, not even shedding your tail will get you out of this. Panic overtakes you, as you let out a shriek and your words come out in a pleading squeal.
“A-AAH! Please don’t eat me! I’m n-not a Houndoom! I don’t taste good-!”
“Houndoom? But why would I think you’re a— You didn’t hit your head in that crash, did you?”
A voice with a drone not unlike a Porygon’s answers you as you lay there, waiting for searing lightning that never comes. You crack your eyes open and see the steel-headed beast looking down at you, giving a curious tilt of its head down.
“I already felt dizzy when I ran into that tree further down the path,” it says. “So I can’t imagine it would feel good for a smaller Pokémon like you.”
You blink and stare up at the strange creature. ‘Run into a tree’? Was that what that roar earlier was? You stare up into the eyes of the creature, raising your voice with a stammer as you start to get a faint hope that you’re not in danger.
“S-So you’re not going to kill me with a hail of lightning?”
La Ferromandra stiffens up, and looks away from you. You aren’t sure what to make of it when heated words in human tongue ring out. A glance over, and there is your hired rider arguing with what looks like a human girl.
You sigh in relief, you really aren’t in danger after all. You turn your attention back to La Ferromandra, as it traces its claws in the dirt with an expression that reminds you of yours when you’re downcast and glum.
“I couldn’t do that even if my life depended on it,” it tells you. “I can’t battle at all… and I haven’t been able to for some time.”
You study the creature carefully from a distance when you realize that it’s not just its expression that reminds you of your own. Sanglas and Clúa mentioned that La Ferromandra was half-dragon and half-machine. But with its serpentine profile, you realize that the dragon it looks like most is you.
You begin to lose your fear, and sidle up alongside La Ferromandra much as you would a hurt or frightened peer, and give a worried look from the side of your eye.
“... Did you get hurt or something?” you ask. “I wouldn’t have expected to hear a… whatever Pokémon you are say that it couldn’t fight.”
There is a noticeable pause, before the machine-dragon looks back at you, head hung low.
“Something like that, yeah. Though ‘Miraidon’ is what the humans call my kind.”
‘Miraidon’, huh? You’re not sure how that one got cooked up. While part of you is still in disbelief that La Ferromandra is truly here and in the flesh, it’s more like you than the fierce monster the stories made it out to be.
Considering that, maybe… just maybe… you already know just the sort of thing that would cheer it up.
“I mean, you can run well, at least,” you offer, raising your snout with a small chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll get on your feet for battling soon enough. Just don’t wear yourself out.”
“I’d feel more confident if I wasn’t running into trees on turns all the time.”
You blink and look back down the path from where this ‘Miraidon’ came. They are running in the middle of the road and deep from having been left behind while rolling fast. You hesitate, before turning
“Um… how are you taking those turns again?”
“I try to stick to the center of the road whenever I can,” Miraidon explains, tilting its head. “Why?”
That… would explain a few things about how this Pokémon ran Reiju off the road, or you for that matter. Such a strange creature who at least feels like it ought to be powerful, and yet it’s still making rookie mistakes as a runner like you.
“Try slowing down as you go into them and then speeding up afterwards. Also, it’s custom when running the roads to stick on the right side of it whenever you can,” you explain. “It… kinda would keep you from running into others like you did with me.”
There’s a pause and a blink, as Miraidon seems to have a moment of realization.
“Oh, so like those ‘car’ things humans have do?” it asks. “I didn’t realize that was also supposed to happen here too, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
You hear footsteps approach and see your hired rider clamber back onto your harness, grumbling frustratedly under his breath. The human girl is going back for Miraidon, too, and after it sees her, it turns back to you as you pass side by side.
“Right, I suppose we both have places to be. Though by the way, Cyclizar… it might be a bit of a silly question, but did your human also give you a name?”
… This creature has a name? You thought ‘Miraidon’ was it, but clearly there’s more to the story behind how it and its rider came together than you thought. You hesitate for a moment, before glancing back as you make your way further downhill on the path.
“Well, this one isn’t my proper human. But yeah,” you reply. “It’s ‘Montesa’. Why, do you have one, too?”
Miraidon turns down the path as the human girl fiddles with a device in her hands and the strange, pulsing music from earlier begins to play.
“Trueno,” it tells you. “If we meet again, hopefully I’ll live up to it a bit better next time.”
The creature breaks into a run as rings come out that it grips between its claws, the jet-like woosh kicking up as what look like engines on its hips spurt contrails and it takes off up the path. You feel your own rider tug at you and start off continue down the path for Cascarrafa. Right, you’ve got a job to finish.
You always knew that your friends were wrong, but in a way they were also right. La Ferromandra is indeed real, but it’s nothing like the monster who existed in their stories. La Ferromandra is a dragon named ‘thunder’, one who’s an awful lot like you, and more of a road hazard than anything malevolent like their stories claim.
You already know that you’ll have quite a story to tell when you’re back in Medali later tonight. One that will surely seem so implausible to them that they’ll think you’re lying.
Though then again, from the path that those two were taking… perhaps your worries are premature. From the direction those two headed off in, odds are you won’t be the only runner entering Medali later tonight.
“Bugh… slow day.”
Namely that once in a while, there will be a lack of takers. You’ve heard it said that humans in Medali, and in their other clusters of dens in this land have a fondness for midday rests much like how your kind might to bask when the sun was at its highest and most warm. But that time came and went a few hours ago, and here you’ve just been waiting, for a customer to come for you to carry them off to parts far away, or else your proper trainer to come and take you home for the day.
With how slow things have been, you’re half tempted to sneak off for a while and sneak in a quick bask.
“I heard Reiju almost got run off the road by La Ferromandra near Porto Marinada last night.”
“La Ferromandra? Boy, that must’ve been scary for her. Is she okay?”
You stir in your spot and shoot a sidelong glance at a pair of Cyclizar similarly lounging in spots under the awning. One that looks like you, and another with tan scales. Friends of yours who you encounter in this place in between runs.
“La Ferromandra? Clúa? Sanglas? What are you two going on about?”
Sanglas scoffs, before raising his tan head and letting his dewlap puff out.
“Seriously, Montesa. I know that work’s been slow for you,” he says. “But how has a Pokémon in your line of work not heard of La Ferromandra? Have you been hiding under a rock?”
“I don’t consider myself a big gossip, alright?” you harrumph. “Look, just what is this La Ferromandra?”
The other Cyclizar, Clúa, looks around nervously as if expecting to be struck down by an unseen presence, before turning to you and speaking in a hushed tone.
“It’s this monster that’s been roaming the footpaths between towns in the dead of night. They say it’s half dragon and half machine, and roams the roads searching for unsuspecting prey,” she says. “When it finds it, it lets out a gods-awful roar before it comes at you. The last thing you see is a purple blur and then a hail of lightning.”
“Hence ‘La Ferromandra’.”
… Seriously? This is what Sanglas and Clúa are so worked up about? You’re pretty sure that this isn’t even a story they heard themselves, since you’re pretty sure you saw a picture from some dubious human magazine that looked like that.
“Isn’t that just one of those make-believe creatures from those human tabloids?” you scoff, furrowing your brow.
“It’s totally real! I’ve got a buddy that runs a route through Cabo Poco. Swears on his scales that a buddy of his saw La Ferromandra eat an entire pack of Houndoom out there!” Clúa protests. “Saw La Ferromandra’s lightning drop ‘em and smelled the burnt fur and everything before he ran off!”
Well that got morbid and unsettling quickly. Though if this story has been heard as far out as Cabo Poco, maybe you have been a bit out of the loop.
“More like you need to be less gullible, Clúa,” you harrumph. “Really now, you expect me to believe that of all the Pokémon this supposed monster that could hunt entire packs at a time to eat, it’d have gone for a bunch of bony dogs?”
You hear footsteps approaching and look up to see a human fiddle with his phone, before going to a reader on the wall, where a Pokéball drops out. Yours, based off the scuffs around its edges, meaning that your wait for a customer has finally come to an end.
He’s still talking on the phone as he walks up to your side. You miss most of the conversation in his tongue, but you think you picked out his destination, at least.
“That’s my cue. Sounds like this guy’s headed out to Cascarrafa,” you tell your friends. “With any luck, I’ll be back by midnight tonight.”
Sanglas and Clúa trade looks with one another, as Clúa gives an uneasy paw at the ground.
“Wait, to Cascaraffa?” she asks. “Maybe I’m worrying over nothing, Montesa… But Cascarrafa’s not that far from Porto Marinada, and—”
Shift in place briefly as your hired rider slides into the harness on your back. After adjusting to his weight, you look back at Clúa, your mouth curled down into a frown.
“Clúa, seriously. Stop shedding your scales. I’ll be fine,” you insist. “Don’t believe every little story you hear.”
You hear your rider call out and set off ahead and turn as he twists the handlebars on your harness. He pushes down on the footrests to indicate he wants to go faster and you oblige. Starting slowly, and as you make it onto a stretch of open road, you tuck your tail in and flare your dewlap out as you break into a run.
The hours and distance fly by on the road to Cascaraffa, and before you know it, the sun does too as it dips over the horizon and the moon and the stars begin to poke out. You chalk that up to the thrill of the run, as with your blood pumping the world zipping by and the warmth of your rider spreading to your body, you’ve been enjoying yourself for sometime.
You come to a fork and fly down the left, carrying on uphill a short distance when you feel a sharp tug on your harness that digs into your scales from how abrupt it is. You slow down and look up at your rider, who’s motioning back down the path. You narrow your eyes in annoyance and raise your voice in protest.
“Oh come on! You’re the one who wanted to go here in the first place!” you complain. “This is the road to Cascarraf-!”
You cut yourself off when you notice that the terrain is rockier than you expected. … Right, the way to Cascaraffa from Medali goes downhill. Even if your human rider should’ve known better, so should you.
You grumble and start to make your way back own to the fork, rounding the bend where you see a slope downhill. You sigh and start to set off, when the air suddenly fills with an earsplitting roar.
“H-Huh?!”
You abruptly freeze and come to a stop, gaping about your surroundings as you try to make sense of where the roar came from. Your rider is tugging at your harness again, but this time you ignore his promptings. You don’t know if you can go on just yet.
“Wh-Who’s there?!”
There is nothing but the sounds of night for a moment, until you faintly hear the sounds of a wooshing hum that almost sounds like the engine of a human plane mixed with faint, pulsing music. You look up at the sky and there’s none to be found when it dawns to you that the noise is coming from the ground further down the path.
“What in the-?”
A large, darkened shape brushes past you and you briefly see purple and silver before you tumble off your feet and into the side of the road. You hear yelps, one of them your human rider’s, along with skidding and gravel and dirt being kicked up. You whirl your head towards the path further uphill along with garbled beats of music, where you see a long, darkened shape pair of hollow wheels with hints of static crackling along them. They merge into the darkened figure’s body when you see a glowing blue eye and as you look under the moon’s light, see purple hide, a metal head, and long, glinting claws.
Your mouth flops open out of fright. You know exactly who this strange being is, and you know that you are no match for its might.
“L-La F-Ferroman-”
The pulsing music cuts out when something slides off the creature’s back when La Ferromandra turns, revealing a second blue eye, and begins to pace forward. You hurriedly get onto your feet and try to flee, only to lose your balance from your harness hanging askew, and flop forward onto your belly.
A dark shadow falls over you, and your heart pounds in your chest as your breaths come ragged and quick. This is it, not even shedding your tail will get you out of this. Panic overtakes you, as you let out a shriek and your words come out in a pleading squeal.
“A-AAH! Please don’t eat me! I’m n-not a Houndoom! I don’t taste good-!”
“Houndoom? But why would I think you’re a— You didn’t hit your head in that crash, did you?”
A voice with a drone not unlike a Porygon’s answers you as you lay there, waiting for searing lightning that never comes. You crack your eyes open and see the steel-headed beast looking down at you, giving a curious tilt of its head down.
“I already felt dizzy when I ran into that tree further down the path,” it says. “So I can’t imagine it would feel good for a smaller Pokémon like you.”
You blink and stare up at the strange creature. ‘Run into a tree’? Was that what that roar earlier was? You stare up into the eyes of the creature, raising your voice with a stammer as you start to get a faint hope that you’re not in danger.
“S-So you’re not going to kill me with a hail of lightning?”
La Ferromandra stiffens up, and looks away from you. You aren’t sure what to make of it when heated words in human tongue ring out. A glance over, and there is your hired rider arguing with what looks like a human girl.
You sigh in relief, you really aren’t in danger after all. You turn your attention back to La Ferromandra, as it traces its claws in the dirt with an expression that reminds you of yours when you’re downcast and glum.
“I couldn’t do that even if my life depended on it,” it tells you. “I can’t battle at all… and I haven’t been able to for some time.”
You study the creature carefully from a distance when you realize that it’s not just its expression that reminds you of your own. Sanglas and Clúa mentioned that La Ferromandra was half-dragon and half-machine. But with its serpentine profile, you realize that the dragon it looks like most is you.
You begin to lose your fear, and sidle up alongside La Ferromandra much as you would a hurt or frightened peer, and give a worried look from the side of your eye.
“... Did you get hurt or something?” you ask. “I wouldn’t have expected to hear a… whatever Pokémon you are say that it couldn’t fight.”
There is a noticeable pause, before the machine-dragon looks back at you, head hung low.
“Something like that, yeah. Though ‘Miraidon’ is what the humans call my kind.”
‘Miraidon’, huh? You’re not sure how that one got cooked up. While part of you is still in disbelief that La Ferromandra is truly here and in the flesh, it’s more like you than the fierce monster the stories made it out to be.
Considering that, maybe… just maybe… you already know just the sort of thing that would cheer it up.
“I mean, you can run well, at least,” you offer, raising your snout with a small chuckle. “I’m sure you’ll get on your feet for battling soon enough. Just don’t wear yourself out.”
“I’d feel more confident if I wasn’t running into trees on turns all the time.”
You blink and look back down the path from where this ‘Miraidon’ came. They are running in the middle of the road and deep from having been left behind while rolling fast. You hesitate, before turning
“Um… how are you taking those turns again?”
“I try to stick to the center of the road whenever I can,” Miraidon explains, tilting its head. “Why?”
That… would explain a few things about how this Pokémon ran Reiju off the road, or you for that matter. Such a strange creature who at least feels like it ought to be powerful, and yet it’s still making rookie mistakes as a runner like you.
“Try slowing down as you go into them and then speeding up afterwards. Also, it’s custom when running the roads to stick on the right side of it whenever you can,” you explain. “It… kinda would keep you from running into others like you did with me.”
There’s a pause and a blink, as Miraidon seems to have a moment of realization.
“Oh, so like those ‘car’ things humans have do?” it asks. “I didn’t realize that was also supposed to happen here too, but I’ll keep it in mind.”
You hear footsteps approach and see your hired rider clamber back onto your harness, grumbling frustratedly under his breath. The human girl is going back for Miraidon, too, and after it sees her, it turns back to you as you pass side by side.
“Right, I suppose we both have places to be. Though by the way, Cyclizar… it might be a bit of a silly question, but did your human also give you a name?”
… This creature has a name? You thought ‘Miraidon’ was it, but clearly there’s more to the story behind how it and its rider came together than you thought. You hesitate for a moment, before glancing back as you make your way further downhill on the path.
“Well, this one isn’t my proper human. But yeah,” you reply. “It’s ‘Montesa’. Why, do you have one, too?”
Miraidon turns down the path as the human girl fiddles with a device in her hands and the strange, pulsing music from earlier begins to play.
“Trueno,” it tells you. “If we meet again, hopefully I’ll live up to it a bit better next time.”
The creature breaks into a run as rings come out that it grips between its claws, the jet-like woosh kicking up as what look like engines on its hips spurt contrails and it takes off up the path. You feel your own rider tug at you and start off continue down the path for Cascarrafa. Right, you’ve got a job to finish.
You always knew that your friends were wrong, but in a way they were also right. La Ferromandra is indeed real, but it’s nothing like the monster who existed in their stories. La Ferromandra is a dragon named ‘thunder’, one who’s an awful lot like you, and more of a road hazard than anything malevolent like their stories claim.
You already know that you’ll have quite a story to tell when you’re back in Medali later tonight. One that will surely seem so implausible to them that they’ll think you’re lying.
Though then again, from the path that those two were taking… perhaps your worries are premature. From the direction those two headed off in, odds are you won’t be the only runner entering Medali later tonight.
You rouse from your bed of dried vegetation among stony ground and onto your feet and shake off the morning dew from your scales and plumes. It’s still early enough that it's twilight and the sun hasn’t come over the horizon yet, but it’s still light enough for you to make out the jungle around you. You trudge forward, towards the bluff not far from your resting place, which you chose for the commanding view it gives over your realm, whose contours you can already make begin to make out in the dim light. Of thick, jungled lowlands running alongside the sea to the west. The territory over which you reign as its king.
It is a place with large ferns and vines amongst tall trees, flecked with clearings where larger prey sometimes gather. The thick undergrowth that bogs down many others that live in your territory is but a minor nuisance for your bulk and height to crash through, and their density provides cover for even a creature your size to sneak up on your prey.
While you are still quite young as king, this territory did not come easily after you struck out to make a claim for yourself. With tooth and claw, you fought for this forest to reign over, besting all rivals that dared to stand in your way.
Your one source of discontent is that you have yet to find a mate, but it’s spring and mating season is just around the corner. Your territory is one where food is bountiful and the weather never bitter in cold, with your den in a defensible place. You doubt you will be kept waiting for long to find a mate who will accept your advances, and soon enough you will have heirs for your realm.
The best time to go hunting for prey is when they’re not alert and can be taken unawares. Why your own mother even spoke of proverbs of how fortune favored Tyrantrum who were early to rise. To that end, you turn inland for the east to gauge the light coming over the horizon.
From appearances, it’s about half an hour out still. So long as you keep a brisk pace, you should be able to find prey to hunt well before they shake off their morning drowsiness.
You turn to set off, turning for the west when as you do, you notice a bright star in the sky. It’s the one you first noticed about three days ago that appeared in the northeast. Every night since the one you noticed it, it has moved a little further towards the southwest and grown a bit brighter.
But this is the first time you can recall seeing it at this hour with your own eyes, let alone see it visibly moving.
The star inches along for the southwest slowly, when all of a sudden, it picks up speed and zips over the horizon, much like an Archeops might drop out of a tree while on the hunt. It might have been your eyes playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn it grew visibly brighter for a moment before it vanished.
Perhaps it is one of the moving stars that sometimes appear in the sky, especially at night. But if it is one, it’s certainly a most peculiar specimen. Those stars, whether coming and going in the twinkling of an eye, or drifting in the sky for many nights, have majestic tails that follow them in their wake. The one you saw by contrast was barely a dot.
There were myths your mother told you about how some say those stars in the sky are themselves Pokémon. Ones with great power and unknowable ways. Perhaps that was one of their younglings? A most unimpressive one from its lack of a tail if so, a runt among stars, you muse.
You hear your stomach growl and turn away from the path of the star-runt as your mind returns to thoughts of your impending hunt. You raise your snout to sniff the air and feel the wind blow against it and your feathers.
It’s coming in from the north running inland from the sea. Good. Now you know what direction will best cover your scent as you go on your hunt.
Half an hour later, the sun is now starting to poke over the horizon and you have found your prey: a Bastiodon herd. You can only remain so quiet with your size, but the first of their numbers have just barely roused and are still drowsy and your distance helps make up for it.
You creep forward closer and closer to the treeline, trying to size up the members of their herd. Your hunt will go easiest if they break in confusion or panic, and you have just the means to do so in the early morning light.
You crouch and let out a bellowing roar, the racket startling the herd awake as you lunge in with fangs bared. All about you, the Bastiodon and their young scatter with cries of panic, your eyes falling on a Bastiodon before you who gets up and freezes after seeing you.
The Bastiodon pulls his tail in towards his legs and flinches as his innards sicken in fright. You charge the stunned creature with your jaws open wide when you are rammed from the side with a bellowing cry. You briefly see the fear-sick Bastiodon turn and flee, and get up to see another Bastiodon holding her head down to block your way and shakes it to mime a charge, with a pair hurriedly lumbering to her side.
She is attempting to rally their numbers, to band together into a living wall of armored heads and make it unsafe to attempt to take prey from among them. Such challenge to you as king cannot be tolerated, you must see to it that her fellows see that it is a mortal mistake.
You stomp the ground and make it tremble. Small cracks sprout in the dirt as the three Bastiodon lose their footing. You charge forward as the lead rallier stumbles up and attempts to charge you as you near, as you sidestep and your tail comes alive with flecks of blue fire that dance about it.
You swing it around with a crushing blow, knocking the lead Bastiodon off her feet and sending her flopping onto her side stunned. You carry on briefly towards the other two Bastiodon. They frantically stumble back from you in an attempt to fall back.
All as you had planned.
You wheel about and lunge at the Bastiodon still getting up from your Dragon Tail, knocking her down and sinking your fangs into the side of her neck. She shrieks in pain as your bite breaks hide and thrashes as your strong jaws hold their grip. Her strength gives out in your jaws and you let go, as she lies there dazed with blood trickling out, just faintly clinging to life.
You turn and spit up scales onto the ground, looking at the Bastiodon’s allies behind you. Their will to fight is gone, and they both lose their nerve and flee, the clearing filling with frantic cries that fade as the rest of the herd leaves their fallen comrade behind and you pant and size over your quarry.
It was a hunt harder-fought than most in your past, and had you not taken swift action, you could very well have been forced to limp away empty-jawed. But still, you are king and you are victorious, and before you dispatch your prey, it is only proper that all those who dwell in your territories know it.
You place a foot onto your prey and turn your head up, bellowing out your triumph. It tells of how you are king of this forest and your might has brought you victory once again. A claim of rightful reign over this place, and call for any who listen to challenge you if they dare.
That would normally be the end of things and you’d move on to dispatching your prey, but today, your roar trails off and your cry dies in your throat as you see a light shoot across the sky trailing smoke streaking from the still-dim southwestern portion of the horizon. Another appears, and then a third, a fourth, as the sky grow thicker and thicker with those strange lights from above.
One of them trails down towards the ground a little ways off towards the north. It lands with a dull thump, as smoke curls up from its direction above the treetops.
Before you can wonder to yourself what the fire from the sky is, the ground abruptly shakes much like it did with Earthquake, except far stronger. It knocks you off of the felled Bastiodon and you fall onto your side, righting yourself as you see trees topple to earth. Frightened shrieks ring out from the forest in all directions, and the ground near your feet visibly cracks from the tremors.
… Is this the doing of another Tyrantrum? You can’t explain the sky-fire but this tremor is much like the one you wield like hunting. You fight against the tremors and look around, snarling and loudly demanding the culprit to show themself. This is your forest and you are its king, you are confident in your might and fear not any challenger.
You are answered by a flash of heat and a loud thud, stumbling to the ground from a concussive wave and blast of dislodged dirt. You look off to the opposite end of the clearing and see the trees that were once there are now tangled splinters, with them and the surrounding survivors set awash in a curtain of flame.
You don’t know if this is the work of a challenger, but you know that whoever wields the sky-fire has strength far beyond your own. A flash of panic takes over you, and you turn and run from the clearing as fast as your legs and the churning earth underneath will allow.
The trees shake all about you and you hear others crash to earth unseen. A brief glance up reveals a flock of Archeops hurriedly taking flight, while below cries and screams ring out from closer to the ground. Coming from both Pokémon you count as prey and rivals alike.
