Pokémon The Quest for the Legends

[Dragonfree]

Chapter thirteen's art took a while but here we go, finally. Another one of my favorite chapters back in the day, which is to say it involves mortal peril and is a bit wild.

Chapter 13: The Black Desert​

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“Hmmm… yeah, it’s definitely shorter…”

May was looking at the Ouen map at the Pokémon Center while Mark was petting Eevee, who was curled up in his arms, half-asleep.

“What is shorter than what?” Mark asked.

“It’s shorter to go through the Black Desert to Scorpio City than around it,” May replied.

“Black Desert?” asked Mark doubtfully. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“We’ve got our Pokémon,” May just said.

“But May… if the normal route goes around the desert, there’s got to be a reason for it, right?” Mark asked, not at all convinced.

“What could possibly happen? We’ve got strong Pokémon to fend off any wild ones, we’ve got Water Pokémon who can quench our thirst in the unlikely case of emergency, and it isn’t very far anyway.”

Suddenly she added: “You’ve got a sleeping bag, right? We aren’t going to find a hotel in the desert, you know.”

“Yeah, of course,” Mark answered, immediately afterwards realizing that this had sounded like he was agreeing.

“Come on, we should hurry,” May said and marched outside. Mark had no choice but to follow her, wondering whether she had intentionally tricked him into answering the sleeping bag question.

-------

On they walked, out of the city, into the mountains, higher and higher up. There were a few Pokémon there, but not many, and they were easily taken care of. The sky was clear and the sun shone with blazing intensity, making it rather uncomfortably hot.

“I do not look forward to walking through that desert in this,” Mark moaned. May ignored him.

They walked all day with a few stops, entering the sandy, lifeless wasteland known as the Black Desert around six o’clock.

“The ‘Black Desert’?” Mark asked, looking blankly over the yellowish-brown dunes.

“It’s just a name,” said May, shrugging. “Come on.”

The sun slowly sank into the horizon as they were on their way through the desert. It quickly got ice cold, and finally they decided to stop for the night. Charmeleon got to sleep outside of his Pokéball due to the tail flame, which made them feel safer.

“What’s so black about it?” Mark asked, lying in his sleeping bag and staring into the fire.

“Go to sleep,” May muttered.

He took her advice.

-------

When a lone Murkrow flew over the desert a short while later, he witnessed a most peculiar sight.

It was as if a stream of jet-black ink started seeping out through the dunes, covering the sand. If he had then lowered his flight, so as to see what was going on, he might have noticed that the flood was in fact made of thousands and millions of relatively small creatures, black as night.

Their movements were synchronized like those of a school of fish, yet there were so many that to the Murkrow high above, it seemed like a blanket of shadow had spread out over the sand.

Had the Murkrow landed, it would have been his doom.

-------

Something was creeping up on Mark again. It was not Scyther or Fangcat; it was a new threat, shrouded in darkness. He had gotten used to these dreams the previous night, but there was something eerie about this one that sent a chill down his spine.

All of a sudden, the dream burst into an eruption of flames. It was so burning hot that Mark found himself awake and sitting upright the next second, facing the answer to his question from earlier.

All around, a crowd of pitch-black scorpion-like Pokémon faced him with their segmented tails raised. Each had two yellow, pupil-less, evil-looking eyes on the front of its head. Two pincers snapped at the end of the foremost set of limbs. And it was so crowded that there was no sight of the sand anywhere except just near where the kids were. The Black Desert was indeed black.

For some reason, May was also awake, staring at the scorpions with the same expression of horror that Mark had. Charmeleon was still asleep, blissfully unaware of it all.

“What are they?” May whispered.

Mark didn’t answer; he just reached for the Pokédex clipped to his belt and pointed it at one of the scorpions with a trembling hand.

“Scorplack, scorpion Pokémon,” said the Pokédex in an electronically calm voice. “Native only to the Black Desert, they sleep buried in the sand during the day and come out in hordes in the night to hunt. They are actually blind, but have eye-like spots on their heads to frighten enemies. Scientists debate on whether to classify them as Bug/Poison or Poison/Dark.”

Mark closed his Pokédex, swallowing. While that was to be expected, the Pokédex had confirmed them as venomous, and a Dark type, even if debatable, was usually only given to Pokémon that were known to occasionally ‘play dirty’ – such as by attacking humans for prey.

Well, obviously they weren’t surrounding them to congratulate them on being the millionth people to cross the desert. Mark just wondered why they hadn’t attacked yet. They were just standing still, staring at them with their fake eyes.

“Charmeleon,” he said, poking his partner, “we have… er, a bit of a problem.”

The lizard mumbled and grudgingly opened his eyes. Upon seeing the Scorplack, he jumped to his feet and faced them, growling.

“I think he has a point,” May said, standing up and taking four Pokéballs off her necklace. “Butterfree, Skarmory, Pikachu, Larvitar!”

“Sandshrew, Dratini, Scyther, go!” Mark shouted, releasing his Pokémon too.

Then the battle started.

As soon as the Pokémon came out of their Pokéballs, the Scorplack started crawling towards them, trying to sting them. Charmeleon did pretty well frying them before they came too near; Sandshrew had a certain resistance to poison as a Ground-type but Mark ended up recalling him because Earthquake did same as nothing in this sand. Dratini surrounded himself with a Twister, preventing the Scorplack from getting near enough. Scyther was too fast for them, swooping down and cutting their tails off to make them unable to harm the others. Thankfully, Scyther and Charmeleon were too busy to even notice each other.

May’s Pokémon were doing better than Mark’s. Butterfree fluttered above, sending flurries of toxic spores down to put a crowd of them to sleep at a time, while her Skarmory, being absolutely immune to poison of any kind, dived down to drill its beak into the scorpions. Pikachu aimed bolts of lightning at some of the bigger ones, but Larvitar attempted to blow them away with Sandstorm. Meanwhile, the kids, protected by their Pokémon, hurriedly packed up their sleeping bags.

But the Scorplack were too numerous. Pikachu, Dratini, Butterfree and Larvitar got exhausted after a short while and their trainers recalled them. Scyther, Charmeleon and Skarmory fought valiantly, but Mark could see Charmeleon panting between his Flamethrowers.

Then he got stung.

While Charmeleon was catching his breath, one of the Scorplack swung its tail and hit the lizard’s leg. He went stiff, sent a powerful blast of flames at the Scorplack and kept fighting, but was clearly sweating and growing weaker with every passing moment.

“Damn you, stupid thing!”

Mark turned around to see May kick a Scorplack away. Her ankle was bleeding and had a slightly purple hue.

“You got stung?” he asked, his eyes wide.

“No, that’s ketchup and food coloring,” she replied icily.

Mark was distracted by Charmeleon letting out a weak “Chaaar…” as he passed out. He recalled him, turning worriedly back to May as the moon and stars became their only light source. Maybe it was just the bluish-white light, but she seemed pale.

“I… I think… Skarmory could maybe carry us to Scorpio City… he knows Fly…” she said weakly.

Mark nodded, recalling Scyther, as Skarmory, who had heard that, landed. Both kids quickly jumped onto the bird’s steely back, and he took off. Mark breathed out a sigh of relief as they ascended, away from the Scorplack.

Then he discovered that May was unconscious.

-------

It wasn’t that long a flight to the borders of Scorpio City. Scorpio Valley was a big valley shaped oddly like a scorpion, and the city was located in the tail end. It was pretty small; calling it a city wasn’t really appropriate, but it was still called that because it had a Pokémon gym.

Skarmory was getting exhausted after flying there with two human kids on his back, and once they reached the city, he let himself glide down into the street and collapsed. Mark shot a quick look at May; she was very pale and completely limp.

He took one of the Pokéballs on her necklace and recalled the fainted bird, left alone with an unconscious girl on a street in the middle of the night.

“Help!” he shouted into the darkness. “Can somebody help me?”

But nobody answered.

He looked desperately around; a deep purple-painted building stood nearby, with the letters GYM on the front of it. The street lamps lit up an empty main road; all the houses were quiet.

He turned back to May and jumped when he saw a young man wearing a black cape kneeling down beside her, touching her forehead.

“Scorplack,” the man muttered as he checked her pulse.

He looked quickly up at Mark, his shoulder-length silver hair flashing back.

“Where did you come from?” Mark asked, puzzled at his sudden appearance. The man ignored his question and instead introduced himself in a fast but very clear, soft voice:

“My name is Mitch; I am the leader of the official Pokémon gym of Scorpio City and an expert on poisons. Can you tell me how long has it been since she was stung?”

“Maybe ten, fifteen minutes,” Mark answered. “Why?”

Mitch ignored his question again. “How long did it take for her to pass out?”

“Not long, one or two minutes at the most. Why?”

Mitch’s big, shiny, gray eyes observed him for a second; Mark felt uncomfortably like he was being X-rayed.

“Then you should pray for her life.”

Mitch picked up the unconscious girl and ran swiftly towards the purple-colored building.

It took a bit of time for his last words to sink in, but then Mark hurried after him.

-------

He entered the gym, panting. It split into three corridors; the left one had a sign on the wall saying TO THE BATTLE ARENA. The middle one ended in a door saying DO NOT ENTER. The right one led to another door, which was open. Mark carefully stepped through it.

The room he entered looked like an ordinary living room, with a few dark brown leather couches, a coffee table and a carpet with a navy and gold pattern on the floor. May was lying on the big sofa, but he didn’t see Mitch anywhere.

Speak of the devil, Mark thought as the young man from earlier stepped through the door behind him, not seeming surprised to see Mark there. Mark was going to apologize for walking inside like that, but Mitch just walked up to May and injected something into her arm.

Then he sat down on another couch and offered Mark a seat beside him. Hesitating, Mark sat down.

“Scorplack’s poison is very interesting,” said Mitch out of the blue, not looking at Mark, but rather straight into the air. “When it gets into your bloodstream, it somehow slows down all cells it reaches. The longer it is in the body, the more everything slows down. Then finally, it all stops – unless the person has gotten the antidote in time. The antidote slows down the effect of the poison, so the timing is everything. If the poison kills before the antidote has stopped it, the victim dies. If the antidote stops it too late, the victim will live, but never wake up. Otherwise, the victim will heal completely.”

“Is she going to die?” Mark asked quietly.

“Maybe,” said Mitch slowly, still looking into the air rather than into Mark’s eyes.

“How are the odds?”

“Bad,” said Mitch simply. “If she fainted in one or two minutes, it must have been a strong Scorplack. Ten or twenty percent, I guess.”

“That’s awfully little…” Mark said with a horrible knot in his stomach.

“Odds are meaningless,” said Mitch calmly. “Imagine you’re holding a die with a hundred faces. I walk up to you and say, ‘Give me ten thousand Pokédollars, throw the die, and if you get a hundred, I’ll pay you back a million’. You’d never take the offer. What are the odds you’ll get exactly a hundred? It’s very unlikely that you’d be achieving anything except losing ten thousand Pokédollars. And as we all know, it’s just as unlikely that you’ll get ninety-nine, or ninety-eight. In fact, the odds for each side are so small that you’d never bet on one of them. Still, you can somehow throw it, and be positive that as unlikely as it is, you will get one of them. We could repeat it with a die that has a thousand faces, or a million. What are the odds that a mass of carbon can stand up and walk of its own accord? Almost none, yet you see the proof that it happened all around you. Do not think about odds. Odds are an illusion.”

Mark had never thought about it that way. He couldn’t think of an answer, so he said nothing. Neither did Mitch; he just kept staring at nothing.

“Does it hurt to have that poison in your body?” Mark suddenly asked.

“Not really,” Mitch said, still like he was speaking to the air. “It’s not comfortable, but doesn’t exactly hurt.”

“So it’s a painless thing to die from?”

Mitch smiled faintly. “Those who know that are all dead, I’m afraid.”

“How do you know what having the poison in your body feels like, then?” Mark asked.

Mitch nodded slowly. “I was just a kid, having just gotten my starter, a Venonat. We went into the desert, I stayed there for a bit too long and ran into one Scorplack that was a bit early, didn’t know it was dangerous and therefore didn’t watch out. I got stung, I caught it, and I fainted while I was walking back to Scorpio City.”

“But you were alone, weren’t you?” asked Mark, puzzled. “Who saved you?”

Mitch took his time answering this question; he peered at the starlit sky through a window in the ceiling for a while, still with that faint smile on his lips.

“Nobody,” he finally answered. “I should be dead.”

Mark decided not to ask more about this.

“When will we know what will happen to her?”

Mitch stood up. “I left a sample of her blood in the research room. It should be ready now; wait here while I go to see the results. But you might find out before me. If she moves, she’s getting better. If she stops breathing, she’s dead.”

And he left Mark alone with May.

“Oh, please,” he muttered, “not this! Why can’t I have a normal journey without a gym leader giving me Mew or a madman threatening to kill me or somebody dying or deranged Pokémon or stupid nightmares?”

“It must be your fate to have difficulties,” said a soft voice inside his head. He jerked his head upwards to find Mew floating there. The pink creature’s eyes were filled with sadness.

“Mew! Just who I needed! Can’t you heal her?”

“No,” answered the legendary Pokémon. “Scorplack’s affiliation with the element of darkness prevents psychic powers from affecting anything having to do with them.”

“But if she dies, you can just resurrect her, can’t you?” Mark asked.

“She would merely die again, as the poison remains in her blood,” said Mew.

“Oh. Why are you following me?” Mark mumbled.

“I do not follow one person,” Mew said calmly. “I come when I feel that I should.”

“Really?” asked Mark dully.

“And now I feel I should leave,” said Mew before disappearing in a flash of purple.

There was a reason for that feeling, at least; Mitch entered just a second later.

“Good news,” he said. “She will most likely make it. She got the antidote in time. How do you know her, anyway?”

“Eh, we ended up going through the desert together, goodness knows how… it was her idea,” he quickly added.

“You didn’t get stung at all?” Mitch asked.

“No, my Pokémon held them back…”

He suddenly realized what he had forgotten. His face went pale.

“Charmeleon! He also got stung! Quick, give him some antidote…”

Mark took out the Pokéball and sent out his unconscious lizard on the floor. Mitch bent down and examined him, then injected some of the antidote into his arm.

“Will he be okay?” Mark asked worriedly.

“Pokémon are stronger than many people give them credit for,” said Mitch with a smile. “One sting from a Scorplack won’t kill any decent Pokémon. Humans, however…”

He trailed off, but then started again.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Pokémon are superior to us, but we’re the ones who ‘own’ them. And there’s a reason for it. Pokémon, while quite matching our intelligence, lack one thing. It is creativity. On their own, Pokémon only use battling techniques passed down generation by generation. Taking two things we know and figuring out that we can make something new out of them, that is our specialty, and that is exactly what they can’t do. This is why they seek our company in the first place. We can teach them things that seem obvious to us, but their brains have never been built to understand. Even Alakazam, with an IQ of 5000, will battle far better with a human’s aid. We need each other.”

For a moment Mitch seemed to be in deep thought. Then he absent-mindedly picked Charmeleon up and placed him on the coffee table.

“Well, now we just have to wait. Want a drink?”

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Love May socially awkward penguining Mark into following her into the ominously named desert by making him agree to a different question entirely.

It's pretty amazing Mark has just never heard of this desert full of deadly scorpions that regularly nearly poison people to death, and that there are no, like, signs or anything advising people to maybe not go into it, or at least not stay overnight. Even Mitch, who apparently lived in Scorpio City, knew he shouldn't be in the desert after dark, but somehow also didn't know Scorplack were dangerous. The treatment of this makes so little sense.

It has bothered me for like fifteen years how this chapter makes it out like Scorpio City gets to be a "city" because it has a gym, but then one of the actual biggest settlements in the region, which also has a gym, is called "Green Town" and I knew this perfectly well when I wrote this revision. Why.

Also love how Mark makes May almost dying all about himself, classy move.

Hope you enjoyed this exceedingly pointless Random Mew Appearance that has multiple layers of plot relevance I had zero idea about when I wrote it!

 

[Dragonfree]

Chapter fourteen! Emerged as kind of a sudden unexpected favorite for me when I reread the whole fic to comment on it after I finished it, despite featuring a bunch of absolute nonsense.

Chapter 14: Thief and Victim​

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Mark woke up feeling very refreshed. He scanned through his memory, but didn’t remember dreaming anything at all. Well, that was relieving. The ‘nightmare phase’ seemed to be over.

“Had a good rest?”

He jerked his head upwards to find Mitch still sitting on the couch. Mark looked sleepily out of the window; judging from the bright sunshine, he had fallen asleep sometime in the night, despite having had some coke to keep him awake. Charmeleon stood on the coffee table, seemingly healthy, and while May was lying motionless on the sofa, her chest was rising and falling as it should.

“Yeah, pretty good,” Mark said, stretching.

“Any… dreams?” asked Mitch, suddenly looking into Mark’s eyes. The question had to be a coincidence, but the way Mitch looked at Mark gave it some more of a meaning.

“No, not that I remember,” he mumbled, turning away.

“Good…” Mitch said softly, also turning to look out of the window. Nobody said anything for a long time. Then finally, May’s eyes opened.

She blinked a few times and sat up. “What place is this?” she asked confusedly, looking around.

“You are in the Scorpio City Gym,” said Mitch. “The poison in your bloodstream has been neutralized, and your body will handle cleaning it up.”

“Oh.” She paused, looking at Mitch for a second. Then she turned to Mark.

“What happened after we flew away on Skarmory?”

“Well,” Mark began, taking a deep breath, “we flew over here, Skarmory crashed out of exhaustion, I recalled him for you and then Mitch, the gym leader, appeared out of nowhere and gave you a shot with some antidote.”

“Oh,” May replied. After a few seconds, she turned back to Mitch. “Thanks.”

“It’s my job,” said Mitch and smiled that faint smile again.

“What time is it?” asked May, turning towards the window. Suddenly, she froze, and then pulled Mark’s sleeve.

“Quilava!” she hissed, before suddenly dashing out through the door. Mark shot an apologetic glance at Mitch and then followed her.

-------

Taylor held his Blaziken Pokédex in his right hand, squinting at the Ouen map on the screen. Absent-mindedly, he sat down on a bench.

He had teleported to Scorpio City the day before and taken on the gym leader. His brother, Rick, had lent him the prototype Abratwo to get there. Taylor would have loved to keep it – after all, it had been very impressive – but Rick had always been obsessed with only giving him the best of the best. That was sometimes nice, but often irritating because Taylor wasn’t as much of a perfectionist as his brother. He just wanted something decent, and would rather not wait ages to get something absolutely flawless.

Then again, it didn’t matter now. He had just received the ultimate replacement.

Taylor broke into a grin as he plucked his three Pokéballs off his Pokéball belt and placed them beside him. He picked up one of the two Clone Balls, looking at it. Clones were strong. His first clone, Pikatwo, contained in his other Clone Ball, had never lost a battle.

Taylor sighed, shooting a quick glance at the normal Pokéball. He couldn’t help wondering if he should really have tricked that Quilava out of the girl. He had never even had the need to send it out. Which he was deep down thankful for, because he wasn’t sure Quilava would like him too much. After all, he had broken the Agreement by taking a Pokémon from its trainer without consulting it first – admittedly the girl hadn’t had anything against that either, but he didn’t want to risk getting scorched by Quilava’s Ember.

Ah, well, now he had two clones. Maybe he’d never have to send it out of its ball.

He smiled at the Clone Ball and attached it back to his belt, focusing on the Ouen map again.

-------

“What are you doing?” Mark yelled while trying to catch up with May.

“Rick’s brother!” she hissed. “The guy with my Quilava! Taylor, you said he was called.”

“What about him?” asked Mark confusedly.

“I saw him, of course,” said May like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “He sat down on that bench over there.”

She pointed. At the end of the street they were running along, a boy with long, red hair was sitting on a bench, bent over something in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Mark asked, puzzled, as May crouched down behind some bushes near the sidewalk.

“I’m going to get Quilava back, of course.”

Mark watched in disbelief as she crawled towards the bench like a predator to its prey. Very slowly, she extended her hand, grabbed one of the Pokéballs beside the boy and then quickly withdrew it. Mark saw her crawling back towards him.

“Whoa,” he said blankly. “You just went and stole it?”

“It’s not stealing if she’s mine,” she said coldly.

“Well, technically,” Mark commented, “you traded her away.”

“But he tricked me into it,” she argued. “And Quilava never agreed.”

“You weren’t exactly thinking about that when you traded, were you?”

May’s eyes flashed. “She’s my Quilava! Professor Elm gave her to me! And I never agreed to trade her for some lousy level five lizard!”

Mark felt like he had just received an Ice Punch, but just glared at her and breathed very fast.

“Well, aren’t we going to battle Mitch?” May said, still in an angry voice. “Don’t know about you, but I’m going to get myself some Antidotes in case my Pokémon get poisoned.”

Mark reluctantly followed her as she walked firmly towards the Pokémon Market across the street.

-------

Taylor folded his Pokédex back together and clipped it to his belt, looking to his side. He started when he saw only his two Clone Balls there. He picked them up and attached them to his belt as he examined the sidewalk to see if his Poké Ball was there. Seeing no traces of it, he looked up. Just a short distance away, he saw a familiar girl and a boy he had never seen before with her.

He didn’t know exactly what had happened, but immediately got a pretty good idea of it. He watched the two enter the Pokémon Market, and an idea formed in his head.

He grabbed his new Pokémon’s Clone Ball and smirked.

-------

Mark and May, after stocking up on things at the market, walked outside to be greeted by a well-known figure: one of the Officer Jennies. She wore a police uniform, had long, teal hair, and folded her arms strictly. Beside her, slightly behind, stood Taylor.

“This boy tells me you stole one of his Pokéballs,” she said accusingly.

May turned beet red. Then suddenly she roared “THAT QUILAVA IS MINE!” as she jumped at Taylor in what was clearly an attempt to at least punch him if not bite him too. Officer Jenny grabbed her jacket and held her back.

“Quite the temper you’ve got,” she said shortly.

May tried to break loose, but Officer Jenny had a firm grip on her. She glared murderously at Taylor.

“Also,” the policewoman added thoughtfully, turning to Taylor, “Quilava? Didn’t you say it was a Charmeleon?”

“Yeah,” said Taylor, slightly nervously. Mark wondered why he hadn’t just said it was a Quilava; this way his story sounded a lot more suspicious.

“Come with me, kids,” said Officer Jenny, walking towards the police station next door and dragging Mark and May with her. Mark felt a strong burst of anger flare up in his heart; what had he done?

“I didn’t do anything!” he shouted.

“Congratulations, you’ve just used the oldest excuse known to mankind,” said the officer sarcastically as they entered.

Inside, it was rather dark. A desk with a lit lamp on it was on the other end of the room, covered in papers. Mark would’ve looked around better, but Officer Jenny pushed him inside. Then she picked up a small device from the desk.

“Your trainer license?”

“Trainer license?” Mark was stunned – of course he should know that a trainer had to get a trainer license. What had he been thinking when he set off? He had been training illegally for a while, and magically gotten away with it. One of the first thoughts that shot into his head was that the Pokémon League’s trainer identification system had to be very flawed, since he hadn’t even been making an effort to hide it.

“I… I don’t have one,” he stammered.

“No license?” Jenny raised her eyebrows. “Your eye, please,” she said to Mark. He stepped up to her and she held the tool she had picked up earlier up to his eye to scan his iris.

“Mmmh,” she said. “Never done anything before, though… so apparently you didn’t get it revoked… but that doesn’t change that you’re still training without a license. You’ll get away with a warning this time, but I suggest you go get a license before you get in more trouble – provided, of course, that you did not steal the boy’s Pokémon.”

Officer Jenny turned to May, who was holding forward a trainer card. “Valid,” said Jenny after surveying it for a few seconds. “May I have your eye, please?”

May allowed her eye to be scanned too, although she clearly hated it. A loud beep was heard.

“You, on the other hand…” said Officer Jenny slowly, “you’re on record.”

“Surprise,” May sneered sarcastically. Mark’s heart suddenly realized it had some catching up to do and started pumping like crazy.

“Hmm… ‘assaulting a police officer’… ‘refusing to cooperate with the police’… ‘breaking and entering’…” Officer Jenny read from the device. Mark felt sick.

The policewoman laid the tool back on the desk. “When was that?”

“You,” said May with disgust, “you think a nine-year-old can’t have anything to say that you don’t know. You think that a nine-year-old’s accusations must be based on personal grudges. You think little girls with bad tempers can’t possibly be right. Something is stolen from a girl and she knows who did it, but you think her knowledge sounds too absurd and claim that the real thief will never be found. She goes on her own and takes back what is hers, and all you do is putting it on some bloody record as ‘breaking and entering’.”

She spat this all out very fast, and Mark didn’t really get the whole thing, but from how it looked, somebody had stolen something from May when she was nine, she knew who it was but the police didn’t believe her and just forgot about it, so she took matters into her own hands, broke in and stole what had been stolen from her again. The question was mainly whether the thing that had been ‘stolen’ from her had been about as ‘stolen’ as Quilava.

“Interesting,” said Officer Jenny simply. “Tell me… did you steal the boy’s Charmeleon?”

“No,” May spat.

“Well, we’ll see about that,” the policewoman said. “Your Pokémon, please.”

May handed her Pokéballs to Officer Jenny.

“You too,” Jenny insisted, turning to Mark. He gave his Pokéballs to her too. She took a Pokédex from her belt and scanned all the Pokéballs, picking out two of them afterwards.