You come to a smaller gap in the jungle, cast a glimpse off for the direction of your den and freeze. There is smoke curling up from its direction. Part of the bluff along the coast then collapses from the quake in a cloud of dust, right as another ball of sky-fire zooms past it.
Something is very wrong right now, and you’re not sure if any Pokémon would be capable of doing this. You briefly recount stories you’ve heard about legends where the earth would wake up and spew fire out in all directions from openings in the ground. This reminds you of that, except this fire comes from somewhere beyond the sea, from well beyond the horizon.
It is then that it occurs to you that the sky-fire seems to all be coming from the direction of the southwest.
From the direction that the star-runt fell over the horizon half an hour ago.
You are snapped to attention as a tree falls and glances against your shoulder and bellow in pain. You wrack your mind for any possible shelter you can turn to, when one comes to mind. There is a river nearby here. Shallow enough for you to ford, while broad enough to seek shelter from fire or crumbling earth.
It is the only hope you have right now.
You take off running back through the forest, stumbling ahead and glancing off trunk to trunk from the tremors. Against your kingly nature, you let out a yelp as a smaller ball of sky-fire slices through the canopy just in front of you and sets the branches in its wake ablaze. You screw your eyes shut and force yourself forward as embers fall on you, opening them again once you pass and turning them skywards.
What you see makes your eyes shrink, as above, little beads of sky-fire now fill the sky like hail, striking leaves overhead as others burn through and fall towards the ground like molten rain.
Perhaps it’s superstitious or jumping to conclusions, but in your gut, something tells you that this is because of the star-runt. Did it do this to your forest? Was it somehow knew about the way you slighted it?
Something pierces into your flank with burning pain and you scream in pain and bolt ahead as the smell of something burnt lingers with you. You don’t know what sort of territory you will rule as king after all of this, but at this point, you’re more concerned with merely keeping your head.
You hear running water, and much to your relief, you see the river up ahead. With every ounce of your strength, you fight the pain in your flank and run forward for the water’s safety. You burst from the cover of the treeline and feel the riverbank’s silt under your feet.
Then there’s a flash of heat from beside you and a deafening blast. You feel a crushing wave in the air and searing heat along your side and pitch forward into the river before everything goes black.
The next thing you remember is feeling the river all around your body and coughing up water from your lungs. Your vision is muddy at first and your breaths come shaky as aches and pains rack just about every part you can think of.
The ground is still shaking now, just as strong as you remembered when you blacked out. You smell smoke and as your vision, you see that you are lying in a shallower part of the river, and as you weakly turn your head, you see that both its banks are aflame as far as the eyes can see. Embers swirl up into the air from them, as the sky-fire continues coming down from beyond a smoky curtain, too thick to make out what time of day it is.
Grimace as your left leg hurts when you move it. You weakly turn your head to see and see that up and down your flank, your hide is blackened with ugly burns and that much of your plumage is charred down to the quills.
You feel a whimper in your throat but fight it back. You are the king of this forest. Even when fleeing, kings still have a level of dignity to maintain and do not whimper.
You try to stand up, but the pain in your left leg won’t let you. You hear sizzling and see that the smaller balls of sky-fire are still falling, as a few hit places in the river nearby you and hiss as they are extinguished. You look past and see various shapes slumped over in and around the water, the one nearest to you is an Aerodactyl, lying partly crumpled in the water with his wings splayed out and his head resting just above the surface, eyes closed. There are burnt holes in his wings’ membranes. You can’t tell whether or not he’s still breathing from your distance.
It then occurs to you that you don’t hear screams anymore. Just the sound of burning fire, distant thuds in the distance, and a dull roar that lingers in the background.
You turn your head towards the dull roar as you realize that it’s coming from the sea. There, from the light of the fire, you can make out a black-colored wall approaching, taller than the burning trees around you.
You see a trunk get caught on it, roll, and suddenly go dark. It then occurs to you that you know what the black wall is:
It’s the sea. Coming straight at you and sweeping away everything in its path.
This time, you don’t hold back the whimper in your throat, and lower your head and brace for the end. There is nothing more you can do now. If this is indeed the star-runt’s doing, it has felled you and all your realm.
And like a victorious king, it has every right to claim you.
The next thing you know, water comes over your body and sweeps you up. You tumble about in it and feel hard objects strike your body.
One of them hits your head, and everything goes black once again.
You’re waking up again. There’s fluid all around and as you crack your eyes open, see hazy and indistinct shapes through fluid with a greenish tint from above and below. You stir in a panic to try and get air, when it occurs to you that you’re still breathing and something is clamped tight over your snout. You can’t clearly make out your body right now other than hazy glimpses of dark-colored limbs and a tail.
You see indistinct shapes and lights through the fluid as two tall ones that dwarf you come to the front and stop. They move slightly, and there’s gurgling noises from below. The fluid drains and you drift down with it, until your feel cold metal brush against your hide. You lay there, breathing in and out as you blink away the liquid out of your eyes and the world starts to become clearer.
You’re lying on some sort of surface: metal on the bottom and you see metal on top, with some sort of clear substance all between them much as if it were the hollow of some sort of strange, hollow log. You feel fluid drip down your scales and look down and see they are brown. Your memory is hazy, but you remembered that they were a different color, even if this feels distantly familiar to you.
“The revival process is complete. It should be fine to disconnect him now.”
There are voices you can’t understand that come from outside the tube when a woosh rings out and it retracts. You see lights from above and reflexively whimper and cringe. Even in this strange place, the sky-fire is there, and you curl up and brace for the end.
“Easy, easy. You’re alright.”
You yelp as you feel tugs on your snout and keep your eyes screwed shut as something lifts your body up. There’s warmth from above but it’s not scorching, as you look own and see some strange, soft white covering swaddling you, a pair of limbs that are giant relative to your body holding you up from below.
It occurs to you that you’re being carried off by a predator, a fear you have not had since you were very young. You help against your muzzle and flail your limbs and squirm as the strange limbs fight to hold you still. You try to break free when suddenly something moves against your back and strokes slowly. Your breathing calms, as you crack your eyes back open.
You look past the white covering and see a strange, gangly creature in a sort of loose, white pelt with a fur-tuft looking down at you, which comes down to the sides of a strange head without visible scales, or feathers, or even fur beyond a couple patches over the creature’s brows. Its mouth curls up at its end, and it speaks in a soft and cooing voice.
“There, there. You’re okay, no. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Something about it feels strangely reassuring, when you feel your legs touch a surface that flexes under your weight when you’re held in place and suddenly the covering moves all up and down your scales. You squirm and try to call out in protest as it occurs to you that it’s wiping away the fluid. It lets go, as another creature in a white pelt comes forward, reared up to a height that looks positively gigantic. Its head-fur looks shorter, it has fur along the bottom of its mouth much like the beard of feathers you remembered you had before you woke up again, and a set of strange rings about its eyes that rest on long stalks coming from what you presume to be horns on the side of its head.
It glances you over briefly, before turning towards the other as it pushes the strange covering up and down your scales. It chuckles, as speaks up with strange, dissonant vocalizations you don’t understand.
“Sure looks different from that Jaw Fossil we found him as. Not bad for a Pokémon that spent millions of years stuck in sediment that was once at the bottom of a sea, if you ask me.”
Its hands go for your muzzle and you feel the pressure on it slacken, as it pulls it away from your eyes. With your jaws now freed, you lunge and clamp down on the white covering that keeps poking and prodding at your body, and vigorously shake it as you attempt to prove to it that you are a king and not its prey.
It’s warm and chewy, and gives no shrieks of pain or replies to your growls. It’s not alive, perhaps its a hide of some sort? You pause and look about your surroundings and see you’re in some sort of strange cave. The surface that gives way underfoot is green and feels soft but firm to the touch. To the sides are peculiar cave walls that look unnaturally straight, the cave floor does too with strange hatch-like patterns in the rock. As does the ceiling, with strange lights embedded in them that appear to lack the normal warmth of sunlight.
You look around bewildered, when long-tuft cups its fingers under your chin and strokes you.
“Welcome to our world, little guy. It’s not quite being king of the jungle, but we’re glad you’re here in it.”
You blink and settle in on the counter as the white-pelted creatures drift off, casting glances at you as they talk from further off in the room. You’re not sure what on earth happened, or if those things you thought were memories of the burning forest and being overtaken by the black waves were a nightmare of some sort. You also don’t know whether you are even safe right now. After all, the white-pelts are much larger than you, and took you from the strange tube to your present ledge as they pleased.
… You decide to test the order of this strange new world you’re in, and stand up, throwing your head back with a mighty roar.
… It’s smaller and less impressive than you remembered, but it makes both the white pelts on their two legs stiffen up and turn to see you. The one with the long tuft hurries over and places a blue berry in front of you. It pats you again, though this time its motions are more guarded and careful. As if chastened and put into place.
The white pelt drifts off again as you lower your jaws and tear into the berry, its flesh entering your mouth as you give a knowing grin.
Even in this diminished body, even in this strange place among strange creatures larger than you that you know naught about, you recognize clear as day the way they reacted.
They yielded to you, and they know that you are their king.
It is a place with large ferns and vines amongst tall trees, flecked with clearings where larger prey sometimes gather. The thick undergrowth that bogs down many others that live in your territory is but a minor nuisance for your bulk and height to crash through, and their density provides cover for even a creature your size to sneak up on your prey.
While you are still quite young as king, this territory did not come easily after you struck out to make a claim for yourself. With tooth and claw, you fought for this forest to reign over, besting all rivals that dared to stand in your way.
Your one source of discontent is that you have yet to find a mate, but it’s spring and mating season is just around the corner. Your territory is one where food is bountiful and the weather never bitter in cold, with your den in a defensible place. You doubt you will be kept waiting for long to find a mate who will accept your advances, and soon enough you will have heirs for your realm.
The best time to go hunting for prey is when they’re not alert and can be taken unawares. Why your own mother even spoke of proverbs of how fortune favored Tyrantrum who were early to rise. To that end, you turn inland for the east to gauge the light coming over the horizon.
From appearances, it’s about half an hour out still. So long as you keep a brisk pace, you should be able to find prey to hunt well before they shake off their morning drowsiness.
You turn to set off, turning for the west when as you do, you notice a bright star in the sky. It’s the one you first noticed about three days ago that appeared in the northeast. Every night since the one you noticed it, it has moved a little further towards the southwest and grown a bit brighter.
But this is the first time you can recall seeing it at this hour with your own eyes, let alone see it visibly moving.
The star inches along for the southwest slowly, when all of a sudden, it picks up speed and zips over the horizon, much like an Archeops might drop out of a tree while on the hunt. It might have been your eyes playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn it grew visibly brighter for a moment before it vanished.
Perhaps it is one of the moving stars that sometimes appear in the sky, especially at night. But if it is one, it’s certainly a most peculiar specimen. Those stars, whether coming and going in the twinkling of an eye, or drifting in the sky for many nights, have majestic tails that follow them in their wake. The one you saw by contrast was barely a dot.
There were myths your mother told you about how some say those stars in the sky are themselves Pokémon. Ones with great power and unknowable ways. Perhaps that was one of their younglings? A most unimpressive one from its lack of a tail if so, a runt among stars, you muse.
You hear your stomach growl and turn away from the path of the star-runt as your mind returns to thoughts of your impending hunt. You raise your snout to sniff the air and feel the wind blow against it and your feathers.
It’s coming in from the north running inland from the sea. Good. Now you know what direction will best cover your scent as you go on your hunt.
Half an hour later, the sun is now starting to poke over the horizon and you have found your prey: a Bastiodon herd. You can only remain so quiet with your size, but the first of their numbers have just barely roused and are still drowsy and your distance helps make up for it.
You creep forward closer and closer to the treeline, trying to size up the members of their herd. Your hunt will go easiest if they break in confusion or panic, and you have just the means to do so in the early morning light.
You crouch and let out a bellowing roar, the racket startling the herd awake as you lunge in with fangs bared. All about you, the Bastiodon and their young scatter with cries of panic, your eyes falling on a Bastiodon before you who gets up and freezes after seeing you.
The Bastiodon pulls his tail in towards his legs and flinches as his innards sicken in fright. You charge the stunned creature with your jaws open wide when you are rammed from the side with a bellowing cry. You briefly see the fear-sick Bastiodon turn and flee, and get up to see another Bastiodon holding her head down to block your way and shakes it to mime a charge, with a pair hurriedly lumbering to her side.
She is attempting to rally their numbers, to band together into a living wall of armored heads and make it unsafe to attempt to take prey from among them. Such challenge to you as king cannot be tolerated, you must see to it that her fellows see that it is a mortal mistake.
You stomp the ground and make it tremble. Small cracks sprout in the dirt as the three Bastiodon lose their footing. You charge forward as the lead rallier stumbles up and attempts to charge you as you near, as you sidestep and your tail comes alive with flecks of blue fire that dance about it.
You swing it around with a crushing blow, knocking the lead Bastiodon off her feet and sending her flopping onto her side stunned. You carry on briefly towards the other two Bastiodon. They frantically stumble back from you in an attempt to fall back.
All as you had planned.
You wheel about and lunge at the Bastiodon still getting up from your Dragon Tail, knocking her down and sinking your fangs into the side of her neck. She shrieks in pain as your bite breaks hide and thrashes as your strong jaws hold their grip. Her strength gives out in your jaws and you let go, as she lies there dazed with blood trickling out, just faintly clinging to life.
You turn and spit up scales onto the ground, looking at the Bastiodon’s allies behind you. Their will to fight is gone, and they both lose their nerve and flee, the clearing filling with frantic cries that fade as the rest of the herd leaves their fallen comrade behind and you pant and size over your quarry.
It was a hunt harder-fought than most in your past, and had you not taken swift action, you could very well have been forced to limp away empty-jawed. But still, you are king and you are victorious, and before you dispatch your prey, it is only proper that all those who dwell in your territories know it.
You place a foot onto your prey and turn your head up, bellowing out your triumph. It tells of how you are king of this forest and your might has brought you victory once again. A claim of rightful reign over this place, and call for any who listen to challenge you if they dare.
That would normally be the end of things and you’d move on to dispatching your prey, but today, your roar trails off and your cry dies in your throat as you see a light shoot across the sky trailing smoke streaking from the still-dim southwestern portion of the horizon. Another appears, and then a third, a fourth, as the sky grow thicker and thicker with those strange lights from above.
One of them trails down towards the ground a little ways off towards the north. It lands with a dull thump, as smoke curls up from its direction above the treetops.
Before you can wonder to yourself what the fire from the sky is, the ground abruptly shakes much like it did with Earthquake, except far stronger. It knocks you off of the felled Bastiodon and you fall onto your side, righting yourself as you see trees topple to earth. Frightened shrieks ring out from the forest in all directions, and the ground near your feet visibly cracks from the tremors.
… Is this the doing of another Tyrantrum? You can’t explain the sky-fire but this tremor is much like the one you wield like hunting. You fight against the tremors and look around, snarling and loudly demanding the culprit to show themself. This is your forest and you are its king, you are confident in your might and fear not any challenger.
You are answered by a flash of heat and a loud thud, stumbling to the ground from a concussive wave and blast of dislodged dirt. You look off to the opposite end of the clearing and see the trees that were once there are now tangled splinters, with them and the surrounding survivors set awash in a curtain of flame.
You don’t know if this is the work of a challenger, but you know that whoever wields the sky-fire has strength far beyond your own. A flash of panic takes over you, and you turn and run from the clearing as fast as your legs and the churning earth underneath will allow.
The trees shake all about you and you hear others crash to earth unseen. A brief glance up reveals a flock of Archeops hurriedly taking flight, while below cries and screams ring out from closer to the ground. Coming from both Pokémon you count as prey and rivals alike.
You come to a smaller gap in the jungle, cast a glimpse off for the direction of your den and freeze. There is smoke curling up from its direction. Part of the bluff along the coast then collapses from the quake in a cloud of dust, right as another ball of sky-fire zooms past it.
Something is very wrong right now, and you’re not sure if any Pokémon would be capable of doing this. You briefly recount stories you’ve heard about legends where the earth would wake up and spew fire out in all directions from openings in the ground. This reminds you of that, except this fire comes from somewhere beyond the sea, from well beyond the horizon.
It is then that it occurs to you that the sky-fire seems to all be coming from the direction of the southwest.
From the direction that the star-runt fell over the horizon half an hour ago.
You are snapped to attention as a tree falls and glances against your shoulder and bellow in pain. You wrack your mind for any possible shelter you can turn to, when one comes to mind. There is a river nearby here. Shallow enough for you to ford, while broad enough to seek shelter from fire or crumbling earth.
It is the only hope you have right now.
You take off running back through the forest, stumbling ahead and glancing off trunk to trunk from the tremors. Against your kingly nature, you let out a yelp as a smaller ball of sky-fire slices through the canopy just in front of you and sets the branches in its wake ablaze. You screw your eyes shut and force yourself forward as embers fall on you, opening them again once you pass and turning them skywards.
What you see makes your eyes shrink, as above, little beads of sky-fire now fill the sky like hail, striking leaves overhead as others burn through and fall towards the ground like molten rain.
Perhaps it’s superstitious or jumping to conclusions, but in your gut, something tells you that this is because of the star-runt. Did it do this to your forest? Was it somehow knew about the way you slighted it?
Something pierces into your flank with burning pain and you scream in pain and bolt ahead as the smell of something burnt lingers with you. You don’t know what sort of territory you will rule as king after all of this, but at this point, you’re more concerned with merely keeping your head.
You hear running water, and much to your relief, you see the river up ahead. With every ounce of your strength, you fight the pain in your flank and run forward for the water’s safety. You burst from the cover of the treeline and feel the riverbank’s silt under your feet.
Then there’s a flash of heat from beside you and a deafening blast. You feel a crushing wave in the air and searing heat along your side and pitch forward into the river before everything goes black.
The next thing you remember is feeling the river all around your body and coughing up water from your lungs. Your vision is muddy at first and your breaths come shaky as aches and pains rack just about every part you can think of.
The ground is still shaking now, just as strong as you remembered when you blacked out. You smell smoke and as your vision, you see that you are lying in a shallower part of the river, and as you weakly turn your head, you see that both its banks are aflame as far as the eyes can see. Embers swirl up into the air from them, as the sky-fire continues coming down from beyond a smoky curtain, too thick to make out what time of day it is.
Grimace as your left leg hurts when you move it. You weakly turn your head to see and see that up and down your flank, your hide is blackened with ugly burns and that much of your plumage is charred down to the quills.
You feel a whimper in your throat but fight it back. You are the king of this forest. Even when fleeing, kings still have a level of dignity to maintain and do not whimper.
You try to stand up, but the pain in your left leg won’t let you. You hear sizzling and see that the smaller balls of sky-fire are still falling, as a few hit places in the river nearby you and hiss as they are extinguished. You look past and see various shapes slumped over in and around the water, the one nearest to you is an Aerodactyl, lying partly crumpled in the water with his wings splayed out and his head resting just above the surface, eyes closed. There are burnt holes in his wings’ membranes. You can’t tell whether or not he’s still breathing from your distance.
It then occurs to you that you don’t hear screams anymore. Just the sound of burning fire, distant thuds in the distance, and a dull roar that lingers in the background.
You turn your head towards the dull roar as you realize that it’s coming from the sea. There, from the light of the fire, you can make out a black-colored wall approaching, taller than the burning trees around you.
You see a trunk get caught on it, roll, and suddenly go dark. It then occurs to you that you know what the black wall is:
It’s the sea. Coming straight at you and sweeping away everything in its path.
This time, you don’t hold back the whimper in your throat, and lower your head and brace for the end. There is nothing more you can do now. If this is indeed the star-runt’s doing, it has felled you and all your realm.
And like a victorious king, it has every right to claim you.
The next thing you know, water comes over your body and sweeps you up. You tumble about in it and feel hard objects strike your body.
One of them hits your head, and everything goes black once again.
You’re waking up again. There’s fluid all around and as you crack your eyes open, see hazy and indistinct shapes through fluid with a greenish tint from above and below. You stir in a panic to try and get air, when it occurs to you that you’re still breathing and something is clamped tight over your snout. You can’t clearly make out your body right now other than hazy glimpses of dark-colored limbs and a tail.
You see indistinct shapes and lights through the fluid as two tall ones that dwarf you come to the front and stop. They move slightly, and there’s gurgling noises from below. The fluid drains and you drift down with it, until your feel cold metal brush against your hide. You lay there, breathing in and out as you blink away the liquid out of your eyes and the world starts to become clearer.
You’re lying on some sort of surface: metal on the bottom and you see metal on top, with some sort of clear substance all between them much as if it were the hollow of some sort of strange, hollow log. You feel fluid drip down your scales and look down and see they are brown. Your memory is hazy, but you remembered that they were a different color, even if this feels distantly familiar to you.
“The revival process is complete. It should be fine to disconnect him now.”
There are voices you can’t understand that come from outside the tube when a woosh rings out and it retracts. You see lights from above and reflexively whimper and cringe. Even in this strange place, the sky-fire is there, and you curl up and brace for the end.
“Easy, easy. You’re alright.”
You yelp as you feel tugs on your snout and keep your eyes screwed shut as something lifts your body up. There’s warmth from above but it’s not scorching, as you look own and see some strange, soft white covering swaddling you, a pair of limbs that are giant relative to your body holding you up from below.
It occurs to you that you’re being carried off by a predator, a fear you have not had since you were very young. You help against your muzzle and flail your limbs and squirm as the strange limbs fight to hold you still. You try to break free when suddenly something moves against your back and strokes slowly. Your breathing calms, as you crack your eyes back open.
You look past the white covering and see a strange, gangly creature in a sort of loose, white pelt with a fur-tuft looking down at you, which comes down to the sides of a strange head without visible scales, or feathers, or even fur beyond a couple patches over the creature’s brows. Its mouth curls up at its end, and it speaks in a soft and cooing voice.
“There, there. You’re okay, no. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Something about it feels strangely reassuring, when you feel your legs touch a surface that flexes under your weight when you’re held in place and suddenly the covering moves all up and down your scales. You squirm and try to call out in protest as it occurs to you that it’s wiping away the fluid. It lets go, as another creature in a white pelt comes forward, reared up to a height that looks positively gigantic. Its head-fur looks shorter, it has fur along the bottom of its mouth much like the beard of feathers you remembered you had before you woke up again, and a set of strange rings about its eyes that rest on long stalks coming from what you presume to be horns on the side of its head.
It glances you over briefly, before turning towards the other as it pushes the strange covering up and down your scales. It chuckles, as speaks up with strange, dissonant vocalizations you don’t understand.
“Sure looks different from that Jaw Fossil we found him as. Not bad for a Pokémon that spent millions of years stuck in sediment that was once at the bottom of a sea, if you ask me.”
Its hands go for your muzzle and you feel the pressure on it slacken, as it pulls it away from your eyes. With your jaws now freed, you lunge and clamp down on the white covering that keeps poking and prodding at your body, and vigorously shake it as you attempt to prove to it that you are a king and not its prey.
It’s warm and chewy, and gives no shrieks of pain or replies to your growls. It’s not alive, perhaps its a hide of some sort? You pause and look about your surroundings and see you’re in some sort of strange cave. The surface that gives way underfoot is green and feels soft but firm to the touch. To the sides are peculiar cave walls that look unnaturally straight, the cave floor does too with strange hatch-like patterns in the rock. As does the ceiling, with strange lights embedded in them that appear to lack the normal warmth of sunlight.
You look around bewildered, when long-tuft cups its fingers under your chin and strokes you.
“Welcome to our world, little guy. It’s not quite being king of the jungle, but we’re glad you’re here in it.”
You blink and settle in on the counter as the white-pelted creatures drift off, casting glances at you as they talk from further off in the room. You’re not sure what on earth happened, or if those things you thought were memories of the burning forest and being overtaken by the black waves were a nightmare of some sort. You also don’t know whether you are even safe right now. After all, the white-pelts are much larger than you, and took you from the strange tube to your present ledge as they pleased.
… You decide to test the order of this strange new world you’re in, and stand up, throwing your head back with a mighty roar.
… It’s smaller and less impressive than you remembered, but it makes both the white pelts on their two legs stiffen up and turn to see you. The one with the long tuft hurries over and places a blue berry in front of you. It pats you again, though this time its motions are more guarded and careful. As if chastened and put into place.
The white pelt drifts off again as you lower your jaws and tear into the berry, its flesh entering your mouth as you give a knowing grin.
Even in this diminished body, even in this strange place among strange creatures larger than you that you know naught about, you recognize clear as day the way they reacted.
They yielded to you, and they know that you are their king.
“... A Magikarp? Really?”
A disappointed grunt carries through the damp cave air, from the Dratini staring at you with an unimpressed frown. He lets his gaze linger on you, before turning his gaze up to a human child with a shock of red hair, a little duller in color than your scales.
“Lance, I realize that that human elder refused to get another dragon to partner with you, but surely there’s better teammates to start a team out with, aren’t there?”
You splash your fins and shrink back nervously from the pair. Humans in general look frightening with how big they are compared to you and your kind, even if this one is smaller than the ones that are fully grown.
Yes, you challenged him and he got you inside one of those ball things already, so if you agree, he’ll treat you as a partner, but why?
Most humans who come to Dragon’s Den come seeking strong Pokémon, and as a Magikarp… you’re not anything of the sort. The partner he already has doesn’t seem to particularly like you either, so why haven’t you just turned and swum away?
Your mind briefly thinks back to earlier in the day in the Dragon’s Den, when your fins grew tired and you swam off for a place to rest along its bed. You found one, in the shallows by a ruined chunk of bridge and were about to settle in, when a Horsea swooped in and took it right in front of you.
“H-Huh?! But that’s my-”
“My den now. Leave before I make you, Magikarp.”
You tried to brush past the Horsea and push it aside with your bulk, as squabbles among your kind are commonly settled. He wasn’t having any of it, and spewed up a vortex that felt burning in spite of being underwater and knocked you back. You were the Magikarp, and his kind was the one who could do more to hurt you than just push and splash…
“Okay! Okay! I’m going!”
Thus there was no point in continuing that battle, not when all it’d accomplish would be to get you left listing unconscious in the water and forced to begin your search anew feeling even more haggard and worn down.
You hurriedly swam off, towards the shrine in the center of the cave. Much to your relief, there were plenty of places there to rest, and much of them looked unclaimed. You made your way up to one towards the top, under the shadow of the wooden walkway about the shrine and began to settle in, when a flash of blue and white cut in and you saw a Dragonair swoop in, poking her head out from a pair of Dratini resting by her below.
“Hrmph, you know how things work, Magikarp. These dens are already taken.”
“B-But there’s nobody in them and I-”
“Would be my lunch if this weren’t a sacred place where it’s forbidden to take prey,” the Dragonair snarled back at you. “This is the Dragon’s Den, now move along.”
You yelped and hurriedly swam off as fast as your fins could carry you, lest the Dragonair be tempted to ignore local custom and make good on her threat. You lived in a place that was special for dragons, and as such, when it came to its workings, they had first say.
You decided to try your luck with the inner ring of rocks further out. Those weren’t as sought-after as resting places among the local dragons, and you figured that it was a decent chance to finally get some rest. As luck would have it, you found a place within a couple minutes, and settled in to rest your fins.
The next thing you knew, something smacked you hard in the face and sent you pinwheeling in the water. You briefly caught a glimpse of a Dragonite pulling his tail back his side, before you lay in the water in a groaning daze.
Right, that’s why you decided to try your luck with a human. You weren’t brave enough to leave Dragon’s Den entirely since the world outside is full of terrors, and death that comes suddenly from all imaginable directions. And humans are supposed to come to Dragon’s Den to partner with Pokémon and make them stronger, but…
You just can’t help but feel as if you’re making a mistake.
You start to turn away, when the human child stoops and pats his hand at the top of his head. He looks down at you as his mouth curls up and he speaks something in that peculiar tongue that humans have. You don’t understand any of it, but something about it is soothing in the tone of the human’s voice.
You briefly notice the Dratini hesitate, which makes you curious. Since the Dragon-type clearly understood parts of it that you didn’t.
“... What did he say?”
“That he thinks you have potential and knows you will be strong one day,” the Dratini answers, before turning away with a harrumph. “I’ll believe it when I see it, really.”
Things changed an awful lot since that fateful day, and in retrospect, much of it came as a whirlwind. You quickly learned a thing or two about how differently humans treated the process of giving names. Your human was Lance, your Dratini teammate was ‘Ryu’, and you were ‘Kouhaku’. With some help from Ryu, you learned to discern human cries, to tell when Lance wanted you two to swim one way or the next, or Ryu to use an attack… much as you did in battle with a pair of Poliwag in a river not far from home about a year after you met.
Lance ordered Ryu to get up close with them, fighting with Pounds and Dragon Rages. You however, as a Magikarp, he kept swimming at a distance. You were to swim circles about your enemies, Splash them when he called for it, and then hurry away.
“Ack!”
Which proved to be easier said than done when your foes could attack from a distance, as the Poliwag you were facing off with could that day. You flinched briefly from the swat and broke away as the Poliwag began to give chase, when Lance called out from the riverbank.
A flash of dragonfire sailed in that made the Poliwag list in the water and then Ryu came over for you to hide behind. After a brief moment’s stunning, the pair hastily swam off and fled, as Ryu called after with a sharp huff.
“And don’t come back! We dragons aren’t the kinds to let go of a slight!”
The river returned back to peace and quiet, leaving you and Ryu alone to swim back to your trainer waiting at the side.
Along the way, you glumly swam along. You’re supposed to be training to grow stronger, but you didn’t win that battle, it was Ryu who did all of the hard work. You looked at him on your way over to shore, and with a wavering voice piped up in protest.
“Ryu, wh-why do I have to be here? I can’t even do anything other than just swim around and splash right now!”
In the earliest days, Ryu might have said something snippy or mean-spirited in reply, but he’s stopped doing that for a while now. You don’t know whether it’s from the way Lance scolded him, or if he’s just grown to tolerate your presence somehow.
“Lance insisted that the best thing to do for now was simply to just hang tight in battle,” The Dragon-type sighed. “He says that it’ll help you build your nerves and get you familiar with taking orders.”
You sink in the water at the Dratini’s explanation. So you literally can’t do anything to help other than just being there? Ryu notices your mood sink and shakes his head as he swims along.
“Look, I don’t understand it either, Kouhaku,” the Dratini says. “But he insists that it’ll help us both as we grow and that it’s making you tougher.”
You wait by the riverbank with your fins listless and depressed, when you feel a pat from above. Lance is smiling down at you with a twinge of worry as he asks if he pushed you too hard in your latest fight. You see him with a few leaves of lettuce in his hand, a treat for a job well done that’s always fun to pull and tug apart in the water.
Your spirits lift a bit when he sets it out in front of you, when Ryu slithers onto shore for his turn of affection and looks back to you as you nose at your treat.
“Just hang in there a bit longer,” Ryu insists. “I know it doesn’t seem like things are going anywhere, but I’m sure it’ll pay off, alright?”
“A bit longer” indeed.
Two years after that moment, you and Ryu still were training in much the same fashion, but even so, quite a bit changed. You were now training in a land beyond the mountains east of the Dragon’s Den and Lance grew visibly taller and started wearing a worn cape from some tatty old costume—a marker of the sort of human that he wanted to be when he grew up. Ryu had become a Dragonair, every bit as big and imposing as the one that bullied you on the day you joined Lance in the Dragon’s Den, except he fought alongside you, and used his newfound length and size to shield you from blows more times than you could count. He no longer puts you down, and when you were feeling down, sometimes he’d go and try to cheer you up all on his own…
“Gah!”
And then there was you. Still a Magikarp after everything that had happened between now and then. Still only able to Splash and shove and swim around your foes when battling alongside Ryu, who this day were a pair of Goldeen.
Once again, you can’t do anything. Which the Goldeen nearest you is all too eager to remind you about.
“Hah! Don’t you ever get busy of doing something other than swimming around?”
You feel a pulse of anger under your scales, which has been building more and more since it’s just been years of swimming around and trying not to get hit by your foes as they mock you and you can’t do anything about it. You try to ignore them and stay focused, since when you get distracted, that’s when you’re most likely to lose from not listening to Lance’s calls and overlooking a foe’s move that you didn’t see coming. And from the way they’re moving, it shouldn’t be much longer until Ryu puts an end to the fight.
And then, something abruptly changes in the air. The Goldeen see something and there’s a flash of panic in their eyes before they dive underwater. Even the one that was just taunting just up and left.
“Huh? What’s-?”
Before you know it, you feel something sharp slice into your side. You cry out in pain and feel your body get pulled out of the water, dripping seawater below. Above you, you see brown and cream wings, along with talons latched onto your side.
“K-Kouhaku!”
Ryu’s voice cries out in alarm as dragonfire zips in above. There’s a squawk as the sharp grip lets go and you fall back to the sea with a splash. You lie there stunned as the world spins around your eyes, and your scales feel warm and your tongue tastes the tang of blood. Lance is calling out your name right now, his voice sounds genuinely scared, so does Ryu’s, as he knifes through the water and looks down at you wide-eyed
“Oh no no no, Kouhaku! I’m sorry! I d-didn’t mean to let you-!”
“That’s my prey, you stupid snake! Back off!”
There’s a flash of brown that dives in as Ryu cries out in pain. There’s a cut on his scales now as your attacker—a Pidgeotto—is back and tries to grab at you again to carry you off. Ryu desperately tries to wedge himself between you and the bird, and get you out of the way to safely attack the Flying-type.
As you’re unable to do anything yet again. This time just to lie here in the water, probably dying. It burns you up inside, like the Horsea’s Twister did. Or the Dragonair driving you off. Or the Dragonite’s tail slap. Or any number of blows and mocking jeers you’ve had to endure all these years because you were a Magikarp. Because you couldn’t do anything other than Splash and shove and swim around.
And then that something inside you snaps. That you will do something this time even if it kills you.
“Y-YOU!”
Your body feels warm and suddenly you rise up in the air. You briefly hear the Pidgeotto cry out and even hear Ryu and Lance’s voices yelp. You hear water churn as your vision leaves the water entirely much like when you were snatched and the sea’s surface grows farther and farther. When it stops, you can’t feel your front fins anymore and see that barbels are noticeably longer and blue.
You are now a Gyarados and your breaths come out hot and angry as you hear a faint splash and whirl your head towards where you last remembered seeing the Pidgeotto. It’s flying away now for dear life. And as it tears through the air, one thought fills your mind:
Everyone who hurt you for all these years must pay, starting with this accursed bird.
“DIE!”
You swim after the Pidgeotto, knifing after it in the water much like Ryu does to close the distance with foes and lunge after it once its underbelly comes into sight. The Pidgeotto looks down, sees your approaching maw and screams as it desperately banks and tries to get away. It almost does, but your jaws find purchase on its tail as it shrieks in pain. You snarl and drag it down to the sea as it squawks out frantic cries for help which as you pull it out of the air. About halfway down, the Pidgeotto realizes that help isn’t going to come, and his cries devolve into incoherent pleas for mercy as your once-hunter pathetically tries to beg you to spare his life.
You’re not interested in that. He dug his talons into you to carry you off and eat you not even a minute ago. He hurt Ryu with them. You’ll give him what he deserves and chew him to pieces, slowly.
You throw the Pidgeotto up and open your mouth to crush him between your jaws when a voice calling from shore makes you hesitate. The Pidgeotto slips between your teeth and hits the water, there’s some frantic wingbeats and a whimper as he pulls himself out the water as clumsily flees for dear life back for the forest with his tail held stiff and injured. And yet, in spite of it, the whole time, you don’t move to resume your pursuit.
Your attention is one Lance and Ryu back on shore, staring up at you. Ryu looks visibly terrified and is shaking like a leaf at your appearance. Lance looks a bit scared himself, he’s stiff and obviously unnerved and while it’s shakier than normal, he still calls out for you in that soothing tone of his he uses when trying to cheer you up.
He tells you that things are alright. That things are okay now.
You look down at your body and see that Lance and Ryu are so much smaller now. So’s the rest of the world. As your breaths slow down and calm, your thoughts turn back to when you were a Magikarp and how on that first day, Lance seemed so big and scary. You suppose it would only be natural the opposite would be true now that the scale is on the other fin.
As your breathing slows down, you remember Lance telling you that he knew you’d become big and strong, and you are big and strong now. Because of his unwavering faith in you, that even after years where seemingly nothing changed, that he kept training you, convinced that one day you two would share this sight.
There is only one thing left for you to do in that case.
You lower your head and bring it down, stopping just in front of Lance as Ryu lets out a low whimper and screws his eyes shut.
“Thank you for being there for me.”
Lance brings his hand up and pats you. You let out a content rumble. Ryu cracks his eyes open afterwards and slinks back nervously. You open your mouth to ask what on earth is his problem, when your thought turns back to a passing comment he made a couple years back.
“We dragons aren’t the kinds to let go of a slight!”
… Right. When you first started training, Ryu was downright awful to you, and he expects you to still remember that. You suppose you ought to rightfully be angry with that Ryu back then… but that Ryu doesn’t exist anymore. The one who does and stands before you today is older and wiser than the one back then. He is there for you when you’re not doing well, and put himself on the line to protect you when you were still small and weak.
“Both of you,” you say. “Just don’t expect me to take every hit for you for three years, Ryu. After all, I know you can do more than Splash during a fight.”
Ryu’s breaths grow more regular as he begins to calm down. He’s still on edge a bit and lets out a nervous titter, but you can see now he’s smiling and seems happy that you’re here.
“H-Heh, never thought you’d be looking down on me like this, Kouhaku.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle back. “Me either.”
It’s been years since the day you evolved, Lance now wears a far nicer cape, and apparently is a human seen as strong and commands respect from his peers. As are you as a Pokémon, as now, you’re a far stronger Pokémon than you ever dreamed of being when you first started out. So is Ryu for that matter—now a Dragonite—who’s there alongside you to keeps an eye on you when Lance during your swims like today as you slither into the water at the Dragon’s Den.
“Remember, Kouhaku. Just… try not to take anything the locals say personally, alright?”
Sometimes you feel a bit insulted by constantly being watched like that, but honestly… with the way your temper can be sometimes after evolving, it’s probably for the best. Not that you think it’ll be an issue during your swim today. The Horsea and Dratini and their kin don’t dare treat you the way they did when you were younger, and every once in a while, you’ll see a face you recognize from those days hurriedly shrink away as you approach.
That’s alone is already satisfying for you whenever you come back to the Dragon’s Den. But the thing about these visits that really lifts your mood up is hearing the awestruck words from your fellow Magikarp that live here.
“Wow! So big!”
“Did you beat your last challenger? It was easy, right?”
“When I’m all grown up, I want to be just like you!”
Something you’ve learned in the years since you’ve left is that you’re apparently not the only Gyarados to have roots from the Dragon’s Den. A number of Dragon Tamers in this land that start out like Lance choose apparently choose Magikarp of their own as their second teammates.
For all their insistence about how it’s because this is a sacred place, perhaps that has something to do with why the other dragons don’t dare prey on the Magikarp that live here.
You dive and let the water close in over your scales, as you snake around rocks and under wooden pylons as you please. All the while, your mind drifts towards your Lance and the experiences you two have had together.
Your trainer apparently tells other humans sometimes that ‘Not all dragons are Dragon-type Pokémon’. You’re sure that much of the dragons here in the Dragon’s Den wouldn’t agree with that, but in the end it doesn’t really matter.
After all, whenever you’re here, whatever they think of you and Gyarados deep down, they keep it to themselves and give you their respect. They understand that in the end, your might is like theirs and you can similarly make the world quake and tremble.
So if nothing else, you suppose you’ve convinced them that you’re like a dragon.
A disappointed grunt carries through the damp cave air, from the Dratini staring at you with an unimpressed frown. He lets his gaze linger on you, before turning his gaze up to a human child with a shock of red hair, a little duller in color than your scales.
“Lance, I realize that that human elder refused to get another dragon to partner with you, but surely there’s better teammates to start a team out with, aren’t there?”
You splash your fins and shrink back nervously from the pair. Humans in general look frightening with how big they are compared to you and your kind, even if this one is smaller than the ones that are fully grown.
Yes, you challenged him and he got you inside one of those ball things already, so if you agree, he’ll treat you as a partner, but why?
Most humans who come to Dragon’s Den come seeking strong Pokémon, and as a Magikarp… you’re not anything of the sort. The partner he already has doesn’t seem to particularly like you either, so why haven’t you just turned and swum away?
Your mind briefly thinks back to earlier in the day in the Dragon’s Den, when your fins grew tired and you swam off for a place to rest along its bed. You found one, in the shallows by a ruined chunk of bridge and were about to settle in, when a Horsea swooped in and took it right in front of you.
“H-Huh?! But that’s my-”
“My den now. Leave before I make you, Magikarp.”
You tried to brush past the Horsea and push it aside with your bulk, as squabbles among your kind are commonly settled. He wasn’t having any of it, and spewed up a vortex that felt burning in spite of being underwater and knocked you back. You were the Magikarp, and his kind was the one who could do more to hurt you than just push and splash…
“Okay! Okay! I’m going!”
Thus there was no point in continuing that battle, not when all it’d accomplish would be to get you left listing unconscious in the water and forced to begin your search anew feeling even more haggard and worn down.
You hurriedly swam off, towards the shrine in the center of the cave. Much to your relief, there were plenty of places there to rest, and much of them looked unclaimed. You made your way up to one towards the top, under the shadow of the wooden walkway about the shrine and began to settle in, when a flash of blue and white cut in and you saw a Dragonair swoop in, poking her head out from a pair of Dratini resting by her below.
“Hrmph, you know how things work, Magikarp. These dens are already taken.”
“B-But there’s nobody in them and I-”
“Would be my lunch if this weren’t a sacred place where it’s forbidden to take prey,” the Dragonair snarled back at you. “This is the Dragon’s Den, now move along.”
You yelped and hurriedly swam off as fast as your fins could carry you, lest the Dragonair be tempted to ignore local custom and make good on her threat. You lived in a place that was special for dragons, and as such, when it came to its workings, they had first say.
You decided to try your luck with the inner ring of rocks further out. Those weren’t as sought-after as resting places among the local dragons, and you figured that it was a decent chance to finally get some rest. As luck would have it, you found a place within a couple minutes, and settled in to rest your fins.
The next thing you knew, something smacked you hard in the face and sent you pinwheeling in the water. You briefly caught a glimpse of a Dragonite pulling his tail back his side, before you lay in the water in a groaning daze.
Right, that’s why you decided to try your luck with a human. You weren’t brave enough to leave Dragon’s Den entirely since the world outside is full of terrors, and death that comes suddenly from all imaginable directions. And humans are supposed to come to Dragon’s Den to partner with Pokémon and make them stronger, but…
You just can’t help but feel as if you’re making a mistake.
You start to turn away, when the human child stoops and pats his hand at the top of his head. He looks down at you as his mouth curls up and he speaks something in that peculiar tongue that humans have. You don’t understand any of it, but something about it is soothing in the tone of the human’s voice.
You briefly notice the Dratini hesitate, which makes you curious. Since the Dragon-type clearly understood parts of it that you didn’t.
“... What did he say?”
“That he thinks you have potential and knows you will be strong one day,” the Dratini answers, before turning away with a harrumph. “I’ll believe it when I see it, really.”
Things changed an awful lot since that fateful day, and in retrospect, much of it came as a whirlwind. You quickly learned a thing or two about how differently humans treated the process of giving names. Your human was Lance, your Dratini teammate was ‘Ryu’, and you were ‘Kouhaku’. With some help from Ryu, you learned to discern human cries, to tell when Lance wanted you two to swim one way or the next, or Ryu to use an attack… much as you did in battle with a pair of Poliwag in a river not far from home about a year after you met.
Lance ordered Ryu to get up close with them, fighting with Pounds and Dragon Rages. You however, as a Magikarp, he kept swimming at a distance. You were to swim circles about your enemies, Splash them when he called for it, and then hurry away.
“Ack!”
Which proved to be easier said than done when your foes could attack from a distance, as the Poliwag you were facing off with could that day. You flinched briefly from the swat and broke away as the Poliwag began to give chase, when Lance called out from the riverbank.
A flash of dragonfire sailed in that made the Poliwag list in the water and then Ryu came over for you to hide behind. After a brief moment’s stunning, the pair hastily swam off and fled, as Ryu called after with a sharp huff.
“And don’t come back! We dragons aren’t the kinds to let go of a slight!”
The river returned back to peace and quiet, leaving you and Ryu alone to swim back to your trainer waiting at the side.
Along the way, you glumly swam along. You’re supposed to be training to grow stronger, but you didn’t win that battle, it was Ryu who did all of the hard work. You looked at him on your way over to shore, and with a wavering voice piped up in protest.
“Ryu, wh-why do I have to be here? I can’t even do anything other than just swim around and splash right now!”
In the earliest days, Ryu might have said something snippy or mean-spirited in reply, but he’s stopped doing that for a while now. You don’t know whether it’s from the way Lance scolded him, or if he’s just grown to tolerate your presence somehow.
“Lance insisted that the best thing to do for now was simply to just hang tight in battle,” The Dragon-type sighed. “He says that it’ll help you build your nerves and get you familiar with taking orders.”
You sink in the water at the Dratini’s explanation. So you literally can’t do anything to help other than just being there? Ryu notices your mood sink and shakes his head as he swims along.
“Look, I don’t understand it either, Kouhaku,” the Dratini says. “But he insists that it’ll help us both as we grow and that it’s making you tougher.”
You wait by the riverbank with your fins listless and depressed, when you feel a pat from above. Lance is smiling down at you with a twinge of worry as he asks if he pushed you too hard in your latest fight. You see him with a few leaves of lettuce in his hand, a treat for a job well done that’s always fun to pull and tug apart in the water.
Your spirits lift a bit when he sets it out in front of you, when Ryu slithers onto shore for his turn of affection and looks back to you as you nose at your treat.
“Just hang in there a bit longer,” Ryu insists. “I know it doesn’t seem like things are going anywhere, but I’m sure it’ll pay off, alright?”
“A bit longer” indeed.
Two years after that moment, you and Ryu still were training in much the same fashion, but even so, quite a bit changed. You were now training in a land beyond the mountains east of the Dragon’s Den and Lance grew visibly taller and started wearing a worn cape from some tatty old costume—a marker of the sort of human that he wanted to be when he grew up. Ryu had become a Dragonair, every bit as big and imposing as the one that bullied you on the day you joined Lance in the Dragon’s Den, except he fought alongside you, and used his newfound length and size to shield you from blows more times than you could count. He no longer puts you down, and when you were feeling down, sometimes he’d go and try to cheer you up all on his own…
“Gah!”