“Okay, this one contains a Quilava and this one contains a Charmeleon. Which of them was stolen?”

“Charmeleon,” Taylor said firmly.

May opened her mouth, but Officer Jenny stopped her before she said anything.

“Of course, to make sure we’re not making a terrible mistake here, we’ll do a check of original trainers and ID numbers on them both.”

Mark suddenly realized what Taylor was up to saying that Charmeleon had been stolen – while a simple ID check on Quilava would prove her as May’s, Charmeleon had originally been given to Taylor and never been registered as traded. Unofficial trades were essentially illegal, partly because that way there was no way to prove the change of trainers, as the trade would never be on official records.

“No!” he blurted out.

“No? Why not? You obviously have something to hide,” said Officer Jenny suspiciously. She pressed a button on the Pokédex.

“Quilava is registered to you, it seems,” said Officer Jenny to May, giving her the Pokéballs back. “But Charmeleon…” Jenny scanned the Pokéball and read off the Pokédex.

“It’s registered to the boy who reported the theft, Taylor.”

Mark looked at May. She was staring expressionlessly at him, clearly understanding who Charmeleon was now.

Officer Jenny put Charmeleon’s Pokéball on the desk.

-------

“You can have it in a minute,” Jenny said to Taylor. “But first, I need to record that…”

Taylor couldn’t help feeling slightly guilty as she said that. If he was getting that Charmeleon, which the boy had thankfully evolved, however he originally got it, he didn’t want to get him in any trouble, because that boy certainly hadn’t done anything to him.

But luckily, he was prepared for that.

Speed her up a little bit, he thought, looking out the window at where his new Pokémon was waiting for orders, Mewtwo².

-------

Suddenly, Officer Jenny stopped in her tracks. Her eyes went all funny, reminding Mark somewhat of (he shivered a bit) Rick’s Legendary clones.

“Here,” she said, taking the Pokéball off the table. Mark stared miserably at it as she handed it to Taylor.

“Please,” he pleaded, “you’re making a mistake! That boy, Taylor, he…”

But Jenny ignored him completely. She almost mechanically shoved Mark and May outside, closing the door. There was nothing more he could do.

They walked silently back towards the gym. May had taken a funny interest in her fingernails as she held them close to her face and examined them. Mark just felt horrible.

“Taylor has Charmeleon,” he muttered miserably, not exactly expecting an answer.

“No,” said May after a moment of silence. “He has Quilava. I switched the Pokéballs on the desk.” She opened her palm to reveal a minimized Pokéball she appeared to have been clutching since she took it.

“You going to take him back or something?” Mark said in a horribly shaky voice.

“No,” she answered, handing the Pokéball to him while staring in the other direction. “I… threw him away. He’s not mine.”

Mark took the Pokéball, covered in sweat from May’s hand, and attached it back to his own belt. He knew both of them were thinking about the same thing: Officer Jenny’s eyes.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Another glaring failure to treat Pokémon like people: apparently no part of the police's process when a Pokémon has been stolen involves sending the Pokémon out of the ball to get their own account of the situation. Instead they go through contortions to check the original trainers off their balls without sending them out. This time that was mainly for plot purposes, but man, is it odd.

The illegal training subplot is one of the silliest things in the fic. Somehow, Mark just doesn't know that you need to have a license to train Pokémon? This was the entire reason I did the whole bit about Mark wanting to get a book about Pokémon training in chapter two - he never did get one, so he never learned about these basics. But he has lived in the Pokémon world his entire life; you can't just not be aware that trainer licenses are a thing, any more than a person in most countries in reality could just be unaware that you need a driver's license to drive. And then, after I go through all these contortions to make sure Mark is training illegally, Officer Jenny... literally just lets him go with a "Well you really should get a license", and makes no attempt whatsoever to ensure he actually gets one. Amazing.

 

[Dragonfree]

Chapter fifteen! A bit late because even after finishing the art it took me a bit to find the time to read through and edit.

Chapter 15: Darkness and Poison​

​

When the two kids reached the Scorpio City Gym again, it was locked. Gyms were only supposed to be locked when the leader was away or if some kind of task was to be completed to collect the key, so Mitch had apparently left while they were at the police station.

“Why did he just leave?” May hissed, clearly still upset about the whole encounter with Taylor and Officer Jenny.

“Really, May, nothing says he can’t leave whenever he wants,” Mark said, rolling his eyes.

“Well, I’m going to find him,” she said determinedly. “I’m not going to wait for him for ages.”

“Fine,” said Mark, shrugging. “You’ll just bring him back here, right? Then I don’t need to come.” He was getting slightly skeptical about hanging around with her too much, which was why he would rather wait.

“Whatever,” said May, turning around and storming downtown.

Mark looked after her, not sure what he would do while she was finding Mitch. He didn’t have to wonder for long.

“Fancy a battle?”

He quickly turned around to find a very creepy-looking boy, most likely around thirteen or fourteen. He was wrapped in a wavy, pitch-black cloak, matching his long black hair. Contrasting with that, his face was rather pale.

“So?” asked the boy with a smile. Mark assumed from his expression that he was just a normal Pokémon trainer, even if he dressed strangely.

“Yeah, sure,” Mark said, shrugging. “It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.”

“Great,” the boy purred. “Let’s make it a one-on-one. I want to test out the Pokémon I just caught.”

He picked a Pokéball from somewhere under his cloak. Mark noticed that it was a black and yellow Ultra Ball, the most powerful ball apart from Master Balls. The boy held it in his hand and looked affectionately at it as if in a trance.

“Challenger sends out first except for gym battles,” Mark pointed out.

“Sure,” said the boy, looking back at him. “Precious, I choose you!”

He hurled the ball forward. Mark expected something big, high-leveled and ferocious – after all, the boy had wasted an Ultra Ball on it – but he was surprised to see that the red orb of energy started taking shape into something tiny. He watched curiously as it faded to reveal an extremely cute, fluffy black kitten.

The boy looked at it, grinning from ear to ear with an expression of fascination. “Isn’t it lovely?” he asked.

“Mewww,” the kitten meowed, and then added in something like a cough, “tark!”

The Pokémon looked adorably at Mark with its big, yellow eyes. He couldn’t help smiling. It was probably that boy’s favorite Pokémon, since he had wasted an Ultra Ball to catch it, named it ‘Precious’ and was now looking at it with the confidence of somebody whose Magikarp had just evolved.

“Go, umm…” Mark thought for a second. Sandshrew needed some training, and he couldn’t help not feeling like hurting ‘Precious’ too much. “Err, Sandshrew.”

As the yellow armadillo materialized a short distance from the kitten, the boy grinned even more.

“Never seen Mutark before, I take it?” he asked.

“No,” said Mark, confused.

“Well, that was to be expected… Mutark is rare,” the boy muttered, more to himself than Mark. Then his grin still widened. “Great. Then you’ll be surprised.”

Mark didn’t like the way he said that, but it was too late now.

“Um, Sandshrew, try a Scratch.” He considered using Earthquake, but in case the boy was just overestimating Mutark’s strength, he didn’t want to hurt it too much.

Sandshrew moved in to scratch the kitten. It didn’t move or make any attempts to dodge or retaliate; neither did its trainer command it to. It just let out a meow when Sandshrew’s sharp claws sliced up the skin on its side, and as the armadillo backed away, the kitten twisted its body around and started licking the scratches miserably. For a second, Mark felt sorry for it. Then he watched in amazement as it seemed to stiffen up; its eyes took an eerie, red glow, and it grew to double its original size in a few seconds. It wasn’t as cute anymore; the noticeably lengthened claws and fangs probably did it.

Sandshrew was clearly startled too, as he curled up into a tight ball. The Mutark jumped at him and started rolling him around like a ball of yarn.

Then the incredible happened. The scaled sphere started emitting a bright white glow. Mutark backed away in surprise as the ball grew and got spiky. The glow faded, and the newly evolved pangolin-like Pokémon uncurled. Sandslash attempted with little success to see the brown, pointed scales on his back that formed into his spikes.

“Oh, I never asked you if you wanted to evolve!” Mark realized suddenly.

“I don’t mind,” Sandslash replied. “I quite like this form, actually…” he added thoughtfully, examining his new, much more powerful claws.

And he did something that Mark had never thought he’d see him doing: he faced the Mutark and got his claws ready in attacking position.

“Interesting…” the creepy trainer said softly.

Precious, however, didn’t like this turn of events, and started hissing at Sandslash. He retaliated by slashing the Mutark with his huge claws. For a moment, the cat Pokémon backed away and licked the cuts slightly once at a safe distance; then it stiffened again and grew, and now reminded Mark more of a black Fangcat than the little kitten it had been just a minute ago.

Mark saw that obviously, this change had something to do with Mutark licking its wounds.

“Sandslash, try…” he began, but was cut short.

“Precious, Bite,” the boy ordered. The Mutark leapt with amazing agility straight towards Sandslash’s white underbelly, managed to push him onto his back, and as he was sprawled helplessly on the ground, the cat Pokémon sank its fangs into his body. He screeched in pain.

“I forfeit,” said Mark quickly, recalling Sandslash to his Pokéball in a beam of red light.

“Nice Pokémon,” said a familiar voice. Mark turned around to see that May had returned.

“Did you find Mitch?” he asked.

“Yeah, he was just getting himself something to eat,” she said, blushing slightly. “I was in a bad mood earlier…”

Mark turned back to Precious and the boy. The Mutark was now starting to shrink rapidly, back to the cute kitten that it was at the beginning of the battle.

“I like that Pokémon,” May said, directing her words at the Mutark’s trainer, who was now recalling it. “What is it called?”

“Mutark,” the boy replied. “It’s a favorite of mine too.”

“Native to Ouen, I assume?” May asked.

“Yeah,” said the boy. “And really rare too,” he added with a hint of pride. “The only way to lure it out of hiding is to have a Dark Pokémon.”

“You’ve got more Dark types?” May asked, clearly very interested.

“Yep,” the boy said proudly. “They’re my specialty. I only train Dark Pokémon.”

That explains the cape, Mark thought.

“Will a Tyranitar work?” May asked.

“Should do,” said the trainer.

“Thanks. I’m May; you?” she asked.

“Victor,” said the boy, smiling. “I’m glad I could help.”

Mark couldn’t help thinking in horror to the moment he’d have to battle May with one of those things. With his luck, his only Pokémon left would probably be Scyther or something.

“Hey, let’s go to the gym, shall we?” May said to Mark.

Mark shrugged and followed her towards the gym.

“Bye,” May called to Victor. “Can I battle Mitch first?” she then asked Mark.

“Whatever,” he just replied. “Oh – I need to get Sandslash to a Pokémon Center.” He looked anxiously in the direction of the Pokémon Center a short distance away.

“You don’t mind me starting my battle while you’re there, do you?” May just asked.

“No,” Mark answered. “See you in a minute, then.”

They parted, and Mark ran to the Pokémon Center. It was smaller than those of Cleanwater and Alumine; the interior was also rather simple, with a crimson tiled floor and two benches along the walls. A few people sat there; he noticed the worried expressions on two young girls’ faces. They had probably had a nasty encounter with some Scorplack.

He went straight to the desk and handed Sandslash’s Pokéball to Nurse Joy. She bowed without words and went into the back room to examine him. It wasn’t long until she returned.

“I’ll have to keep him for the rest of today,” she explained. “But don’t worry; he will be fine.”

He wandered into the gym and took the left corridor, the one with the sign that said TO THE BATTLE ARENA. He turned to the right and entered a large room. May, who was at his end, was in a sticky situation, to say the least.

Her yellow rodent was tangled in a net of silky, white thread. A huge, orange, spider-like Pokémon with black markings and six legs striped in vibrant yellow and violet clicked its pincers a small distance away, watching the helpless Pikachu in the web.

“Ariados, Poison Sting,” said Mitch calmly.

“Thunderbolt!” May hissed. Pikachu started charging voltage in his cheeks as Mitch’s spider Pokémon leapt into the air, turned its abdomen towards Pikachu and fired a small dart from the stinger on its backside. It hit the mouse Pokémon, and he let off a bolt of lightning in retaliation. Ariados ran to the side with surprising agility, dodging it.

May looked at Pikachu. His cheeks were sparkling weakly.

“Poisoned,” she muttered and plucked a Pokéball from her necklace. “Pikachu, return.”

She paused, seemingly in doubt. Finally, she took one of the Pokéballs and maximized it.

“Go, Larvitar!”

The small green dinosaur May had caught at the Lake of Purity materialized as she threw the ball into the arena. Larvitar looked determinedly at the spider, muttering his name.

“Rock Slide!” May shouted, clenching her fist. The little dinosaur’s horn glowed bright white, and then rocks started firing from it into the air. They levitated there for a second.

“Larvii!” The rocks pummeled down towards Ariados and crushed the spider under them.

“Return, Ariados,” Mitch said expressionlessly, picking a new Pokéball from his belt. “Venomoth, you have my trust.”

He hurled forward a Pokéball, which exploded into a flash of red light that formed into a lavender moth-like creature with big, shiny blue eyes on its spiked head.

“Larvitar, another Rock Slide,” May said icily. Her Pokémon obeyed, firing another array of rocks into the air and hurling them at the moth. It narrowly avoided them.

“Sleep Powder,” said Mitch slowly.

“No!” May exclaimed as the Venomoth flapped its wings eagerly, releasing a cloud of golden dust. Larvitar’s eyelids started dropping as the powder engulfed him.

“Don’t fall asleep!” May hissed through gritted teeth. Larvitar’s eyes snapped open, but dropped again before he lolled to the side, fast asleep.

“Darn it,” May said loudly, kicking the air.

“Venomoth, Psybeam,” said Mitch.

Venomoth’s eyes glowed as the Pokémon fired a multicolored beam of energy towards the little dinosaur. Being asleep, he just rolled slightly to the side.

“Now, Larvitar, just WAKE UP!” May hissed, but her Pokémon just lay there and slept.

“Another Psybeam,” Mitch ordered, and his moth Pokémon’s eyes took on a glow again before firing another beam at Larvitar.

“Return,” May muttered, recalling her sleeping Pokémon and taking another Pokéball from her necklace. “Go, Skarmory.”

Mitch nodded with a faint smile. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Damn right,” she replied, giving Venomoth a glare. “Skarmory, Drill Peck it into oblivion!”

The steel vulture gave a metallic cry in response, took off and darted towards the moth Pokémon, spinning at high speed. As he hit the Venomoth, it was thrown into the wall, but still with plenty of energy left.

“Sleep Powder,” Mitch said. The moth released a cloud of golden powder again.

“Whirlwind,” May spat. Skarmory started flapping his wings at high speed, producing a gust of strong wind which blew the powder back at Venomoth. The moth, having no eyelids, simply got a strange dazed look in its eyes as its wings flapped slower and slower. Finally, it started falling.

“And now, Drill Peck it while it’s defenseless,” May ordered. Her Skarmory dove down and nailed the sleeping moth Pokémon against the wall with his beak.

“Return,” Mitch said slowly, recalling his Venomoth. “Beedrill, I choose you.”

Out of the ball he threw came a bee-like Pokémon with two cone-shaped stingers on its forearms. It tilted its head, staring at Skarmory with red compound eyes.

“Drill Peck,” said May, smirking.

“Agility,” Mitch countered. As Skarmory dove down to attack Beedrill, it zoomed out of the way. It then started circling the arena at amazing speed that the metallic bird could never keep up with.

“All right then…” May said thoughtfully, “try flying up somewhere in the middle of the arena.”

Skarmory swooped upwards, and hovered there high above the bee Pokémon.

“And now…”

“Beedrill, Fury Attack.”

“SWIFT!”

As Beedrill started buzzing up towards Skarmory, he released a flurry of metallic feathers that bombarded the bee on the way up. It was thrown downwards, being very light and delicate, and got pinned down by feathers.

“Beedrill, return,” said Mitch as May also recalled her Skarmory. Handing May a small object, he turned to Mark.

“Your turn.”

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Hope you enjoy another edgy cat fakemon courtesy of my twelve-year-old self. I made at least one other evolutionary family of those that never made it into the fic, too; I was a lot less subtle than I thought I was about my morbid interests. Mutark was created because Pokémon abilities had just been introduced in the third-generation games, and of course the first thing I thought of doing with that was this - a Pokémon that grows when it tastes its own blood, represented in a hypothetical game by raising all its stats when it's hit with a contact move. (One of the first abilities revealed in teasers for Ruby and Sapphire was Rough Skin, which also activates on contact.)

Mitch insists in this chapter that May knows what she's doing, when what I've actually been showing in the battle up to that point is her strategy being "recall Pikachu as soon as he's poisoned, in the Poison-type gym, that she supposedly specifically bought Antidotes for last chapter", "spam Rock Slide and then rage ineffectually when Larvitar is put to sleep" and then "finally send out a Pokémon with a type advantage, as her third and last pick". I frequently did a terrible job of making May convincingly good at battling. Interestingly, in the previous revisions, Mitch was instead enumerating her mistakes throughout the fight, it pissed her off, and then she declared sending out Skarmory was a good decision - still pretty silly of her, but a much better and more interesting character dynamic than Mitch praising her for nothing. A fail all-around for fourteen-year-old me.

 

[Dragonfree]

Time for chapter sixteen! In which Mark has a gym battle and there is very kludgy foreshadowing.

Chapter 16: The Third Badge​

​

Mark walked nervously forward as May pocketed her badge and stepped out of the way.

“This battle will be a three on three,” Mitch said calmly, inserting his Pokéballs into a Pocket Healer. Mark noticed that Mitch had a fourth Pokéball at his belt, too. “No healing items of any sort may be used on a Pokémon while the battle is going on. A recalled Pokémon counts as a fainted Pokémon.”

Mark nodded.

“Very well,” said Mitch. “Let us begin.”

He took a ball and threw it. The light from the sphere materialized into the yellow bee that Mitch had used earlier.

“I choose…” Mark’s hand fiddled with his Pokéballs. Charmeleon would definitely be the best choice, but then again, Mitch had a Pokémon that Mark hadn’t seen yet, which might be powerful. The best trainers always said that you should leave your strongest Pokémon until last – provided that it wasn't much better suited to some earlier opponent.

Mark paused. Earlier Mitch’s Pokémon had all been Bug/Poison types; this meant that unless it was just a freaky coincidence, he probably only trained Pokémon that had both types.

He took out a Pokéball. Beedrill weren’t the strongest Pokémon around, and Eevee could probably do with a bit more battling experience.

“Eevee, you can do this!”

Mitch nodded as the small furred creature came out of the ball. “Interesting,” he simply said.

“Eevee, try a Quick Attack!” Mark said determinedly, hoping that Eevee could bring himself to attack the Beedrill. He did; he hesitated for a second, but then leapt into the air and tackled the bee Pokémon at high speed. It was knocked backwards, but retaliated by swooping down and jabbing Eevee with the stingers on its forelegs. He staggered backwards, then blinked and faced Beedrill again with a determined “Vi!” His battling instincts were clearly starting to show.

“Twineedle,” said Mitch simply, and Beedrill dove down again, its foreleg stingers raised. Eevee seemed to freeze for a moment, but then jumped out of the way, narrowly dodging it. Beedrill swooped upwards again to avoid getting hit.

“Eevee, use… um, maybe Tail Whip?” Mark suggested, realizing immediately afterwards that he had forgotten to sound like he knew what he was doing. Eevee didn’t appear to mind; he crouched down low with his tail in the air, and started wagging it back and forth. While Beedrill’s glossy red compound eyes watched Eevee’s tail tip, he jumped up and tackled the bee again in mid-air.

“Poison Sting,” Mitch commanded, just as Beedrill was thrown backwards. The bee instantly obeyed, lunging at Eevee as he landed on the gym floor and stinging him with its right foreleg. He shuddered, but countered by kicking some sand that seemed to materialize under his feet into the bee Pokémon’s eyes. It didn’t appear to be much more than a distraction, though; a creature without eyelids had to be designed not to be bothered by sand in its eyes.

“Veeee,” Eevee moaned with a dazed look in his eyes. Mark realized that the Beedrill’s poison was starting to affect him.

“Don’t give up, just get one more hit in with Quick Attack,” he said desperately. Eevee used his last strength to leap up and hit the bee once again. It was thrown into the wall, where it fell down, unconscious.

“Good job, Eevee!” Mark cheered, recalling his weak but proud Pokémon. “What’s next?”

With a faint smile, Mitch took out another Pokéball. He threw it without words into the middle of the arena, where it released his Venomoth. It flapped its wings slowly, watching Mark with its creepy, staring eyes.

He thought about what to send out. He still wanted to save Charmeleon for last. The best trainers never recommended training a Pokémon to become much stronger than the rest of the team, so he would rather not use Scyther. That left Gyarados. He hadn’t gotten any training in the desert anyway, so he was a few levels behind.

“Go, Gyarados!” Mark announced, throwing the Pokéball towards the pool on the left side of the arena. The sea monster materialized from the red light, apparently not feeling up for his normal roar since he just growled slightly.

“Stun Spore, Venomoth,” Mitch said. The moth flew over Gyarados and started flapping its wings, releasing a cloud of golden spores.

“Dive, quickly!” Mark blurted out. Gyarados disappeared beneath the surface of the water and was not affected by the powder.

“Psybeam, Venomoth,” Mitch said as Gyarados came up again. His Pokémon fired a rainbow-colored beam of psychic energy into the monster’s face. He retaliated by grabbing the moth in his mouth with a quick movement.

“Psychic and then Stun Spore,” Mitch ordered his Pokémon. Venomoth, still locked between Gyarados’s jaws, glowed bright blue, and as the eerie aura engulfed Gyarados, he was forced to open his mouth and release the captive. As soon as Venomoth was free, it flapped its wings rapidly to send another flurry of sparkling dust at the sea monster. Some of it escaped in through his nostrils, and his long segmented body immediately stiffened, allowing more of the paralyzing powder to enter his bloodstream as he inhaled it.

“Gyarados, do something!” Mark cried desperately, having no idea what to do. With difficulty, the immobile monster closed his eyes and Mark saw him starting to get grayer.

“Is that…” he gasped, just as Gyarados’s eyes snapped open and fired the same type of bright red beam as he had used on Suicune. This time, an even more amazing effect of it was revealed; Venomoth fluttered out of the way, but the beam followed of its own accord and blasted the purple moth Pokémon across the arena. On the way, ice seemed to start layering around its wings, and it fell to the ground with a clatter, clearly frozen.

“Interesting…” Mitch muttered. “Very… very interesting.”

The Pokéball’s beam zapped Venomoth into the ball again. Mark looked at Gyarados; he was still rather grayish and appeared very exhausted, not to mention his paralysis. He would hardly last very long like that.

“Return,” Mark said, recalling the sea monster back into his Pokéball too. “Guess it’s down to our last Pokémon, then.”

“Indeed,” Mitch agreed, smiling. He took out a Pokéball; it was the one he had not used against May.

Mark hesitated a bit, but took Charmeleon’s Pokéball, silently hoping that his assumption that Mitch’s Pokémon were all bugs was correct.

“Go!” Mark shouted. Both of them threw the Pokéballs at the same time; Mark’s became the red lizard, and Mitch’s formed into something smaller, with four sets of limbs, a tail and two pincers.

“A Scorplack?” Mark asked, staring at the shiny black scorpion. “The one that… didn’t kill you?”

“Of course,” said Mitch, smiling. “I told you I caught him.”

“Is he your strongest?” Mark asked nervously.

Mitch nodded. “Is that your starter?” he questioned back.

“Yes,” Mark replied with a smile. “Flamethrower!” he then called to his Pokémon.

Charmeleon spewed a bright spiral of flames from his mouth, but Scorplack darted to the right with surprising agility and avoided it.

“Watch out for the stinger!” Mark told Charmeleon quickly. “Try another Flamethrower!”

The lizard blasted out some more flames, which Scorplack also avoided. The scorpion then swung his tail at Charmeleon, who narrowly managed to jump out of the way.

“Keep at a safe distance, Charmeleon,” Mark said desperately. “Don’t let it come near you, and try to attack it with fire.”

“Mega Sting,” Mitch commanded. “And dodge the Flamethrowers.”

Scorplack shot towards Charmeleon with his stinger raised. The lizard released more flames out of his mouth, but the scorpion leapt to the side.

“Darn dodger!” Mark gritted his teeth. Charmeleon growled in agreement as he ran out of the scorpion’s reach, slowing him down with a tongue of fire that he sent over his shoulder. Scorplack evaded it like the previous ones and then unexpectedly sped up, reached Charmeleon’s side and swung his tail at the lizard. The tail end stung into his arm and injected poison into his blood. He roared in pain, spitting out a ball of fire. It hit the floor just by Scorplack’s legs; he jumped up and ran to the side, Charmeleon following. Mark was getting worried; Charmeleon would faint any minute now, when the poison came into effect.

But he didn’t.

Mark watched the lizard shoot another Flamethrower and Scorplack running frantically to the side to avoid it. For a moment he expected Charmeleon to fall unconscious in a matter of seconds. Then, when he still didn’t, something hit him.

“Charmeleon!” he shouted. “You’ve been stung before; you must’ve gained an immunity to the poison! Move in for a physical assault; you don’t need to fear being stung!”