And then there was you. Still a Magikarp after everything that had happened between now and then. Still only able to Splash and shove and swim around your foes when battling alongside Ryu, who this day were a pair of Goldeen.
Once again, you can’t do anything. Which the Goldeen nearest you is all too eager to remind you about.
“Hah! Don’t you ever get busy of doing something other than swimming around?”
You feel a pulse of anger under your scales, which has been building more and more since it’s just been years of swimming around and trying not to get hit by your foes as they mock you and you can’t do anything about it. You try to ignore them and stay focused, since when you get distracted, that’s when you’re most likely to lose from not listening to Lance’s calls and overlooking a foe’s move that you didn’t see coming. And from the way they’re moving, it shouldn’t be much longer until Ryu puts an end to the fight.
And then, something abruptly changes in the air. The Goldeen see something and there’s a flash of panic in their eyes before they dive underwater. Even the one that was just taunting just up and left.
“Huh? What’s-?”
Before you know it, you feel something sharp slice into your side. You cry out in pain and feel your body get pulled out of the water, dripping seawater below. Above you, you see brown and cream wings, along with talons latched onto your side.
“K-Kouhaku!”
Ryu’s voice cries out in alarm as dragonfire zips in above. There’s a squawk as the sharp grip lets go and you fall back to the sea with a splash. You lie there stunned as the world spins around your eyes, and your scales feel warm and your tongue tastes the tang of blood. Lance is calling out your name right now, his voice sounds genuinely scared, so does Ryu’s, as he knifes through the water and looks down at you wide-eyed
“Oh no no no, Kouhaku! I’m sorry! I d-didn’t mean to let you-!”
“That’s my prey, you stupid snake! Back off!”
There’s a flash of brown that dives in as Ryu cries out in pain. There’s a cut on his scales now as your attacker—a Pidgeotto—is back and tries to grab at you again to carry you off. Ryu desperately tries to wedge himself between you and the bird, and get you out of the way to safely attack the Flying-type.
As you’re unable to do anything yet again. This time just to lie here in the water, probably dying. It burns you up inside, like the Horsea’s Twister did. Or the Dragonair driving you off. Or the Dragonite’s tail slap. Or any number of blows and mocking jeers you’ve had to endure all these years because you were a Magikarp. Because you couldn’t do anything other than Splash and shove and swim around.
And then that something inside you snaps. That you will do something this time even if it kills you.
“Y-YOU!”
Your body feels warm and suddenly you rise up in the air. You briefly hear the Pidgeotto cry out and even hear Ryu and Lance’s voices yelp. You hear water churn as your vision leaves the water entirely much like when you were snatched and the sea’s surface grows farther and farther. When it stops, you can’t feel your front fins anymore and see that barbels are noticeably longer and blue.
You are now a Gyarados and your breaths come out hot and angry as you hear a faint splash and whirl your head towards where you last remembered seeing the Pidgeotto. It’s flying away now for dear life. And as it tears through the air, one thought fills your mind:
Everyone who hurt you for all these years must pay, starting with this accursed bird.
“DIE!”
You swim after the Pidgeotto, knifing after it in the water much like Ryu does to close the distance with foes and lunge after it once its underbelly comes into sight. The Pidgeotto looks down, sees your approaching maw and screams as it desperately banks and tries to get away. It almost does, but your jaws find purchase on its tail as it shrieks in pain. You snarl and drag it down to the sea as it squawks out frantic cries for help which as you pull it out of the air. About halfway down, the Pidgeotto realizes that help isn’t going to come, and his cries devolve into incoherent pleas for mercy as your once-hunter pathetically tries to beg you to spare his life.
You’re not interested in that. He dug his talons into you to carry you off and eat you not even a minute ago. He hurt Ryu with them. You’ll give him what he deserves and chew him to pieces, slowly.
You throw the Pidgeotto up and open your mouth to crush him between your jaws when a voice calling from shore makes you hesitate. The Pidgeotto slips between your teeth and hits the water, there’s some frantic wingbeats and a whimper as he pulls himself out the water as clumsily flees for dear life back for the forest with his tail held stiff and injured. And yet, in spite of it, the whole time, you don’t move to resume your pursuit.
Your attention is one Lance and Ryu back on shore, staring up at you. Ryu looks visibly terrified and is shaking like a leaf at your appearance. Lance looks a bit scared himself, he’s stiff and obviously unnerved and while it’s shakier than normal, he still calls out for you in that soothing tone of his he uses when trying to cheer you up.
He tells you that things are alright. That things are okay now.
You look down at your body and see that Lance and Ryu are so much smaller now. So’s the rest of the world. As your breaths slow down and calm, your thoughts turn back to when you were a Magikarp and how on that first day, Lance seemed so big and scary. You suppose it would only be natural the opposite would be true now that the scale is on the other fin.
As your breathing slows down, you remember Lance telling you that he knew you’d become big and strong, and you are big and strong now. Because of his unwavering faith in you, that even after years where seemingly nothing changed, that he kept training you, convinced that one day you two would share this sight.
There is only one thing left for you to do in that case.
You lower your head and bring it down, stopping just in front of Lance as Ryu lets out a low whimper and screws his eyes shut.
“Thank you for being there for me.”
Lance brings his hand up and pats you. You let out a content rumble. Ryu cracks his eyes open afterwards and slinks back nervously. You open your mouth to ask what on earth is his problem, when your thought turns back to a passing comment he made a couple years back.
“We dragons aren’t the kinds to let go of a slight!”
… Right. When you first started training, Ryu was downright awful to you, and he expects you to still remember that. You suppose you ought to rightfully be angry with that Ryu back then… but that Ryu doesn’t exist anymore. The one who does and stands before you today is older and wiser than the one back then. He is there for you when you’re not doing well, and put himself on the line to protect you when you were still small and weak.
“Both of you,” you say. “Just don’t expect me to take every hit for you for three years, Ryu. After all, I know you can do more than Splash during a fight.”
Ryu’s breaths grow more regular as he begins to calm down. He’s still on edge a bit and lets out a nervous titter, but you can see now he’s smiling and seems happy that you’re here.
“H-Heh, never thought you’d be looking down on me like this, Kouhaku.”
“Yeah,” you chuckle back. “Me either.”
It’s been years since the day you evolved, Lance now wears a far nicer cape, and apparently is a human seen as strong and commands respect from his peers. As are you as a Pokémon, as now, you’re a far stronger Pokémon than you ever dreamed of being when you first started out. So is Ryu for that matter—now a Dragonite—who’s there alongside you to keeps an eye on you when Lance during your swims like today as you slither into the water at the Dragon’s Den.
“Remember, Kouhaku. Just… try not to take anything the locals say personally, alright?”
Sometimes you feel a bit insulted by constantly being watched like that, but honestly… with the way your temper can be sometimes after evolving, it’s probably for the best. Not that you think it’ll be an issue during your swim today. The Horsea and Dratini and their kin don’t dare treat you the way they did when you were younger, and every once in a while, you’ll see a face you recognize from those days hurriedly shrink away as you approach.
That’s alone is already satisfying for you whenever you come back to the Dragon’s Den. But the thing about these visits that really lifts your mood up is hearing the awestruck words from your fellow Magikarp that live here.
“Wow! So big!”
“Did you beat your last challenger? It was easy, right?”
“When I’m all grown up, I want to be just like you!”
Something you’ve learned in the years since you’ve left is that you’re apparently not the only Gyarados to have roots from the Dragon’s Den. A number of Dragon Tamers in this land that start out like Lance choose apparently choose Magikarp of their own as their second teammates.
For all their insistence about how it’s because this is a sacred place, perhaps that has something to do with why the other dragons don’t dare prey on the Magikarp that live here.
You dive and let the water close in over your scales, as you snake around rocks and under wooden pylons as you please. All the while, your mind drifts towards your Lance and the experiences you two have had together.
Your trainer apparently tells other humans sometimes that ‘Not all dragons are Dragon-type Pokémon’. You’re sure that much of the dragons here in the Dragon’s Den wouldn’t agree with that, but in the end it doesn’t really matter.
After all, whenever you’re here, whatever they think of you and Gyarados deep down, they keep it to themselves and give you their respect. They understand that in the end, your might is like theirs and you can similarly make the world quake and tremble.
So if nothing else, you suppose you’ve convinced them that you’re like a dragon.
THUMP!
A loud clatter fills the room after you knock your head against the wall of the room you’re in. You shuffle back, see a small impression in it, and settle down against the carpet with a grumbling sigh.
“I should’ve just gone along with everyone in my Pokéball.”
You settle down with a low grunt and look about your surroundings, or at least as much as your now cumbersome and bulky body will allow. It’s somehow smaller and more cramped than your trainer’s bedroom, with a bed laid out alongside to the right still mussed and unmade, and a desk and a stand with the squarish ‘television’ set on it wedged in the corner with little dolls set on it. The few constants from the room back home.
You’re in a room in what humans apparently call a ‘dorm’, in a large city away from where you, your trainer, and your companions grew up. He apparently had to come here for some ‘college’ thing, which takes up much of his time either with studies or with human friends, especially for something called ‘Lann Parties’ or something like that, hence why the silver cube with a handle coming out its back isn’t attached to the television with cables right now.
Your trainer and his life have changed a lot in the span of a few years. He’s grown visibly taller and his voice is now deeper, and most of your friends have evolved—other than Roy, who insists he won’t remain a Wartortle for long.
Eira’s now a Marowak, Aries’ an Ampharos, even Jaki’s no longer a Murkrow thanks to a lucky break that helped your trainer get a Dusk Stone. All of them were excited for their new forms and all of you were excited for them.
And then there’s you. Which on days like today, makes you wonder if you’d have been better off holding back and not evolving into this slow, unwieldy block. Your teammates reassure you that you’re just as quick as you used to be as a Bagon, but it’s much harder to move around with the shell all about your body, and you constantly have to ask your friends to slow down for you. Even Roy sometimes, and he’s a Wartortle for crying out loud!
Just getting around is now cumbersome, and you felt it even on the occasions where Calvin gathered enough smaller air balloons to get you off the ground. You’ve given up on trying to fly while in this form, since the one time you tried jumping a ledge to test your chances, you rolled and got stuck on your back and just stayed there for a couple hours… with no company other than Jaki pointing and laughing at you until your other teammates came and helped.
If only it’d occurred to you you didn’t have arms to flap. It could’ve spared you the humiliation of lying and flailing helplessly calling out for help like that.
Maybe you should just go find a cave to hide in until you’re a Salamence. It’s said that Shelgon do just that in the wild, and from your experiences, you’re starting to see the appeal. To have a dragon’s den all for one’s self. A place to lay and rest, without ever having to feel like you’re getting left behind by the world.
You hear the door open and feel something heavy thump against your side and something clatter to you at rest from above. You have trouble seeing past you, when your trainer’s legs and Roy pass, the Wartortle putting a claw to his mouth as he speaks up and and calls out.
“Marl? We’re home!”
You growl as a flash of anger comes over you and the pair turn to you. You can’t make out your trainer’s expression from your field of view, but Roy is visibly taken aback and mortified. They spent all night without you just so that way they’d forget you’d exist when they came back?!
“Ack! Sorry! We didn’t realize that you were resting there-!”
“Yeah, and I didn’t realize that I was just the new shelf to set random junk on!”
You buck the object off your shell in front of you, and before it hits the ground, you spew dragonfire at it to send it alight. You see a silver blur launch across the room, where it slams into the wall over the bed, and drops down, bounces, and lands on the carpet. There’s a dent where it struck, when you look down at the still-smoldering lump and freeze.
It’s the silver cube with its handle. Except the bottom is all charred, and one of the top corners now looks looks dented and discolored.
You immediately grimace as it occurs to you that you shouldn’t have done that. That box was a gift given to your trainer by his parents, and such objects in general tend to be regarded by humans as treasures that they jealously guard.
You briefly see him stoop down and look at it, before he looks at you with a sharp frown, the one he makes during those times where he’s upset with you. Roy’s face looks little better when it occurs to you that your trainer sometimes shares the images that he makes through those boxes with you and your teammates, and you just torched the only one your trainer had right now in a fit of pique.
“A-Ack! Wait! I can-!”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. There’s a flash of light, as the surrounding dorm fades away from your sight.
Well, you’re in your Pokéball now. Getting that regret of yours taken care of, if obviously too late. There’s the simulated bluffs and mountainous caves as normal, as you rest in a cave, stealing glances in the world outside through the sky overhead.
The whole time, you briefly saw your trainer with his head turned down and talking. Probably with Roy, you guess. But it’s not like him to keep you waiting inside your Pokéball this long, since normally, he has you back out and with your companions as soon as he can.
It occurs that he’s probably mad at you. After all, that was a treasure of his that you just destroyed. B-But you weren’t the one who started this! He was the one who ignored you first! Why on earth should you be sorry about things before he is?
You see your trainer’s hand in the sky above, when your surroundings fade and you find yourself back in the dorm room. You turn and see Roy and your trainer waiting, before you promptly turn away with a huff. There’s a moment of silence, before Roy’s voice speaks up.
“... Marl.”
“I’m not saying sorry until Calvin does first,” you snarl.
“Marl.”
That voice sounds serious, and you waver and grudgingly turn to see the Wartortle looking eyes at you with a stern frown.
“You could’ve gotten us kicked out of the dorm by throwing attacks around inside like that.”
You hesitate and turn your eyes aside as a pang of regret comes over you. You hadn’t ever meant to get everyone into trouble like that. You just wanted to send a message about being respected. Even so, you stubbornly refuse to apologize first. You are a dragon and you were wronged first, after everything that’s happened today, you refuse to let yourself look weak on top of it.
“Calvin says he’s sorry for using you as a shelf. He was tired from a long day and not paying attention,” the Wartortle’s voice sighs. “As for the game console…”
You hear jostling noises as you turn and see Roy fetch the damaged cube by its handle in front of your trainer, holding it up before you with a sigh.
“The good news is that it still works when it’s plugged into the TV, but it’s definitely not going to look the same ever again,” he explains. “And the damage you left behind is something Calvin is going to need to pay for with that money of his. And Calvin says that some things will need to change from all of this.”
You start to feel genuinely worried now. ‘Some things will need to change’? Like you? But what could possibly change from the way you just sit and stand around most of the time…
Your heart and breath picks up a bit. You didn’t think that your trainer would ever be the type, but…
“S-So he’s kicking me off the team? I-Is that it?”
“Actually… I tried to pass along what was going on to Calvin. That’s why it took so long for him to let you back out,” the Wartortle explains, shaking her head back. “I think he got the gist of things and he’d like to spend some time with you to make you feel a bit less ignored.”
Your breathing calms down and you look up at your trainer. His face is as hard to place as it always is, but even if it’s upset, you pick up a twinge of regret on it. Much like your own.
… You don’t know for sure if Roy isn’t just telling you what you want to hear, but your trainer apparently did apologize for his slight. You’re not sure what he has in mind, but you suppose that you can hear him out about how he proposes to make things right.
“... What does he want me to do?”
“Well, we’re going to need a new game console,” Roy explains. “He’d like you to come along with him as he gets a replacement from the department store tomorrow.”
You frown and settle to the ground, turning away as a grumbling growl comes from your throat.
“Seriously? His idea of making things up to me is forcing me to walk around with these legs and my heavy shell?”
“Not all the way, just when he gets to the part with the game section.”
You hesitate and size up your trainer and his starter for a brief moment. You’re not convinced in the slightest that this will make you feel better… but you suppose that you’ve wronged your trainer and your other teammates too. He made an effort to try and make things better, so…
“... Fine, I’ll give it a shot.”
The next day, your trainer set off from the dorm brought you and your teammates along on his Pokéball holster as you mope in one of the simulated caves in your Pokéball. It’s a busier than normal judging by all the people and Pokémon you see pass through the sky as translucent images as your trainer goes about on the street and hops buses before approaching a multistory building.
… You know that you agreed to come to a department store alongside your trainer, but you’re starting to have second thoughts. With all these people and Pokémon around, you can already tell that it’ll be easy to get separated in the crowds from the others as you follow along.
You grumble to yourself and lay against the ground of your mock cave, when your surroundings melt away and you find yourself standing amidst of sea of legs. That’s the department store alright, but wait, something’s different. You feel the sun beam down on you and look up, seeing a blue sky and white clouds overhead.
“Huh? What are we doing outside?” you ask. “I thought that we were going to the department-”
A cry from your side turns you to see stalls all about you, when you see your trainer walk alongside you. Roy steps forward afterwards, pawing at the back of his head.
“We did, we’re just in a bit of a different part of it than normal,” Roy explains.. “Also, Calvin never said that we were getting a new console. Those room repairs probably aren’t going to be cheap, after all.”
… He and your trainer are never going to let you live this down. You can already tell.
“Look, just replace the console with one that looks like it and let’s go home,” you growl. “The sooner we can forget this ever happened, the better.”
Roy hesitates a moment, before hanging his head with a low sigh.
“... You’re the boss, though I can’t guarantee everything will make it through translation. You know how humans can be sometimes,” he says. “Though it should be the third stall up on the left.”
You make your way forward step by step, as Roy and your trainer steadily keep pace. The crowds are still disorienting, but you’re quietly grateful that this time, you’re not falling behind. The stalls have all sorts of odds and ends set out. One has a row of TVs of various shapes and colors set out, another fencing that doesn’t look all that sturdy. Why there’s even one that has dolls made to look like various Pokémon set out, with a Wailmer and a Rhydon one catching your eye.
You freeze up from hearing a cry from ahead, along with the patter of running feet. You look up, and a human tyke not much taller than you are comes running over, eyes wide as he points and cries out at you excitedly much to your blinking confusion. He even approaches you with outstretched hand, when you shift back with a growl and cast an aside glance at Roy.
“Roy, what’s going on?”
“You’ve got a bit of a fan, it looks like,” he tells you. “He was saying that you looked big and strong.”
You blink in response. While you know that you’re at least tougher than when you were a Bagon, you still find yourself taken aback. Even in this present form of yours, this human is impressed?
“... He thinks that I’m big and strong?”
“Well, yeah,” Roy says. “You are a dragon. Humans tend to see you like that.”
You feel a twinge of pride when you feel your trainer pat along the top of the shell. Roy joins in at the side, you’re about to ask why when you see the younger child is approaching, hand outstretched. The Wartortle turns to you and gives a sheepish grin.
“I don’t suppose you’d be down to let the kid get in a quick pat?”
You hesitate a moment, before pausing, and giving a wary glance back.
“... If it’s quick, sure.”
You hold still and brace yourself, half-expecting the human child to poke you in the eye. Your trainer says something and the child moves his hand towards the base of your shelled body, cupping it and stroking near your legs where you have the most feeling.
It feels more satisfying than you expected, and you can’t help but let out a content rumble. The human child looks happy, too, before he turns and waves and then leaves. You weren’t expecting someone to be impressed with the way you are as a Shelgon. Even if it doesn’t change how much of a chore moving around is, it’s quite a silver lining. You’re snapped back to attention by a paw at your side, as you see Roy setting forth alongside your trainer, and giving a quiet sigh.
“Sorry for the holdup, Marl,” the Wartortle says. “I suppose we should hurry on over to that game stand.”
Right. You suppose you did say you wanted that, even if now you’re not as sure as you were just a little earlier that you wanted to get things done with right away. Before long, you make it to the game stand, which is laden with boxes and machines of various sorts, including a number that are the same as the old ones that used to be in your trainer’s room at home a few years ago.
Roy steps forward and gets to work trying to help point things out for your trainer. You suppose that you should be satisfied since you’ve gotten what you wanted and this errand will soon be over.
It’s at that point that you feel a strong gust of wind which nips at the stands’ awnings. You know that you’re outside the main Department Store building right now, but something about it was stronger than expected. You see that it’s coming from past the stand, and without thinking you go ahead and drift off, following the wind blowing in your face until you hear a metallic clang.
“... Huh?!”
You look up and see that you’ve run into a railing, while there below you are rooftops and streets, from how small the humans and Pokémon in them look, you can tell that you’re fairly high up. You glance up and see the sky and clouds overhead as the wind blows in your face. You know better than to assume that you’ll fly by leaping off of here, but it’s still most of the way there.
You hop in place as the wind blows, and for a second, you don’t remember your heavy shell. It’s almost like having those wings on your back that you’ll have one day, with the wind in your face, looking down at the world from above.
“Marl? Where are…?”
You snap back to attention after hearing Roy’s voice and turn to see him and your trainer approaching. The Wartortle sees you at the railing, as he cracks a sheepish grin.
“Guess the surprise is out of the bag now, huh?”
You blink as you trade glances between Roy and your trainer, and warily raise a brow.
“Wait, you told to come here?” you ask. “On purpose?”
“Well, it took some effort, but yeah. It’s not quite tugging you around with an Air Balloon again,” he says. “But I figured the view and the wind against your face would cheer you up a bit.”
Your trainer really must’ve wanted to make things up to you. Whatever worries you had about him being mad at you, they’re gone now, as you go up and nudge at him with a grateful rumble.
In the process you notice that something is wrong. You glance at the shopping bag your trainer’s replacement cube is supposed to be in, and notice that it looks unusually thin.
“... Wait, what sort of replacement game console is that? That doesn’t look like a cube at all.”
“It’s more something you add onto one, really. It wound up being quite a bit cheaper than getting another console,” Roy explains. “Guess he must have some nostalgia for the old thing, that or else he likes having it around as a reminder to pay more attention to us.”
He pulls it partway out of the bag, it’s a silver device that looks like a base of some sort, with one end raised with a port on it. There’s a disc in a clear case of some sort, along with another with various creatures in front of a banded background, with black-and-red glyphs on it set against a brick wall.
“He used the leftover money this game about those cartoon monsters that he grew up with,” he explains. “Said he wanted to bring the whole team out and show it off like the old days.”
You stare at Roy for a moment as he paws at his shoulder, before he looks away uneasily with a low murmur.
“I know it’s not what you asked for, but you’re not too upset about it, are you?”
You hesitate, before you narrow your eyes back and speak up with a taunting huff.
“Guess that depends on whether or not I feel he wasted his money. Only one way to find out.” you chuckle, before trailing off.
“... But before we do that. Could we stay here for just a little bit longer?”
Roy passed along your request to your trainer, and before you knew it, one thing led to another and a good half the day flew by on that rooftop. You’re back home now and it’s night, with all your teammates out and about, including the ones who were home with your trainer’s family at the time called up for the occasion.
It’s been a while since your trainer started showing off his new game, and most of your teammates are busy with their own things now elsewhere in the dorm room. You and Roy however, remain watching, at a TV brought off the shelf and down to floor level, with the silver cube placed on top.
That stand thing that your trainer bought for the cube did a better job at hiding the damage than you thought. And aside from the scorch marks poking up from the bottom when you look at it, and the damaged top edge, it looks almost like it did when your trainer first brought it with him from home.
You settle against your trainer as he maneuvers a human in a trenchcoat through what looks like a desert town, to your left, Roy’s sprawled out with a cheeky grin.
“Hah! That sure looks a lot more like real life than the older games, don’t you think?” he chuckles. “I’m sure going to miss being able to do this when I’m finally all evolved!”
You find it hard to believe yourself, since it looks so different from those ones that your trainer used to play. But it’s got the same monsters in it, and your trainer stops to pat you at his side every now and then just as he did when you were a Bagon.
… In its own way, it really does feel like you’re back at home.
“So what do you think, was it worth it, Marl?”
It then dawns on you, you don’t need to find a dragon’s den to call your own and hide away in. Even if it’s not as lonely what those ones in nature would normally be, you have one right here and now. Yes, the one in your ball, but you have a real one too. Right here, in this darkened little room alongside your teammates, just wiling away the time over simple pleasures together.
… You think that you like it more this way.
“Yeah, I think so.”
A loud clatter fills the room after you knock your head against the wall of the room you’re in. You shuffle back, see a small impression in it, and settle down against the carpet with a grumbling sigh.
“I should’ve just gone along with everyone in my Pokéball.”
You settle down with a low grunt and look about your surroundings, or at least as much as your now cumbersome and bulky body will allow. It’s somehow smaller and more cramped than your trainer’s bedroom, with a bed laid out alongside to the right still mussed and unmade, and a desk and a stand with the squarish ‘television’ set on it wedged in the corner with little dolls set on it. The few constants from the room back home.
You’re in a room in what humans apparently call a ‘dorm’, in a large city away from where you, your trainer, and your companions grew up. He apparently had to come here for some ‘college’ thing, which takes up much of his time either with studies or with human friends, especially for something called ‘Lann Parties’ or something like that, hence why the silver cube with a handle coming out its back isn’t attached to the television with cables right now.
Your trainer and his life have changed a lot in the span of a few years. He’s grown visibly taller and his voice is now deeper, and most of your friends have evolved—other than Roy, who insists he won’t remain a Wartortle for long.
Eira’s now a Marowak, Aries’ an Ampharos, even Jaki’s no longer a Murkrow thanks to a lucky break that helped your trainer get a Dusk Stone. All of them were excited for their new forms and all of you were excited for them.
And then there’s you. Which on days like today, makes you wonder if you’d have been better off holding back and not evolving into this slow, unwieldy block. Your teammates reassure you that you’re just as quick as you used to be as a Bagon, but it’s much harder to move around with the shell all about your body, and you constantly have to ask your friends to slow down for you. Even Roy sometimes, and he’s a Wartortle for crying out loud!
Just getting around is now cumbersome, and you felt it even on the occasions where Calvin gathered enough smaller air balloons to get you off the ground. You’ve given up on trying to fly while in this form, since the one time you tried jumping a ledge to test your chances, you rolled and got stuck on your back and just stayed there for a couple hours… with no company other than Jaki pointing and laughing at you until your other teammates came and helped.
If only it’d occurred to you you didn’t have arms to flap. It could’ve spared you the humiliation of lying and flailing helplessly calling out for help like that.
Maybe you should just go find a cave to hide in until you’re a Salamence. It’s said that Shelgon do just that in the wild, and from your experiences, you’re starting to see the appeal. To have a dragon’s den all for one’s self. A place to lay and rest, without ever having to feel like you’re getting left behind by the world.
You hear the door open and feel something heavy thump against your side and something clatter to you at rest from above. You have trouble seeing past you, when your trainer’s legs and Roy pass, the Wartortle putting a claw to his mouth as he speaks up and and calls out.
“Marl? We’re home!”
You growl as a flash of anger comes over you and the pair turn to you. You can’t make out your trainer’s expression from your field of view, but Roy is visibly taken aback and mortified. They spent all night without you just so that way they’d forget you’d exist when they came back?!
“Ack! Sorry! We didn’t realize that you were resting there-!”
“Yeah, and I didn’t realize that I was just the new shelf to set random junk on!”
You buck the object off your shell in front of you, and before it hits the ground, you spew dragonfire at it to send it alight. You see a silver blur launch across the room, where it slams into the wall over the bed, and drops down, bounces, and lands on the carpet. There’s a dent where it struck, when you look down at the still-smoldering lump and freeze.
It’s the silver cube with its handle. Except the bottom is all charred, and one of the top corners now looks looks dented and discolored.
You immediately grimace as it occurs to you that you shouldn’t have done that. That box was a gift given to your trainer by his parents, and such objects in general tend to be regarded by humans as treasures that they jealously guard.
You briefly see him stoop down and look at it, before he looks at you with a sharp frown, the one he makes during those times where he’s upset with you. Roy’s face looks little better when it occurs to you that your trainer sometimes shares the images that he makes through those boxes with you and your teammates, and you just torched the only one your trainer had right now in a fit of pique.
“A-Ack! Wait! I can-!”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. There’s a flash of light, as the surrounding dorm fades away from your sight.
Well, you’re in your Pokéball now. Getting that regret of yours taken care of, if obviously too late. There’s the simulated bluffs and mountainous caves as normal, as you rest in a cave, stealing glances in the world outside through the sky overhead.
The whole time, you briefly saw your trainer with his head turned down and talking. Probably with Roy, you guess. But it’s not like him to keep you waiting inside your Pokéball this long, since normally, he has you back out and with your companions as soon as he can.
It occurs that he’s probably mad at you. After all, that was a treasure of his that you just destroyed. B-But you weren’t the one who started this! He was the one who ignored you first! Why on earth should you be sorry about things before he is?
You see your trainer’s hand in the sky above, when your surroundings fade and you find yourself back in the dorm room. You turn and see Roy and your trainer waiting, before you promptly turn away with a huff. There’s a moment of silence, before Roy’s voice speaks up.
“... Marl.”
“I’m not saying sorry until Calvin does first,” you snarl.
“Marl.”
That voice sounds serious, and you waver and grudgingly turn to see the Wartortle looking eyes at you with a stern frown.
“You could’ve gotten us kicked out of the dorm by throwing attacks around inside like that.”
You hesitate and turn your eyes aside as a pang of regret comes over you. You hadn’t ever meant to get everyone into trouble like that. You just wanted to send a message about being respected. Even so, you stubbornly refuse to apologize first. You are a dragon and you were wronged first, after everything that’s happened today, you refuse to let yourself look weak on top of it.
“Calvin says he’s sorry for using you as a shelf. He was tired from a long day and not paying attention,” the Wartortle’s voice sighs. “As for the game console…”
You hear jostling noises as you turn and see Roy fetch the damaged cube by its handle in front of your trainer, holding it up before you with a sigh.
“The good news is that it still works when it’s plugged into the TV, but it’s definitely not going to look the same ever again,” he explains. “And the damage you left behind is something Calvin is going to need to pay for with that money of his. And Calvin says that some things will need to change from all of this.”
You start to feel genuinely worried now. ‘Some things will need to change’? Like you? But what could possibly change from the way you just sit and stand around most of the time…
Your heart and breath picks up a bit. You didn’t think that your trainer would ever be the type, but…
“S-So he’s kicking me off the team? I-Is that it?”
“Actually… I tried to pass along what was going on to Calvin. That’s why it took so long for him to let you back out,” the Wartortle explains, shaking her head back. “I think he got the gist of things and he’d like to spend some time with you to make you feel a bit less ignored.”
Your breathing calms down and you look up at your trainer. His face is as hard to place as it always is, but even if it’s upset, you pick up a twinge of regret on it. Much like your own.
… You don’t know for sure if Roy isn’t just telling you what you want to hear, but your trainer apparently did apologize for his slight. You’re not sure what he has in mind, but you suppose that you can hear him out about how he proposes to make things right.
“... What does he want me to do?”
“Well, we’re going to need a new game console,” Roy explains. “He’d like you to come along with him as he gets a replacement from the department store tomorrow.”
You frown and settle to the ground, turning away as a grumbling growl comes from your throat.
“Seriously? His idea of making things up to me is forcing me to walk around with these legs and my heavy shell?”
“Not all the way, just when he gets to the part with the game section.”
You hesitate and size up your trainer and his starter for a brief moment. You’re not convinced in the slightest that this will make you feel better… but you suppose that you’ve wronged your trainer and your other teammates too. He made an effort to try and make things better, so…
“... Fine, I’ll give it a shot.”
The next day, your trainer set off from the dorm brought you and your teammates along on his Pokéball holster as you mope in one of the simulated caves in your Pokéball. It’s a busier than normal judging by all the people and Pokémon you see pass through the sky as translucent images as your trainer goes about on the street and hops buses before approaching a multistory building.
… You know that you agreed to come to a department store alongside your trainer, but you’re starting to have second thoughts. With all these people and Pokémon around, you can already tell that it’ll be easy to get separated in the crowds from the others as you follow along.
You grumble to yourself and lay against the ground of your mock cave, when your surroundings melt away and you find yourself standing amidst of sea of legs. That’s the department store alright, but wait, something’s different. You feel the sun beam down on you and look up, seeing a blue sky and white clouds overhead.
“Huh? What are we doing outside?” you ask. “I thought that we were going to the department-”
A cry from your side turns you to see stalls all about you, when you see your trainer walk alongside you. Roy steps forward afterwards, pawing at the back of his head.
“We did, we’re just in a bit of a different part of it than normal,” Roy explains.. “Also, Calvin never said that we were getting a new console. Those room repairs probably aren’t going to be cheap, after all.”
… He and your trainer are never going to let you live this down. You can already tell.
“Look, just replace the console with one that looks like it and let’s go home,” you growl. “The sooner we can forget this ever happened, the better.”
Roy hesitates a moment, before hanging his head with a low sigh.
“... You’re the boss, though I can’t guarantee everything will make it through translation. You know how humans can be sometimes,” he says. “Though it should be the third stall up on the left.”
You make your way forward step by step, as Roy and your trainer steadily keep pace. The crowds are still disorienting, but you’re quietly grateful that this time, you’re not falling behind. The stalls have all sorts of odds and ends set out. One has a row of TVs of various shapes and colors set out, another fencing that doesn’t look all that sturdy. Why there’s even one that has dolls made to look like various Pokémon set out, with a Wailmer and a Rhydon one catching your eye.
You freeze up from hearing a cry from ahead, along with the patter of running feet. You look up, and a human tyke not much taller than you are comes running over, eyes wide as he points and cries out at you excitedly much to your blinking confusion. He even approaches you with outstretched hand, when you shift back with a growl and cast an aside glance at Roy.
“Roy, what’s going on?”
“You’ve got a bit of a fan, it looks like,” he tells you. “He was saying that you looked big and strong.”
You blink in response. While you know that you’re at least tougher than when you were a Bagon, you still find yourself taken aback. Even in this present form of yours, this human is impressed?
“... He thinks that I’m big and strong?”
“Well, yeah,” Roy says. “You are a dragon. Humans tend to see you like that.”
You feel a twinge of pride when you feel your trainer pat along the top of the shell. Roy joins in at the side, you’re about to ask why when you see the younger child is approaching, hand outstretched. The Wartortle turns to you and gives a sheepish grin.
“I don’t suppose you’d be down to let the kid get in a quick pat?”
You hesitate a moment, before pausing, and giving a wary glance back.
“... If it’s quick, sure.”
You hold still and brace yourself, half-expecting the human child to poke you in the eye. Your trainer says something and the child moves his hand towards the base of your shelled body, cupping it and stroking near your legs where you have the most feeling.
It feels more satisfying than you expected, and you can’t help but let out a content rumble. The human child looks happy, too, before he turns and waves and then leaves. You weren’t expecting someone to be impressed with the way you are as a Shelgon. Even if it doesn’t change how much of a chore moving around is, it’s quite a silver lining. You’re snapped back to attention by a paw at your side, as you see Roy setting forth alongside your trainer, and giving a quiet sigh.
“Sorry for the holdup, Marl,” the Wartortle says. “I suppose we should hurry on over to that game stand.”
Right. You suppose you did say you wanted that, even if now you’re not as sure as you were just a little earlier that you wanted to get things done with right away. Before long, you make it to the game stand, which is laden with boxes and machines of various sorts, including a number that are the same as the old ones that used to be in your trainer’s room at home a few years ago.
Roy steps forward and gets to work trying to help point things out for your trainer. You suppose that you should be satisfied since you’ve gotten what you wanted and this errand will soon be over.
It’s at that point that you feel a strong gust of wind which nips at the stands’ awnings. You know that you’re outside the main Department Store building right now, but something about it was stronger than expected. You see that it’s coming from past the stand, and without thinking you go ahead and drift off, following the wind blowing in your face until you hear a metallic clang.
“... Huh?!”
You look up and see that you’ve run into a railing, while there below you are rooftops and streets, from how small the humans and Pokémon in them look, you can tell that you’re fairly high up. You glance up and see the sky and clouds overhead as the wind blows in your face. You know better than to assume that you’ll fly by leaping off of here, but it’s still most of the way there.
You hop in place as the wind blows, and for a second, you don’t remember your heavy shell. It’s almost like having those wings on your back that you’ll have one day, with the wind in your face, looking down at the world from above.
“Marl? Where are…?”
You snap back to attention after hearing Roy’s voice and turn to see him and your trainer approaching. The Wartortle sees you at the railing, as he cracks a sheepish grin.
“Guess the surprise is out of the bag now, huh?”
You blink as you trade glances between Roy and your trainer, and warily raise a brow.
“Wait, you told to come here?” you ask. “On purpose?”
“Well, it took some effort, but yeah. It’s not quite tugging you around with an Air Balloon again,” he says. “But I figured the view and the wind against your face would cheer you up a bit.”
Your trainer really must’ve wanted to make things up to you. Whatever worries you had about him being mad at you, they’re gone now, as you go up and nudge at him with a grateful rumble.
In the process you notice that something is wrong. You glance at the shopping bag your trainer’s replacement cube is supposed to be in, and notice that it looks unusually thin.
“... Wait, what sort of replacement game console is that? That doesn’t look like a cube at all.”
“It’s more something you add onto one, really. It wound up being quite a bit cheaper than getting another console,” Roy explains. “Guess he must have some nostalgia for the old thing, that or else he likes having it around as a reminder to pay more attention to us.”
He pulls it partway out of the bag, it’s a silver device that looks like a base of some sort, with one end raised with a port on it. There’s a disc in a clear case of some sort, along with another with various creatures in front of a banded background, with black-and-red glyphs on it set against a brick wall.
“He used the leftover money this game about those cartoon monsters that he grew up with,” he explains. “Said he wanted to bring the whole team out and show it off like the old days.”
You stare at Roy for a moment as he paws at his shoulder, before he looks away uneasily with a low murmur.
“I know it’s not what you asked for, but you’re not too upset about it, are you?”
You hesitate, before you narrow your eyes back and speak up with a taunting huff.
“Guess that depends on whether or not I feel he wasted his money. Only one way to find out.” you chuckle, before trailing off.
“... But before we do that. Could we stay here for just a little bit longer?”
Roy passed along your request to your trainer, and before you knew it, one thing led to another and a good half the day flew by on that rooftop. You’re back home now and it’s night, with all your teammates out and about, including the ones who were home with your trainer’s family at the time called up for the occasion.
It’s been a while since your trainer started showing off his new game, and most of your teammates are busy with their own things now elsewhere in the dorm room. You and Roy however, remain watching, at a TV brought off the shelf and down to floor level, with the silver cube placed on top.
That stand thing that your trainer bought for the cube did a better job at hiding the damage than you thought. And aside from the scorch marks poking up from the bottom when you look at it, and the damaged top edge, it looks almost like it did when your trainer first brought it with him from home.
You settle against your trainer as he maneuvers a human in a trenchcoat through what looks like a desert town, to your left, Roy’s sprawled out with a cheeky grin.
“Hah! That sure looks a lot more like real life than the older games, don’t you think?” he chuckles. “I’m sure going to miss being able to do this when I’m finally all evolved!”
You find it hard to believe yourself, since it looks so different from those ones that your trainer used to play. But it’s got the same monsters in it, and your trainer stops to pat you at his side every now and then just as he did when you were a Bagon.
… In its own way, it really does feel like you’re back at home.
“So what do you think, was it worth it, Marl?”
It then dawns on you, you don’t need to find a dragon’s den to call your own and hide away in. Even if it’s not as lonely what those ones in nature would normally be, you have one right here and now. Yes, the one in your ball, but you have a real one too. Right here, in this darkened little room alongside your teammates, just wiling away the time over simple pleasures together.
… You think that you like it more this way.
“Yeah, I think so.”
You throw your tusks forward and they find purchase, hacking twice against warm hide and drawing a pained bellow. You run forward and look back, seeing your Emboar opponent as he briefly totters, before toppling onto his belly onto the battlefield floor, his beard extinguishing along with his strength as he lays there.
You flash a grin and open your tusked mouth to let out a bellow of triumph. His trainer recalls him, and you call after the vanishing light with an unheard taunt:
“Hah! Come back and try again when you can take a swipe!”
Your assigned trainer goes for the Emboar’s trainer, and as seems to be customary among humans leading Pokémon after defeat, winnings are exchanged. The Emboar was a tougher challenger than most that you’ve faced out here in Opelucid Gym, but between your strength and the direction of your assigned trainer, it was a cinch.
The Gym Trainer recalls you, and you return back to your Pokéball, Opelucid Gym’s light-and-dark stone furnishings vanishing for a mountainous forest with a river running through it. All fake, as Pokéball environments are, as the translucent images of the world outside in the sky remind. But it still provides a degree of comfort, as you paw at not-stones along the not-river to run your tusks up against them.
You probably shouldn’t be complaining, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of dissatisfaction over how much your challenger failed to live up to your expectations. It would surely not be an issue were you fighting under your real trainer consistently, and you wonder just how much longer she’s going to leave you to be bossed around by Gym temps.
You pout and kick a not-pebble into the not-river, when before it you know it, the surrounding world vanishes away around you, and you find yourself in the Gym’s backroom. The Gym Trainer is handing off your Pokéball to a girl with a large shock of purple hair. Iris, your trainer, who’s apparently been making waves for her direction and her Pokémon’s strength, which is why a good chunk of the time, she handles the final match in this Gym instead of the old human fart who sought her out as an apprentice. Off to her side is her Druddigon and Zweilous partners, who turn their heads curiously at you as they talk.
“How’d you do out there, Hatchet?”
You turn and look up, as a Haxorus plods over and looks down at you, rubbing a claw against your head. That’s your elder sister, Francesca, the captain of your real trainer’s team… even if it’s been ages since the two of you have fought alongside each other.
After all, Iris only takes you under her direction when Drayden needs her to handle a weaker challenger that’s made it to the end of the Gym. Your sister, however, gets to fight with the best of the best.
… Even if she’s all of 5 minutes older than you, and has only been a Haxorus for less than a year. You turn away and let out an unimpressed huff. Sure you obviously sound jealous right now, but given the circumstances how could you not be?
“Fine, as usual,” you harrumph. “Not like randoms in the gym puzzle usually bringing the best teams in the world to fight.”
You feel claws cup pat at your shoulder, and look up to see your sister giving a knowing smile down.
“You’ll get to do more battles with Iris before you know it, Hatchet,” the Haxorus tells you. “Just hang in there until the next batch of rookies makes it through.”
You push her claw away with a sour frown. She probably meant that to cheer you up, but right then, it makes you feel like you’re being talked down to. Like a parent might to an Axew that’s splattered her first berry.
“But I’m literally beating them left and right!” you exclaim. “I’m just as tough as Head Case over there, so how come she’s the one getting trained to be a lead for the tough teams and I’m not?”
“Hey!”
The Zweilous turns her heads at you and flashes her fangs at you. Right, even if her eyesight’s bad enough to be effectively blind, her keen sense of hearing sure has a way of filling in for it. Her name’s not really ‘Head Case’, you just say it because it’s true and kinda funny when it gets under her hide. Seriously, for a ‘mon who’s cheating you out of time with your trainer, she could take a joke a bit better.
You growl back in reply and flash your claws, when Iris turns and comes over. She stoops, asks something about you being alright, and cups a hand under your chin for a scratch.
You tense up and can’t help but feel a flash of content. It always feels great when she does this, and for a moment your frustrations ebb away.
“Aah… that hits the spot… hey, wait, no!”
Only for them to come back when you remind yourself you were upset for a reason. Even if other humans supposedly call Iris a ‘girl who understands the heart of dragons’, sometimes, she needs a bit of a nudge to get the hint. And so, you stomp over beside your elder sister, and then motion at yourself, and then her with your claws and an adamant growl.
“I want to fight alongside her! Do you hear me? Her.”
Iris pauses a moment, when she turns up to your sister and says something in her tongue that you miss. Your sister nods back, when she takes your Pokéball and puts it on her holster, and takes Head Case’s off hers much to both the Zweilous head’s alarm.
“I-Iris?!”
“What are you doing?!”
Your trainer goes over to Head Case and pats at her. There’s some words exchanged, when the Zweilous hesitates and droops with a grudging sigh. Your command of human tongue has always been a bit weaker than your teammates, and you’re not sure if you heard everything Iris said and turn up with a puzzled frown to your sister.
“Wait, huh? What’s going on?”
“You got what you wanted,” Francesca replies. “You’ll be filling in as the lead of Iris’ 7-badge team for a while.”
You blink in disbelief for a moment. Iris… is actually giving you what you want?
“Wait, I did…? I mean of course I did! You won’t regret this!”
Your trainer comes back over towards you and pats at your head. You can’t but help but feel a swell of pride, and turn your head past her to stick your tongue out at the Zweilous as a taunt. Not that Head Case will see it with her eyesight, but it’s the thought that counts.
You wag your tail, happy and content, when you notice your sister looking away and giving an uneasy paw at your shoulder.
“Hey, what’s that look supposed to mean?” you press.
“I… just felt that it was important to warn you in advance that as part of being on a 7-badge team, that it’ll be your job to take the brunt of attacks while Iris tries to figure out the opponent’s strategy,” Francesca tells you. “It’s often every bit as demanding of a role as being the main battler on a team.”
You scoff and all but blow a raspberry in reply. You’re not that much younger than your sister, and if Iris is confident in your strength, then what is there to fear?
“You worry too much, sis,” you shoot back. “Look, I’ve already got experience being a main battler already and can keep on my toes with Dragon Dance, so it should be a piece of cake!”
She doesn’t look convinced, but whatever. Nothing that a couple battles can’t fix to put her mind to rest.
A couple hours later, you’re there at the Gym Leader’s battlefield, with a Zebstrika facing you down. He’s a bit more slippery than you expected thanks to using Flame Charge a couple times, but they barely put a dent in your scales, and as he gathers sparks about his body, Iris cries out for you to press your advantage with a Dragon Glaw.
You lunge forward, raking claws trailing dragonfire over your foe’s flank with all your might. The Zebstrika reels from the first, while the second knocks him off his feet and sends him crumpling to the ground. You pant and watch tensely, when the sparks around his body die down and he lets out a weak groan.
“Hah! That’s the power of Dragon Dance for ya! Learn to love it!”
You take a moment to bellow in triumph as his human, some backpacker who looks like he just stumbled fresh off from Route 4, recalls him with a disappointed sigh. That’s one opponent down, and you’re pretty sure there’s just two more to go. The Zebstrika’s trainer reaches for his belt and sends out his next Pokémon in a flash of red light. You see red and white hide with black stripes as the dust clears, and look up to see a Krookodile, flashing her jaws with a toothy grin.
“Heh, you look a bit worn down, Fraxure,” she taunts. “We all know you’re not going to come out the better of the two of us in this match, so how about you just quit and tag out for your teammates?”
You bare your fangs back with an unamused scoff. You’ve still got most of your strength, and with that Dragon Dance getting you pumped. This ‘mon seriously thinks that she’s going to get the best of you?
“Tough talk for someone strutting around with a perpetual sunburn!” you snap back. “Hit me with your best shot, bub!”
The Krookodile doesn’t say anything back, as a knowing smile comes over her face.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage,” she answers. “And don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Iris calls out for you to use Dragon Claw again, and you lunge forward, your first blow finding its mark that draws a sharp yelp, while the Krookodile hurriedly scurries away from the second and lets you hit empty air. Then she stomps the ground and knocks you off your feet. You hit the ground and spit up dirt. While the Krookodile packs a punch, doesn’t hurt as much as you were expecting and from the stiff feeling in your legs, you gather that she’s hit you with Bulldoze.