Hearing this, the lizard leapt forward, aiming for the scorpion. Not expecting it, Scorplack made an attempt to defend himself with his pincer, but Charmeleon came down on top of him and released a powerful blast of flames directly down at the scorpion’s head. Scorplack let out a screech, but then fell silent. Charmeleon turned to Mark and sent him a salute, grinning. Mark smiled back.

“Return,” Mitch said slowly to his Pokémon, holding forward the Pokéball. “Nice thinking there at the end.”

Mark just blushed, his smile widening as Charmeleon returned to the Pokéball in a beam of red.

“I confer upon you the Venom Badge,” Mitch announced, holding up a small object. Mark walked up to him and took it. It resembled a silver coin like the other badges; however, this one had small circular ripples in its smooth surface.

“Uh, thanks,” Mark said awkwardly. “Er, yeah. Guess I’m off, then.”

“Good luck,” said Mitch and smiled his faint smile. Mark nodded and ran out of the Gym; he was feeling all jumpy like he couldn’t just walk.

-------

Victor looked after Mark as he ran east out of the town.

“Do you know him? And the girl who was with him when he came to town?”

Victor jumped. It was Mitch; he had seemingly been standing by his side without him noticing.

“Sort of, yeah,” he replied. “I battled him, and the girl came afterwards. Why?”

Mitch nodded sadly. “I just have this feeling something bad will happen to them.”

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Love how there was this whole trip to buy Antidotes and now it turns out you can't use items in battle anyway. It'd be one thing if the fic actually had May mistakenly think you could use items only to have to learn otherwise, but then the story would mention that somehow. Really what happened here is just I wasn't thinking very hard about anything.

Can't believe how sueish I kept making Gyarados in this revision, man. Not only does he have special coloration and history and a special ability to speak human and a special beam attack, the special beam attack conveniently freezes this Venomoth just when Gyarados isn't doing great against it. This isn't even the only time this happens.

There's a bit in the battle where Mark considers which Pokémon to send out but inexplicably skips Dratini before going "That left Gyarados." I'm pretty sure I just forgot Dratini existed there. Amazing.

Anyway, some more blatant kludgy foreshadowing there at the end with the world's most random POV change. Such plot, many chapter.

 

[Dragonfree]

Chapter seventeen! Featuring the first of my elemental towns, Sharpedo brutality, and a jarring comedy routine.

Chapter 17: The Shark and the Serpent​

​

When Mark exited the gym, he noticed that May wasn’t there. Even as he continued down the road, he saw no traces of her. He assumed she had continued to Aquarium City.

Aquarium City was probably the town that Mark had looked forward to seeing the most when he’d started his journey. It was the first and only underwater city in the Pokémon world. Covered in a gigantic glass dome, the city’s oxygen came from plants specifically arranged to keep a healthy balance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the air. It was first and foremost a tourist attraction; it was generally considered a dodgy place to live, mainly because the thought of living underwater with only a glass dome to protect oneself from the Gyarados and Sharpedo outside and one’s life depending on some calculations about the oxygen percentage didn’t appeal to many people. Nonetheless, the tourists loved it – especially because it had an official Pokémon gym.

“Hey, wait!”

Mark turned around. The Mutark guy, Victor, was running after him.

“What?”

Victor looked around. “Where’s May? The girl?”

“She went on to Aquarium City,” Mark answered. “Why?”

“Oh,” said Victor, scratching his head. “Er… you know Mitch?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied, puzzled.

“Do you know what they say about him?”

Mark shook his head.

“Well – according to the rumours, he’s a psychic of sorts. They say he can foresee deaths and stuff, and, uh… are you going to join up with May again?”

“Huh?” asked Mark, not sure what Victor was getting at.

“I mean, will you meet her sometime? I need to… er, give her some tips on catching a Mutark.” His gaze darted to the sides; he was obviously a very bad liar, but Mark wasn’t the type to point that out so he ignored it.

“Well, I’ll probably meet her at Aquarium City, but to be honest I don’t know if she’s going to come with me from there or anything.”

“Right,” said Victor. “Hey, will you be attending the Pokémon Festival?”

“What festival?” Mark asked curiously.

“The festival in Green Town – the one they have every year based around Chaletwo’s arrival.”

“Oh – I didn’t know they had a festival,” Mark replied, blushing slightly. He felt stupid.

“Well, I’m going, of course – I want to see Chaletwo, he’s a Dark type – and she is likely to, since she doesn’t seem the type to miss it, so will you?”

“Of course,” Mark answered brightly. “I love Legendary Pokémon; I’d never miss that in my life.”

“We’ll meet there, then,” Victor said, holding out his hand.

“Sure,” Mark replied, shaking it.

“Good. Bye, then,” said Victor, smiling as he turned back towards Scorpio City. “See you.”

Mark had slightly disliked him earlier, but he seemed like a nice guy after all. Now Mark knew about the Pokémon festival. He looked forward to it, especially getting to witness Chaletwo’s appearance. Of course, there were probably fun tournaments and such, too…

-------

It wasn’t a long way to Merville, a tiny village near the seaside. Old-fashioned houses were spread irregularly around. A lot of them seemed deserted, giving the village a glum atmosphere. A dirty shop stood just by the harbor, looking just as deserted as the empty houses, but nonetheless had a big OPEN sign in the window. Above the door, it said “Underwater Equipment”.

Mark walked up to the wooden door and grabbed the doorknob. It was open. He stepped carefully inside.

A bearded, middle-aged man leaned onto the counter, looking asleep. As soon as Mark came in, however, he sprang up and was instantly by his side.

“A customer! What can I do for you? Headed to Aquarium City, are you? Then you’re in the right place! We’ve got everything, all 100% organic!”

“Er,” Mark just stammered.

“You’ll need an H2Oxy 3000; these things allow you to breathe underwater,” the clerk said, reaching for a small mask-like object on a shelf. “You put it on like this,” he put it on to cover his nose and mouth, then quickly took it off again as it appeared to prevent him from breathing, “and it will work oxygen out of the water. Clever, isn’t it?”

“Are you sure it... works?” asked Mark skeptically. The shopkeeper shrugged. “It should work.”

He stuffed it into Mark’s arms and started searching for something else on the shelf.

“Let’s see... you’ll need an Aqua compass. It always points at Aquarium City.” He showed Mark a compass which, unless Mark was very much mistaken, pointed straight west, back to Scorpio City. The guy seemed to realize that too, since he shrugged again and threw it into the garbage. “Well, this spray will make you completely water-repellant.” He sprayed something that smelled like cardboard all over Mark. He coughed.

“Then there’s the Sharpedo-ward,” the shopkeeper continued eagerly, taking out a bottle containing a black, suspicious-looking liquid. “If you open it in the water, it will send any Sharpedo swimming! And there’s a special rock here to be able to sink easier. I’m sure you’ll visit again, buddy? I’m always ready at hand! Now, in total, this will be, uh…” He counted on his fingers. “…9,999 Pokédollars.”

“What?” Mark asked, nonetheless finding the guy a bit funny. “I’m not going to buy it all… I think I’ll just go with the H2Oxy-thing, and, um, do you have a Dive HM?” He put the rock and the Sharpedo-ward down.

“You already used the water-repelling spray!” the man complained.

“That’s stupid, I didn’t ask for it,” Mark argued. The shopkeeper sighed.

“All right then.” He handed Mark a CD case. “Your ID number?”

Mark reached for his Pokédex. “0439522166,” he read from the screen. The shopkeeper entered it into the computer and mumbled: “You’re not getting any for the way back.” Mark ignored him and walked out of the shop.

Outside, he noticed a sailor who hadn’t been there before. He was a tall, muscular man and was just standing there looking blankly into the air. When Mark came out, the sailor turned around.

“Hey. Kid. Battle?”

Mark shrugged. “If you want.”

“One on one,” said the sailor and threw a Pokéball into the harbor. The red energy materialized into a blue shark-like Pokémon; it had no tail, but a yellow star shape on its head.

“Sharr,” it growled.

Mark decided that Gyarados would most likely be his best bet for this; he had also not gotten to battle much lately, because pretty much only gym arenas had pools for non-amphibious Water Pokémon.

“Go, Gyarados!” The sea monster came out of the Pokéball into the calm sea. He dove into it and seemed to enjoy the water judging from the low, purr-like growls he was producing.

“Sharpedo, Crunch!” ordered the sailor. The shark immediately lunged at Gyarados and sank its fangs into his white tail fin. He roared in pain and tried to shake Sharpedo off; it still held on. Gyarados slammed his tail against the harbor wall, Sharpedo still stuck on. Receiving a harsh blow, the shark let go of his tail. Blood oozed out, making the water slightly murkier. Mark bit his lip; he just hoped Gyarados wasn’t too hurt.

“Another Crunch, Sharpedo!” the sailor shouted, and his Pokémon darted towards Gyarados’s tail again. This time, however, the monster just let the shark bite him. He waited perfectly still, obviously in pain, but didn’t move.

“Let him go!” said the sailor desperately. Mark first wondered why; then he remembered one of the things he had managed to register in Pokémonology: Sharpedo always had to keep swimming forward so that water would flow through their gills. If they were held in place, they could suffocate…

“Return,” said the sailor, holding out his Pokéball to recall Sharpedo. The shark disappeared in a beam of red light.

“You ought to teach your Gyarados some manners,” the sailor commented coldly. “That’s a monster.”

“Sorry,” Mark just muttered as he recalled Gyarados.

“I could sue your pants off, you know,” the sailor continued. “And have your Gyarados disposed of for breaking the Agreement.”

“I know,” said Mark miserably. He had no idea why Gyarados had tried to literally drown the Sharpedo – and he had been too stunned to recall him.

“But I’ll let you slide this time, just because I don’t have the time,” the sailor said as he turned around and walked into the village again.

Mark stared blankly at nothing for a few seconds before realizing what he was supposed to be doing. He released Gyarados from his Pokéball again and took out the CD he had bought earlier.

“Gyarados, you’ll need to learn Dive so we can get to Aquarium City,” Mark explained, holding the disc forward. Gyarados touched it lightly with his forehead, and the disc’s deep blue color ripped loose from it and sank into his body. He shook himself slightly, and then nodded.

“Okay, great,” Mark said nervously. “Now I need to get on your back, I guess.”

Gyarados obediently swam nearer to the bank and turned his side towards Mark. He walked unsurely to the edge of the concrete, not sure exactly how to mount Gyarados. Finally, he just grabbed the dragon’s head tightly with his arms and somehow managed to use the plates that stuck out on either side of the first segment of armor as footing while he sat in front of the first fin.

“Is this okay, Gyarados?” he asked, worried that it might be uncomfortable for the sea serpent. He just nodded slightly.

“All right…” Mark took out the H2Oxy and held it in his hand. “Be ready to dive, Gyarados… one, two… THREE!”

He took a deep breath and put on the H2Oxy as Gyarados dove under the surface. Holding on for dear life, Mark felt like he was in some kind of a rollercoaster with very sub-par seats that additionally included the thrill of not knowing whether one would drown in it or not.

He was relieved to find that the H2Oxy did work; while breathing was a bit harder than on dry land, he could manage this way. The water repel-spray apparently also worked, as he didn’t seem to be getting wet. Mark also discovered that it had been a mistake not to buy the Sharpedo-ward.

It was probably the smell of Gyarados’s blood in the water that attracted them; at least they looked like they were expecting some easy prey. There were around ten of those sharks like the one the sailor had, and they all stared murderously at Mark and Gyarados.

The dragon shook Mark off and darted at the Sharpedo. They scattered, but for some reason he kept on chasing one of them in particular and, to Mark’s great disgust, caught it. Gyarados, having locked his jaws securely around the shark’s body, started shaking it vigorously until he ripped a bit of flesh apart from the body and swallowed it. Catching the slowly sinking corpse again, he took some more. Now the scene was getting shrouded in the Sharpedo’s blood, saving Mark from having to see any more Sharpedo innards.

It wasn’t long until Gyarados appeared to have finished all that was edible of the Sharpedo, since he came swimming back to Mark like nothing had happened. Mark wanted to say something, but was unable to because they were in the water. He got uneasily on Gyarados’s back again, and they continued towards the distant light that was Aquarium City.

The Sharpedo appeared to have learned their lesson and didn’t bother Mark and Gyarados further. He was fascinated by a group of cute, light blue seahorses called Horsea and the larger, more vicious Seadra leading them; the Horsea fluttered their tiny, wing-like fins and managed to swim very cutely that way, while the Seadra flapped its spiked fins slowly and gracefully, ready to defend the young ones. After the Horsea swam past, Mark noticed what looked like a swimming rock. Then he realized that it was a rock-like fish Pokémon.

Various Pokémonology lessons whirred past; then finally this Pokémon’s identity clunked into place. It was a Relicanth, and they were…

“Incredibly rare!” Mark mouthed behind the H2Oxy. He prodded Gyarados’s head slightly and pointed at the ancient fish. The message was understood; Gyarados darted at the Relicanth and grabbed it by the tail. The fish, however, quickly started glowing red as it summoned some large rocks from different directions that smashed into the sea monster’s head. He was knocked unconscious by the blow, and the Relicanth managed to disappear, very quickly for a Rock type.

Mark had no choice but to recall Gyarados, and now he was in trouble. This had clearly been a very powerful Relicanth to beat Gyarados in one hit and be so strangely fast. Now he had no Pokémon to Dive on, so he’d have to swim all the way to Aquarium City.

He started swimming a bit, but the lights of the city never seemed to draw any nearer. He had to rest after a short while, and discovered then to his horror that the Sharpedo had noticed that Gyarados was unable to battle. Their shadows steadily grew closer…

Mark was basically panicking when suddenly, what seemed at first to be another Gyarados shot forward and started fighting the sharks off. The Sharpedo quickly realized that they didn’t stand a chance and disappeared.

Mark’s savior now turned gently around. It was not a Gyarados, but it was another sea serpent – this one had a more draconic head, and a sleeker, darker body. Nothing at all could be read from the expression in its deep, black eyes.

Then it neared him, and came close to his face. It tilted its head slightly while examining him thoroughly; he hardly dared to breathe through the H2Oxy. Then, slowly and gracefully, it turned its side towards him in what was clearly a gesture for him to mount it.

The monster blinked. Mark guessed he didn’t have much of a choice, whatever the Pokémon’s intent was; the Sharpedo could come back if he tried to swim by himself. Trembling, he wrapped his arms around the creature’s scaly neck; there was something so comfortable and motherly about it that he felt safe if he only held on to it well enough…

The dragon shot quickly through the water, so smoothly that Mark barely felt it. He lost all sense of time clinging on to the creature’s neck, but after some amount of time, they came to a halt. The gigantic glass dome that covered Aquarium City was ahead; beautiful lights from the inside illuminated the sea next to it and just two meters away was the entrance to the tube that led inside.

Mark got off the monster’s back and dragged himself exhaustedly in through the door. Suddenly he remembered that he had never heard of this Pokémon before; he quickly took his Pokédex off his belt and pointed it out at the sea serpent.

“Monarking, monster Pokémon. This very rare, aquatic Pokémon is said to be somewhat magical and is highly intelligent. They are said to occasionally help humans whose lives are in danger.”

He slowly put the Pokédex down. The Monarking outside the glass gave him a slow nod, and then swam away. Mark lost sight of it as it blended into the color of the ocean around it.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Ah, yes, the chapter where Mark is completely unaware of the major festival that hosts the starter Pokémon giveaway that he spent years looking forward to going to. This definitely makes sense.

The Victor conversation happened in the previous versions, but then it wasn't a pretext for Victor to explain what Mitch told him (because there Mitch hadn't told him anything at the end of last chapter). However, despite Mark explicitly realizing Victor is lying about why he wants to see May, he reacts just as nonchalantly to him and the prospect of meeting up with him again at the Pokémon Festival as in the previous versions where he wasn't being shifty at all. It's also pretty glaring in this version that Victor could just, you know, tell Mark right now and then ask him to pass it on to May if he sees her again, instead of being cryptic and insisting he'll only tell them at the festival. More excellent revision choices by fourteen-year-old me.

Gotta love Mark just kind of brushing aside Gyarados using a potentially lethal tactic and not mentioning it when he sends him out again a minute later, and then Gyarados kills and eats a Sharpedo in front of him and he's just "Well, I can't talk underwater, so I guess we won't talk about this either." Solid choices.

The featured fakemon in this chapter, Monarking, was originally created as the final stage Water starter for a set of five starters for Ouen that I created at the beginning of 2003. They were all pretty bad and not very competently illustrated. You'll note the page talks about "Characteristics"; this was the original fan translation of the Japanese term for abilities, used before Ruby and Sapphire came out in English (which would happen in March 2003).

Originally I intended the Monarking appearance to be a hook for something later. I never actually came up with any kind of later thing where it would be relevant, so this has been a completely pointless one-scene wonder fakemon appearance.

 

[Dragonfree]

Chapter eighteen, in which I bring back that Scyther and Charmeleon thing from chapter eleven. Remember that? Guys??

Chapter 18: Enemies Forever​

​

Dazed and still in shock, Mark made his way along the tube. At the end, there was a second door; in order for the water not to flood inside, Mark had to press a button that would empty the tube before entering. The water-repellant spray had gotten him there completely dry; he removed the H2Oxy from his face when the water level lowered past his head, and once the tube was dry, the glass door opened with a hiss and he walked into the city.

It was bustling with life. People were all around the main street, many with their Pokémon. Plants were at every corner. Ahead, a huge, white building with the words “POKÉMON GYM” written on it in red letters towered over the rest of the houses; it appeared to be exactly in the middle of the glass dome.

Mark was too tired to be excited. He felt like he hadn’t slept for months. He dragged himself off towards a hotel sign, and met May just in front of the hotel.

“Oh, hi!” she greeted him happily.

“Hi,” he mumbled, feeling slow.

“I just won my badge,” said May, breaking into a wide grin as she took a silver coin from an inner pocket in her jacket. This one had waves engraved in it.

“Nice,” Mark said, trying to seem interested. May frowned.

“Did that idiotic shopkeeper sell you a ‘D-press’ or something? You’re like a ghost.”

“Mmmh,” Mark just replied.

“Anyway, Larvitar evolved,” May announced proudly, taking one of the Pokéballs off her necklace. “Look.”

She dropped it to the ground; the red light formed into a blue cocoon-like creature. It looked at Mark with resentful eyes, then just stared straight forward with a gloomy expression. Mark would’ve been impressed, but at the moment all he could think of was bed.

“I’ll talk to you later, I want some sleep,” he muttered.

May looked at him for a second, but then just shrugged.

“You sure need it,” she sighed and walked off. Mark walked sleepily in, paid absent-mindedly for a room and sluggishly walked along the corridor. He entered with a funny feeling like his eyeballs were melting, dropped into the bed and instantly drifted into deep sleep.

-------

When he woke up, he wasn’t sure where he was, but he felt extremely good and refreshed. After a few hazy moments of rubbing his eyes and looking blankly around, he started to regain the cloudy memories of the journey to Aquarium City.

“Oh, yeah…” he muttered. “Gyarados… he killed a Sharpedo…”

Somehow, the image didn’t bother him anymore. He blinked.

Then, he had been saved by… that thing. Mo… Mo-something. Mona? Monarch? Monarking? Yeah, that was it. Something that was supposed to be magical and highly intelligent with a tendency to save people…

Suddenly, it dawned on to him how extremely lucky he had been. About to get eaten by a bunch of Sharpedo, and then a Pokémon that loves saving everybody happens to pass!

What made it even funnier was that it wasn’t even Mark’s usual luck at all. If it had been his luck, the Monarking would’ve passed but thought he looked too stupid to save him. Yeah, Mark convinced himself, that would definitely have been typical him.

He sighed. He hadn’t even thanked the creature. If he had another similar experience on the way up to the surface, it would definitely not bother saving him again. At least he wouldn’t if he was a Monarking. He’d probably be thinking: You’re being too nice, you know... why save all those pesky humans? They’ve never saved you.

Mark checked his digital watch. Seven in the morning. His stomach gurgled; he figured he’d better get himself some breakfast.

-------

Mark poured cereal into his bowl and splashed some milk over it. There were a few people eating now too; May was not among them so Mark assumed that she was still sleeping. He took his time eating his breakfast and finally headed out to the Pokémon Center.

“Hi,” he greeted Nurse Joy, “I left my Sandslash at the Pokémon Center in Scorpio City. Can you contact the nurse there and see if he has recovered?”

Nurse Joy bowed and turned to the videophone behind her. She picked up the receiver, dialed the number and held it to her ear. A picture of the Nurse Joy in Scorpio City soon appeared; she looked tired and half-asleep like she had been working for most of the night.

“What?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“There’s a boy here asking about his Sandslash,” the Joy at Mark’s end answered. She stepped slightly aside; the Joy in Scorpio City peered at Mark through the screen and then seemed to remember him.

“Oh, yeah,” she mumbled. “Yes, your Sandslash is fine. Should I send him over?”

“Yes, please,” Mark answered, loudly enough for the receiver to pick it up. The nurse nodded and placed a Pokéball under the tube of her transfer machine and pressed a button. On the screen, they could see the Pokéball being sucked up into the tube; just a second later, it dropped down from the tube right in front of them.

“Bye…” said Nurse Joy of Scorpio City with a yawn. She put the receiver back into place, and the screen went static.

The nurse replaced the receiver to turn off the videophone and handed Mark the Pokéball. “Have a nice day,” she said, smiling warmly. He thanked her and walked outside, putting the ball back on his belt.

Next stop was the gym. Mark walked firmly towards the big building in the center of the city. He didn’t know if it was already open; if not, he could go training or something. In fact, he was almost doubtful when he found a sign on the door which clarified that it had opened at seven; on the way, while trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t be so bad even if it wasn’t open, he had managed to get an uneasy feeling like he wasn’t at all ready to face the gym leader yet. Still, he shrugged; maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. He opened the modern-looking glass door and stepped inside.

The gym was round with a rather narrow brink along the walls, but two half-circle-shaped pools in the middle. In the very center, the bank that separated the two pools became a circle. It took a second for Mark to realize that from above, the gym would look like a Pokéball.

“Good morning,” came a powerful-sounding female voice from the other end of the arena. The speaker was a woman who looked in her mid to late thirties. Her wavy, dark blue hair fell almost down to the floor, and her sapphire blue dress covered her feet completely as she walked slowly left from a door on the right side of the opposite wall.

“You are here for a badge, aren’t you?” she asked, turning around in the exact center. Her voice had some odd kind of grace to it; she spoke loudly and clearly, in a royal sort of tone.

“Yeah.” Mark nodded.

“Good.”

The woman looked slightly into the air for a second, but then turned straight to Mark again. “My name is Marge, and I am the gym leader of Aquarium City. Defeat me…”

She held forward a silver coin in her long fingers.

“…and earn the Surf Badge.”

Mark just nodded.

“We will battle in three rounds of two-on-two,” said Marge, cracking her knuckles as she started staring into the air again. “Because few trainers here have been to Hoenn, where two-on-two battles originate, I will explain to you the rules.”

Mark nodded again. He had heard of two-on-two battles, but obviously he had never tried one.

“Both trainers send out two Pokémon at a time. The Pokémon must work together to defeat the other trainer’s two Pokémon.”

She paused, and then went on: “We will be battling in rounds here, so if one of your Pokémon faints, you do not send out a replacement. The remaining Pokémon will have to try to defeat the other Pokémon. The trainer who has the last Pokémon standing wins the round. Then all Pokémon used in that round are recalled, and must not be sent out again. I assume that you have a full team of six Pokémon already, of course?”

“Yes,” Mark answered. He bit his lip; this sounded hard.

“Thus, the battle shall…”

Marge took out two Pokéballs from her silk belt and maximized them.

“…begin.”

She threw the two balls into the pool on her end. Mark nervously watched the two shapes form: a light blue, catlike creature with fins around its neck, on the sides and top of the head and along the whole back, and a green and yellow frog.

Mark thought for a bit. If he remembered correctly, a lot of Water Pokémon had the Water Absorb ability, which allowed them to be healed through coming into contact with water alone. They would have to be taken down quickly. His first thought was Scyther; then he remembered that Water Pokémon often learned Ice attacks, which he would be very vulnerable to.

“Oh well,” he sighed, “go, Gyarados and Eevee.”

He almost dropped one of the balls when he maximized them and decided he’d rather just throw one ball with each hand. The Pokémon materialized, Eevee on the circle in the middle and Gyarados in the pool behind him.

“Gyarados, can you use that powerful thingy? On… er, Vaporeon?” Mark asked hopefully. Gyarados nodded, closed his eyes and his colors started fading.

“Um, Eevee, try a Quick Attack on Politoed.”

Eevee instantly leapt towards the frog Pokémon. It had no means of avoiding the fast attack and was knocked slightly backwards, but had plenty of energy left. Eevee darted back, but the frog fired a jet of water from its mouth at the brown Pokémon and the pressure pushed him into the pool on Mark’s end. Just as he frantically tried to swim to the bank, Gyarados released a powerful red beam which shot towards the mermaid-like cat. As it tried to dive, the beam followed its fish-like tail and hit it. The Water Pokémon’s body stiffened up and it started to sink helplessly to the bottom.

“Return, Vaporeon,” Marge said hastily, allowing the red beam from her Pokéball to recall her cat Pokémon. “Politoed, use a Surf.”

Instantly, a wave of water rose up from Marge’s pool and crashed towards Eevee and Gyarados. Eevee shrieked as he was soaked by it and was left unconscious; Gyarados didn’t appear too hurt.