“Hrmph, so you slowed me down a bit,” you scoff. “You’re still not ducking getting that beating that’s coming to you!”
Iris calls out for another Dragon Claw and you get to your feet and take off running, dragonfire sprouting along your claws as you close in. Except this time, the Krookodile bides her time. You shrug the matter off when as you make it down the last few paces, something strange happens on the battlefield:
You hear ‘Dragon Claw’ again, this time from the Krookodile’s trainer.
“H-Huh?!”
This time, the Krookodile’s claws come alight with dragonfire, and before you can do anything, she nails you with an uppercut to your chin. You feel your feet leave the ground of the battlefield, twist in the earth and crash face-first to the ground. You skid briefly, your legs and tail swaying in empty air before the flop to the ground.
You lie there, trying to piece together what on earth happened and try to push your body up with your claws, only to fall back down with a weak groan.
“Ow.”
You didn’t know Krookodile could use Dragon Claw, so the defeat comes as a shock to you, even if in retrospect you probably seen it coming. You suppose you have heard from your peers in the gym that a number of Pokémon could learn moves they normally couldn’t through one of those “tee-yem” thingies, but you didn’t realize that dragon’s moves would be included that.
No matter, it was surely just a fluke. After a few hours’ rest, you are back out on the field as the lead, ready to massage your wounded pride with fresh victory. Especially since you’ve got a point to prove. Fortunately, that shouldn’t be all that hard based off the next team, belonging to a human female with long red hair. Her first Pokémon takes his place on the battlefield and sizes you up with wide-set eyes, all as you furrow your brow with an unamused grunt.
“A Scraggy. Really? Your trainer’s gotten seven badges under her belt and you didn’t evolve at all before this point?”
Yes, a Scraggy apparently. If the rounded head and exposed teeth didn’t get the point across, he pulls up the shed skin hugging his body up to his neck before letting it fall back down around his waist before turning away and folding his arms with a sharp pipe.
“Hey, don’t knock me, I’m close to evolving and I pack a punch!” he retorts. “And my trainer says that some humans say that Scraggy are dragons, too!
You’ve certainly heard that first one a few times. Though Scraggy as dragons, that’s a new one. You let out a dismissive scoff in reply, before crouching and bracing for battle.
“Whatever, kid. I’m not the one who’s going to get wiped over the floor here.”
The Scraggy frowns, but doesn’t say anything in reply as the countdown to the match sounds. As soon as it ends, Iris calls out for a Dragon Dance and you enter a frenzied dance, whirling around as dragonfire flecks your scales. You can feel yourself growing faster and stronger by the moment, and you turn back towards the Scraggy with a sneering grin and see him coming at you.
“Heh, hit me with your best shot, Scraggy. Since it’s the only one you’re gonna-”
You cut yourself off after hearing familiar words from the red-headed woman, ones of an attack that you’ve been practicing with Iris as of late.
“Wait, did your trainer just say ‘Dragon Tail’-?”
Much to your astonishment, the little lizard’s tail comes alight with dragonfire. Your eyes shrink and you hurriedly try to duck out of the way when you feel a sharp blow and go skidding along the side of the battlefield. You lose your footing and tumble, briefly seeing the lines marking where opponents go out of bounds when the surrounding world vanishes in light.
It took a while to register what on earth had happened, but the not-forest and not-river left little room for doubt. You had been recalled back to your Pokéball, since some way, somehow, that Scraggy had managed to make you ring out.
Per human rules, that means waiting for another opening to go back on the field to fight. But the blow stung more than you expect, and even moreso to your pride. The whole time, as your body lost the vigor of its Dragon Dance, you stomped and fumed in your Pokéball with rage over the Scraggy’s slight.
“That lousy cowardly little newt! Iris! Hurry up and send me back out there!”
You even spat up a few attacks at the not-sky to try and force your way out. You saw the ball rock, except when you do it this time, Iris’ hand to clamps over it to hold it still. Much to your frustration, you won’t be forcing your way out today to get back into the fight.
You throw a not-rock into the not-river with a disgusted fume and briefly notice the scenery change in the gaps between the translucent fingers of Iris’ hand. They take you off her holster and send you back out as the arena reappears in your field of vision, where the Scraggy is nowhere in sight. You throw a claw over your face and let out a seething growl. Looks like the Scraggy’s already lost to another fight.
“Arrrrgh! I can’t believe I got cheated out of beating that lousy little pantslizard-!”
“‘Sup?”
You blink and look up to the other side of the battlefield, where there is a Scrafty, pawing at his headcrest with a smug grin back.
“Told ya I was close to evolving.”
The frustration leaves your body and is replaced with a quiet flash of fear. The most likely way that little lizard could’ve pulled this off is if he beat your Druddigon teammate in your battle. You breathe in and try to calm yourself after noticing scuffs about the Dark-type’s body. He might have won the battle, but it came at a price. And he’s just evolved, so he can’t be that much stronger…
Right?
The Scrafty pants, before winding up a punch with a knowing grin. He’s tired, but there’s a certain self-confidence to him that’s got you worried.
“By the way, do you want to know the other reason why my trainer says Scraggy and Scrafty are dragons?” he asks. “It’s because a lot of them have got a fighting spirit like a Salamence, including me! Every foe I drop just gets me more and more pumped and makes me hit harder and harder!”
Yes… you’ve heard about that from some of the others from the Gym. It’s not all that common, but every so often, there will be a Salamence turn up in Unova with a fighting spirit just like that.
You breathe in and out quickly as you put two and two together and realize the Dark-type really did beat your teammate. Meaning that you’ll be facing him with this fighting spirit burning strong. You fight back visible tremors and tell yourself that Scrafty are Dark-types, so for all you know this is all some dirty trick to fake you out and throw you off your game.
“Y-You’re just saying stuff to get under my hide!” you cry back. “I’ll wipe the floor with you in no time!”
Iris cries out for you to throw a Dragon Claw forward, this time with all the force you can muster. A twinge of worry comes over you when you realize that even with its invigorating effects worn off, she wants you to go all-out on offense. You opt not to question it, and with the might of a dragon, flecks of greenish fire erupt on your claw.
“Take this!”
Your claws rake the Scrafty’s belly and he lurches back from his place a few places. He falls to his knees and slouches forward, wheezing and struggling to stay lucid after your blow.
You have a moment of satisfaction, confident that at last, you’ve gotten your revenge on the pantslizard until a pair of words in human tongue cut it short.
Once again, the red-haired woman calls out for ‘Dragon Tail’.
Your eyes shrink to pins and you squeal in fright as the Scrafty staggers to his feet and his tail begins to come alight. Blind panic overtakes you as even without Iris’ prompting your turn and start to bolt as dragonfire fills the side of your vision. The next thing you feel is a crushing, burning pain and your body skidding along the ground as you hit something hard behind you.
You look up as your vision runs muddy and see that you’re now at the side of the battlefield. So the Scrafty wasn’t just getting into your head about being able to get harder. You don’t bother trying to get up that time, as you wheeze for air and weakly raise a claw from the ground.
“A-Agh… m-medic!”
You also didn’t know that Scraggy of all Pokémon could use Dragon Tail. That defeat also particularly stung, especially since afterwards you apparently missed out on the chance to do battle some sort of turtle thing with a tree on its back and a self-roasting chicken that are rare to this land. Battles that were it not for that Dragon Tail, you’d likely have been there to fight.
You spend most of the day afterwards resting from your defeat again and apparently Head Case had to step out to fill in for you with another challenger. You’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed now, especially since you insisted to your sister that you were ready to serve as Iris’ lead. It’s not the end of the world to lose twice, but twice back-to-back? Without even getting in a proper fight?
As such, when you’re sent out onto the battlefield again this time, for the last challenger of the day, you’re nervous and on edge. What sort of implausible Pokémon are you going to see wield a dragon’s strength this time? An Ampharos at this rate? You breathe in tensely as a human male takes the other end of the field and sends out his first Pokémon. … It’s a Growlithe of all things, who wags his tail and lols his tongue briefly, before striking a determined pose.
“Heh, good battling to you, Fraxure,” he barks. “Let’s see how well you can keep up with me!”
You blink as the Puppy Pokémon takes the field, when you try and fail to hold back a laugh as fall onto your side and break out into loud guffaws.
“Sorry, sorry… I know that I’m not supposed to laugh on the job, but are you for real? A little puppy dog? What are you going to do? Roll over and ask me for a belly rub?”
The Growlithe flashes his teeth and growls back in annoyance, as Iris gives you an askew glance and the countdown to the match begins. As soon it concludes, the opposing trainer calls out his command. It takes you so aback that you miss Iris’ entirely, and stare blinking and dumbfounded.
“Wait, huh? Outrage-?”
You hear Iris frantically call you back to attention and glance up, where your mouth flops open in astonishment. The Growlithe is charging at you with his whole body wreathed in dragon fire, eyes smoldering with rage and draconic might.
“Here’s your belly rub, jerk!”
You hurriedly try to stop him with a swipe of your own, but he throws himself forward into your gut, hitting you with a blistering flurry of burning blows that knocks you off your feet and onto your back. You lay there on the ground as stars swirl in your eyes, and you splutter in a disbelieving daze.
“N-Ngah… but you’re a Growlithe. A-And that was Outrage and- H-How?!”
You don’t get an answer to that question, only for the Growlithe to run you over with Outrage yet again. You tumble along the ground and your vision goes wobbly as you try to stumble back up.
You briefly hear what sounds like a raspberry when your strength gives out, and you flop to the ground as the world goes back.
You’re back in the infirmary in the back of the Gym now. Again, woozily raising your head as you see bandages and lingering scuffs on parts of your body and the ceiling lights overhead. How on earth had this even happened today? You expected to go into your battles to help Iris emerge victorious, not to be licking your wounds in bed.
“Hey.”
You roll onto your side and move your tusks to turn your head. Francesca’s there with you, too. Looking down at your bed with a flash of worry in her black-and-red eyes.
“We pulled through in the end, but you look like you got thrown around a bit out there,” she says. “Those other battles you were in earlier today weren’t exactly easy on you either, so are you holding alright?”
You roll over onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, letting out a defeated groan.
“Fantastic,” you reply. “Couldn’t you tell?”
“I suppose I should have mentioned earlier that it’s not exactly rare for stronger Pokémon to use Dragon-type moves against us,” your sister sighs. “After all, such Pokémon and their trainers will try and seek out ways of exploiting the weaknesses of their opponents. And for us, that is often the might of a dragon itself.”
You turn to the Haxorus with your teeth set in a nervous grimace. You were looking for a challenge, but you’re starting to think that you’ve gotten yourself in over your head.
“How long do I have to fill in for Head Case again?” you ask. “Since fighting rookies in the Gym puzzle suddenly doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Long enough that you might as well get used to training up a bit more if you’re having trouble,” your sister sighs back. “Especially since I doubt that Growlithe will still be one whenever his trainer comes back for a rematch.”
You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach, and look away. You feel your sister paw at you and look up at her as she gives a tired shake of her head.
“Just try and rest up a bit, Hatchet,” she insists. “Iris is in charge of handling challengers the rest of this week, and we’ll likely be facing more again tomorrow. Drayden apparently met a younger trainer who caught his companions’ eye in town earlier today.”
Your sister shuffles off as stare up at the ceiling blankly. You feel a bit embarrassed for not knowing it prior today, but you didn’t realize just how many Pokémon could fight like a dragon in spite of not being one. If you had, perhaps you wouldn’t have been so quick to press for a place as Iris’ lead for when she has to face down her toughest foes.
… No. You won’t back down here. A dragon never gives in. A dragon never yields. Not so long as they cling to life. Maybe your sister’s right and all you need is to toughen up a bit more so these surprises don’t catch you so off-guard. Why you could even get started right now-!
You try to get up and hear something crick in your back. You yelp, before falling back into your bedding with a tired pant and curl up with a pant, pawing at your wounds.
… You’ll get started with that training. First thing tomorrow.
You flash a grin and open your tusked mouth to let out a bellow of triumph. His trainer recalls him, and you call after the vanishing light with an unheard taunt:
“Hah! Come back and try again when you can take a swipe!”
Your assigned trainer goes for the Emboar’s trainer, and as seems to be customary among humans leading Pokémon after defeat, winnings are exchanged. The Emboar was a tougher challenger than most that you’ve faced out here in Opelucid Gym, but between your strength and the direction of your assigned trainer, it was a cinch.
The Gym Trainer recalls you, and you return back to your Pokéball, Opelucid Gym’s light-and-dark stone furnishings vanishing for a mountainous forest with a river running through it. All fake, as Pokéball environments are, as the translucent images of the world outside in the sky remind. But it still provides a degree of comfort, as you paw at not-stones along the not-river to run your tusks up against them.
You probably shouldn’t be complaining, but you can’t help but feel a twinge of dissatisfaction over how much your challenger failed to live up to your expectations. It would surely not be an issue were you fighting under your real trainer consistently, and you wonder just how much longer she’s going to leave you to be bossed around by Gym temps.
You pout and kick a not-pebble into the not-river, when before it you know it, the surrounding world vanishes away around you, and you find yourself in the Gym’s backroom. The Gym Trainer is handing off your Pokéball to a girl with a large shock of purple hair. Iris, your trainer, who’s apparently been making waves for her direction and her Pokémon’s strength, which is why a good chunk of the time, she handles the final match in this Gym instead of the old human fart who sought her out as an apprentice. Off to her side is her Druddigon and Zweilous partners, who turn their heads curiously at you as they talk.
“How’d you do out there, Hatchet?”
You turn and look up, as a Haxorus plods over and looks down at you, rubbing a claw against your head. That’s your elder sister, Francesca, the captain of your real trainer’s team… even if it’s been ages since the two of you have fought alongside each other.
After all, Iris only takes you under her direction when Drayden needs her to handle a weaker challenger that’s made it to the end of the Gym. Your sister, however, gets to fight with the best of the best.
… Even if she’s all of 5 minutes older than you, and has only been a Haxorus for less than a year. You turn away and let out an unimpressed huff. Sure you obviously sound jealous right now, but given the circumstances how could you not be?
“Fine, as usual,” you harrumph. “Not like randoms in the gym puzzle usually bringing the best teams in the world to fight.”
You feel claws cup pat at your shoulder, and look up to see your sister giving a knowing smile down.
“You’ll get to do more battles with Iris before you know it, Hatchet,” the Haxorus tells you. “Just hang in there until the next batch of rookies makes it through.”
You push her claw away with a sour frown. She probably meant that to cheer you up, but right then, it makes you feel like you’re being talked down to. Like a parent might to an Axew that’s splattered her first berry.
“But I’m literally beating them left and right!” you exclaim. “I’m just as tough as Head Case over there, so how come she’s the one getting trained to be a lead for the tough teams and I’m not?”
“Hey!”
The Zweilous turns her heads at you and flashes her fangs at you. Right, even if her eyesight’s bad enough to be effectively blind, her keen sense of hearing sure has a way of filling in for it. Her name’s not really ‘Head Case’, you just say it because it’s true and kinda funny when it gets under her hide. Seriously, for a ‘mon who’s cheating you out of time with your trainer, she could take a joke a bit better.
You growl back in reply and flash your claws, when Iris turns and comes over. She stoops, asks something about you being alright, and cups a hand under your chin for a scratch.
You tense up and can’t help but feel a flash of content. It always feels great when she does this, and for a moment your frustrations ebb away.
“Aah… that hits the spot… hey, wait, no!”
Only for them to come back when you remind yourself you were upset for a reason. Even if other humans supposedly call Iris a ‘girl who understands the heart of dragons’, sometimes, she needs a bit of a nudge to get the hint. And so, you stomp over beside your elder sister, and then motion at yourself, and then her with your claws and an adamant growl.
“I want to fight alongside her! Do you hear me? Her.”
Iris pauses a moment, when she turns up to your sister and says something in her tongue that you miss. Your sister nods back, when she takes your Pokéball and puts it on her holster, and takes Head Case’s off hers much to both the Zweilous head’s alarm.
“I-Iris?!”
“What are you doing?!”
Your trainer goes over to Head Case and pats at her. There’s some words exchanged, when the Zweilous hesitates and droops with a grudging sigh. Your command of human tongue has always been a bit weaker than your teammates, and you’re not sure if you heard everything Iris said and turn up with a puzzled frown to your sister.
“Wait, huh? What’s going on?”
“You got what you wanted,” Francesca replies. “You’ll be filling in as the lead of Iris’ 7-badge team for a while.”
You blink in disbelief for a moment. Iris… is actually giving you what you want?
“Wait, I did…? I mean of course I did! You won’t regret this!”
Your trainer comes back over towards you and pats at your head. You can’t but help but feel a swell of pride, and turn your head past her to stick your tongue out at the Zweilous as a taunt. Not that Head Case will see it with her eyesight, but it’s the thought that counts.
You wag your tail, happy and content, when you notice your sister looking away and giving an uneasy paw at your shoulder.
“Hey, what’s that look supposed to mean?” you press.
“I… just felt that it was important to warn you in advance that as part of being on a 7-badge team, that it’ll be your job to take the brunt of attacks while Iris tries to figure out the opponent’s strategy,” Francesca tells you. “It’s often every bit as demanding of a role as being the main battler on a team.”
You scoff and all but blow a raspberry in reply. You’re not that much younger than your sister, and if Iris is confident in your strength, then what is there to fear?
“You worry too much, sis,” you shoot back. “Look, I’ve already got experience being a main battler already and can keep on my toes with Dragon Dance, so it should be a piece of cake!”
She doesn’t look convinced, but whatever. Nothing that a couple battles can’t fix to put her mind to rest.
A couple hours later, you’re there at the Gym Leader’s battlefield, with a Zebstrika facing you down. He’s a bit more slippery than you expected thanks to using Flame Charge a couple times, but they barely put a dent in your scales, and as he gathers sparks about his body, Iris cries out for you to press your advantage with a Dragon Glaw.
You lunge forward, raking claws trailing dragonfire over your foe’s flank with all your might. The Zebstrika reels from the first, while the second knocks him off his feet and sends him crumpling to the ground. You pant and watch tensely, when the sparks around his body die down and he lets out a weak groan.
“Hah! That’s the power of Dragon Dance for ya! Learn to love it!”
You take a moment to bellow in triumph as his human, some backpacker who looks like he just stumbled fresh off from Route 4, recalls him with a disappointed sigh. That’s one opponent down, and you’re pretty sure there’s just two more to go. The Zebstrika’s trainer reaches for his belt and sends out his next Pokémon in a flash of red light. You see red and white hide with black stripes as the dust clears, and look up to see a Krookodile, flashing her jaws with a toothy grin.
“Heh, you look a bit worn down, Fraxure,” she taunts. “We all know you’re not going to come out the better of the two of us in this match, so how about you just quit and tag out for your teammates?”
You bare your fangs back with an unamused scoff. You’ve still got most of your strength, and with that Dragon Dance getting you pumped. This ‘mon seriously thinks that she’s going to get the best of you?
“Tough talk for someone strutting around with a perpetual sunburn!” you snap back. “Hit me with your best shot, bub!”
The Krookodile doesn’t say anything back, as a knowing smile comes over her face.
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage,” she answers. “And don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Iris calls out for you to use Dragon Claw again, and you lunge forward, your first blow finding its mark that draws a sharp yelp, while the Krookodile hurriedly scurries away from the second and lets you hit empty air. Then she stomps the ground and knocks you off your feet. You hit the ground and spit up dirt. While the Krookodile packs a punch, doesn’t hurt as much as you were expecting and from the stiff feeling in your legs, you gather that she’s hit you with Bulldoze.
“Hrmph, so you slowed me down a bit,” you scoff. “You’re still not ducking getting that beating that’s coming to you!”
Iris calls out for another Dragon Claw and you get to your feet and take off running, dragonfire sprouting along your claws as you close in. Except this time, the Krookodile bides her time. You shrug the matter off when as you make it down the last few paces, something strange happens on the battlefield:
You hear ‘Dragon Claw’ again, this time from the Krookodile’s trainer.
“H-Huh?!”
This time, the Krookodile’s claws come alight with dragonfire, and before you can do anything, she nails you with an uppercut to your chin. You feel your feet leave the ground of the battlefield, twist in the earth and crash face-first to the ground. You skid briefly, your legs and tail swaying in empty air before the flop to the ground.
You lie there, trying to piece together what on earth happened and try to push your body up with your claws, only to fall back down with a weak groan.
“Ow.”
You didn’t know Krookodile could use Dragon Claw, so the defeat comes as a shock to you, even if in retrospect you probably seen it coming. You suppose you have heard from your peers in the gym that a number of Pokémon could learn moves they normally couldn’t through one of those “tee-yem” thingies, but you didn’t realize that dragon’s moves would be included that.
No matter, it was surely just a fluke. After a few hours’ rest, you are back out on the field as the lead, ready to massage your wounded pride with fresh victory. Especially since you’ve got a point to prove. Fortunately, that shouldn’t be all that hard based off the next team, belonging to a human female with long red hair. Her first Pokémon takes his place on the battlefield and sizes you up with wide-set eyes, all as you furrow your brow with an unamused grunt.
“A Scraggy. Really? Your trainer’s gotten seven badges under her belt and you didn’t evolve at all before this point?”
Yes, a Scraggy apparently. If the rounded head and exposed teeth didn’t get the point across, he pulls up the shed skin hugging his body up to his neck before letting it fall back down around his waist before turning away and folding his arms with a sharp pipe.
“Hey, don’t knock me, I’m close to evolving and I pack a punch!” he retorts. “And my trainer says that some humans say that Scraggy are dragons, too!
You’ve certainly heard that first one a few times. Though Scraggy as dragons, that’s a new one. You let out a dismissive scoff in reply, before crouching and bracing for battle.
“Whatever, kid. I’m not the one who’s going to get wiped over the floor here.”
The Scraggy frowns, but doesn’t say anything in reply as the countdown to the match sounds. As soon as it ends, Iris calls out for a Dragon Dance and you enter a frenzied dance, whirling around as dragonfire flecks your scales. You can feel yourself growing faster and stronger by the moment, and you turn back towards the Scraggy with a sneering grin and see him coming at you.
“Heh, hit me with your best shot, Scraggy. Since it’s the only one you’re gonna-”
You cut yourself off after hearing familiar words from the red-headed woman, ones of an attack that you’ve been practicing with Iris as of late.
“Wait, did your trainer just say ‘Dragon Tail’-?”
Much to your astonishment, the little lizard’s tail comes alight with dragonfire. Your eyes shrink and you hurriedly try to duck out of the way when you feel a sharp blow and go skidding along the side of the battlefield. You lose your footing and tumble, briefly seeing the lines marking where opponents go out of bounds when the surrounding world vanishes in light.
It took a while to register what on earth had happened, but the not-forest and not-river left little room for doubt. You had been recalled back to your Pokéball, since some way, somehow, that Scraggy had managed to make you ring out.
Per human rules, that means waiting for another opening to go back on the field to fight. But the blow stung more than you expect, and even moreso to your pride. The whole time, as your body lost the vigor of its Dragon Dance, you stomped and fumed in your Pokéball with rage over the Scraggy’s slight.
“That lousy cowardly little newt! Iris! Hurry up and send me back out there!”
You even spat up a few attacks at the not-sky to try and force your way out. You saw the ball rock, except when you do it this time, Iris’ hand to clamps over it to hold it still. Much to your frustration, you won’t be forcing your way out today to get back into the fight.
You throw a not-rock into the not-river with a disgusted fume and briefly notice the scenery change in the gaps between the translucent fingers of Iris’ hand. They take you off her holster and send you back out as the arena reappears in your field of vision, where the Scraggy is nowhere in sight. You throw a claw over your face and let out a seething growl. Looks like the Scraggy’s already lost to another fight.
“Arrrrgh! I can’t believe I got cheated out of beating that lousy little pantslizard-!”
“‘Sup?”
You blink and look up to the other side of the battlefield, where there is a Scrafty, pawing at his headcrest with a smug grin back.
“Told ya I was close to evolving.”
The frustration leaves your body and is replaced with a quiet flash of fear. The most likely way that little lizard could’ve pulled this off is if he beat your Druddigon teammate in your battle. You breathe in and try to calm yourself after noticing scuffs about the Dark-type’s body. He might have won the battle, but it came at a price. And he’s just evolved, so he can’t be that much stronger…
Right?
The Scrafty pants, before winding up a punch with a knowing grin. He’s tired, but there’s a certain self-confidence to him that’s got you worried.
“By the way, do you want to know the other reason why my trainer says Scraggy and Scrafty are dragons?” he asks. “It’s because a lot of them have got a fighting spirit like a Salamence, including me! Every foe I drop just gets me more and more pumped and makes me hit harder and harder!”
Yes… you’ve heard about that from some of the others from the Gym. It’s not all that common, but every so often, there will be a Salamence turn up in Unova with a fighting spirit just like that.
You breathe in and out quickly as you put two and two together and realize the Dark-type really did beat your teammate. Meaning that you’ll be facing him with this fighting spirit burning strong. You fight back visible tremors and tell yourself that Scrafty are Dark-types, so for all you know this is all some dirty trick to fake you out and throw you off your game.
“Y-You’re just saying stuff to get under my hide!” you cry back. “I’ll wipe the floor with you in no time!”
Iris cries out for you to throw a Dragon Claw forward, this time with all the force you can muster. A twinge of worry comes over you when you realize that even with its invigorating effects worn off, she wants you to go all-out on offense. You opt not to question it, and with the might of a dragon, flecks of greenish fire erupt on your claw.
“Take this!”
Your claws rake the Scrafty’s belly and he lurches back from his place a few places. He falls to his knees and slouches forward, wheezing and struggling to stay lucid after your blow.
You have a moment of satisfaction, confident that at last, you’ve gotten your revenge on the pantslizard until a pair of words in human tongue cut it short.
Once again, the red-haired woman calls out for ‘Dragon Tail’.
Your eyes shrink to pins and you squeal in fright as the Scrafty staggers to his feet and his tail begins to come alight. Blind panic overtakes you as even without Iris’ prompting your turn and start to bolt as dragonfire fills the side of your vision. The next thing you feel is a crushing, burning pain and your body skidding along the ground as you hit something hard behind you.
You look up as your vision runs muddy and see that you’re now at the side of the battlefield. So the Scrafty wasn’t just getting into your head about being able to get harder. You don’t bother trying to get up that time, as you wheeze for air and weakly raise a claw from the ground.
“A-Agh… m-medic!”
You also didn’t know that Scraggy of all Pokémon could use Dragon Tail. That defeat also particularly stung, especially since afterwards you apparently missed out on the chance to do battle some sort of turtle thing with a tree on its back and a self-roasting chicken that are rare to this land. Battles that were it not for that Dragon Tail, you’d likely have been there to fight.
You spend most of the day afterwards resting from your defeat again and apparently Head Case had to step out to fill in for you with another challenger. You’re starting to feel a bit embarrassed now, especially since you insisted to your sister that you were ready to serve as Iris’ lead. It’s not the end of the world to lose twice, but twice back-to-back? Without even getting in a proper fight?
As such, when you’re sent out onto the battlefield again this time, for the last challenger of the day, you’re nervous and on edge. What sort of implausible Pokémon are you going to see wield a dragon’s strength this time? An Ampharos at this rate? You breathe in tensely as a human male takes the other end of the field and sends out his first Pokémon. … It’s a Growlithe of all things, who wags his tail and lols his tongue briefly, before striking a determined pose.
“Heh, good battling to you, Fraxure,” he barks. “Let’s see how well you can keep up with me!”
You blink as the Puppy Pokémon takes the field, when you try and fail to hold back a laugh as fall onto your side and break out into loud guffaws.
“Sorry, sorry… I know that I’m not supposed to laugh on the job, but are you for real? A little puppy dog? What are you going to do? Roll over and ask me for a belly rub?”
The Growlithe flashes his teeth and growls back in annoyance, as Iris gives you an askew glance and the countdown to the match begins. As soon it concludes, the opposing trainer calls out his command. It takes you so aback that you miss Iris’ entirely, and stare blinking and dumbfounded.
“Wait, huh? Outrage-?”
You hear Iris frantically call you back to attention and glance up, where your mouth flops open in astonishment. The Growlithe is charging at you with his whole body wreathed in dragon fire, eyes smoldering with rage and draconic might.
“Here’s your belly rub, jerk!”
You hurriedly try to stop him with a swipe of your own, but he throws himself forward into your gut, hitting you with a blistering flurry of burning blows that knocks you off your feet and onto your back. You lay there on the ground as stars swirl in your eyes, and you splutter in a disbelieving daze.
“N-Ngah… but you’re a Growlithe. A-And that was Outrage and- H-How?!”
You don’t get an answer to that question, only for the Growlithe to run you over with Outrage yet again. You tumble along the ground and your vision goes wobbly as you try to stumble back up.
You briefly hear what sounds like a raspberry when your strength gives out, and you flop to the ground as the world goes back.
You’re back in the infirmary in the back of the Gym now. Again, woozily raising your head as you see bandages and lingering scuffs on parts of your body and the ceiling lights overhead. How on earth had this even happened today? You expected to go into your battles to help Iris emerge victorious, not to be licking your wounds in bed.
“Hey.”
You roll onto your side and move your tusks to turn your head. Francesca’s there with you, too. Looking down at your bed with a flash of worry in her black-and-red eyes.
“We pulled through in the end, but you look like you got thrown around a bit out there,” she says. “Those other battles you were in earlier today weren’t exactly easy on you either, so are you holding alright?”
You roll over onto your back and stare up at the ceiling, letting out a defeated groan.
“Fantastic,” you reply. “Couldn’t you tell?”
“I suppose I should have mentioned earlier that it’s not exactly rare for stronger Pokémon to use Dragon-type moves against us,” your sister sighs. “After all, such Pokémon and their trainers will try and seek out ways of exploiting the weaknesses of their opponents. And for us, that is often the might of a dragon itself.”
You turn to the Haxorus with your teeth set in a nervous grimace. You were looking for a challenge, but you’re starting to think that you’ve gotten yourself in over your head.
“How long do I have to fill in for Head Case again?” you ask. “Since fighting rookies in the Gym puzzle suddenly doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Long enough that you might as well get used to training up a bit more if you’re having trouble,” your sister sighs back. “Especially since I doubt that Growlithe will still be one whenever his trainer comes back for a rematch.”
You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach, and look away. You feel your sister paw at you and look up at her as she gives a tired shake of her head.
“Just try and rest up a bit, Hatchet,” she insists. “Iris is in charge of handling challengers the rest of this week, and we’ll likely be facing more again tomorrow. Drayden apparently met a younger trainer who caught his companions’ eye in town earlier today.”
Your sister shuffles off as stare up at the ceiling blankly. You feel a bit embarrassed for not knowing it prior today, but you didn’t realize just how many Pokémon could fight like a dragon in spite of not being one. If you had, perhaps you wouldn’t have been so quick to press for a place as Iris’ lead for when she has to face down her toughest foes.
… No. You won’t back down here. A dragon never gives in. A dragon never yields. Not so long as they cling to life. Maybe your sister’s right and all you need is to toughen up a bit more so these surprises don’t catch you so off-guard. Why you could even get started right now-!
You try to get up and hear something crick in your back. You yelp, before falling back into your bedding with a tired pant and curl up with a pant, pawing at your wounds.
… You’ll get started with that training. First thing tomorrow.
Winter’s come early this year again. Just barely a month ago, the trees still had their autumn leaves and now the snow is already coming and blanketing the world outside. Were you still living in the wilds, this would be when you’d huddle up in your den and enter brumation. To pull your wings in and tuck your ruddy head up against your tail. Huddled up with your young, and considering the specific place you come from, likely huddled up with a good dozen of your peers.
“Ha ha! I’ve got you this time!”
But living among humans allows one to live in ways outside the workings of nature. As the warm fireplace you’re basking yourself next to reminds. You raise your head and peer out with your piercing yellow eyes as a pair of young Druddigon, spitting images of yourself, romp and chase each other around the couch of your trainer’s living room.
Even with the snow and winter chill kept safely at bay, your children surprise you at times with how much energy they have. Especially now when the streetlights outside are lit and the moon and stars in the sky.
“Kids… it’s getting late, keep it down,” you mutter tiredly. “Your trainers are trying to sleep right now.”
As were you, for that matter. But your children seem to have other things in mind. They look at you from the couch with whines of protest.
“Aww, but mom!”
He is your Second of Two, and were you living back in the wilds, that would be his name among your kind until he accomplished his first feat worth being remembered for. He is ‘Rudd’ to the humans you live with, and your First of Two ‘Rufus’. You’re not sure what the story behind how they chose them is, but that’s not on your mind at the moment.
“Enough. Both of you, come and rest-”
You throw a set of claws out to tugg at your younger child, only to recoil after they feel cold to the touch. A flash of alarm goes across your eyes, before you scowl down with a scolding growl.
“Ack, your scales feel freezing right now!” you hiss. “How are you two not bothered by this?! Come on by the fire and warm up right now! It’s not good for young dragons like you to be this cold.”
“Aren’t there those ‘vent’ thingies we can just lay on?” your elder child asks, giving a sheepish grin.
You decide to put your foot down and slip past your children, nudging them forward with a sharp harrumph. They squirm briefly and you sigh to yourself expecting them to put up a fuss.
“Nonsense, you’ll stay warmer huddled up with me,” you insist. “Why back when I lived in the wilds, I’d do that every winter with the other Druddigon that I lived around.”
The pair stop fighting back for a moment, before they turn and look up at you with puzzled frowns.
“In that tower north of the town that you and Duke talk about?” your elder child asks. “Why on earth would Druddigon want to live there?”
“Yeah, there’s no fireplaces in there to stay warm with!” your younger child insists. “Are there?”
Well, it’d common practice to occasionally break brumation to warm the ground with a gout of dragonfire and stave off the cold that way. But such practices don’t mix well with the flooring of human dens, especially ones fashioned from this fuzzy ‘carpet’ underfoot, so you opt not to give your kids ideas just yet.
“No, but there’s a lot of Pokémon like you and me there, and others that are friends to them like your friends with your trainers,” you explain. “It’s a very, very special place that a lot of other dragons elsewhere in Unova would be jealous about coming from.”
Your Second of Two bats his wings tilts his head with a puzzled frown in reply.
“Huh? How come?” he asks. “I know you’ve said it’s a special place… but why would that make the Pokémon there friends with one another.”
… Maybe this was just the break you needed to wrangle them over. And the tale answering his question is one that you and the other Druddigon from your home always took pride in.
“Well, it’d be a bit hard to tell you the story running and jumping around, you chuckle. “Come with me by the hearth and I’ll tell it to you, sound fair?”
They murmur in agreement and follow you back to the fireside. You settle in against the warmed carpet, and so do they, scooting up against your hide. You see them stretch their wings and shift to try and steal the heat from the fireplace. If you can just keep them here a couple minutes, they’ll surely be too content to want to give it up.
And so, you look down as your First of Two paws at you, and turns his snout up with a curious blink.
“So, how did Druddigon like you wind up living in that tower?”
There… are a number of versions of that story that go about, among humans and Pokémon alike since it’s not just Druddigon who came to Dragonspiral Tower. Though you decide to focus just them, after all, it should be just long enough to hold them until they start to nod off.
And it’s always been a matter of pride for you, as a story of your and your children’s kind.
“Well, long, long ago, there were gods that lived among humans and Pokémon in this land. Gods who were dragons, like you and me,” you begin. “Back in those times, the tower was built as a sanctuary by humans who worshipped them, along with the help of Golett and Golurk who lived among them, all faithful friends and helpers who showered them with tributes of food and treasure.”
“Wait, but I thought the tower was built for a god,” your younger child cuts in.
You catch yourself, since the story behind how Dragonspiral Tower came to be the roost of one god is an unhappy tale involving ruin by fire and lightning. You’re… not sure that your children need to hear that story. Or at least not at their present age.
“It’s… complicated to explain, and a story for another day since it came sometime well after the first Druddigon moved in,” you insist. “But the point is that at the time it was built for two who shared it as a den, much like we share this one together.”
“But wouldn’t those dragons already have plenty of friends already?” your First of Two asks. “You just said there were a bunch of humans and Golett, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, and dad says that dragons like him normally like having places of their own for a den that they don’t have to share.”
You sigh to yourself as your children’s energy is slower to wane than you’d thought. Perhaps if your mate were here, this would be an easier task. But he’s with his own human and far away at the moment, so this is a matter that you must go alone, and keep your story going.
“Well… yes, but the gods’ den was so big that it was a bit lonely. And even with the friends the humans provided, they didn’t think like them,” you insist. “They wanted friends that would know what it was like to bask in the sun, of the thrill of finding a treasure and showing it to others. And so it was that the gods asked for the humans to find them additional friends who would be dragons like them.”
You linger briefly expecting your children to pepper you with more questions, only to see that they’re glancing at you in rapt attention. You quietly sigh in relief that you won’t have more to explain just yet and continue on with your tale.
“And so it was that the ancients that built the tower went all through Unova searching for dragons for them to be friends and helpers for them, to stand guard over the grounds and accept the treasures brought to them by visitors. They first brought forth Haxorus and their kin,” you say. “They stood tall and proud, and felled their foes with a mighty chop of their tusks… and as dragons who didn’t eat much meat while they were younger, struck the ancients as ideal companions.”
You trail off a bit for dramatic effect, and give an affected, disappointed shake of your head. Much as your own mother did when recounting this tale to you so many moons ago.
“Unfortunately they were a bit too open to fight, both with the Pokémon already there at the tower and with each other, and day and night, they kept quarreling over who would be highest among themselves as guardians,” you continue. “Things went on and on to the point where the gods themselves couldn’t sleep until one day, they bellowed their displeasure and chased the Haxorus away from the tower with fire and thunder nipping at their tails.”
Your children jostle against you and turn their heads up, pawing at you with worried grimaces.
“... Wait, but dad’s a Haxorus and he’s not like that,” your elder child insists. “... Is he?”
“And… is this god still mad at him then?” your younger asks.
You flinch briefly and bite your tongue. That wasn’t at all what you wanted your children to take from that part of the story! You sit up entirely, waving your claws vigorously in protest as you speak back to them.
“No! No! Not at all! It’s just that of the dragons that were brought before the gods, those Haxorus didn’t understand the importance of the duty they were entrusted with and all left a bad first impression as a result,” “The gods that roost there didn’t hold a grudge against all of them. It’d have been awful for most dragons in this land if they did, especially for the Hydreigon and their kin who took the Haxorus’ place afterwards.”
Your children jolt up with a start themselves and sit up, pulling their wings in and looking up nervously at you.
“... Wait, Hydreigon?” your Second of Two asks. “But why on earth would the gods want Pokémon so scary watching over their den?”
“Well, being scary’s not a bad thing all the time. After all, there’s plenty of Pokémon that would call you or me scary, and a scary guard can help chase away others that mean you harm,” you explain. “But part of being a guard for someone else is that you still need to be kindly to their guests, which the Hydreigon and their kin… weren’t.”
You look at your claws, and decide that while you’re still seated… perhaps a bit of acting to stir your children’s imagination is in order. You hold your arms out and curl your claws in almost like mouths, spreading your wings to mimic their appearances.
“When the Hydreigon came, they too fought amongst each other, and they stripped much of the surrounding forests bare to feed themselves. Worse still, many of them nursed grudges against the humans who summoned them from quarrels past,” you say, flashing your fangs for ominous effect. “And as the gods’ new guardians, they took every opportunity they could to lord over the nearby humans and their companions. To the point where others stopped visiting the gods because they were too afraid of their guards and how they’d treat them.”
You see your children scoot in towards each other and hold onto each other, visibly shivering and wide-eyed. That’s probably a sign to reel things in. After all, this is supposed to be a happy story, not a frightening one.
“After seeing their visitors dwindle along with their gifts of treasure, the gods once again bellowed their displeasure and chased the Hydreigon away from the tower with fire and thunder nipping at their tails.”
That seems to do the trick as your children calm down and settle in again, your First of Two blinking with a curious raise of his eye.
“How many other dragons were brought to the tower anyways?”
“All the ones that could be found from Unova,” you explain. “All of which caused their own troubles when brought over.”
You rise to your feet entirely. There was quite a list of other dragons that failed to secu moving your wings and limbs as you try to mimic the forms of each one.
“The Flygon would keep digging up the stones set up about the tower. The Altaria would sing and trill at inappropriate times. The Salamence would spend more time flying about than standing guard and burn their surroundings when angered,” you finish, with your wings held flat and wide. “But in the end, each and every one of them did two things that wore the gods’ patience thin…”
“They kept fighting with each other and the Pokémon and humans who were already there?”
You turn back and look at your children, with your elder finishing your words before you can finish with a quiet yawn. You settle back down in the carpet and give a small smile, content that thus far, your scheme has been bearing fruit.
“That’s right, and like every group of dragons before, the gods would chase them away with fire and lightning,” you reply, nodding. “And so it was that the late fall came, just before the first snowflakes fall from the sky, when the first Druddigon came.”
“Wait, but why would things turn out differently for them?” your Second of Two asks. “Since if all those other dragons made the gods upset… what made them so special?”
“Well, part of it is that they came for different reasons,” you explain, casting a glance out at the snowy world outside through the living room window.
“... Unlike the other dragons, the Druddigon had lost their home in the mountains earlier that year and searched for another outside of it during the warm months,” you tell them. “During their wanderings, they had heard stories of a tower that was to be given away as a den for dragons, so long as they impressed the gods and their guardians inside.”
“But how did they do that?” he presses.
“By working together!” you chuckle back. “After hearing of the earlier dragons’ squabbles, the Druddigon’s elder dragons gathered their ranks together and declared that if they would merely work together, that the den would be there for all.”
Well, things were undoubtedly more complicated than that, but you’ve always been fondest of the version of the story your mother and the other Druddigon you lived around told most frequently. And thus, you stick to it and continue on.
“And so they bravely marched forth, young and old, weak and strong, meeting the gods’ guardians in combat and fighting them to a draw,” you say, smiling back. “Their strength and teamwork so impressed the gods that they offered them the honor of guardianship at once.”
Your children’s eyes are excited now as they murmur to themselves about how exciting it must have been to impress such strong Pokémon when even the likes of mighty Haxorus and Hydreigon fell short. Their eyelids are starting to grow heavy, and content that your storytelling has done its work, you start to curl up towards the fire and give a content smile.
“And that was how Druddigon like us came to live in Dragonspiral Tower.”
That seems as good a note as any to wind things down, and to give the last nudge needed to push your children off towards sleep. You start to reach out to pull them in towards you, when a quiet, disapproving voice speaks up from behind.
“... That’s not how I remember the version of the story that I heard, Neela. And I grew up around Dragonspiral Tower myself.”
You stiffen up after hearing the name your humans use for you called out and turn to see a Mienshao approach with a small, quiet frown. That’s ‘Duke’ as your humans call him, which you suppose has rubbed off on you from habit. He’s the Pokémon who showed you the ropes when you started partnering with the humans of this family, and he carries wisdom from both life among humans and the time before.
It’s the second one that has you a bit worried, as you speak up to try and brush him off.
“Ah, yes. Well, it’s folklore,” you insist. “There’s usually different versions that go around.”
“Maybe so, but even that’s definitely not how most versions of the story I heard went,” the Mienshao retorts, folding his arms. “Especially the part about how the Druddigon came into the tower. It’s not quite as simple a story as that.”
You grimace as the children are suddenly more awake now, and much to your chagrin, much as children tend to do, your younger child lets curiosity get the better of him and he glances up at the Mienshao.
“Oh? What was different about the version you heard?”
Duke doesn’t frown, but even so, his expression remains firm as he squats to lower himself down to the youngsters’ level.
“Well, their purpose for coming was a bit different in the one I usually hear. In the wilds, Druddigon don’t just hunt for food, but also for dens,” Duke explains. “When they come across one that’s pleasing to them, sometimes they will try and drive off its owner to claim it for themselves.”
He shakes his head as you tighten your claws against the the carpet and quietly cringe. You’ve heard the version of the story Duke’s telling too, and it’s not one
“And that was what brought them to Dragonspiral Tower. They had been wandering from the mountains, when in the late fall on Icirrus’ Moor, they came across the tower. They saw that it was a pleasing den, but much too big for any of them to take alone, so their elders said: ‘let us join claws and hunt this den from its inhabitants for ourselves’.”
Your children are starting to waver now, as that sense of wonder you worked so hard to instill leaves their eyes and a doubtful unease takes its place.
“... Wait, but aren’t there Golett and Golurk at the tower still?” your elder child asks. “Doesn’t that mean that the Druddigon lost?”
“Well, yes and no. Your mother is right about them fighting the defenders to a draw, and some even say they gained the upper hand,” the Mienshao says, before shaking his head.
“The problem was that that day the gods came back to roost,” the Fighting-type continues. “When they found out about what these strangers had done to their companions, they were understandably displeased.”
Your grumble under your breath about how Duke just had to step in and ruin your story right before the kids were about to sleep. Their wings are now drooped and their heads held low in disappointment, as your Second of Two uneasily speaks up to ask:
“What… happened then?”
“Well, in the version of the story I heard, the gods grew enraged and bellowed their displeasure and swooped down, throwing fire and lightning before the Druddigon,” Duke explained. “It is said the Druddigon grew sore afraid in the gods’ presence, to the point where some of them even fell ill out of fright—”
You’ve had enough. You don’t understand why Duke is doing this since as your mentor, it’s not like him to just embarrass you like this in front of others. You let out a sharp glare and growl your displeasure.
“Alright Duke, we don’t need to hear the rest,” you snap. “I just wanted to give the kids a nice story before they went to sleep before you had to step in and ruin things.”
He falls quiet for a moment, before looking over with a small smile and a wave of a wispy-furred paw.
“Then wouldn’t it make sense for me to end before the story’s over now would it?” he asks. “After all, while the truth of any story doesn’t always show Pokémon like us at our best, in this case, of all the dragons that came before them, it was indeed the Druddigon that the gods chose to help protect their tower.
You blink and realize that Duke must be telling a version of the story of how Dragonspiral Tower came to have Druddigon that was different than you thought. The children blink in confusion as they
“They… did?” your Second of Two asks. “But why?”
“Yeah, so far, your story just made it sound like the Druddigon were mean to the Pokémon that were already there!” your First of Two protests. “And then grew scaredy after they made the gods mad. Why on earth would the gods want them after all that?”