“Return, Eevee,” Mark said disappointedly. “Umm… another mega attack-thingy, Gyarados,” he suggested. The sea monster again started graying; it took less time to charge the beam now, but it looked a lot less powerful this time too. Not as bright as before, it shot towards Politoed, but much to Mark’s surprise, Politoed didn’t look too hurt by it.

“Er… try again?” Mark said doubtfully to Gyarados. As he charged, Politoed grew healthier from absorbing the water in the pool. By the time Gyarados fired the beam, the frog seemed to be fully healed, and the attack hurt it even less this time.

Mark felt later that he really should’ve figured that there was something wrong with repeated uses of Gyarados’s powerful attack by now, but he didn’t and ordered the sea monster to try it again.

“Ice Beam,” said Marge to her Pokémon. While Gyarados was charging (he seemed to be getting exhausted now and taking a longer time for it again), the frog shot a beam of ice crystals at him from its mouth. When it hit Gyarados, he roared in pain and seemed to lose concentration for the attack. He desperately tried again; Politoed sent another Ice Beam at him while he was trying and finally, he collapsed weakly, fainted.

“Return,” said Mark hopelessly. Gyarados had just done what he had told him; had that been the reason he lost?

“Very well,” Marge announced expressionlessly. “I have claimed victory in the first round. In order to win the battle, you must win both remaining rounds.”

“I know,” Mark replied.

“Go, Feraligatr and Quagsire,” Marge said. Mark cursed under his breath as her two Pokémon formed: the same kind of a big blue alligator that the Mew Hunter had possessed, and a rubbery, dopey-looking creature that mostly resembled a light blue bipedal jelly sausage with webbed feet and two rounded fins for arms. She was probably saving her best for the last – meaning that Mark should probably better save Scyther for the last round.

“Go, Sandslash and Dratini.”

Mark realized with guilt that this was the first time that Dratini actually got to battle against a trainer, save for the battle against May’s Larvitar in Rainbow Woods. Other than that he had only gotten to battle a few wild Pokémon. He was a bit neglected. But this wasn’t the time to think about that.

“Feraligatr, Crunch the Dratini,” said Marge. “Quagsire, Earthquake.”

“Dratini, Twister on the Quagsire,” Mark said quickly. “Sandslash, try to distract Feraligatr with a Slash.”

Dratini spun around at top speed and whipped up a powerful whirlwind of green dragon flames that was sent towards the jelly-like creature, while Sandslash jumped up and swiped his claws across the alligator’s face. Feraligatr roared and blasted a jet of water at the pangolin; Sandslash quickly curled up into a ball to repel as much of it as he could as he was thrown backwards from the pressure. Just then, the Quagsire let out a loud belch of “QUA-A-AG!” and jumped into the air, coming down hard and sending ripples across the floor. Feraligatr was hurt by it just as much as Dratini and Sandslash, but that was damage to one of her Pokémon but both of his.

“Umm…” Mark suddenly thought of his own variation of Marge’s combo. “Dratini, dive into the pool! Sandslash, Earthquake!”

Dratini threw himself into the water as Sandslash leapt up, producing a powerful tremor as he landed. Both Feraligatr and Quagsire were severely hurt; Dratini, being in the water, was not affected by it, just like Mark had hoped.

“Dratini, try a Thunder Wave on Feraligatr. Sandslash, use another Earthquake.”

“Quagsire, Ice Beam on Sandslash,” Marge ordered. “Feraligatr, try to get rid of Dratini.”

Luckily, Dratini was quicker carrying out his order. He jumped up, and while in the air, his body sparkled with electricity which he sent flying at the alligator. Its muscles stiffened up, preventing it from moving as Sandslash and Quagsire both prepared their attacks. As the pangolin came down on the ground, both Feraligatr and Quagsire were hit; the alligator collapsed and Marge recalled him, but the rather weak Quagsire sent a beam of ice at Sandslash, which blasted him back a short distance and left him unconscious.

“Come back, Sandslash; you did a great job,” Mark complimented his Pokémon as he recalled him. Now he had only Dratini left, but Quagsire was weak…

“Quagsire, dive into the pool,” Marge commanded calmly, and the jelly-like fish jumped into the water, starting to absorb it and grow healthier. As if to counter this turn of events, Dratini became wrapped in a white glow.

Mark watched, stunned, as his little dragon grew longer and sleeker. As the glow faded, he was revealed to have a more shapely head, a sapphire blue orb under it on his neck, and two similar orbs near the end of his tail.

“Whoa. You evolved,” Mark said blankly.

“Gonair,” the newly evolved Pokémon confirmed, turning to his opponent.

“Er… Wrap? Or something?” Mark suggested, not sure what a Dragonair could do exactly. The dragon slithered towards Quagsire; the fish backed away and attempted an Ice Beam, but Dragonair whipped himself aside so that it crashed into the wall instead. Then, with a quick movement, he wrapped himself around Quagsire’s body and started squeezing hard.

“Qua-a…” gasped the Pokémon, trying hard to keep breathing. Dragonair tightened his grip every time the fish exhaled, and after a few more seconds of strain, Quagsire fell unconscious. Dragonair loosened the hold slightly in order not to kill the amphibian; Marge silently took out a Pokéball and recalled her Quagsire.

“Very well,” she said as Mark brightly recalled Dragonair. “Now we are even. The last round will decide the winner…”

She smiled. “Go, Lapras and Starmie!”

Mark was right; they were probably her best. From her two Pokéballs formed a big sea turtle like May had and a ten-armed purple starfish with a ruby set in the golden core.

He was about to take out his last two Pokéballs when he realized that his two Pokémon left were the rivals Scyther and Charmeleon. Just how likely were they to cooperate in a two-on-two?

Oh man, he thought to himself, how stupid can I get?

But he couldn’t forfeit. He just couldn’t. He had a chance of winning – if Scyther and Charmeleon could just put their hatred aside for one battle.

He nervously took his two last Pokéballs. “Go, Scyther and Charmeleon.”

The mantis and the lizard formed, instantly noticed each other and exchanged some nasty glares.

“Guys,” Mark interrupted, “this is a serious battle. We’re in the Aquarium City Gym, and this is the final round of this two-on-two, which decides the winner. If you can just behave nicely this once we’ll win this, okay?”

Scyther nodded curtly and turned towards Lapras. Charmeleon snorted disdainfully and turned his attention to the starfish.

“Great,” Mark said cheerfully, contrasting with his true feelings. “Scyther, Slash Lapras, and Charmeleon, you can try a Flamethrower.”

Scyther immediately dashed forward, flying over the first pool and aiming his scythe at the Lapras’s neck. Charmeleon ran along the brink by the wall and fired a blast of flames from his mouth. The starfish leapt out of the way with great agility, and Charmeleon just “happened” to be positioned exactly so that the flames instead scorched Scyther’s exoskeleton. Bathed in flames for a second, Scyther made no sound but wore an expression of great agony as he landed, torched, on the circle in the middle of the arena.

“Sorry,” said Charmeleon sarcastically with a broad grin on his face. Scyther leered at him, but jerked his head back in Lapras’s direction, as if he wanted to say, “You’re not worth it.”

Charmeleon started running again, this time along the path between the pools. Starmie, who had jumped into Mark’s pool to avoid the Flamethrower, fired a stream of water at the lizard; Charmeleon leapt out of the way, and the water instead hit Scyther’s back as he was about to take off. Again, Scyther turned around and glared icily at the lizard.

“I thought it would help cool you down, you know,” said Charmeleon in a mockingly innocent tone. Scyther ignored him and leapt forward to slash at Starmie. The starfish dived into the water so Scyther had to land again.

Charmeleon’s wicked grin widened as he breathed softly into his palm and then tossed a tiny but very hot fireball towards the mantis. It hit Scyther’s wing and burned a hole in it. The mantis whirled murderously around, not showing any signs of pain.

“Oops, I sneezed,” Charmeleon said, his grin still broadening. Scyther turned back to Lapras as Charmeleon snorted. Then the bug turned firmly around, glared at Charmeleon for a second and then suddenly leapt into the air and zoomed at the lizard with both of his scythes raised.

He never hit. Mark recalled them both just before Scyther’s blades made contact with Charmeleon. He muttered some kind of excuse to Marge, forfeiting the battle, before he scurried off to the Pokémon Center.

-------

After all his Pokémon had gotten basic healing and Scyther had been treated with a Burn Heal, Mark got his Pokéballs back. He went off to a corner; he wanted to talk to Scyther and Charmeleon individually without interruptions.

He sent Charmeleon out first. The lizard seemed to know what Mark wanted to talk to him about; as soon as he had materialized, he started talking:

“Did you see that, Mark? I told you he’d be dangerous! He tried to kill me, for crying out loud!”

“And do you have the vaguest idea of why that was?” Mark spat angrily, causing Charmeleon’s casual expression to turn more serious. “You asked for it! You attacked him! He even resisted the urge to attack you back for the first two times! What’s wrong with you? He hasn’t done anything to you!”

“No, thanks to you,” Charmeleon replied. “There you see what he can do. One little joke, and he wants to write satanic chants with your blood. It’s not safe to be around him. Just you wait; he’s going to slit both of our throats sometime when we’re sleeping if you don’t do anything about it.”

Mark didn’t feel like replying to that and just took out the Pokéball again.

“Return,” he said emptily.

“See ya in the afterlife,” were Charmeleon’s last words before he was dissolved into red energy and drawn back into his Pokéball.

-------

“Scyther, why did you attack Charmeleon?”

“Because he was daring me to do it throughout the whole battle,” the mantis said in his usual, calm tone.

“But you were resisting that urge just fine before, weren’t you?” Mark said angrily.

“Third time’s the charm,” Scyther replied.

“Why third time rather than the fourth or fifth or one-hundredth or, even better, no time at all?” Mark hissed.

“Charmeleon was humiliating me,” Scyther hissed back. “I couldn’t just stand there and battle like a nice Pokémon!”

“Look, I just don’t want two of my Pokémon fighting!” Mark said loudly. Scyther’s calmness somehow just frustrated him.

“This is none of your business, Mark,” Scyther stated. “It’s a personal matter between Charmeleon and me. We can handle this on our own.”

“OF COURSE IT’S SOME OF MY BUSINESS!” Mark screamed. “YOU’RE MY FREAKING POKÉMON!”

With a lightning-quick movement, Scyther’s right scythe came flying towards Mark’s face. It stopped a centimeter or so from his nose.

Mark didn’t dare to breathe. He just stared at the deadly blade that had almost killed him. After what seemed like ages, Scyther looked strangely at him and slowly lowered his scythe. As Mark caught his breath again, he fell backwards against the wall.

“I’m… sorry,” Scyther muttered. “It’s just a subconscious reaction…”

“You almost gave me a heart attack,” Mark mumbled in a trembling voice. Scyther turned around and then was slowly enveloped in a red glow as he recalled himself back into the Pokéball. Mark was left pressing his back against the wall, sweating and shivering uncontrollably as some of the people whose attention had been caught alerted Nurse Joy.

His last conscious thought was that maybe Charmeleon’s theory wasn’t all that far-fetched.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

This chapter was originally posted at five in the morning on Christmas Day 2004. I was just very excited about the whole Scyther and Charmeleon subplot, which had played out fully in the original version before I started this one. It's incredibly kludgily executed (it's only briefly come up once since chapter 11, in the form of Scyther and Charmeleon being mentioned to be ignoring each other during the group fight in chapter 13, yet Mark is somehow immediately convinced here that having Scyther and Charmeleon out together is an obvious recipe for disaster, and also why is Charmeleon being such a dick), but I'm still fond of the basic idea of Mark losing this gym battle thanks to two of his Pokémon just starting to fight each other instead.

I'm so dismayed by Mark just being weirdly sleepy and then sleeping and then suddenly he's not bothered anymore by Gyarados murdering a Sharpedo before his eyes. What even. I have something like a vague memory that I may have intended Mitch to be behind this with his nebulous psychic powers, somehow (he was also implied to have somehow stopped Mark having nightmares last night), but of course I included no indication of this, so that's entirely useless.

Amused by the attempt to assert that my character's usual luck is terrible as a counter to one incident that's kind of lucky, which only really draws attention to the fact that actually a number of pretty lucky things (luckier than the thing I'm trying to justify!) have been happening to Mark.

Also a fan of how Mark's going for the fourth gym the day after the third, and as far as we've seen, exactly one of his Pokémon has had exactly one battle in the meantime. You think you may not be prepared, Mark? You think?

 

[Dragonfree]

Chapter nineteen, in which we learn a minor detail not mentioned in the book in chapter two and my fourteen-year-old self makes some truly inspired decisions.

Chapter 19: Good or Evil?​

​

When Mark regained consciousness, he was still in the Pokémon Center, lying on one of the sofas. A crowd of people stood over him; murmurs of “He’s waking up…” went through the group as he opened his eyes. Most of the people left, but a familiar blue-haired girl still waited.

“Mark? You okay?” May asked. He mumbled something.

“What happened?” she inquired. “They’re saying your Scyther attacked you; is it true?”

“Nah,” Mark muttered. “It was just the excitement…”

May very obviously saw right through him, but as usual she didn’t ask and just changed the subject instead. “Hey, you’ll be happy when you hear why I waited for you to wake up.”

“Why?” Mark asked.

“I managed to find a guy with an Exeggcute who is willing to let it Teleport us to Green Town. How does that sound?”

“Great,” Mark replied, smiling. May could be very useful sometimes. “What time is it?” he asked.

“Quarter past two,” she replied. “Oh, yeah, did you get your badge?”

Mark blushed. “Eh, not really.”

May raised an eyebrow. “How did it go?”

“Well, Eevee and Gyarados lost to her Politoed and Vaporeon, and Sandslash and Dratini, who is now a Dragonair, beat her Feraligatr and Quagsire, but then I had just Scyther and Charmeleon left, and…”

“Did they almost kill Charmeleon or something so you had to forfeit?” May guessed.

“No,” Mark replied miserably. “I guess I never told you, but Scyther and Charmeleon hate each other.”

There was a short silence. “Oh,” May then answered, seemingly surprised. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, Charmeleon basically started taunting Scyther, and then Scyther came and was going to kill him, so I had to recall them…” Mark explained painfully.

“And then you fainted?” May asked disbelievingly.

“Er, I took them inside and Scyther, well… it was true, he did attack me.”

May’s mouth fell open. “What? How are you still alive?”

“He stopped himself just before…”

“But what are you going to do?” May interrupted.

“What can I do?” Mark yelled out in frustration. “If he’s going to kill me, he’ll do it before I can do anything about it! He hears through Pokéballs and can break out of them! Releasing him would be suicide, trying to get him disposed of some other way would also be, and keeping him in the Pokéball makes him a ticking bomb that can explode at any time! Is there anything at all that I can do?”

Suddenly, he felt hopeless, small and scared. “Why does everything like this happen to me?” he whimpered.

“Come on, you look silly,” May hissed. “Just get it through your thick skull that you’re not the unluckiest person in the world! Why are you always feeling sorry for yourself? You don’t even know if Scyther is a secret assassin – and really, if he was, wouldn’t he have killed you already? You’re being stupid, Mark. Just stand up, get your badge and stop whining.”

Mark felt like he had just been punched in the face, but somehow it was relieving.

“You’re right,” he said blankly, standing slowly up. “I’m just being stupid. I’ll just go and battle Marge again, and we can go off to Green Town.”

“Don’t take too long,” May called after him as he started walking out of the Pokémon Center. “Or I might leave without you.”

-------

Mark stepped into the Gym for the second time this day. Marge was still standing at the other end; she bowed slightly when he entered.

“Umm, yeah, I’m here for a rematch,” Mark said nervously. Marge nodded.

“And… since we were even after two rounds earlier, can we just take one round now?” Mark suggested.

“Using the same Pokémon?” Marge asked emotionlessly.

“Eh,” Mark got an uncomfortable sting in his stomach, “I’d prefer not; they won’t be able to work together anytime soon.”

“Then,” Marge began, pacing around her end of the arena, “you must send out your Pokémon first.”

“Sure,” said Mark, shrugging. Better than nothing.

“Go, Scyther and Dragonair!”

The mantis and the snake-like dragon came out of the Pokéballs, calling out their names.

“Interesting…” said Marge slowly before taking out two of her own Pokéballs. “Go, Lapras and Starmie.”

The sea turtle and the starfish from earlier emerged from the red light, facing Mark’s Pokémon. He took a deep breath.

“Okay, Dragonair, use a Dragonbreath, if you know that, or Twister or something, on Lapras. Scyther… can you use Fury Cutter? If not, just a normal Slash. Attack Starmie.”

It was first now dawning on to Mark that he didn’t know anything about his Pokémon’s attacks. He remembered Twister from the Pokédex since he checked Dratini’s stats in Rainbow Woods, but he had never battled with Scyther before and just vaguely remembered something about Fury Cutter being Scyther’s signature move. Marge had to think he was an idiot.

Either way, his Pokémon obeyed. Dragonair spun around at high speed, producing a green whirlwind of dragon flames and sending it towards the blue turtle. It let out a high-pitched wail before countering with an icy beam which blasted into Dragonair, clearly leaving him very hurt. Meanwhile, Scyther jumped up and darted towards Starmie. He slashed it loosely and his scythes started glowing faintly green. Starmie, seemingly not very hurt, countered with a beam of ice which sent Scyther flying backwards. He growled as he returned right to the starfish and slashed it again, more powerfully than before.

“Both of you, Ice Beam,” said Marge calmly. Her two Pokémon both leaned backwards, charging up new beams of ice.

“Quick, Dragonair, dive!” Mark blurted out. “Scyther, keep using Fury Cutter but try to dodge the attacks!” He knew that Fury Cutter would only increase in power if used many times with not too long between them. If the Pokémon that used it lost concentration, the power would fade completely.

Scyther zoomed down at Starmie and slashed it with his now-glowing blades. Dragonair dove into the pool, narrowly avoiding the Ice Beam as Lapras fired it. Starmie aimed well after being struck by Scyther and blasted him into the wall. He shook himself slightly before slashing at Starmie again. With each hit, the glow on his scythes intensified and the slashes got more powerful.

Finally, Scyther slashed Starmie sharply and the starfish collapsed. Marge returned it without words, and issued a command to her sea turtle:

“Ice Beam his pool.”

Lapras blasted a beam of ice at the pool. The water froze instantly; Dragonair, being underwater, was trapped completely in the middle of the completely frozen pool.

“Dragonair, come back,” Mark said worriedly, recalling his Pokémon through the sheet of ice. “Scyther, keep using Fury Cutter on Lapras! You can do this!”

The last words were encouraging, but not convincing. Lapras was not very hurt, but Scyther was getting weak now after having been hit by two Ice Beams from Starmie.

“Lapras, Blizzard,” Marge said in an icy voice as Scyther rushed towards the sea turtle. Mark clenched his fist while Lapras swung its neck back…

A vicious blast of snow and wind obscured the room – but it narrowly missed Scyther as he swung out of the way.

His brightly glowing scythe cut powerfully across the base of Lapras’s neck. The Pokémon let out a screech as blood gushed out; Scyther flew back and landed in the middle of the arena.

“I forfeit,” said Marge quickly, taking out another Pokéball. Out of it came the mermaid cat, Vaporeon. Without a command, it fired a soft stream of water at Lapras’s cut; for a moment, the stream obscured the wound, but when Vaporeon ended the Water Gun attack, the cut was no longer visible. Lapras winced, but appeared all right.

Marge recalled her Pokémon and walked gracefully across the arena, handing Mark a badge like the one May had.

“You battled fairly well,” she commented, “but rather brutally.” She turned to Scyther as she said the last words; he was just finishing licking his scythes clean. He turned emptily to her, looking into her eyes with an odd, blank but somehow tragic expression, and returned to his Pokéball.

“Sorry,” Mark excused awkwardly. “He’s a bit… strange…”

Marge didn’t reply; she just nodded and then swept around to walk out of the arena. Mark assumed that since he had his badge, he could leave. Hesitating, he turned around and walked out through the door.

May was waiting for him outside.

“Got your badge this time?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Mark replied.

“You sound pretty gloomy for somebody who’s just won a badge,” May commented as she started walking, Mark following.

“Mmm,” he answered. She just sighed.

“You really need to cheer up a little bit, you know. Feel good just once.”

Mark was too polite to tell her that he found her extremely annoying, so he didn’t answer.

“Hey!”

A brown-haired boy wearing a green T-shirt ran up to them. “It’s good I found you; I’m in a bit of a hurry, you see. Can you teleport now?”

May looked at Mark. “Umm, I think I have all my stuff, at least,” he answered.

“Great,” said the boy, taking a Pokéball from his belt. He threw it to reveal what looked like six pink, creepy eggs with evil grins. They hovered just above the ground, floating slightly up and down.

“Come on, Mark,” May said, leaning down to touch the eggs. Mark did the same; he couldn’t get rid of the feeling that those eggs would bite him, though.

“Okay, Exeggcute,” said the trainer loudly, “Teleport to the Green Town Pokémon Center.”

“Exeggcute!” answered six mischievous voices as the Pokémon started flickering. Then suddenly, Mark realized that he was in a Pokémon Center; it was one of the pink-furry-carpet ones.

May took her hand off the egg Pokémon, and Mark hesitantly removed his. The Pokémon started flickering again and disappeared.

Mark looked around. This Pokémon Center might have had the same architect as the ones in Cleanwater, Alumine and Aquarium City, but it was probably bigger than all three of them put together. That was no surprise, since Green Town was the biggest city in Ouen. It had increased so rapidly in size that it still had that name; in order not to seem like the name was just irony, trees had been planted all around to make it somewhat green.

But the Pokémon Center had no signs of green. Currently its white walls were covered in posters about the Pokémon Festival; it was also crowded with people who were mostly reading the posters and chatting excitedly. A big digital clock on the wall showed the time.

Mark suddenly noticed that May was already standing by a poster, reading. He walked up to her; the poster was a notice that the gym was closed during the festival.

“I think I’m going to challenge the gym leader now. When are you planning to do it?” she said, turning to him.

“Not now, at least,” Mark answered. “I mean, I just came back from the last gym.”

May shrugged. “Sure. Bye, then.”

“Bye.”

May hurried out of the Pokémon Center. Mark wasn’t sure what to do, but then his eyes found a poster with a big picture of Chaletwo. The left half portrayed him normally, on a white background; the right half had him colored darker, with the blinding yellow eye open, on a black background. Interested, he walked up to it and started reading.

CHALETWO: GOOD OR EVIL?

Since 870 AW, people have started doubting Chaletwo’s original claim of not intending to harm any living being. This, of course, is due to the famous Leah-Mary cases.

During his appearance in 870, Chaletwo murdered a twelve-year-old girl by the name of Leah Donaldson using his lethal Death Stare attack, without any apparent reason. After the act, Chaletwo left as he would any other year – but this time he took an innocent’s soul with him.

Leah’s family was devastated, and claimed that she could in no way have done anything that might have provoked the Legendary to do this. Most people were doubtful that Chaletwo would commit murder without a reason and the case quickly died down; however when Chaletwo killed another girl the next year, this time fifteen-year-old Mary Goldman from Johto, the voices rose up again fiercely. Two boys followed the next two years…

Mark stopped reading. He felt sick already. First Suicune, now Chaletwo! Why were all legendaries he got the chance to see brutal murderers of some sort? Of course, Suicune had been innocent, since Gyarados was the one who killed the people, but these were apparently murdered in plain sight of hundreds of people…

He must have looked very shocked or pale, because suddenly he felt a finger tap his shoulder.

“Can I help you?”

Mark turned around. The person who asked was a boy who looked a few years older than him; maybe fifteen or so. He had dark, messy hair and something about his face seemed distinctly familiar.

“Er… not really, I was just reading… didn’t know about this…” Mark pointed to the poster.

“Ah.” The boy looked at him with a somewhat troubled expression. “You don’t happen to have an interest in legendaries, do you?” he asked suddenly.

“Yeah, how did you know?” asked Mark, amazed that the boy could just know that from seeing him reading a poster. The boy’s expression turned still more worried; he bit his lip, but then said slowly:

“I think we should talk.”

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Mark: has a big overdramatic freakout about how Scyther is probably going to murder him
Also Mark: uses Scyther in his gym rematch without comment five minutes later

This wasn't even something retained from the previous versions (where Mark instead had a Gyarados vs. Feraligatr one-on-one here); I just somehow chose to do it this way without even noticing how strange it was. Fourteen-year-old me scoring some real hits over here.

Mark just having no idea what moves his own Pokémon know is, bizarrely, a running theme for a while. Maybe you could just, you know, ask them, like they're people who you can talk to? (Also, what do you mean you've never battled with Scyther before, he kind of memorably fought in the second gym battle as well as the previous attempt at this one, and technically in the desert too.)

The whole poster thing is delightfully ridiculous. Why on Earth is there debate about whether the legendary who has indisputably been murdering children is "good or evil" (these being two intrinsic binary categories, apparently)? Like, even if you imagine he must have done it for "good reasons", surely that would still render him a bit questionable, right? Why is there a poster explaining this thing that is clearly common knowledge when you haven't been living under a rock like Mark has? Why is it written like that? And this was also new in this version. My fourteen-year-old self has a lot to answer for.

The year 870 "AW" is four years ago; today is 874 AW. The start of the modern calendar is explained in a later chapter. The reason I went with the specific year 874 is that that's the usually cited year of the initial settlement of Iceland, which made it an easy year to remember for me personally; it has no other significance.