“Well, most Pokémon would be scared in their situation, dragon or not. But in the end, amidst the roaring and the fire and lightning, the whole time, the Druddigon did not yield or turn away or flee like the other dragons,” the Mienshao explained. “They alone stood firm, if visibly quaking.”
You blink at the Mienshao’s answer, and your features ease a bit. He sees them himself, before he raises a paw and continues on with his tale.
“With embers and sparks dancing about them, the gods held back their power briefly and demanded of the Druddigon: ‘Why did you come here and harm our guardians? Did you really think that you could best the gods’ might?’”
Duke trails off briefly, studying your reaction and your children’s. He sees that that curious spark has returned to their eyes. Even if they’re not as excited as they were for your version of the story, they don’t look disappointed anymore.
“At the gods’ demand, one of the Druddigon from the front fell to his belly with a heartful plea: ‘Lords of Black and White, have pity! We sought your tower for ourselves because our dens were hunted from us and we have none to shield ourselves from winter’s snow!’”
You see the children stiffen up and glance out the window towards the snow through the window and wince at the sight. Being stuck in such weather without shelter all winter would be the end of many a dragon, and while this too is in the version of events you were worried Duke would bring up… somehow his take feels like it doesn’t make light of those Druddigon of bygone times.
“The other Druddigon joined in and with one voice desperately echoed their companion’s plea, explaining that if they turned away, they would surely die. If not from the gods’ wrath, then from the snow. The gods were moved by their plight lingered for a moment, before one, their identity lost to time spoke up.”
This time, Duke brings his eyes to yours, and runs a paw on it, giving a small smile down at you as words that surprise you come from his mouth
“‘Stand tall, brave and noble dragons. For you have displayed unity and humility where all others before you failed, and did not yield even in the face of certain death.’”
You blink up at your mentor. You can’t tell if he’s just saying this to make you feel better or not. In tellings of this tale you’ve heard where the teller accused the Druddigon of acting craven, the gods didn’t say anything like that to them.
“For a fleeting moment, the Druddigon were at a loss, when the other of the gods spoke up in stern warning: ‘So long as you dwell in our domains, you shall never claim this land as its masters but defend it on our behalf. You shall live amongst our other servants as equals. They shall be your allies and you shall be theirs,’” the Mienshao continued. “And so they lowered their heads and marched forth, and took their place among Dragonspiral Tower’s guardians.”
The Mienshao stoops down and pats at your children’s crests, before turning to you with a knowing smile.
“Considering how there’s Druddigon that live out there to this day, I’d think that they’ve done a pretty good job so far,” he says. “Don’t you think, Neela?”
You should probably be more annoyed at the way Duke undercut your story, but at the same time, even if it could’ve done without some of the less flattering details, it has its own charm. Like your own that you’ve passed on to your children, it’s a story of a lineage to be proud of: courage and unity winning your ancestors an honor most Pokémon could only dream of.
Your children are tired now and your elder child is now pawing at his eyes, while your second stretches out against the carpet, before looking up with a curious murmur.
“Wait, but Duke? There weren’t any Mienshao in that story at all,” he remarks. “Were they not there already when the Druddigon came?”
You stiffen up at your child’s question. Even as it is told among its Druddigon, the story of how Mienshao came to be is one that doesn’t reflect them at their finest. About how for all their strength and valor, they ultimately needed help making good on their duties in the midst of winter’s chill. Duke sees your tension, with a chuckling shake of his head, he opts to spare you further embarrassment for tonight.
“That’s a story for another night, little one,” your mentor says. “You look tired, and it’s important for a young dragon like you to stay warm and rest on a cold night like tonight.”
The Mienshao gets up and drifts off, for his own corner elsewhere in the house that he claims in at night. You settle in with your children, curling up together beside the fire as your Second of Two paws at your chest and looks into your eyes.
“I liked your version of the story more, mom,” he tells you. “Though will we ever get to go to that tower ourselves?”
You look down, and nuzzle at your child as a knowing smile comes over your maw.
“We will, sweetie. When you and your brother are a bit older.”
You curl up with your children beside the fire and begin to drift off. For a fleeting moment, you wonder to yourself… between your story and Duke’s, which of the two is closer to the truth? Duke’s version of the tale you knew is apparently closer to the ones most others tell, so does that mean that your wasn’t right?
You think back to Duke’s reassurance at the end and ultimately decide to leave things be. Whatever really happened, those Druddigon won the gods’ trust in the end.
It is a lineage you and your children carry, and one that you all can be proud of.
“Ha ha! I’ve got you this time!”
But living among humans allows one to live in ways outside the workings of nature. As the warm fireplace you’re basking yourself next to reminds. You raise your head and peer out with your piercing yellow eyes as a pair of young Druddigon, spitting images of yourself, romp and chase each other around the couch of your trainer’s living room.
Even with the snow and winter chill kept safely at bay, your children surprise you at times with how much energy they have. Especially now when the streetlights outside are lit and the moon and stars in the sky.
“Kids… it’s getting late, keep it down,” you mutter tiredly. “Your trainers are trying to sleep right now.”
As were you, for that matter. But your children seem to have other things in mind. They look at you from the couch with whines of protest.
“Aww, but mom!”
He is your Second of Two, and were you living back in the wilds, that would be his name among your kind until he accomplished his first feat worth being remembered for. He is ‘Rudd’ to the humans you live with, and your First of Two ‘Rufus’. You’re not sure what the story behind how they chose them is, but that’s not on your mind at the moment.
“Enough. Both of you, come and rest-”
You throw a set of claws out to tugg at your younger child, only to recoil after they feel cold to the touch. A flash of alarm goes across your eyes, before you scowl down with a scolding growl.
“Ack, your scales feel freezing right now!” you hiss. “How are you two not bothered by this?! Come on by the fire and warm up right now! It’s not good for young dragons like you to be this cold.”
“Aren’t there those ‘vent’ thingies we can just lay on?” your elder child asks, giving a sheepish grin.
You decide to put your foot down and slip past your children, nudging them forward with a sharp harrumph. They squirm briefly and you sigh to yourself expecting them to put up a fuss.
“Nonsense, you’ll stay warmer huddled up with me,” you insist. “Why back when I lived in the wilds, I’d do that every winter with the other Druddigon that I lived around.”
The pair stop fighting back for a moment, before they turn and look up at you with puzzled frowns.
“In that tower north of the town that you and Duke talk about?” your elder child asks. “Why on earth would Druddigon want to live there?”
“Yeah, there’s no fireplaces in there to stay warm with!” your younger child insists. “Are there?”
Well, it’d common practice to occasionally break brumation to warm the ground with a gout of dragonfire and stave off the cold that way. But such practices don’t mix well with the flooring of human dens, especially ones fashioned from this fuzzy ‘carpet’ underfoot, so you opt not to give your kids ideas just yet.
“No, but there’s a lot of Pokémon like you and me there, and others that are friends to them like your friends with your trainers,” you explain. “It’s a very, very special place that a lot of other dragons elsewhere in Unova would be jealous about coming from.”
Your Second of Two bats his wings tilts his head with a puzzled frown in reply.
“Huh? How come?” he asks. “I know you’ve said it’s a special place… but why would that make the Pokémon there friends with one another.”
… Maybe this was just the break you needed to wrangle them over. And the tale answering his question is one that you and the other Druddigon from your home always took pride in.
“Well, it’d be a bit hard to tell you the story running and jumping around, you chuckle. “Come with me by the hearth and I’ll tell it to you, sound fair?”
They murmur in agreement and follow you back to the fireside. You settle in against the warmed carpet, and so do they, scooting up against your hide. You see them stretch their wings and shift to try and steal the heat from the fireplace. If you can just keep them here a couple minutes, they’ll surely be too content to want to give it up.
And so, you look down as your First of Two paws at you, and turns his snout up with a curious blink.
“So, how did Druddigon like you wind up living in that tower?”
There… are a number of versions of that story that go about, among humans and Pokémon alike since it’s not just Druddigon who came to Dragonspiral Tower. Though you decide to focus just them, after all, it should be just long enough to hold them until they start to nod off.
And it’s always been a matter of pride for you, as a story of your and your children’s kind.
“Well, long, long ago, there were gods that lived among humans and Pokémon in this land. Gods who were dragons, like you and me,” you begin. “Back in those times, the tower was built as a sanctuary by humans who worshipped them, along with the help of Golett and Golurk who lived among them, all faithful friends and helpers who showered them with tributes of food and treasure.”
“Wait, but I thought the tower was built for a god,” your younger child cuts in.
You catch yourself, since the story behind how Dragonspiral Tower came to be the roost of one god is an unhappy tale involving ruin by fire and lightning. You’re… not sure that your children need to hear that story. Or at least not at their present age.
“It’s… complicated to explain, and a story for another day since it came sometime well after the first Druddigon moved in,” you insist. “But the point is that at the time it was built for two who shared it as a den, much like we share this one together.”
“But wouldn’t those dragons already have plenty of friends already?” your First of Two asks. “You just said there were a bunch of humans and Golett, weren’t they?”
“Yeah, and dad says that dragons like him normally like having places of their own for a den that they don’t have to share.”
You sigh to yourself as your children’s energy is slower to wane than you’d thought. Perhaps if your mate were here, this would be an easier task. But he’s with his own human and far away at the moment, so this is a matter that you must go alone, and keep your story going.
“Well… yes, but the gods’ den was so big that it was a bit lonely. And even with the friends the humans provided, they didn’t think like them,” you insist. “They wanted friends that would know what it was like to bask in the sun, of the thrill of finding a treasure and showing it to others. And so it was that the gods asked for the humans to find them additional friends who would be dragons like them.”
You linger briefly expecting your children to pepper you with more questions, only to see that they’re glancing at you in rapt attention. You quietly sigh in relief that you won’t have more to explain just yet and continue on with your tale.
“And so it was that the ancients that built the tower went all through Unova searching for dragons for them to be friends and helpers for them, to stand guard over the grounds and accept the treasures brought to them by visitors. They first brought forth Haxorus and their kin,” you say. “They stood tall and proud, and felled their foes with a mighty chop of their tusks… and as dragons who didn’t eat much meat while they were younger, struck the ancients as ideal companions.”
You trail off a bit for dramatic effect, and give an affected, disappointed shake of your head. Much as your own mother did when recounting this tale to you so many moons ago.
“Unfortunately they were a bit too open to fight, both with the Pokémon already there at the tower and with each other, and day and night, they kept quarreling over who would be highest among themselves as guardians,” you continue. “Things went on and on to the point where the gods themselves couldn’t sleep until one day, they bellowed their displeasure and chased the Haxorus away from the tower with fire and thunder nipping at their tails.”
Your children jostle against you and turn their heads up, pawing at you with worried grimaces.
“... Wait, but dad’s a Haxorus and he’s not like that,” your elder child insists. “... Is he?”
“And… is this god still mad at him then?” your younger asks.
You flinch briefly and bite your tongue. That wasn’t at all what you wanted your children to take from that part of the story! You sit up entirely, waving your claws vigorously in protest as you speak back to them.
“No! No! Not at all! It’s just that of the dragons that were brought before the gods, those Haxorus didn’t understand the importance of the duty they were entrusted with and all left a bad first impression as a result,” “The gods that roost there didn’t hold a grudge against all of them. It’d have been awful for most dragons in this land if they did, especially for the Hydreigon and their kin who took the Haxorus’ place afterwards.”
Your children jolt up with a start themselves and sit up, pulling their wings in and looking up nervously at you.
“... Wait, Hydreigon?” your Second of Two asks. “But why on earth would the gods want Pokémon so scary watching over their den?”
“Well, being scary’s not a bad thing all the time. After all, there’s plenty of Pokémon that would call you or me scary, and a scary guard can help chase away others that mean you harm,” you explain. “But part of being a guard for someone else is that you still need to be kindly to their guests, which the Hydreigon and their kin… weren’t.”
You look at your claws, and decide that while you’re still seated… perhaps a bit of acting to stir your children’s imagination is in order. You hold your arms out and curl your claws in almost like mouths, spreading your wings to mimic their appearances.
“When the Hydreigon came, they too fought amongst each other, and they stripped much of the surrounding forests bare to feed themselves. Worse still, many of them nursed grudges against the humans who summoned them from quarrels past,” you say, flashing your fangs for ominous effect. “And as the gods’ new guardians, they took every opportunity they could to lord over the nearby humans and their companions. To the point where others stopped visiting the gods because they were too afraid of their guards and how they’d treat them.”
You see your children scoot in towards each other and hold onto each other, visibly shivering and wide-eyed. That’s probably a sign to reel things in. After all, this is supposed to be a happy story, not a frightening one.
“After seeing their visitors dwindle along with their gifts of treasure, the gods once again bellowed their displeasure and chased the Hydreigon away from the tower with fire and thunder nipping at their tails.”
That seems to do the trick as your children calm down and settle in again, your First of Two blinking with a curious raise of his eye.
“How many other dragons were brought to the tower anyways?”
“All the ones that could be found from Unova,” you explain. “All of which caused their own troubles when brought over.”
You rise to your feet entirely. There was quite a list of other dragons that failed to secu moving your wings and limbs as you try to mimic the forms of each one.
“The Flygon would keep digging up the stones set up about the tower. The Altaria would sing and trill at inappropriate times. The Salamence would spend more time flying about than standing guard and burn their surroundings when angered,” you finish, with your wings held flat and wide. “But in the end, each and every one of them did two things that wore the gods’ patience thin…”
“They kept fighting with each other and the Pokémon and humans who were already there?”
You turn back and look at your children, with your elder finishing your words before you can finish with a quiet yawn. You settle back down in the carpet and give a small smile, content that thus far, your scheme has been bearing fruit.
“That’s right, and like every group of dragons before, the gods would chase them away with fire and lightning,” you reply, nodding. “And so it was that the late fall came, just before the first snowflakes fall from the sky, when the first Druddigon came.”
“Wait, but why would things turn out differently for them?” your Second of Two asks. “Since if all those other dragons made the gods upset… what made them so special?”
“Well, part of it is that they came for different reasons,” you explain, casting a glance out at the snowy world outside through the living room window.
“... Unlike the other dragons, the Druddigon had lost their home in the mountains earlier that year and searched for another outside of it during the warm months,” you tell them. “During their wanderings, they had heard stories of a tower that was to be given away as a den for dragons, so long as they impressed the gods and their guardians inside.”
“But how did they do that?” he presses.
“By working together!” you chuckle back. “After hearing of the earlier dragons’ squabbles, the Druddigon’s elder dragons gathered their ranks together and declared that if they would merely work together, that the den would be there for all.”
Well, things were undoubtedly more complicated than that, but you’ve always been fondest of the version of the story your mother and the other Druddigon you lived around told most frequently. And thus, you stick to it and continue on.
“And so they bravely marched forth, young and old, weak and strong, meeting the gods’ guardians in combat and fighting them to a draw,” you say, smiling back. “Their strength and teamwork so impressed the gods that they offered them the honor of guardianship at once.”
Your children’s eyes are excited now as they murmur to themselves about how exciting it must have been to impress such strong Pokémon when even the likes of mighty Haxorus and Hydreigon fell short. Their eyelids are starting to grow heavy, and content that your storytelling has done its work, you start to curl up towards the fire and give a content smile.
“And that was how Druddigon like us came to live in Dragonspiral Tower.”
That seems as good a note as any to wind things down, and to give the last nudge needed to push your children off towards sleep. You start to reach out to pull them in towards you, when a quiet, disapproving voice speaks up from behind.
“... That’s not how I remember the version of the story that I heard, Neela. And I grew up around Dragonspiral Tower myself.”
You stiffen up after hearing the name your humans use for you called out and turn to see a Mienshao approach with a small, quiet frown. That’s ‘Duke’ as your humans call him, which you suppose has rubbed off on you from habit. He’s the Pokémon who showed you the ropes when you started partnering with the humans of this family, and he carries wisdom from both life among humans and the time before.
It’s the second one that has you a bit worried, as you speak up to try and brush him off.
“Ah, yes. Well, it’s folklore,” you insist. “There’s usually different versions that go around.”
“Maybe so, but even that’s definitely not how most versions of the story I heard went,” the Mienshao retorts, folding his arms. “Especially the part about how the Druddigon came into the tower. It’s not quite as simple a story as that.”
You grimace as the children are suddenly more awake now, and much to your chagrin, much as children tend to do, your younger child lets curiosity get the better of him and he glances up at the Mienshao.
“Oh? What was different about the version you heard?”
Duke doesn’t frown, but even so, his expression remains firm as he squats to lower himself down to the youngsters’ level.
“Well, their purpose for coming was a bit different in the one I usually hear. In the wilds, Druddigon don’t just hunt for food, but also for dens,” Duke explains. “When they come across one that’s pleasing to them, sometimes they will try and drive off its owner to claim it for themselves.”
He shakes his head as you tighten your claws against the the carpet and quietly cringe. You’ve heard the version of the story Duke’s telling too, and it’s not one
“And that was what brought them to Dragonspiral Tower. They had been wandering from the mountains, when in the late fall on Icirrus’ Moor, they came across the tower. They saw that it was a pleasing den, but much too big for any of them to take alone, so their elders said: ‘let us join claws and hunt this den from its inhabitants for ourselves’.”
Your children are starting to waver now, as that sense of wonder you worked so hard to instill leaves their eyes and a doubtful unease takes its place.
“... Wait, but aren’t there Golett and Golurk at the tower still?” your elder child asks. “Doesn’t that mean that the Druddigon lost?”
“Well, yes and no. Your mother is right about them fighting the defenders to a draw, and some even say they gained the upper hand,” the Mienshao says, before shaking his head.
“The problem was that that day the gods came back to roost,” the Fighting-type continues. “When they found out about what these strangers had done to their companions, they were understandably displeased.”
Your grumble under your breath about how Duke just had to step in and ruin your story right before the kids were about to sleep. Their wings are now drooped and their heads held low in disappointment, as your Second of Two uneasily speaks up to ask:
“What… happened then?”
“Well, in the version of the story I heard, the gods grew enraged and bellowed their displeasure and swooped down, throwing fire and lightning before the Druddigon,” Duke explained. “It is said the Druddigon grew sore afraid in the gods’ presence, to the point where some of them even fell ill out of fright—”
You’ve had enough. You don’t understand why Duke is doing this since as your mentor, it’s not like him to just embarrass you like this in front of others. You let out a sharp glare and growl your displeasure.
“Alright Duke, we don’t need to hear the rest,” you snap. “I just wanted to give the kids a nice story before they went to sleep before you had to step in and ruin things.”
He falls quiet for a moment, before looking over with a small smile and a wave of a wispy-furred paw.
“Then wouldn’t it make sense for me to end before the story’s over now would it?” he asks. “After all, while the truth of any story doesn’t always show Pokémon like us at our best, in this case, of all the dragons that came before them, it was indeed the Druddigon that the gods chose to help protect their tower.
You blink and realize that Duke must be telling a version of the story of how Dragonspiral Tower came to have Druddigon that was different than you thought. The children blink in confusion as they
“They… did?” your Second of Two asks. “But why?”
“Yeah, so far, your story just made it sound like the Druddigon were mean to the Pokémon that were already there!” your First of Two protests. “And then grew scaredy after they made the gods mad. Why on earth would the gods want them after all that?”
“Well, most Pokémon would be scared in their situation, dragon or not. But in the end, amidst the roaring and the fire and lightning, the whole time, the Druddigon did not yield or turn away or flee like the other dragons,” the Mienshao explained. “They alone stood firm, if visibly quaking.”
You blink at the Mienshao’s answer, and your features ease a bit. He sees them himself, before he raises a paw and continues on with his tale.
“With embers and sparks dancing about them, the gods held back their power briefly and demanded of the Druddigon: ‘Why did you come here and harm our guardians? Did you really think that you could best the gods’ might?’”
Duke trails off briefly, studying your reaction and your children’s. He sees that that curious spark has returned to their eyes. Even if they’re not as excited as they were for your version of the story, they don’t look disappointed anymore.
“At the gods’ demand, one of the Druddigon from the front fell to his belly with a heartful plea: ‘Lords of Black and White, have pity! We sought your tower for ourselves because our dens were hunted from us and we have none to shield ourselves from winter’s snow!’”
You see the children stiffen up and glance out the window towards the snow through the window and wince at the sight. Being stuck in such weather without shelter all winter would be the end of many a dragon, and while this too is in the version of events you were worried Duke would bring up… somehow his take feels like it doesn’t make light of those Druddigon of bygone times.
“The other Druddigon joined in and with one voice desperately echoed their companion’s plea, explaining that if they turned away, they would surely die. If not from the gods’ wrath, then from the snow. The gods were moved by their plight lingered for a moment, before one, their identity lost to time spoke up.”
This time, Duke brings his eyes to yours, and runs a paw on it, giving a small smile down at you as words that surprise you come from his mouth
“‘Stand tall, brave and noble dragons. For you have displayed unity and humility where all others before you failed, and did not yield even in the face of certain death.’”
You blink up at your mentor. You can’t tell if he’s just saying this to make you feel better or not. In tellings of this tale you’ve heard where the teller accused the Druddigon of acting craven, the gods didn’t say anything like that to them.
“For a fleeting moment, the Druddigon were at a loss, when the other of the gods spoke up in stern warning: ‘So long as you dwell in our domains, you shall never claim this land as its masters but defend it on our behalf. You shall live amongst our other servants as equals. They shall be your allies and you shall be theirs,’” the Mienshao continued. “And so they lowered their heads and marched forth, and took their place among Dragonspiral Tower’s guardians.”
The Mienshao stoops down and pats at your children’s crests, before turning to you with a knowing smile.
“Considering how there’s Druddigon that live out there to this day, I’d think that they’ve done a pretty good job so far,” he says. “Don’t you think, Neela?”
You should probably be more annoyed at the way Duke undercut your story, but at the same time, even if it could’ve done without some of the less flattering details, it has its own charm. Like your own that you’ve passed on to your children, it’s a story of a lineage to be proud of: courage and unity winning your ancestors an honor most Pokémon could only dream of.
Your children are tired now and your elder child is now pawing at his eyes, while your second stretches out against the carpet, before looking up with a curious murmur.
“Wait, but Duke? There weren’t any Mienshao in that story at all,” he remarks. “Were they not there already when the Druddigon came?”
You stiffen up at your child’s question. Even as it is told among its Druddigon, the story of how Mienshao came to be is one that doesn’t reflect them at their finest. About how for all their strength and valor, they ultimately needed help making good on their duties in the midst of winter’s chill. Duke sees your tension, with a chuckling shake of his head, he opts to spare you further embarrassment for tonight.
“That’s a story for another night, little one,” your mentor says. “You look tired, and it’s important for a young dragon like you to stay warm and rest on a cold night like tonight.”
The Mienshao gets up and drifts off, for his own corner elsewhere in the house that he claims in at night. You settle in with your children, curling up together beside the fire as your Second of Two paws at your chest and looks into your eyes.
“I liked your version of the story more, mom,” he tells you. “Though will we ever get to go to that tower ourselves?”
You look down, and nuzzle at your child as a knowing smile comes over your maw.
“We will, sweetie. When you and your brother are a bit older.”
You curl up with your children beside the fire and begin to drift off. For a fleeting moment, you wonder to yourself… between your story and Duke’s, which of the two is closer to the truth? Duke’s version of the tale you knew is apparently closer to the ones most others tell, so does that mean that your wasn’t right?
You think back to Duke’s reassurance at the end and ultimately decide to leave things be. Whatever really happened, those Druddigon won the gods’ trust in the end.
It is a lineage you and your children carry, and one that you all can be proud of.
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