 

[Dragonfree]

Are you ready for the fic to take a brief casual swing back into chapter two levels of absolutely buckwild for no reason?

Chapter 20: The Warning​

​

“Huh?” Mark asked stupidly.

“I said, I think we should talk. I really do,” the boy emphasized.

“Who are you, anyway?” Mark asked, puzzled.

“Oh, sorry,” the boy apologized. “My name’s Alan Ketchum.”

“Ketchum?” Mark suddenly remembered why the boy’s face was familiar. “As in Ash Ketchum?”

“Er,” said Alan and went beet red. “Yes, kind of.”

“Cool! You’re related to him?” Mark asked excitedly, forgetting all about a murderous Chaletwo.

“Well, yeah,” Alan admitted.

“How are you related to him?” Mark immediately asked.

“Well… he’s kind of… my father. Err…” Alan’s gaze darted awkwardly around; Mark barely noticed it as his mouth fell open.

“You’re his son? You’re Ash Ketchum’s son?” Mark stared open-mouthed at Alan, not sure if it would be appropriate to ask for an autograph or not. Several people heard him and turned around. Alan screwed his eyes hopelessly shut and looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, then grabbed Mark’s shoulders and steered him out of the Pokémon Center.

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked as they came out onto the sidewalk. Alan released him and sighed.

“This happens every time I meet somebody…”

“Oh,” said Mark blankly. “Sorry.”

Alan shrugged. “Well, it’s not your fault. Dad’s famous; of course everybody thinks it’s great to be his son and get a ton of attention.”

“Sorry,” Mark apologized again. “Man, I would love to be his son,” he added after a short pause.

“I doubt it,” Alan just said. “I’m sure having a famous father sounds nice, but when you’ve had a famous father for your whole life, you’re getting very sick of it.”

Mark didn’t answer. After all, he had no experience of it. “Where are we going?” he then asked, noticing that he had been following Alan as he walked down the street.

“Home; we’ll have peace there,” Alan replied.

“Home? You mean to your house?” Mark asked wide-eyed.

“Yes,” Alan answered.

“Your house? As in the one where your father also lives? And Pikachu?”

Alan sighed. “Yes.”

“Wow!” Mark exclaimed, amazed. “Can I see them?”

“Well, Dad is probably working right now – he’s one of the guys organizing the Pokémon Festival. But I suppose Pikachu might be at home, if he was too lazy to come with Dad...”

“Can I pet Pikachu?” Mark interrupted eagerly.

“…because of all the kids asking to pet him,” Alan finished, rolling his eyes. “Look, no offense, but you’re kinda predictable.”

Mark blushed. “Sorry… I just always dreamed of meeting Ash Ketchum…”

“Everybody does,” Alan muttered. “When people meet me, all they want to talk about is him. When people ask me about something, it’s always ‘Why did you stop Pokémon training after two years?’ or ‘Why didn’t you compete in any leagues?’ or ‘Is it true that Pikachu isn’t one of your favorites?’ or something else in the direction of ‘Why aren’t you an exact replica of your father?’… And then everybody thinks I like to have people stare at me just because my father is famous.”

Mark didn’t answer; he felt annoying and stupid.

“Anyway, we’re here.”

Alan stopped in front of a house that was rather normal-looking aside from being bigger than most of the other houses in the area. He stepped up to the door, dug into his pocket to find a key, and inserted it into the lock. After wrestling with the door for a few seconds while muttering some swear words under his breath, Alan opened the door and invited Mark inside.

Mark looked curiously around. The house was somewhat messy, but not exactly a garbage dump either. White walls, mostly green and blue furniture. A ton of photos were hung on the walls, some depicting Ash, some his wife, some Pikachu, some Alan. Both the quality and quantity of the furniture was a bit above what the average person could afford, but not much.

“Here, come on.”

Alan showed Mark into the kitchen, turned the lights on and invited Mark to sit down at the table. He hesitantly took the chair while Alan opened the refrigerator.

“Would you like something?”

“Er… I don’t really need…” Mark replied, mainly just for the sake of being polite.

“Something to drink? Coke? Pepsi?” Alan asked, perhaps feeling that tone in his voice.

“Uh, coke, thanks.”

Alan took out a bottle of coke and fetched two glasses. After pouring the drink into them, he sat down opposite him.

“Anyway…” Mark started after taking a sip of his coke.

“Chaletwo.” Alan finished for him.

“Yeah, did he really kill four kids?”

“Yes.” Alan nodded sadly. “I watched them all.”

“Huh?” Mark asked. “Why the heck did you keep coming back to see an evil, murderous Legendary Pokémon stare somebody to death?”

“He isn’t evil!” Alan protested.

“Killing four random kids sounds evil to me,” Mark said.

“Once you see him, you’ll change your mind,” Alan assured him. “You’ll just know it. It’s impossible that he’d kill those kids just for the sheer purpose of being evil.”

“How do you think you know?” Mark argued.

“It’s just… a fact. I’ve been there to see him every year since I was born. If there is anything in this world I know, it’s that Chaletwo isn’t evil. Trust me.”

They were distracted by a low purr. A big, creamy yellow catlike creature with three stiff whiskers on each side of its muzzle and a gleaming red gem on its forehead trotted into the kitchen. The Persian rubbed itself against Alan’s hand; he scratched its ears in return.

“This is Pamela; she’s my pet Persian. Pamela, this is... uh, what’s your name again?”

“Mark,” he said. Pamela looked suspiciously at him.

“She has a thing about judging people,” Alan explained. “Either she hates you, and will hiss if you come anywhere near her, or… uh oh, I think she likes you. Prepare to be sniffed.”

Pamela walked over to Mark and started sniffing at his shoes. She gradually went up his legs, and then put her front paws on the chair to be able to reach his upper half. After looking him in the eyes for a few seconds with a hypnotizing stare, she lowered herself down again and wrapped her tail around his legs, giving him a “Pet me” look. Alan laughed.

“Umm, yeah,” Mark said in an attempt to start their conversation again as he stroke Pamela’s fur, “what were you going to tell me about Chaletwo?”

“See… oh, hi, Vicky.”

What looked like a black, floating head drifted through the ceiling. First it freaked Mark out; then he realized that it must be a Ghost Pokémon.

The head floated down and started circling Mark, surveying him with curiosity. The Pokémon had long black hair that hovered behind her in uneven, wavy strands, each tipped with red. Red pearls formed a necklace around her neck, which wasn’t connected to a body. Her big red and yellow eyes twinkled.

“This is my Misdreavus, Victoria or Vicky. Vicky, this is Mark,” Alan introduced them.

“Misdree!” squealed the ghost happily. Mark smiled; there was something just funny about a head floating in mid-air looking both creepy and cute.

“Oh, we get no peace…” Alan groaned. Mark turned to see what he was looking at. A Vaporeon, like the one Marge had, was walking into the kitchen. Following it was a green raptor with a bright red belly and dark blue leaves on its hands and head, and a nervous Charmander.

“Um, this is Mist, my Vaporeon, my Grovyle Racko, and Charlie, who was my starter. Guys, this is Mark.”

The Grovyle walked right up to him and grinned.

“Grov,” said the Pokémon in a greeting of some sort, offering his clawed hand. Mark shook it carefully so he wouldn’t cut himself. The Vaporeon started sniffing at his feet like Pamela had, but stopped fairly quickly and curled up on another chair. The Charmander just stood near the wall like he didn’t want to get himself noticed.

“You kept your Charmander unevolved?” Mark asked. “Was it because of your father’s Charizard, or did he himself just not want to evolve?”

To his surprise, both Alan and Charlie blushed.

“Er… not exactly,” Alan muttered. “Charlie… uh, just… show him…”

The lizard took a deep breath, faced Mark and closed his eyes. He immediately took on a bright white glow and started growing. In a matter of seconds, he changed into a Charmeleon. He smiled awkwardly and then started glowing again; as quickly as before, he changed back into a Charmander.

Mark stared.

“Wow,” he breathed. “Can he become a Charizard like that too?”

Alan nodded, still blushing.

“Was he born like that or what?” Mark asked curiously.

“No,” said Alan miserably. “It’s a long story… oh, and that’s Pikachu.”

Mark watched open-mouthed as a well-known yellow rodent stepped inside. Ash Ketchum’s Pikachu. Mark couldn’t believe it. One of Pikachu’s long, black-tipped ears stood straight up, but the other was almost horizontal, indicating slight surprise. He looked between Mark and Alan, seemingly puzzled.

“Pika?” he asked quizzically. Pamela, who had been sleeping on the floor, looked grudgingly up and walked out of the kitchen with her tail in the air. Pikachu sneered after her.

“Erm, Pikachu, this is Mark,” said Alan. “Mark, this is Pikachu.”

“I know this is Pikachu!” Mark replied, still staring at the yellow mouse Pokémon. “Who do you think I am?!”

Pikachu stepped closer to him and tilted his head. Mark reached out with his hand, not really thinking; he just wanted to get to touch the most famous Pokémon in the world…

“Mark,” Alan whispered, “you smell of Pamela.”

Mark didn’t realize his point until it was too late. Upon smelling his hand, Pikachu released an electric shock from the red pouches on his cheeks. The electricity coursed through Mark’s body; he stiffened up for a second and managed to fall out of his chair.

“Pikachu!” Alan scolded, still unable to contain his laughter. “Shocking people is rude! When are you going to grow out of it?”

Mark crawled back onto his chair. “Ow…” he muttered. “That… hurt…”

“Piii,” said Pikachu, scratching his head.

“Sorry about that,” said Alan, laughing. “He’s never liked Meowth, so he wasn’t very happy when Dad bought a pet Meowth for me. Then she evolved, and now they’re full-fledged rivals. Hate anything having to do with each other.”

“Oh.” Mark paused. “What were you saying about Chaletwo, anyway?”

“Oh, yes… see… the four kids had something in common.” Alan was slowly getting back to the dark expression he had worn in the Pokémon Center.

“What?” asked Mark.

“They wanted to catch him.”

Mark choked on his coke. “What?” he spluttered out. “You go around saying Chaletwo is oh-so-nice, and next thing you tell me is that he kills people for something that isn’t even conscious? You’re contradicting yourself.”

“I said that was the reason I went back to see him all those years and will do the same now. You, on the other hand, apparently like legendaries, and looked very taken aback when you saw the poster, so you are definitely within the high-risk group. Can you tell me honestly whether you want to capture Chaletwo? Just whether you want it, regardless of the fact that it’s impossible and all that?”

Mark considered this question with a knot in his stomach. He couldn’t deny it to himself.

“I’d want to catch any legendary… but I still think it’s wrong to do so.”

Alan grinned. “Look who’s contradicting himself now.”

“It’s not the same!” said Mark, frustrated. “I’m not contradicting myself; I’m saying that my conscious and subconscious minds don’t agree!”

“Well, either way,” said Alan, now serious again, “I suggest that you don’t watch Chaletwo if you don’t want your name on the poster next year.”

Mark gulped down some more coke. He really wanted to see Chaletwo. After all, he had thought Suicune was a crazy killer… but Chaletwo was a real one…

“Is there any way I can see Chaletwo without the danger of getting killed?”

“Not really,” said Alan. “What kills is supposedly not looking into his eyes, just having him direct his eyes at you. Nobody knows whether Chaletwo can kill through video cameras, and nobody has wanted to test that so it’s not aired on TV anymore. But of course… you can probably make yourself a bit safer by concentrating on the risk and not allowing yourself to want to catch him.”

Mark still felt uncomfortable about this, but something made him really want to try, however crazy it was – it was like something pushed away his fear and told him that he had to see Chaletwo, no matter the cost.

“I think I’ll try that,” he heard his mouth say.

“I really, really think you should just forget about it, though,” said Alan worriedly.

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Mark said, more trying to assure himself than Alan. “I don’t even really want to catch him that much. Just see him.” He wasn’t sure if this was true. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

“Well…” Alan sounded nervous, “good luck.”

“Thanks for telling me all this,” Mark said. “Oh, yeah,” he mentioned, looking at Charlie, who was still standing by the wall, “what is that long story of Charlie?”

“Er…” Alan blushed yet again, “do you know about Molzapart?”

“Yeah?”

“Well… er, see, I guess it all started when I was nine. I had a dream one night where Molzapart was talking to Dad. I didn’t hear what Molzapart said, though. I told Dad about the dream, and he told me that he had also dreamt Molzapart, and Molzapart had talked to him. I asked what Molzapart had said, but he told me that it was a secret and he mustn’t tell anybody, not even me. So basically, I just forgot about it. Well, then I started my Pokémon journey when I got ten, Dad gave me a Charmander, I named him Charlie and headed out. I caught… erm, a Pokémon, and then one day Charlie evolved. He didn’t want to evolve, but we couldn’t stop it so he evolved, and… um, well, then I was training with… er, my Pokémon, and… well, Molzapart appeared to me. And he said that… er, he needed my Pokémon for something, and in return he would devolve Charlie. So he did, but Charlie ended up with that ability. So… yeah.”

“Huh?” asked Mark, confused. “I didn’t get one word of that.”

Alan sighed. “You know, Rick? The Cleanwater City Gym Leader? His first Legendaries were Raikou, Entei and Suicune. He made an attempt to clone them and modify their genes, crazily trying to fuse them into one. The embryo apparently died, and Rick… well, threw it out.”

Mark nodded. He remembered hearing a vaguer version of this story sometime.

“Well, ‘Rainteicune’ either wasn’t dead or was somehow brought back to life.”

“Wait a minute,” asked Mark in disbelief, “you’re saying you caught a Raikou, Entei and Suicune super-clone fusion?”

“Well,” said Alan, blushing yet again, “not a super-clone. Just a slightly more powerful clone. And he was just a cub, really,” he added. “Well, either way, I took him to Dad – he was really cute and I didn’t know what he was – and naturally Dad was freaked. He took him to Gary Oak to do some research on him, but then he was already attached to me, so they asked me just to keep him.

“Well, then, a while later, Charlie fainted in a battle. When I took him to the Pokémon Center, he regained consciousness when nobody was with him and started to evolve, and because he was still really weak and hadn’t gotten any medicine, he couldn’t resist the evolution. Because he didn’t want to evolve, he got a bit depressed – well, very depressed – and I started keeping him more and more inside his Pokéball, using Rainteicune instead. When people asked me what he was, I just claimed he was newly discovered and nobody questioned me further because, well, after all I am Ash Ketchum’s son. Only time that’s done me any good, but anyway…

“Then, one day, I was training in the mountains, and I saw Molzapart. He flew to me, and naturally I was really scared and all, but he told me to wait so I stopped. Molzapart explained that Rainteicune was a Legendary even if he was man-made and he should be wild – he was pretty grown up then, too – but because I really loved Rainteicune, he offered to devolve Charlie instead. In order to do that, he needed to get energy for his technique Devolution Beam, and this energy had to be gotten from another living creature. He therefore used something called Power Drain on Rainteicune – which must have been horrible; he was in real pain – and then used Devolution Beam on Charlie, but it turned out that because Rainteicune was a modified clone fusion, it didn’t have the effect it was supposed to have. Instead, it made his form unstable so that he started to randomly evolve and devolve at the unlikeliest moments, but we didn’t find out about that yet since it appeared to have worked.

“Anyway, I released Rainteicune, who was very hurt from that Power Drain thing but Molzapart said that he would be all right, and he went away with Molzapart. Then we discovered Charlie’s instability, and first I thought it would be even worse, but Charlie started gaining control of it after a few days, and now he can evolve and devolve as he wants. So yeah, that’s how it happened.”

There was a long silence after this story. Mark, naturally, was amazed. Charlie appeared to have discovered something very interesting about the wall. Alan just sat there awkwardly, every now and then lifting his glass to drink. After a while, Mark looked at his watch.

“Um, my friend went to the Gym and she must have finished the battle by now… thanks for the story, though. And the coke.”

Alan suddenly seemed to snap out of a trance. “Wait!” he said worriedly. “I’ve told you way too much – I don’t even know you – you won’t tell anybody about Rainteicune or anything, will you? I might just have saved your life and all.”

“Of course I won’t,” Mark said simply. “Oh, yeah – thanks for the warning too.”

Alan smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“Bye,” said Mark as he stood up before leaving the house.

He was deep in thought.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Ash's Pikachu is very out of character in this and I am disappoint. Unfortunately, this was written before the eighth movie came out, wherein Pikachu and Team Rocket's Meowth spend a fair bit of time together and Pikachu is perfectly friendly towards him the whole time (it's very good and you should watch the eighth movie); I was just going off Pikachu usually being hostile towards Team Rocket within (the first 52 episodes of) the show, and I guess his attitude towards Ash in the very first episode.

Wanting to catch legendary Pokémon should not actually be a remotely normal thing in this universe, subconscious or not. Legendaries are seen as important, and having important roles to play in the world - and capturing is a ritual way for a wild Pokémon to test the skills of a trainer before joining them. Legendaries don't need or want trainers, and would not consent to being captured; all in all, capturing a legendary in a ball should be generally regarded as a thing only some kind of sinister villain would do - which is what the fic has already been doing with Mew, with Rick and the Mew Hunter wanting to capture him but Mark immediately releasing him. Of course kids would dream about somehow befriending a legendary and getting their blessing, but capture? The idea that Mark just has some weird subconscious drive to want to catch a legendary anyway, in that context, is really weird, and it will be subtly retconned much later.

Alan is the main character (for some value of main character) of my very first Pokémon fanfic, a sort of prototype of The Quest for the Legends, called Molzapart and Rainteicune, and the bizarre meandering story he tells Mark about Charlie is the main story (as it were) of that fic. It's even more wild than it sounds, and goes off on some much wilder tangents; I recommend checking it out for a laugh. There was literally no point to retelling it here; Charlie's ability to evolve and devolve at will is going to get like one more mention ever, and zero actual relevance, but I didn't know that at the time because at this point I had no actual idea how the plot would shake out. I would also go on to try hard to make you forget Rainteicune is a thing, though he does get brought up a couple of times.

 

[Dragonfree]

We kick of the first of the fic's three specially labeled five-chapter arcs, the Pokémon Festival, with a fun family event where people throw rocks at Pokémon.

The Pokémon Festival – May 21st: Evolution​

​

Mark was nervous.

He hadn’t told May anything about where he had been; he had just claimed he had been “doing stuff”. Her being her, she didn’t question him about that. They had then spent the rest of the day reading the posters in the Pokémon Center, deciding which events they wanted to attend over the next four days and signing up for them. Mark couldn’t concentrate on anything; all he could think about was why Chaletwo would kill people for wanting to catch him – he couldn’t help wondering why only one person each year had wanted to catch a Legendary Pokémon. Even if Alan said it, and even if he was Ash Ketchum’s son and all, it just didn’t make sense. There was no way anybody who stood in front of Chaletwo with a Pokéball wouldn’t want to throw it. And if that wasn’t the reason, what was it then?

He also wondered about Alan’s claim that Chaletwo “couldn’t” be evil. That made no sense either, unless Alan could read Chaletwo’s mind. And Mark just couldn’t figure out in what other way Alan could have just “known” that Chaletwo wasn’t evil. Maybe he was just biased or something… but why would he be biased in favor of a murderous Legendary Pokémon?

Whatever he started thinking, it always ended in a cold shiver running down his spine as he came to some creepy conclusion. He had not had much of an appetite for the rest of the day, and had then had a very hard time sleeping. When he did fall asleep, he dreamt nothing but glowing yellow eyes and the four pearly ghosts of the kids Chaletwo had killed. He felt no better now, as he lay awake in his bed in the Pokémon Center, his mind still revolving around Chaletwo.

There was a knock on the door. “Mark? We have to be at the evolution-thingy in an hour. If you’re still asleep, wake up already, and if you’re just sitting there doing nothing, get a move on.”

Mark groaned, slowly getting up. Today there was something that had the cliché name of “The Evolution Solution”. It was for trainers with Pokémon who evolved by evolution stones; Mark had spoken to Eevee and he had decided that he was ready for evolution.

After Mark fastened his Pokéball belt around his waist, he hesitated, but then took Eevee’s ball. He looked at it for a few seconds. “Go, Eevee,” he then said absent-mindedly, dropping the ball onto the floor. The brown furball materialized out of red light and looked up at Mark.

“This is your day,” Mark said. Eevee just nodded unsurely.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Mark asked, concerned. “We can still quit.”

“I think so,” said Eevee nervously. “Does it hurt to evolve?”

Mark recalled his conversation with Charmeleon after evolution. “Well, Charmeleon said it mainly felt amazing… but he did mention a bit of pain at one point, yes. He spoke of it like it was very little, though, so it’s probably not that bad.”

Eevee thought a bit. “I – I think I’m ready…”

“Are you sure you want to evolve now?” asked Mark softly.

Eevee swallowed, collecting his courage for a second, but then replied: “Yes.”

“All right.” Mark smiled. “I’m sure it won’t be so bad.” He paused. “Would you feel better if you got to be out of your Pokéball for a while?”

Eevee nodded slightly; Mark bent down and picked him up. His fur was so soft; Mark realized sadly that he could probably never stroke it again.

“Mark, are you coming?” came May’s annoyed voice from outside the room. He adjusted Eevee in his arms so that he could unlock the door and open it. May was tapping her foot impatiently.

“Finally,” she grumbled, but still took the time to smile at Eevee and stroke his bushy tail. He soon fell asleep in Mark’s arms, like he just wanted to be comfortable for his last hour of being an Eevee. Mark felt odd; he kind of wanted to quit suddenly now, but Eevee had made his decision.

“Why aren’t you entering Pikachu, anyway?” Mark asked May, curious. “Doesn’t Pikachu evolve with a Thunderstone?”

“Yeah,” May answered, “but once Pikachu evolves, it loses almost all of its ability to learn new techniques. So in the long run it’s a big disadvantage to evolve a Pikachu too soon.”

Mark hesitated before daring to ask the next question: “What does he think?”

May shrugged. “I don’t know. Haven’t asked.”

Mark wasn’t feeling nosy enough to comment on that further, besides that May had always done him the favor of not asking too much; instead, he just changed the subject. “Are we getting breakfast anywhere?” he asked in spite of himself; he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to eat much either way.

“We can pick something up at a fast food restaurant,” said May. “Then we have to be at the Green Town Stadium an hour before it actually starts so that you can confirm that you’re entering Eevee, and then… well, I don’t know what exactly happens then. We’ll find out. Somehow Eevee gets evolved, and we can relax for the rest of the day.”

“Okay,” Mark replied. He shot a glance at Eevee; he was still fast asleep, purring softly.

-------

“Are you signed up for the Evolution Solution?”

A green-haired woman with butterfly-shaped pink glasses asked this question politely with a smile pasted over her face. Mark was probably one of the first people to arrive; at least no line had formed yet, which wasn’t that surprising considering that even with the rule of entrants having to arrive an hour before it actually started, they were very early.

“Yeah, Eevee is entered,” he replied through the hole in the glass that separated the gray outside world from the woman’s booth. “The name is Mark Greenlet.”

The woman turned to her computer and entered something. She peered uninterestedly at the screen and then stretched out her hand without looking at Mark.

“The entrant, please.”

Mark cautiously woke Eevee up. The Pokémon looked noticeably more content than he had before; Mark still felt a little twinge of guilt.

“Are you still positive you want to go on with this?”

“Vi,” Eevee yawned, stretching. Mark nodded slowly, taking the Pokéball and touching the Pokémon so that it dissolved into red light. As Eevee was zapped into the ball, Mark realized with sadness that he would never hold Eevee again.

The woman still waited, her chin resting in her palm as the other arm, still outstretched through the hole in the glass barrier, moved impatiently. Mark slowly minimized the Pokéball and put it in her hand; the pale, delicate fingers closed around the sphere and she looked uninterestedly at it before putting it under a tube connected to the computer. She pronouncedly pressed a key, and the ball was sucked up into the end of the tube.

“Here,” she said, fetching two buckets from under her desk and handing them to Mark through the glass. He curiously read off one of the buckets:

EVOLUTION STONES – FULL SET

“Why are you giving us the evolution stones?” May snorted from behind Mark. “Are we supposed to throw them at the Pokémon or what?”

“That’s the basic idea, yes,” said the woman coldly. May shoved Mark aside to speak to the woman directly.

“What? We’re supposed to go in there and throw rocks at our own damn Pokémon? That’s totally barbaric!”

“You might want to keep your temper a little bit until you’ve heard the full story,” the woman replied calmly. “Your Pokémon will now, with the aid of the Baton Pass technique and some of our special Pokémon, get their defensive abilities strengthened to the point that they wouldn’t feel a Snorlax stomping on them. We guarantee that to your Pokémon, this will simply be a game, and everything would be much easier if you would just look at it the same way.”

“Oh…” said May blankly. “Well, then it’s not that bad, I guess.”

“It certainly isn’t,” the woman stated, somehow not sounding convincing. “Also,” she continued as she observed her long, perfect, blood red fingernails, “as a safety precaution, we will keep your other Pokémon until the Evolution Solution is over.”

She took out two empty, white Pokéball trays from a big stack beside her and handed them to Mark and May. They took out all their Pokéballs just as a blond-haired boy sped up to them. He ran right into May’s back, and she fell over. Mark was reminded of when he himself had met her for the second time, and smiled as May stood up, muttering swear words under her breath.

“Look what you’ve done!” she snapped at the boy. “My Pokéballs are all over!”

She started picking up the spheres that were rolling around on the ground.

“Sorry,” the boy panted. “Mine fell too.”

He also started picking up the Pokéballs while May groaned.

“Just great! Now we need to send out all the Pokémon to know whose are whose!”

“No need for it,” said the woman in the booth calmly. “We do an ID check on all the Pokémon before giving them back to you, anyway.”

“Oh… all right.” May took the nearest six balls and placed them in the Pokéball tray, handing it to the woman. She glared nastily at the boy, who was still picking up his Pokéballs, as they continued into the stadium.

The stadium itself was medium-sized and rather plain; it had standard Pokémon arena markings and many rows of seats. There were a few people already there, but not many. Mark and May found themselves good seats and then just sat and waited as time passed and the seats around them gradually filled up.

This whole thing was a temporary distraction from anything having to do with Chaletwo; however, Eevee had taken his place as what kept haunting Mark as he sat in his seat and waited for the Evolution Solution to start. Maybe he was just paranoid, but if he were subjected to something that was supposed to make him not feel if a rock hit him in the head, he would be very nervous and constantly afraid it would wear off or not work or something. Was Eevee feeling the same? Was he perhaps now wishing that he had just said ‘no’ when Mark asked him if this was what he really wanted? And what if the stones did hurt him?

But Mark could only wait. It seemed like ages until finally, the crowded stadium silenced and the Pokémon stepped in.

They were all kinds of stone-evolving Pokémon. There weren’t that many Eevee seeing as most would rather choose their own evolution, and Mark also noticed that Pikachu were somewhat in a minority – there were too many Ash Ketchum wannabes in the world. Some of the Pokémon looked a bit nervous; others just seemed excited. Mark noticed one of the Eevee looking up at him; he wasn’t sure if it was really his Eevee, but he waved slightly anyway.

“Well, the rules of this game are simple,” boomed a voice over the stadium. “You throw the stones at the Pokémon, and once a Pokémon evolves, it will also help throwing the stones that you didn’t hit with. The game goes on until all the Pokémon have evolved. The stones will absolutely not hurt your Pokémon, so don’t worry! You may now start throwing!”

The crowd excitedly started opening buckets. Mark wasn’t going to throw any stones; May opened her bucket, took out a lime green, smooth stone with a yellow lightning bolt shape inside it, and put it in her pocket – admittedly half of the stone was still poking out. All around them, people were throwing evolution stones down into the arena.

The Pokémon scattered, trying to get away from the rain of evolution stones despite knowing that in the end they would get evolved no matter what. All of the stones at first either missed and fell to the ground or hit Pokémon that they didn’t affect; the claim that the Pokémon wouldn’t be hurt was proven when a Growlithe that got hit by a Thunderstone shook it off easily. The first Pokémon that evolved, however, was a Pikachu that tripped over a Thunderstone lying on the ground. When the rodent came into contact with the mineral, it became enveloped in a white glow as it lay sprawled on the ground and grew, its ears becoming butterfly-shaped, the tail threadlike with a lightning bolt on the end, and the general shape more chubby. The glow faded, and the newly-evolved, orange-colored Raichu stood up. Some people in the crowd cheered.

The Raichu spotted a green, fossil-like stone with a leaf pattern in it, grabbed it and hurled it at a nearby Weepinbell. The Leaf Stone hit, and the green bell-shaped plant Pokémon started glowing white; its body lengthened and a leaf with a long stalk grew on its back. When the white light faded away, the Victreebel was upside-down; the Raichu helped turn it over, and then Victreebel smacked its leaf into a bright yellow, flame-like stone so that it hit a reddish brown fox Pokémon with six curly tails – a Vulpix. Mark watched it evolve, growing three more tails as the others straightened, and become a creamy yellow Ninetales.

The Pokémon were evolving faster now. Mark saw an Eevee being hit by a blue stone and evolving into a Vaporeon as the Raichu who first evolved offered a Thunderstone to another Eevee. He saw two Flareon at a glance, but as far as he could see, there were no unevolved Eevee left. His stomach churned uncomfortably; his second Pokémon ever had evolved now. There was no turning back.

A weary, golden starfish Pokémon with a ruby core was finally now hit by a Water Stone; once it had changed into a purple, ten-armed Starmie, there were only two unevolved Pokémon left, both of them being chased by some of the evolved ones. One was a Growlithe who was clearly enjoying himself a lot; the other was a Pikachu who wasn’t enjoying it at all – it was in fact giving off flurries of electricity as if to fend the others off. Most of them stopped when they saw this, but some were still following it determinedly.

“That’s my Pikachu!” May suddenly realized.

Mark’s eyes widened. “The guy who bumped into you must have intended to enter his own Pikachu, and they just used a Pokédex to identify the Pokémon inside… so after the balls got mixed up, he entered your Pikachu without knowing it wasn’t his…”

“Pikachu, come up here! It’s a misunderstanding!” May called out to her Pokémon. A few people turned around to see what was going on; Pikachu, now the only unevolved Pokémon in the arena as the Growlithe had given up just a second earlier, answered with a quick ‘Pika!’ and then hurried upwards past the first rows of seats. Once he came to the row that Mark and May were sitting in, he ran quickly past all the feet and finally jumped into his trainer’s lap, exhausted.

Then he started emitting a bright white glow as Mark noticed that he had accidentally touched the Thunderstone halfway down May’s pocket.

Everybody’s eyes were on the blue-haired girl whose Pikachu apparently shouldn’t have been there but was still somehow evolving now. She just watched, stunned, as Pikachu grew into a Raichu like the first one to evolve.

“Rai,” said Raichu, scratching his head.

“Oh,” said May blankly. “No more attacks for you, I guess.”

May could be so strange. Mark knew that if there was one thing he would not care about if this had happened to his Pokémon, it was whether it would learn some attacks or not.

“Well,” May sighed, “guess this event isn’t going to be any longer.”

“It looks like all the Pokémon have evolved – and we even got to see an interesting twist at the end! We would like to wish you all to return any evolution stones you may not have used at the entrance. Goodbye, and enjoy the rest of the Pokémon Festival!” came the booming voice.

-------

“The name is Mark Greenlet – I’d like to get my Pokémon.”

The same woman from earlier sternly handed Mark his Pokéball tray. He attached the balls carefully to his belt; then he had to move out of the line. May had already gotten her Pokémon sorted out, and they walked off.

“What did Eevee evolve into, anyway?” May asked curiously.

“Didn’t check yet,” Mark admitted, blushing. He stopped and took out Eevee’s Pokéball. He took a deep breath.

“Go.”

Mark dropped the ball. A beam of white light shot out of it and took shape into something with a catlike head, long rabbit-like ears…

And covered in spikes.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

In the original version of the fic, Eevee had already evolved long before this point (before Rick's gym!), so this festival event was originally just twelve-year-old me thinking throwing evolution stones at Pokémon sounded awesome and wanting to write a bit of drama with May's Pikachu getting mixed in by mistake. The way the mixup happens is incredibly dumb, though - the idea nobody checks whose Pokémon are supposed to be entered, and Pikachu can't just go "Uh, what's going on, I'm not supposed to be here" sometime while they're buffing him up with Baton Pass, is extremely contrived.

Mark is still bizarrely asserting surely anyone would want to throw a Pokéball at Chaletwo and it is baffling.

 

[Panoramic_Vacuum]

Chapter seventeen! Featuring the first of my elemental towns, Sharpedo brutality, and a jarring comedy routine.

Chapter 17: The Shark and the Serpent​

View attachment 1550​

When Mark exited the gym, he noticed that May wasn’t there. Even as he continued down the road, he saw no traces of her. He assumed she had continued to Aquarium City.

Aquarium City was probably the town that Mark had looked forward to seeing the most when he’d started his journey. It was the first and only underwater city in the Pokémon world. Covered in a gigantic glass dome, the city’s oxygen came from plants specifically arranged to keep a healthy balance of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the air. It was first and foremost a tourist attraction; it was generally considered a dodgy place to live, mainly because the thought of living underwater with only a glass dome to protect oneself from the Gyarados and Sharpedo outside and one’s life depending on some calculations about the oxygen percentage didn’t appeal to many people. Nonetheless, the tourists loved it – especially because it had an official Pokémon gym.

“Hey, wait!”

Mark turned around. The Mutark guy, Victor, was running after him.

“What?”

Victor looked around. “Where’s May? The girl?”

“She went on to Aquarium City,” Mark answered. “Why?”

“Oh,” said Victor, scratching his head. “Er… you know Mitch?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied, puzzled.

“Do you know what they say about him?”

Mark shook his head.

“Well – according to the rumours, he’s a psychic of sorts. They say he can foresee deaths and stuff, and, uh… are you going to join up with May again?”

“Huh?” asked Mark, not sure what Victor was getting at.

“I mean, will you meet her sometime? I need to… er, give her some tips on catching a Mutark.” His gaze darted to the sides; he was obviously a very bad liar, but Mark wasn’t the type to point that out so he ignored it.

“Well, I’ll probably meet her at Aquarium City, but to be honest I don’t know if she’s going to come with me from there or anything.”

“Right,” said Victor. “Hey, will you be attending the Pokémon Festival?”

“What festival?” Mark asked curiously.

“The festival in Green Town – the one they have every year based around Chaletwo’s arrival.”

“Oh – I didn’t know they had a festival,” Mark replied, blushing slightly. He felt stupid.

“Well, I’m going, of course – I want to see Chaletwo, he’s a Dark type – and she is likely to, since she doesn’t seem the type to miss it, so will you?”

“Of course,” Mark answered brightly. “I love Legendary Pokémon; I’d never miss that in my life.”

“We’ll meet there, then,” Victor said, holding out his hand.

“Sure,” Mark replied, shaking it.

“Good. Bye, then,” said Victor, smiling as he turned back towards Scorpio City. “See you.”

Mark had slightly disliked him earlier, but he seemed like a nice guy after all. Now Mark knew about the Pokémon festival. He looked forward to it, especially getting to witness Chaletwo’s appearance. Of course, there were probably fun tournaments and such, too…

-------

It wasn’t a long way to Merville, a tiny village near the seaside. Old-fashioned houses were spread irregularly around. A lot of them seemed deserted, giving the village a glum atmosphere. A dirty shop stood just by the harbor, looking just as deserted as the empty houses, but nonetheless had a big OPEN sign in the window. Above the door, it said “Underwater Equipment”.

Mark walked up to the wooden door and grabbed the doorknob. It was open. He stepped carefully inside.

A bearded, middle-aged man leaned onto the counter, looking asleep. As soon as Mark came in, however, he sprang up and was instantly by his side.

“A customer! What can I do for you? Headed to Aquarium City, are you? Then you’re in the right place! We’ve got everything, all 100% organic!”

“Er,” Mark just stammered.

“You’ll need an H2Oxy 3000; these things allow you to breathe underwater,” the clerk said, reaching for a small mask-like object on a shelf. “You put it on like this,” he put it on to cover his nose and mouth, then quickly took it off again as it appeared to prevent him from breathing, “and it will work oxygen out of the water. Clever, isn’t it?”

“Are you sure it... works?” asked Mark skeptically. The shopkeeper shrugged. “It should work.”

He stuffed it into Mark’s arms and started searching for something else on the shelf.

“Let’s see... you’ll need an Aqua compass. It always points at Aquarium City.” He showed Mark a compass which, unless Mark was very much mistaken, pointed straight west, back to Scorpio City. The guy seemed to realize that too, since he shrugged again and threw it into the garbage. “Well, this spray will make you completely water-repellant.” He sprayed something that smelled like cardboard all over Mark. He coughed.

“Then there’s the Sharpedo-ward,” the shopkeeper continued eagerly, taking out a bottle containing a black, suspicious-looking liquid. “If you open it in the water, it will send any Sharpedo swimming! And there’s a special rock here to be able to sink easier. I’m sure you’ll visit again, buddy? I’m always ready at hand! Now, in total, this will be, uh…” He counted on his fingers. “…9,999 Pokédollars.”

“What?” Mark asked, nonetheless finding the guy a bit funny. “I’m not going to buy it all… I think I’ll just go with the H2Oxy-thing, and, um, do you have a Dive HM?” He put the rock and the Sharpedo-ward down.

“You already used the water-repelling spray!” the man complained.

“That’s stupid, I didn’t ask for it,” Mark argued. The shopkeeper sighed.

“All right then.” He handed Mark a CD case. “Your ID number?”

Mark reached for his Pokédex. “0439522166,” he read from the screen. The shopkeeper entered it into the computer and mumbled: “You’re not getting any for the way back.” Mark ignored him and walked out of the shop.

Outside, he noticed a sailor who hadn’t been there before. He was a tall, muscular man and was just standing there looking blankly into the air. When Mark came out, the sailor turned around.

“Hey. Kid. Battle?”

Mark shrugged. “If you want.”

“One on one,” said the sailor and threw a Pokéball into the harbor. The red energy materialized into a blue shark-like Pokémon; it had no tail, but a yellow star shape on its head.

“Sharr,” it growled.

Mark decided that Gyarados would most likely be his best bet for this; he had also not gotten to battle much lately, because pretty much only gym arenas had pools for non-amphibious Water Pokémon.

“Go, Gyarados!” The sea monster came out of the Pokéball into the calm sea. He dove into it and seemed to enjoy the water judging from the low, purr-like growls he was producing.

“Sharpedo, Crunch!” ordered the sailor. The shark immediately lunged at Gyarados and sank its fangs into his white tail fin. He roared in pain and tried to shake Sharpedo off; it still held on. Gyarados slammed his tail against the harbor wall, Sharpedo still stuck on. Receiving a harsh blow, the shark let go of his tail. Blood oozed out, making the water slightly murkier. Mark bit his lip; he just hoped Gyarados wasn’t too hurt.

“Another Crunch, Sharpedo!” the sailor shouted, and his Pokémon darted towards Gyarados’s tail again. This time, however, the monster just let the shark bite him. He waited perfectly still, obviously in pain, but didn’t move.

“Let him go!” said the sailor desperately. Mark first wondered why; then he remembered one of the things he had managed to register in Pokémonology: Sharpedo always had to keep swimming forward so that water would flow through their gills. If they were held in place, they could suffocate…

“Return,” said the sailor, holding out his Pokéball to recall Sharpedo. The shark disappeared in a beam of red light.

“You ought to teach your Gyarados some manners,” the sailor commented coldly. “That’s a monster.”

“Sorry,” Mark just muttered as he recalled Gyarados.

“I could sue your pants off, you know,” the sailor continued. “And have your Gyarados disposed of for breaking the Agreement.”

“I know,” said Mark miserably. He had no idea why Gyarados had tried to literally drown the Sharpedo – and he had been too stunned to recall him.

“But I’ll let you slide this time, just because I don’t have the time,” the sailor said as he turned around and walked into the village again.

Mark stared blankly at nothing for a few seconds before realizing what he was supposed to be doing. He released Gyarados from his Pokéball again and took out the CD he had bought earlier.

“Gyarados, you’ll need to learn Dive so we can get to Aquarium City,” Mark explained, holding the disc forward. Gyarados touched it lightly with his forehead, and the disc’s deep blue color ripped loose from it and sank into his body. He shook himself slightly, and then nodded.

“Okay, great,” Mark said nervously. “Now I need to get on your back, I guess.”

Gyarados obediently swam nearer to the bank and turned his side towards Mark. He walked unsurely to the edge of the concrete, not sure exactly how to mount Gyarados. Finally, he just grabbed the dragon’s head tightly with his arms and somehow managed to use the plates that stuck out on either side of the first segment of armor as footing while he sat in front of the first fin.

“Is this okay, Gyarados?” he asked, worried that it might be uncomfortable for the sea serpent. He just nodded slightly.

“All right…” Mark took out the H2Oxy and held it in his hand. “Be ready to dive, Gyarados… one, two… THREE!”

He took a deep breath and put on the H2Oxy as Gyarados dove under the surface. Holding on for dear life, Mark felt like he was in some kind of a rollercoaster with very sub-par seats that additionally included the thrill of not knowing whether one would drown in it or not.

He was relieved to find that the H2Oxy did work; while breathing was a bit harder than on dry land, he could manage this way. The water repel-spray apparently also worked, as he didn’t seem to be getting wet. Mark also discovered that it had been a mistake not to buy the Sharpedo-ward.

It was probably the smell of Gyarados’s blood in the water that attracted them; at least they looked like they were expecting some easy prey. There were around ten of those sharks like the one the sailor had, and they all stared murderously at Mark and Gyarados.

The dragon shook Mark off and darted at the Sharpedo. They scattered, but for some reason he kept on chasing one of them in particular and, to Mark’s great disgust, caught it. Gyarados, having locked his jaws securely around the shark’s body, started shaking it vigorously until he ripped a bit of flesh apart from the body and swallowed it. Catching the slowly sinking corpse again, he took some more. Now the scene was getting shrouded in the Sharpedo’s blood, saving Mark from having to see any more Sharpedo innards.

It wasn’t long until Gyarados appeared to have finished all that was edible of the Sharpedo, since he came swimming back to Mark like nothing had happened. Mark wanted to say something, but was unable to because they were in the water. He got uneasily on Gyarados’s back again, and they continued towards the distant light that was Aquarium City.

The Sharpedo appeared to have learned their lesson and didn’t bother Mark and Gyarados further. He was fascinated by a group of cute, light blue seahorses called Horsea and the larger, more vicious Seadra leading them; the Horsea fluttered their tiny, wing-like fins and managed to swim very cutely that way, while the Seadra flapped its spiked fins slowly and gracefully, ready to defend the young ones. After the Horsea swam past, Mark noticed what looked like a swimming rock. Then he realized that it was a rock-like fish Pokémon.

Various Pokémonology lessons whirred past; then finally this Pokémon’s identity clunked into place. It was a Relicanth, and they were…

“Incredibly rare!” Mark mouthed behind the H2Oxy. He prodded Gyarados’s head slightly and pointed at the ancient fish. The message was understood; Gyarados darted at the Relicanth and grabbed it by the tail. The fish, however, quickly started glowing red as it summoned some large rocks from different directions that smashed into the sea monster’s head. He was knocked unconscious by the blow, and the Relicanth managed to disappear, very quickly for a Rock type.

Mark had no choice but to recall Gyarados, and now he was in trouble. This had clearly been a very powerful Relicanth to beat Gyarados in one hit and be so strangely fast. Now he had no Pokémon to Dive on, so he’d have to swim all the way to Aquarium City.

He started swimming a bit, but the lights of the city never seemed to draw any nearer. He had to rest after a short while, and discovered then to his horror that the Sharpedo had noticed that Gyarados was unable to battle. Their shadows steadily grew closer…

Mark was basically panicking when suddenly, what seemed at first to be another Gyarados shot forward and started fighting the sharks off. The Sharpedo quickly realized that they didn’t stand a chance and disappeared.

Mark’s savior now turned gently around. It was not a Gyarados, but it was another sea serpent – this one had a more draconic head, and a sleeker, darker body. Nothing at all could be read from the expression in its deep, black eyes.

Then it neared him, and came close to his face. It tilted its head slightly while examining him thoroughly; he hardly dared to breathe through the H2Oxy. Then, slowly and gracefully, it turned its side towards him in what was clearly a gesture for him to mount it.

The monster blinked. Mark guessed he didn’t have much of a choice, whatever the Pokémon’s intent was; the Sharpedo could come back if he tried to swim by himself. Trembling, he wrapped his arms around the creature’s scaly neck; there was something so comfortable and motherly about it that he felt safe if he only held on to it well enough…

The dragon shot quickly through the water, so smoothly that Mark barely felt it. He lost all sense of time clinging on to the creature’s neck, but after some amount of time, they came to a halt. The gigantic glass dome that covered Aquarium City was ahead; beautiful lights from the inside illuminated the sea next to it and just two meters away was the entrance to the tube that led inside.

Mark got off the monster’s back and dragged himself exhaustedly in through the door. Suddenly he remembered that he had never heard of this Pokémon before; he quickly took his Pokédex off his belt and pointed it out at the sea serpent.

“Monarking, monster Pokémon. This very rare, aquatic Pokémon is said to be somewhat magical and is highly intelligent. They are said to occasionally help humans whose lives are in danger.”

He slowly put the Pokédex down. The Monarking outside the glass gave him a slow nod, and then swam away. Mark lost sight of it as it blended into the color of the ocean around it.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Ah, yes, the chapter where Mark is completely unaware of the major festival that hosts the starter Pokémon giveaway that he spent years looking forward to going to. This definitely makes sense.

The Victor conversation happened in the previous versions, but then it wasn't a pretext for Victor to explain what Mitch told him (because there Mitch hadn't told him anything at the end of last chapter). However, despite Mark explicitly realizing Victor is lying about why he wants to see May, he reacts just as nonchalantly to him and the prospect of meeting up with him again at the Pokémon Festival as in the previous versions where he wasn't being shifty at all. It's also pretty glaring in this version that Victor could just, you know, tell Mark right now and then ask him to pass it on to May if he sees her again, instead of being cryptic and insisting he'll only tell them at the festival. More excellent revision choices by fourteen-year-old me.

Gotta love Mark just kind of brushing aside Gyarados using a potentially lethal tactic and not mentioning it when he sends him out again a minute later, and then Gyarados kills and eats a Sharpedo in front of him and he's just "Well, I can't talk underwater, so I guess we won't talk about this either." Solid choices.

The featured fakemon in this chapter, Monarking, was originally created as the final stage Water starter for a set of five starters for Ouen that I created at the beginning of 2003. They were all pretty bad and not very competently illustrated. You'll note the page talks about "Characteristics"; this was the original fan translation of the Japanese term for abilities, used before Ruby and Sapphire came out in English (which would happen in March 2003).

Originally I intended the Monarking appearance to be a hook for something later. I never actually came up with any kind of later thing where it would be relevant, so this has been a completely pointless one-scene wonder fakemon appearance.

For the Smeargle Swap, I really loved the idea of Monarking because sea serpents are cool, especially deep sea ones. You got me on the one-scene wonder! Such a great atmosphere and an underwater city in the pokemon world is fascinating. Would love to see your up-to-date take on Monarking, too!

 

[Dragonfree]

Thank you for the awesome art and reinterpretation of Monarking! :D Also thrilled because I had been thinking to myself that I'd kind of missed an opportunity by not showing Aquarium City in the chapter art, but here you've provided exactly the kind of image I was thinking of. Excellent!

Meanwhile, here's chapter 22, which is late because it's very long and it took a while to get through edits. Annoyingly, the length is mostly because it has an extended almost completely unnecessary battle in it. You can more or less feel free to skim or skip most of Mark's battle here, if you can't be bothered. (Please don't skip May's, though, which is much shorter and actually has a point to it.)

The Pokémon Festival – May 22nd: The Attack Approval​

​

“Mark! Wake up already if you want to train for the Attack Approval before it starts!”

He hadn’t been sleeping, actually. He had been lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking. He had dreamt about Chaletwo, with Eevee and May’s Pikachu mixed in, between waking up abruptly. Usually the last thing he remembered before waking up was a pair of glowing, yellow eyes – Chaletwo’s, presumably. If only he knew what it meant…

He sat up and rubbed his eyes. The Attack Approval. That was something May was very enthusiastic about; she had picked up a booklet on it on their first day in Green Town, and according to it, the contestants would battle judges and were supposed to basically show their ability to create techniques in battle. If they did it well enough, they would get a license that would allow them to use such moves in the Pokémon League. Mark was really just entering it in the hope of getting official permission to use Gyarados’s strange, powerful attack in the League. The sea monster’s color had now returned to normal and he seemed to be at full power, but it had taken him a while after having used the attack three times in a row.

Mark stood up and quietly dressed; then he opened the door and found that May had given up waiting for him. He sighed and decided just to go and train by himself.

As he exited the Pokémon Center and walked slowly out of the city, he looked around for some sort of a pool of water which Gyarados could be released into. It was very grassy around Green Town. A huge forest called Ruxido loomed in the west and Mark knew that the last gym of Ouen was located in the south somewhere. He wandered off towards Ruxido, figuring that he could just as well go there as somewhere else.

After about ten minutes of walking aimlessly around in the woods – making carefully sure, of course, to know where the exit was – Mark still found himself in a completely dry forest. Sighing, he sat down on a rock to think.

A sound was heard. Mark jumped, his heart beating against his ribcage as he stared intensely at the spot where the sound came from.

“Leee…” came a small squeal. A small, curious white head poked out from behind a tree. The head looked kind of alien-like; it would have reminded Mark of an Eevee if it hadn’t been for the fact that it had absolutely no visible features except for two big, cute, ruby red eyes that were pointed at him in a hypnotizing stare.

Mark sat still, and the Pokémon stepped out to observe him better. It was about the size and shape of an Espeon apart from having a bigger head; the limbs were slender and catlike. The whole body was pure white, covered in fine hairs, with absolutely no markings or special features at all. Behind it, the creature whipped an incredibly flexible, thin tail back and forth like a pendulum; left, right, left, right, left, right…

Ten seconds or so passed before Mark came back to his senses and realized that the Pokémon had just attacked him with Hypnosis. He blinked a few times; the creature, which still stood in the same spot, stared at him without blinking. There was something very creepy about it.

Mark slowly took out his Pokédex and pointed it at the Pokémon. A beep was heard.

“Leta, plain Pokémon,” said the Pokédex electronically. “Its tail has no bones in it and is very flexible. It is usually shy and tends to use its Hypnosis attack to lull its opponent to sleep instead of fighting.”

Mark nodded and closed his Pokédex. He stood slowly up and grabbed a Pokéball.

“Go, Jolteon! Paralyze it with a Thunder Wave!”

Mark had checked Jolteon in the Pokédex the day before, just after seeing what Eevee had evolved into. In addition to the evolution, he had gained the ability to use Thunder Wave and Bite.

The yellow Electric Pokémon sprang out of the Pokéball. The long spikes he had in place of fur crackled with electricity, and when he came down on the ground, he sent a flurry of sparks flying at the Leta. The terrified Pokémon attempted to run for it, but its muscles stiffened up before it could get away.

“Now, Jolteon, use a Bite!”

Jolteon nodded and sank his small but sharp fangs into the Leta’s tail. It cried out in pain and managed with difficulty to raise its paw and attempt to scratch Jolteon, but just hurt itself on the spikes. Mark felt a bit sorry for it, but he shook it off; he was going to catch it.

Slowly, he reached for an empty Pokéball.

“LEEE!” screamed the Leta. Mark understood it as some kind of a call for help.

“Leeee,” came a chorus of deeper but similar cries from deep inside the forest. The parents were answering. And the relatives. And the friends.

Mark stopped dead, but then threw the Pokéball quickly, his heart beating hard. The immobile Pokémon was sucked into it, it wobbled once, twice, thrice…

As the ball stilled with a small ping, a deafening roar sounded. Mark quickly recalled the unnerved Jolteon and picked up the Pokéball containing Leta. Meanwhile, a whole herd of large, shining beasts emerged from behind the trees and surrounded him.

They were large, resembling horses in size, but had paws with big, intimidating black claws. Like Leta, they had fine, white fur, but their backs and tails were covered in shiny, metallic armor. In comparison to the rather long neck, the rounded head seemed small; in each head, two red eyes like Leta’s glinted. But the most noticeable feature of these Pokémon was definitely the metal mask that covered the face. It consisted of three two-foot-long blades: one started between the eyes and continued upwards past the forehead, bending slightly backwards; the other two covered the cheeks, grew below the eyes and then continued on backwards, bending inwards. A spike grew upwards out of each of those two blades slightly behind the eyes, its length varying between individuals; on some of them it stood pretty straight up, but on others it started off growing backwards but then started bending forward. The three blades met in the muzzle, which was like a rounded chunk of metal.

The Pokémon stood perfectly still while Mark stared at them, terrified. Some scratched the soil impatiently while shooting glances at each other. Mark just stood there, the Pokéball still clutched in his hand, staring at the monsters.

“What is this?” asked one of the Pokémon’s voices from the back; it was noticeably one of the deeper ones. A few of the Pokémon stepped aside to make room for the asker.

Mark gasped at the sight of the Pokémon that stepped forward. It was a bit different from the rest – its armor was black like its claws and its fur had a bluish tint, appearing to sparkle slightly. It was a shiny, and also appeared to be the leader.

“This human caught Hope,” said a voice that sounded female. “We must do something.”

The shiny stared at Mark and the Pokéball in his hand for a while.

“Leave it,” he finally said, turning around. “She’s old enough to be caught, and if she was not strong enough to prevent this, she belongs to him now.”

“Vigor, she is your daughter!” the female protested.

The leader turned his head slowly. “She doesn’t have the Shine.”

“But she’s your daughter! She’s my daughter!” screamed the female as Vigor turned and started walking sadly away. He ignored her, and, hesitating, the herd followed him. The mother turned desperately to glance at the Pokéball in Mark’s hand, but then followed the herd.

Mark, who had been frozen with fear since the Pokémon arrived, quickly whipped out his Pokédex.

“Letaligon, metallic Pokémon. They are an unusual species in that shinies are unusually common. They live in groups of around thirty, each with one shiny leader. The armor on their bodies is very strong, but light as well.”

He closed the device. He realized that the right thing to do would probably be to release the Leta and let her go back to her mother, but even though he didn’t want to admit it, the greedy part of him just wanted a new Pokémon. He made up some quick excuse about her father being mean, and decided to keep her.

“Leta, go.”

The Pokémon came out of the ball, looking around.

“Are they gone?” she asked. Mark nodded.

“Can I come back here when you’ve made me strong?” She was staring in the direction that the herd had gone off to, clearly upset about her father and determined to prove herself to him.

Mark nodded again. “Yes, you can.” He paused, but then added: “Can you do me a favor? Do you know a lake or something here?”

Leta smiled and disappeared behind some trees to the left. Mark followed, laughing.

-------

“Your mother called you Hope…” Mark said curiously to Leta as she bent down to drink. She had taken him to a clearing in which there was a largish pond; he had sent out his other Pokémon too and they were now drinking or just relaxing and stretching. “Is that your name?”

“Pokémon names don’t work like human names,” Scyther commented before Leta had the chance to answer. “In our language, any sound you make is strictly connected to a meaning, which isn’t the most comfortable way to have one special name that everybody is supposed to know you as. We introduce ourselves as members of our species, and then we give each other nicknames as we see fit.”

“Oh.” Mark paused as Scyther lapped up some more water. “It doesn’t really make any sense, but it still does. I mean, I’ve always known that you use the word Trainer as a name when referring to your own trainers, so I kinda should’ve figured that if you used names for each other you’d probably also use names for humans… but somehow I’ve never thought of it that way.”

Scyther chuckled. “We don’t mind just being referred to by the name of our species. Especially if we’re used to that. You can just keep up what you’re doing now; you’re not offending us.”

Mark smiled. “Well, that’s good.”

“I wouldn’t want you to call me that anyway,” Leta said quietly. Mark nodded.

“Er, well, guys, anyway, what I originally came here with you for was training for the Attack Approval that’s going to be…” he looked at his watch, “in approximately forty-five minutes. Basically, we’re supposed to battle some judges and show off our creative skills. Gyarados, you were what I really had in mind…”

Gyarados just nodded.

“Does your special attack have a name?”

“I call it Dragon Beam,” the sea monster replied.

“How did you learn it?” Mark asked curiously.

“I don’t know,” Gyarados answered dully. “I just could do it after I evolved.”

Mark was still puzzled about it, but he was at least positive that Gyarados weren’t supposed to be able to use anything that resembled a red laser beam that could chase the target, freeze, burn, paralyze and defeat a legendary in one hit.

“Oh – why do you stay gray when you’ve used it often?” Mark asked, remembering what he had been intending to ask.

“Don’t know that either,” Gyarados just said. “But my strength always comes back, even if it takes a while. I experimented a lot with it in the Lake of Purity.”

“Well, at least, then I’ll tell you to use Dragon Beam when I want you to use it,” Mark concluded. “Guys, any of you got anything special to show off?”

The Pokémon looked at each other and shook their heads.

“Well,” Mark said, shrugging, “if you think of something, you’ll use it. All right?”

His Pokémon nodded in agreement; Mark noticed Dragonair giving him a look.

“Great.” Mark looked at his watch. “We’d better get going, I guess.”

-------

“Hi, Mark!”

Mark turned around. It was Alan, who was standing just outside his house.

“Oh, hi.”

“You going to the Attack Approval?” Alan asked. “It’s not starting yet. Dad overslept, and he’s one of the judges, so he’s getting ready now.”

“Oh.” Mark paused. “Er… are you leaving soon? You came out of the house…”

“Well…” Alan muttered. “I like to be a bit ahead of him. Entering with him is kinda embarrassing.”

Mark nodded. “Well, then we can go now.”

Alan shrugged and they started walking towards the Stadium.

“How does the Attack Approval function, anyway, if you get your technique-creating license?” Mark asked.

“Well, the judges add a thingy to your Trainer card…”

“Trainer card?” Mark stopped abruptly. “It’s added on your trainer card?”

Alan looked puzzled at him. “Yes, of course. What else?”

“But what if…” Mark twiddled his thumbs nervously. “What if you didn’t have one?”

Alan responded with a rush of laughter. “Wait, you’re serious?” he then added worriedly.

“Erm…” Mark replied, blushing. “Kind of.”

“But you have Pokémon!” Alan said in disbelief.

“Yeah… I found Charmander outside, bought a Pokédex and set off… didn’t remember I had to get a license…” Mark felt horribly awkward, but he couldn’t train illegally forever.

Alan stopped to think for a moment. Then he said: “Come. Let’s speak to Dad.”

Mark followed him doubtfully back into the house, only to meet the famous Ash Ketchum in the doorway.

Mark was stunned for a second. He stared at the dark-haired man who looked like an adult version of Alan. What he found funny was that every time he had seen Ash on TV, he had looked very tidy and formal. Right now he was just wearing rather normal, boring clothes, looking tired and clearly having had absolutely no time to comb his hair, which all stood on end. The yellow mouse Pokémon stood just inside, seemingly saying goodbye.

Mark grabbed the man’s hand and shook it nervously. “Mr.… Mr. Ketchum… delighted to meet you… err… um… eh…”

“Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Alan’s?” Ash asked, smiling slightly.

“Not a friend exactly… we met the other day…”

“Well,” Alan interrupted, “basically, he’s an illegal trainer and needs a license.”

Mark looked nervously at him, worried that this had been way too bluntly put, but Ash just peered thoughtfully at Mark.

“Send out your Pokémon, please.”

Mark doubtfully reached for his Pokéballs, sending out his non-aquatic Pokémon. Charmeleon glared at Scyther, but he ignored it. “I have a Gyarados too,” Mark said.

“My name is Ash Ketchum,” Ash addressed the Pokémon. “You might have heard of me.”

Mark’s Pokémon nodded in agreement; Charmeleon, however, looked him in the eyes.

“Heard of you?” he said with a small smile.

“Oh!” Ash’s expression brightened. “Nice to see you all evolved and grown-up! I gave you to Rick’s brother, though, didn’t I? Did he trade you?”

Charmeleon shrugged. “Long story.”

“Alan,” Ash said, turning to his son, “that’s Charlie’s younger brother! Did you know that?”

“No,” Alan replied, looking at Mark. “It’s a small world, eh?”

“Well, anyway,” Ash continued before Mark had the chance to answer, directing his next question at Mark’s Pokémon, “what do you honestly think of your trainer?”

“He’s nice,” Charmeleon answered. “A little foolish, though…” He shot a glance at Scyther and then at Mark, who just blushed.

“He is very kind and cares about us,” said Sandslash. “Not the best battler, but a good person.”

“He saved my life,” said Jolteon quietly.

“Mine too,” Charmeleon added.

“He’s not bad,” Dragonair just said.

“I don’t know what he’s like, he just caught me earlier,” said Leta.

“And you?” Ash inquired, turning to Scyther.

The mantis took his time to answer. He looked into Ash’s eyes for a long while, and then at Mark.

“I came with him,” he then began slowly. “I needed him… something to give me a purpose after leaving behind all that I ever loved… something to make life worth living so I wouldn’t lose all sanity I had left and slit my own throat…”

He raised his scythe in front of his face, staring at his own reflection in the shiny surface.

“I guess,” he finished softly, “he saved my life too.”

Ash looked at Mark in silence for a few seconds, but then said: “Your Pokémon have judged. You deserve to be a Pokémon trainer. May I have your Pokédex, please?”

Mark handed it to Ash, and he gestured to Pikachu, who darted into the house before returning, holding some kind of a small, box-like device that was around two thirds of his own size. He gave it to Ash, who scratched Pikachu in return before somehow attaching Mark’s Pokédex to the device and pressing a few buttons on both. A small card, not unlike a credit card, popped out from a slot on the box’s side.

“Done,” said Ash, handing the card to Mark. He looked at it; it had his name, that horrible photo, little icons of his badges, and a bit of other information. On the back were empty spaces for showing his placements in various competitions – such as the Attack Approval.

“Thank you,” Mark said gratefully.

“Thank your Pokémon,” said Ash and smiled.

“Um, Dad? Shouldn’t we get going?” Alan interjected. Ash quickly looked at his watch.

“Yes, we should,” he replied, immediately starting to walk quickly down the street. Mark and Alan ran after him.

-------

Mark waited in a line. He had been very late, of course; therefore he got the honours of being at the very end of the line. There were three matches going on at a time, thankfully, so it wouldn’t be too long to wait.

May had, of course, arrived before him, and was currently battling fiercely with her Lapras against a small, green fairy with two roses, one blue and one reddish pink, on what could be called its hands. The judge, who was a blond-haired woman, commanded her Pokémon to use a Leech Seed.

“Rooseeeelia,” the fairy chanted, swaying slightly to the sides before pointing its roses straight forward and firing two dark green, sharp seeds out of their middles. The seeds embedded themselves into Lapras’s skin; she let out a whimper as they sprouted roots which dug into her hide and started absorbing her energy. Two vines extended out of the seeds and crawled along the ground to the Roselia; it lowered its arms down and allowed the vines to twist and curl around them.

“Lapras, use an Ice Beam to get rid of it,” May commanded. The sea turtle swung her head back, forming an icy blue orb in her mouth before firing a blast of ice crystals at the long vines that now connected the two battlers.

“Roselia, Sunny Day!” said the judge quickly, and Roselia raised its roses into the air, looking at the sky while emitting a sweet note. Incredibly, the blanket of clouds high above ripped apart to reveal a gap through which intense sunlight shone, casting a golden aura on the battle between the turtle and the fairy.

“And now, Solarbeam!” the judge ordered, her Roselia raising both of its roses into the air again. Two golden orbs of light grew in the middle of each rose in a matter of seconds; then the fairy, with a shrill cry, pointed them down at the frost-covered vines from the Leech Seed. Burning hot sunlight blasted at the ice in a bright beam, melting it instantly but leaving the vines mostly unharmed. Lapras seemed to be getting weaker by now, while Roselia was still brimming with energy.

“Lapras, use Surf, and be ready.” May said these words with the utmost determination, staring at the cute, feminine fairy with disdain. Her Lapras obeyed the command, spewing out a rather weakish-looking wave of water which rushed at Roselia.

“Ice Beam!” May shouted as soon as the water reached the fairy, who didn’t appear to be very hurt by it. Lapras fired another beam of ice towards the Roselia; it braced itself, but its weak, plant-like structure wouldn’t last long against an Ice attack. The Ice Beam, however, had another effect, which might have been what May had been aiming for: it froze the water flowing past the Roselia, resulting in it getting completely stuck in a sheet of ice. The fairy moaned; its trainer nodded, looking at May, before removing a Pokéball from her waist.

“Roselia, return,” she announced, recalling the fairy. “Go, Arcanine!”

She threw forth a new ball; out of it came a huge, orange, striped dog with a thick creamy mane and tail. Mark remembered it as one of the Pokémon the first junior trainer in Rick’s Gym had owned; this one, however, seemed nowhere near as aggressive and just stood gracefully still, looking its opponent in the eye, while the damaged vines of the Leech Seed found its feet and wrapped around them.

“Lapras, Surf!” May said quickly.

“Arcanine, Overheat,” the judge countered. May’s turtle was, unfortunately for her, not as fast as the great dog, and the Arcanine started glowing with a hellish red aura before opening its fanged mouth and releasing a big blast of flames. The fire was intensified by the sun, which was still shining through the gap in the clouds that Roselia had created earlier, and Lapras screeched in a high-pitched voice before dropping weakly down.

“Come on!” May hissed. Her Pokémon rose with difficulty, spurting out a wave of water; the stream hissed as it came into contact with Arcanine’s blazing fur. The dog was panting; the attack it had used earlier had clearly used a lot of energy. Once the water attack dissolved, the dog shook itself violently with a small bark.

“Surf again!” May ordered, but as Lapras prepared to send another wave of water crashing at Arcanine, the judge issued another command:

“Extremespeed!”

Her Arcanine leaned backwards with a growl and then leapt at Lapras, turning into a blur of cream, black and orange in the air for a split second due to its lightning speed, but then ramming powerfully into Lapras and knocking her unconscious.

“Lapras! Lapras!” May gritted her teeth as she prodded her Pokémon’s body with her foot. The turtle was still limp, and May swore loudly before recalling her Pokémon.

“You have passed,” said the judge shortly. “Give your Trainer Card to the guys over there.” She pointed at a desk near the entrance. “Next!”

May walked past Mark on the way out, still fuming.

“You weren’t supposed to win, you know,” Mark reminded her. “I mean, they’re professionals. I doubt they’re going to lose a single battle today.”

“Oh, shut up, Mark,” she snapped rudely. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the battles, discovering that there was now only one boy left before him in line. The judge on the right, an elderly man, was just finishing his battle with a girl, and the boy went to him. Mark felt odd being the next person to go; his stomach fluttered uncomfortably. Just a few meters away from him stood Ash’s opponent, a very nervous, small boy; the two of them appeared to be finishing their battle, and indeed, soon enough the boy recalled his Pokémon and walked, beaming, towards the desk. Mark took a deep breath and stepped forward.

“Hi, Mark,” said Ash brightly. “Have you decided which Pokémon you want to use?”

Mark hadn’t, but he still nodded, making a quick decision to leave Jolteon out. He took out his Pokédex and made the change.

“You said you had a Gyarados, didn’t you?” Ash asked. “Are you going to use it?”

Mark nodded; Ash took a little remote out of his pocket and pressed a button. The floor on the right side between them started sinking down and then moved to the side under the rest of the floor, revealing a pool of water.

“Oh, yeah… I should make it clear that your objective is not to win the battle,” Ash added. “Just battle with as much style and creative use of your Pokémon’s abilities as you can.”

“You won’t be using your strongest Pokémon, will you?” asked Mark nervously. Ash chuckled.

“Of course not. We don’t want your Pokémon to go down before you can display anything worth seeing. We’re using Pokémon around level 50 – it tests you better to have you battle against something stronger than you.”

“Oh… I see,” Mark just said.

“All right…” Ash began. “Six on six, recalled Pokémon is a defeated Pokémon.”

He smiled slightly and took out a Pokéball.

“Go, Breloom!”

The ball opened, releasing a sphere of red energy that formed into a very weird Pokémon resembling a kangaroo in shape. Its lower body was green, but the long tail, the neck, the petal-like collar and the rounded head were beige in color. On the top of its head was a growth, resembling a mushroom, and finally it had blood red claws on its oddly tucked-in arms and the more powerful, bouncy feet.

Mark figured this Pokémon had to be a Grass-type and reached for Charmeleon’s Pokéball.

“Go! Flamethrower!”

“Breloom, dodge it and then put it to sleep with a Spore attack!”

Charmeleon, as soon as he materialized from the ball, took a deep breath and blew out a blast of fire. Breloom, crying out in a high-pitched voice, jumped skillfully out of the way, and one of the four round seeds at the end of its tail started glowing with a bright green aura. Swinging its tail powerfully forward, the kangaroo sent a cloud of sparkly green powder at Charmeleon.

“Don’t inhale it!” Mark shouted stupidly, but the lizard’s eyelids started to drop and he collapsed within five seconds.

“Great job, Breloom,” Ash cheered. “Use a Leech Seed while it can’t dodge, and then wait for it to wake up.”

“Charmeleon!” Mark screamed, but he couldn’t hear anything through the unnatural sleep. Meanwhile, the kangaroo fired two parasitic seeds like the ones Roselia had used against May’s Lapras, and they sprouted roots that in no time embedded themselves into Charmeleon’s skin. Two vines grew from the seeds and wrapped around Breloom’s legs. Mark knew that the seeds were sucking energy from Charmeleon to Breloom, but he couldn’t do anything about it…

The lizard stirred and heavily opened an eye. Ash immediately gave the next order:

“Mind Reader, now!”

The kangaroo’s eyes glowed red as it fixed its glare on Charmeleon while he rose up; it didn’t appear to do anything. He fired silky flames towards Breloom, but it again jumped out of the way.

“Use a Dynamicpunch!” Ash cried out.

“Dodge it!” Mark countered. Charmeleon growled as he jumped up, but the kangaroo, its eyes still glowing, jumped up too. In mid-air, its arm sprang out and struck Charmeleon in the face. He was thrown backwards and crashed dizzily into the ground; Breloom landed on its feet.

“Charmeleon, Flamethrower!” Mark commanded desperately. Charmeleon rose slowly up, but his gaze was unfocused and he dropped down again.

Mark bit his lip, but then remembered that he was supposed to be thinking up new techniques. He wondered for a second; then the part of him that paid attention in Battle Strategies took control of his mouth.

“Rage!”

Charmeleon stood up again and rushed towards Breloom. The Rage attack would turn pain into power, and was just about Charmeleon’s only chance. What was more was that this would give Mark time to think over his situation.

While Charmeleon madly slashed and bit the kangaroo while steadily having his energy drained by the parasitic seeds, Mark thought as quickly as he could. May had also gotten Leech Seed used against her; she had gotten rid of it with…

“Charmeleon,” Mark shouted, “attack the Leech Seed’s vines!”

Mark knew that once Rage was used, its power would be lost if another attack was ordered; therefore he didn’t want to tell him to use Flamethrower. The Rage attack had to be getting very powerful now, anyway.

Charmeleon started scratching and biting the vines that linked him to his opponent. Ash told Breloom to use a Stun Spore, realizing that it would not help to attack Charmeleon while any pain he felt would just power up his attacks, but Charmeleon wasn’t affected a lot by the paralysis; the sheer power he had gained through the Rage attack was enough to move his limbs despite the stiffening powder that he had breathed in. Finally, he managed to hack through one of the vines, but having focused his attention on the Leech Seed for too long, Charmeleon wasn’t aware that Breloom was at full health by now and one more order from Ash, this time a Mach Punch, brought him down.

“Return,” Mark muttered. He thought for a bit; the Breloom seemed like a part-Fighting type since it could use all those punches. He vaguely remembered that kicks and punches did not harm Bug Pokémon a lot… or ones that could fly. Nor did Grass attacks.

He smiled. “Scyther, do it!”

“Breloom, Leech Seed!” Ash ordered.

Just as Breloom fired two more seeds, Scyther zoomed out of the way. Before Breloom was able to attack, the mantis’s scythes started glowing faintly green, and he dashed at the kangaroo to slash it across the chest. It cried out, blood leaking from the gash.

“Breloom, are you all right?” Ash asked with concern. The Pokémon nodded determinedly.

“Great. Mind Reader!” he roared, his Pokémon’s eyes turning bright red as Scyther returned to slash it again. This time he cut a gash on its shoulder; the kangaroo winced slightly, but nothing more.

“Leech Seed!” Ash then shouted, and Breloom fired two seeds. They hit dead-on this time, despite that Scyther was still moving. Mark suddenly remembered that Mind Reader caused the next attack to hit no matter what.

The two seeds sprouted roots and grew into Scyther’s armor, but as the vines started growing out of them to connect with Breloom, Scyther simply cut them in two with a swipe of his scythe. He prepared to attack Breloom again; Ash meanwhile gave another command:

“Strength!”

Mark suddenly got an idea, and blurted out: “Scyther, wait! Stay there and defend yourself!”

The mantis looked at him, seeming somewhat puzzled, but still did as Mark said, leaned backwards and held his scythes out in front of him as the kangaroo came rushing towards him. Just as Breloom was almost within Scyther’s reach, Mark made the next order.

“Fury Cutter! Slash, slash, slash! Quick!”

Scyther’s super-fast reflexes enabled him to attack immediately. His scythes glowed green again and he slashed Breloom three times: once with the left scythe, once with the right one and once with both. The kangaroo was thrown backwards, bleeding in a few places. Ash hurriedly recalled it and took out another ball as Mark smiled to Scyther.

“Go, Graveler!”

Ash sent out a big, rugged rock-like Pokémon. Its hide was a dark brownish gray; the body was round with four small, bulgy hands and two stubby feet.

“Okay, Scyther…” Mark inhaled deeply. “Try a Fury Cutter.”

The mantis dashed immediately towards the rock Pokémon, his scythes glowing. Ash didn’t attempt to order his Pokémon to dodge it; it probably wasn’t made for trying. Scyther struck the Graveler with his scythe, barely scratching the rock-like hide at all.

“Rock Tomb!” Ash ordered, and his Pokémon slowly raised its arms. At the same time, the ground in a circle around Scyther exploded upwards and the mantis was buried under rocks, ranging from large chunks to fine dust. He broke out of it in a few seconds despite being severely bruised; unfortunately he had lost his concentration and the glow on his scythes had faded away. Mark took out his Pokéball and recalled his Pokémon; Scyther didn’t stand a chance.

“That was the right thing to do,” Ash commented. “You know when your Pokémon would only get unnecessarily hurt.”

Mark just smiled slightly and blushed. After a short pause, he took out Gyarados’s Pokéball.

“Go!”

The sea monster emerged in the pool and apparently did not decide to roar as he usually did when entering battle. His little red eyes just fixed on Graveler and watched.

“Defense Curl,” Ash told his Graveler. The rock curled up into a tight ball, tucking its arms and legs into its body. Mark hesitated, wondering if Ash was about to try to surprise him.

“Graveler, Rollout!” Ash commanded, and his Pokémon started rolling slowly towards the pool, picking up speed as it went. When it came to the bank, it suddenly bounced upwards and rammed into Gyarados’s head before landing on the other side and rolling a bit on.

“Gyarados, Dive!” Mark shouted, thinking as quickly as he could. Rollout got more powerful each time it was used, he seemed to recall, so it would be best to try and dodge the attack. The sea monster dove into the pool, avoiding the rock Pokémon as it rolled back with more force than before. After missing Gyarados, the Graveler started rolling back again, but as it was in the air flying over the pool, Gyarados’s shape rose from the surface. He seemed like a figure made of water as he crashed right into the Graveler’s body and threw it aside; then the water illusion faded and his real colors were revealed again. Graveler, hit hard by the blow, rose slowly up, but Gyarados breathed out a blast of crimson flames of his own accord and Graveler cried out before falling unconscious when the dragon flames enveloped its body.

“Return, Graveler,” Ash said, holding forward the Pokéball to recall the rock Pokémon. “Manectric, do it.”

Ash sent out a dog-like Pokémon. It was blue and yellow with spiky fur and a very odd, pointed mane on its head. Everything about it looked like an Electric Pokémon, so Mark didn’t get his hopes up for Gyarados; however, nothing said he couldn’t go out with a bang.

“Gyarados,” Mark shouted, “Dragon Beam!”

Ash seemed to be about to command Manectric to attack, but paused after hearing the command, most likely wanting to see what Mark was about to pull out of his sleeve. Gyarados closed his eyes with a low growl, and his colors started fading away. Manectric watched alertly, seemingly ready to attempt to dodge. Then, when Gyarados’s body had turned completely grayscale, his eyes opened and fired a red beam.

Manectric attempted to leap out of the way, but the beam followed easily. Ash looked at it with clear astonishment. As the beam hit the dog, it was sent flying backwards, landing harshly by its trainer’s side.

“Do you want to be recalled?” Ash asked, concerned. The Pokémon shook its head and growled, standing up again.

“Thunderbolt, then.”

Manectric jerked its head upwards and howled as its fur started sparkling with electricity. Then it fired a bolt of lightning that struck Gyarados as he was still recharging his energy. With a terrible roar, the sea monster collapsed and didn’t get up again.

“Gyarados, return,” Mark said softly. “Go, Sandslash!”

The pangolin emerged from the Pokéball and observed his opponent.

“Sandslash, Earthquake!”

“Manectric, Crunch!”

Manectric was faster than Sandslash, jumped at him and bared its fangs. Sandslash defensively slashed the dog across the face, but Manectric aggressively locked its jaws around Sandslash’s front paw. Sandslash sank his other claws into Manectric’s hind leg and as the dog yelped in pain, it released him and staggered backwards. Sandslash grabbed the opportunity and slammed his weight into the ground, causing the eerie Earthquake ripple to reach Manectric and take the Electric Pokémon down. The dog howled in pain and then dropped weakly to the ground.

“Return, Manectric,” Ash said, recalling his Pokémon. “You did a good job.”

Ash stopped to think for a second, but then sent out his next Pokémon.

“Go, Hitmontop!”

Hitmontop was an odd creature – it balanced upside-down on its cone-shaped head, with its clawed legs and spiked tail sticking out into the air and its arms held in a boxing position. Its head also had funny hair-like flaps on either side of it. Despite not looking very muscular, Mark knew it was a Fighting Pokémon like its relatives Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan, and that family of Pokémon was famous for having quite a bit more muscular strength than could be seen on the outside.

Mark nervously looked at Sandslash, whose injured front paw was still bleeding. He wouldn’t exactly last very long, and he wasn’t very fast either. Mark wondered if he should switch. The Pokémon he had left were Dragonair and Leta. Leta was a Normal type so that was out of the question, but Dragonair wouldn’t do so bad…

“All right, Sandslash, return.”

Mark tried to recall his Pokémon, but Sandslash moved out of the beam’s way and smashed his paws into the ground again. A second Earthquake attack formed, shaking the Hitmontop badly as the waves hit it.

“Hitmontop, Triple Kick!” Ash commanded quickly, his Pokémon instantly starting to spin around like a top. Still spinning, it rushed at Sandslash and delivered three blows to his head – one with each foot and one with the tail. The pangolin looked unconscious, but while Hitmontop was slowing down, Sandslash suddenly extended his claws and delivered a powerful slash. Hitmontop cried out in pain and somehow managed to leap backwards while still balancing on its head.

“All right, Sandslash… I guess you want to go on?”

Sandslash nodded determinedly.

“Hitmontop, Revenge attack!”

From Hitmontop’s scratches, red started spreading out and taking over the Pokémon’s body. Mark thought it was blood at first, but it was too bright red and was more like a glow than a liquid. Once it was completely red, it rushed into Sandslash again. The pangolin was thrown backwards by the force of the attack, but still stood up again. Mark was amazed; he had greatly underestimated Sandslash when he had intended to recall him earlier.

“Now, use a Quick Attack!” Ash ordered, and the Fighting Pokémon darted in a blur towards Sandslash again. The blow knocked the pangolin out before he could do anything to protect himself.

“Return, Sandslash,” Mark said softly. “You did a great job.”

Slowly, he picked Dragonair’s Pokéball and threw it into the arena. The blue snake-like dragon formed on the ground.

“Give me another good Triple Kick now,” Ash said.

“Dragonair, try to dodge!” Mark quickly yelled.

Hitmontop spun towards Dragonair and prepared to perform the attack it had used on Sandslash earlier; Dragonair twisted his body to avoid the two kicks from the legs, but the tail hit him and knocked him down. The dragon recovered quickly as Hitmontop got out of the way of a possible counterattack, but all of a sudden, startling both Mark and Ash, Dragonair’s body burst out in flames. Mark panicked for a second, but the fire died down quickly and Dragonair looked normal.

“Dragonair,” Mark started hesitantly, “try a…”

The dragon interrupted by breathing a cloud of flames into the air. Mark looked at him, puzzled, having no idea what had just happened. He quickly glanced at Ash; he was nodding absent-mindedly to himself while examining Dragonair.

“Hitmontop… try a Rolling Kick,” Ash then ordered thoughtfully. His Pokémon curled itself into a knot of sorts and rolled towards Dragonair at high speed. The dragon blasted out fire, hitting Hitmontop dead-on; the fighter screamed in pain, but nonetheless performed the attack, delivering a sharp kick to Dragonair’s snout before dropping down, exhausted. Ash quietly recalled it.

“Mightyena, do it!”

Out of his next Pokéball came a big, wolf-like Pokémon. Its body had gray, fine fur; however, its back was additionally coated with thicker, pitch-black hairs, along with some black markings on its face and its legs. The canine Pokémon growled quietly at Dragonair.

“Crunch!” Ash commanded, his Pokémon leaping towards the snake-like dragon and baring its fangs. Dragonair countered with another fire attack – Mark was still very confused as to how he could use them – and Mightyena, yelping in pain, stumbled backwards without actually coming into contact with Dragonair.

“Try a Shadow Ball,” Ash suggested, his Pokémon leaning slightly backwards. A jet-black orb of shadow started forming in front of Mightyena, rapidly growing in size. Then the Pokémon barked sharply and the orb shot towards Dragonair. He was hit by it and thrown backwards; the dragon appeared to be shivering as he rose up again with difficulty.

“Use a Howl,” Ash ordered, and Mightyena raised its head into the air before letting out a long, eerie howl. Mark really had no idea what was up with Dragonair suddenly using Fire attacks and was a bit too confused to be able to give proper instructions to his Pokémon; he just watched Dragonair breathe a long silky tongue of fire which the wolf avoided without much effort.

“Another Shadow Ball, now, and make it count!” Ash shouted to his Mightyena. It leaned backwards again, but this time it was much faster charging up a much bigger orb. It was fired straight at the dragon and he was sent flying back towards Mark. He finally got up again after straining for a few seconds, and then…

He flew.

Dragonair just put up a strange expression and floated elegantly into the air, his sleek, snake-like body moving as if he were swimming. He seemed astonished at his own accomplishment for a second; then he appeared to snap out of a trance and focused on Mightyena again.

“Shadow Ball!” Ash shouted. Mightyena reared up, forming a big orb of shadow in a matter of seconds, and sending it at the dragon. Dragonair retaliated with another Fire attack, but the Shadow Ball took in the flames somehow and the fiery orb hit the dragon in the face. Dragonair dropped limply to the ground, defeated.

“Return,” Mark said as the Pokéball absorbed the blue dragon. He suddenly realized that he had only Leta left, and she was very low-leveled compared to the rest of his team. He bit his lip, but nonetheless grabbed the metallic sphere.

“Go, Leta!” he yelled, throwing the ball. It bounced off the ground and popped open; the plain-looking shape of the Pokémon he had caught earlier emerged from it and looked timidly at Mightyena.

Ash hesitated. “Mightyena, Take Down, but be careful.”

The wolf leapt towards the much smaller Leta, growling. It smashed powerfully into her body; she let out a high-pitched squeal, but stood up and stared at Mightyena, waving her tail rhythmically. The wolf was quickly hypnotized, and moments later its muscles relaxed, causing it to drowsily drop down as its eyes closed completely.

“Great job, Leta!” Mark cheered. “Now, um…” He had no idea what kind of attacks Leta might be able to use; finally, he just decided to make his best available guess:

“Tackle!”

He was relieved to see that Leta recognized the attack and rammed her small body into Mightyena’s; he’d have hated to make a fool of himself in front of Ash Ketchum by showing that he didn’t even know his Pokémon’s attacks. The disappointing part was that the wolf was way too big to be even affected by such a tiny Pokémon’s Tackle at all. Leta did her best a few times, but Mightyena didn’t even move and Mark saw Ash smiling slightly at Leta’s unsuccessful efforts. The white Pokémon seemed to give up, walked a few steps backwards and crouched down. Then she charged towards Mightyena.

“Yeah, Headbutt!” Mark quickly said in some kind of subconscious attempt to make it look like he knew what he was doing. Leta slammed her head into Mightyena’s body, but unfortunately this woke the wolf up. Mightyena growled and bared its fangs.

“Recall her, Mark,” Ash sighed. “She doesn’t stand a chance.”

Mark had to admit that he was right. He reluctantly took out Leta’s Pokéball and it absorbed her inside. He looked nervously at Ash.

“You passed,” he said, smiling. “Tell me, though… what was that thing your Gyarados did?”

“Er…” Mark thought a bit. “I don’t know, to be honest. He just can do that.”

Ash looked puzzled, but like he was realizing something nonetheless. “Ah well,” he finally said, “it probably all has some natural explanation.”

“Do you know what Dragonair did?” Mark asked.

“Dragonair? Oh, that was just some clever usage of the Dragon type’s association with fire. Your Gyarados, however… he did something that shouldn’t even be possible.” He furrowed his brow, seemingly thinking hard.

“Well, thanks,” said Mark doubtfully before walking off to the judges’ table.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

I turned fifteen while writing this chapter! So from now on I have slightly less of an excuse for things being ridiculous.

Leta, Letal and Letaligon are a fakemon evolution line I created in 2004/5. This also means Leta was actually a new character in this version, which awkwardly meant I didn't really make much proper use of her at all until I'd overtaken the previous version, but expect to see considerably more of her after chapter 30.

I chose to make Mark a real dick capturing Leta for some reason and it's weird. Maybe if a Pokémon screams for help when they see a Pokéball it might indicate they're not entirely psyched to be caught? Just a thought? So maybe you should not let the "greedy part of you" just decide her questionable father is an excuse to decide unilaterally to keep her? It's extra frustrating because Mark was kind of good last chapter, too.

The Pokémon naming worldbuilding in the fic is finally (awkwardly) explained here. I made it sound super like I was making this up on the spot here to handwave why Pokémon not having names totally isn't weird, suddenly declaring that Pokémon call their trainers Trainer and all while there's been zero indication of this in the story so far, but actually I'd explained how this works in chapter 35 of the version prior to this one and just for some reason never included anything even hinting at it in this revision started after that, because fourteen-year-old me was a master of good writing decisions. This also means Mark, who you may recall is supposed to be good at Pokémon speech, is somehow learning for the first time now how something as fundamental as names works in their language and culture. Great job, me. (In a later revision of the first few chapters, I wrote an extra wherein this was covered in the very first Pokémon speech lesson, as it should be.)

Love to resolve the entire illegal training debacle by having Ash just give Mark a license the moment he first actually needs one, problem solved. What a silly plot thread that is now mercifully wrapped up for good. Also making Charmeleon randomly Charlie's brother, which also makes him a son of Ash's Charizard. Granted, I was imagining Ash's Charizard has fathered at least a few dozen Charmander who've been starter Pokémon, so he wasn't exactly meant to be unique, just incidentally related.

Scyther's extremely hilariously melodramatic bit there in the Ash scene is only a taste of what is to come; be prepared.

Annoyingly, the Attack Approval event itself was much more fun and interesting in the previous versions, where it involved Mark workshopping specific new moves with his Pokémon, testing them out on high-tech Clefable dolls that record statistics, and then performing them for the judges, instead of consisting of just having a battle. Fifteen-year-old me still making stellar writing decisions.

 

[Dragonfree]

Time for chapter 23, wherein the Pokémon Festival continues to have a very questionable taste in officially sanctioned events.

This chapter went and did this thing of including some of the Pokémon's thoughts in italics in the middle of battle, stepping out of Mark's POV randomly. I was going to use this for a particular moment much, much later on. By the time I got to that moment, I did not actually do it this way, so instead it's a thing I did randomly in this one chapter and then never again. I'm saying this here in an author's note because there's no actual way to tell within the text that these are the Pokémon's thoughts and not Mark's, other than the content of the thoughts. Fantastic writing decisions all around.

Also, heads up that this is one of the chapters with heavier themes of suicide, and in particular, it handles it quite badly. Apologies in advance for this.

The Pokémon Festival – May 23rd: The Pokémon Frenzy Tournament​

​

Mark woke up before May the next day. He had never thought he’d ever be relieved to wake up from a nightmare about creepy yellow eyes, but it was not at all pleasant to be woken up by May’s yells every morning, either. He quickly got dressed, and just as he pulled on his socks, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Hey, sleepy!”

“I’m up already!” Mark called back, walking towards the door and opening it. “What event is today again?”

“The Pokémon Frenzy Tournament,” May replied.

“What was that again?” Mark asked, yawning.

“It’s a thing where your Pokémon battle without trainers,” she explained. “Look, I have a thingy on it.” She held up a booklet and then started skimming it.

“It says here that it’s ‘a competition of how well Pokémon can handle their own battles without the limits set by trainers and standard battling rules’,” she read and looked up. “That translates to ‘something where your Pokémon beat each other up and you have nothing to do with it’.”

Mark considered this. He wasn’t the best battler, after all – maybe his Pokémon would like to get some time to shine by themselves.

“It also says here,” May continued, “that trainer-free battling ‘helps your Pokémon’s ability to think independently within battle’, and to ‘know their own limits’.”

Mark nodded. That would definitely help him get some badges; after all, he did usually rely on his Pokémon’s abilities rather than his own when battling.

“Umm, are you entering?” he finally asked.

“No,” she said. “I prefer to win thanks to my own strategies, not my Pokémon’s.”

A part of Mark decided to take that as a personal attack, but the other part prevented him from saying anything.

“Well, I like the idea,” he said decisively. “I’m entering… all of my Pokémon.”

“Well, the same trainer may only enter a maximum of three Pokémon,” May read from the booklet. “So that won’t work.”

“Oh.” Mark paused for a second. “Well, I won’t enter Leta, the Pokémon there are probably all much stronger than she is… Jolteon really deserves to be in, though; he didn’t get to take part in the Attack Approval at all...”

“It says here you can’t enter Pokémon that rely on water to battle,” May pointed out.

“Then I guess Gyarados can’t be entered either,” Mark said. After a short pause, he sighed.

“I’m being an idiot – of course I have to ask them.”

May didn’t reply; he took out his Pokéballs and sent out all of his Pokémon except Gyarados. He started by briefly explaining the Pokémon Frenzy Tournament.

“So,” he finished, “who wants to enter and who doesn’t?”

“I want to,” Leta said quietly.

“But…” Mark protested, startled. “There will be really strong Pokémon there…”

“Yes,” Leta replied emptily.

May’s booklet saved Mark from trying to convince her otherwise: “Well, the minimum level to enter appears to be 30. It says here that there are five groups: level 30-45, level 46-60, 61-75, 76-90 and 91+. Leta is level 22, isn’t she? So she can’t enter. The rest of you can, though.”

Leta didn’t say anything. She just looked down.

“I’m sorry,” said Mark, although he actually felt very relieved. “What about the rest of you?”

“I’ll volunteer not to be in,” said Dragonair after a moment’s pause. “As fun as it would be to fly some more, I’m not that interested.”

The rest of the Pokémon looked at each other for a while.

“I guess I’ll pass too, then,” Sandslash said finally. “I don’t really care either way.”

“Great,” said Mark cheerfully. “That’s all settled, then?”

All the Pokémon except Leta nodded. She just stared emptily straight forward.

“All right,” she finally sighed after everybody’s eyes had been set on her for a second.

“I’m sorry, Leta,” Mark said quietly. She just nodded shortly.

-------

What had been done with the stadium since yesterday was amazing. Tall walls now divided the arena into five parts, one for each level group. The one for level 30-45 was the smallest, while the level 91+ one was the biggest by far. There weren’t many people accompanying Mark and May on the small section of seats that faced towards the 30-45 part; Mark guessed that almost all of them were probably the trainers of participating Pokémon, like him, or their friends, like May.

Mark noticed that the walls were much thicker than they needed to be; just as he was wondering why, doors slid open on either side of the mini-arena.

“Welcome to the Pokémon Frenzy Tournament!” a voice boomed out. “I will be commenting on the battles today. Let’s just start round one!”

Two men holding Pokéballs appeared in the doors, ready to throw them.

“And the first match is between a level 35 male Jolteon and a level 35 female Vibrava named Terra! Let the battle begin!”

The men threw the Pokéballs; out of them came Jolteon and a weird, green and yellow dragonfly-like Pokémon. It flapped its wings and floated lazily a little above the ground.

It’s a dragonfly… Pokémon that fly are weak to electricity, aren’t they? I think May always used Pikachu for them…

Jolteon crouched down, charging up electricity in the spikes on his back. The Vibrava watched him calmly; naturally he found it a bit odd, but he nonetheless released a bolt of lightning that shot towards the dragonfly Pokémon. She didn’t even attempt to dodge; in fact it was almost like she took the full blast of the attack on purpose.

“And it’s a Thunderbolt!” shouted the announcer.

Jolteon tilted his head with a confused “Jolti?” as the Vibrava kept floating there without reacting to the attack at all. There were no signs of her being in pain, or even having taken the attack at all.

Suddenly she jerked herself upwards and then dived down. She slammed hard into the ground, causing an explosion of ripples as if she had dived into water. Jolteon was too startled to avoid the attack and cried out in pain as he was hit, accidentally releasing a flurry of sparks.

“Terra used an Earthquake, but Jolteon is not quite down yet!”

Earthquake?

The Vibrava tried diving into the ground again, but this time Jolteon was ready and leapt up just before she landed. He came down on her back, locking his claws into her wings. The Vibrava screeched, flying upwards again in an attempt to shake Jolteon off. In the air, he started charging up more electricity and sending it pulsating directly into her body; she was just as unaffected as the previous time. The Vibrava turned her head around in an attempt to bite Jolteon; he leapt off her in time and she crashed right into the wall.

“Ouch! That must’ve hurt!” came the announcer’s voice as Terra dropped weakly down to the ground. After looking unconscious for a second, she suddenly got up and blasted sparkly flames at Jolteon. Taken by surprise, he was hit; he felt his muscles stiffen but managed to shake it off.

“Nice Dragonbreath there! It almost paralyzed even the limber Jolteon!”

Earthquake? Dragonbreath? Electricity not working? This is weird…

“Jooooolt!” he screamed as he turned around and fired the spikes on his backside in a flurry towards the Vibrava. Like tiny, sharp needles, they tore into the dragonfly Pokémon’s skin and wings; she screeched in pain.

“Ooh, clever Jolteon!” the announcer said. “He gets it! It’s safe to reveal now, folks, that the Bug/Flying type that most people assume when they look at a Vibrava is in fact a brilliant disguise, because it is really a Ground/Dragon type!”

Everybody in the audience except May was surprised to hear this, Mark included.

“But back to the battle, Jolteon is using another Pin Missile in an attempt to eliminate Terra from the match! She was weakened earlier when she crashed, so now we just have to wonder whether he’ll make it in time!”

As Jolteon took a short break to breathe, Terra shot into the air again, clearly preparing for another Earthquake, but Jolteon suddenly leapt at her at incredible speed, becoming a streak of yellow in the air as he struck her with his whole body.

“And it’s a great Quick Attack!” the announcer shouted. “Let’s see if Terra makes it!”

Both Pokémon landed on the ground, Jolteon on his feet but Terra on her side. She twitched slightly but didn’t get up again.

“And Jolteon is the winner!” came the announcer’s voice as the doors on the sides opened again and the men recalled the two Pokémon. Mark noticed that Jolteon was very tired after this battle; he hoped the Pokémon were healed before they had to battle again.

“The next battle is between this level 45 female Scizor and Blade the male Sceptile, who is also level 45!”

Two new Pokéballs were thrown, and the Pokémon emerged on the arena. Mark compared the crimson red, metallic bug with pincers of some sort on its arms and the large, green, bipedal reptile with a fern for a tail. He had always thought Sceptile was ugly when he looked at the illustration in his Pokémonology textbook, mainly because the tail always reminded him of a Christmas tree; now that he saw one in real life, he thought it didn’t look so bad.

Meanwhile, the Scizor had been performing weird ninja tricks of some sort on the air, seemingly lost in her own world. The Sceptile raised an eyebrow before suddenly roaring and leaping at her, hoping to take her by surprise; however, she somehow grabbed him by the arm in mid-air and threw him to the ground as easily as a sheet of paper.

“Ooh, Scizor pretended to be playing around while she was really building up her power with Swords Dance! Clever move there!”

The reptile got up, seemingly mad about being fooled like that. He suddenly plucked a leaf off his own tail; it started glowing as he leapt at her again with a roar, attempting to strike her with the edge of the leaf as if it were a sword. She narrowly blocked it with her pincer, but then said something. The Sceptile nodded and they turned around, walking a few steps back.

“I think Scizor just challenged Blade to a duel!” said the announcer as the two Pokémon turned around and rushed at each other. Their arms moved like blurs, attacking and blocking attacks, and the audience could only guess what was really happening from the occasional roars as one of them got hit. Finally, they stopped to catch their breaths. The Sceptile was notably more hurt; he had a big bleeding gash on his forehead and quite a few scratches and bruises, while Scizor’s shiny armor was barely damaged. The reptile looked a lot more tired, too, but he had no intentions of giving up; he grabbed another leaf from his tail and held it in his other hand, and then rushed at the bug again.

“Poor Blade doesn’t have much of a chance here, I’m afraid,” the announcer explained. “His Leaf Blade attack is not very effective on Bug and Steel Pokémon like Scizor at all.”

This announcement only made the reptilian Pokémon all the more furious; he started slashing faster and harder with his leaves, and Scizor showed signs of starting to have a hard time keeping up with his speed as she blocked one strike after another. Finally Blade made a fatal mistake; one strike was too low, Scizor saw her chance, and she leapt into the air and smashed her pincers into his skull.

A sickening crack was heard. A red-haired teenage girl in the audience screamed, presumably Blade’s trainer. The reptile dropped limply to the ground, his head covered with blood.

The two Pokémon were recalled; Blade was at least still alive since the Pokéball worked.

“Blade will now be escorted to the Pokémon Center to be taken care of,” the announcer assured. “He will be fine. The next battle is Fury the level 40, and obviously male, Hitmonchan, versus Happy the level 38 obviously-female Chansey! It’s a battle of the sexes! Who will win?”

Mark rolled his eyes. They were selecting Pokémon of at least similar levels to battle, but they kept giving one Pokémon a type advantage over the other. This Chansey was probably dead meat.

The doors opened. A rather humanoid-looking brown creature wearing a purple tunic and boxing gloves walked out on one side, and an egg-shaped pink creature with a happy expression emerged from a Pokéball on the other. Fury stretched and yawned while keeping an eye on his opponent and then faced her to bow deeply. As he rose up again, he suddenly delivered a sharp punch to her head and then a kick to her stomach. Her eyes widening in surprise, the Chansey bounced backwards like a rubber ball, landing on her back and flailing around. Fury walked up to her and smiled apologetically before raising his right fist into the air; his glove sparkled with electricity before he gave the Chansey another punch. She screamed and stopped moving.

Fury stroked nonexistent sweat from his forehead as the Chansey was recalled; Mark saw a dark-haired boy in the audience smack his forehead and guessed that he was Happy’s trainer. Then the Hitmonchan walked out of the arena. Mark wondered why he wasn’t in a Pokéball; maybe his trainer was one of those anti-Pokéball people.

“Umm, after this, er, great match, we’ll see Jaws the male Feraligatr, level 42, battle Cannon the Blastoise, level 41 male.”

Two Pokéballs were thrown, opening to reveal two huge, blue Water Pokémon. One was a bipedal alligator like the one the Mew Hunter had possessed; this one was undeniably larger, though. The other was a gigantic tortoise, also bipedal, with two shiny metallic cannons poking out of holes in his shell.

For a while the two just growled, staring at each other and baring their fangs. Then the Feraligatr ran towards Cannon and they started wrestling. Jaws bit the Blastoise’s cannon; the tortoise Pokémon started pumping water through it with tremendous force, pushing the alligator slightly back. He moved out of the way and then used what was, according to the announcer, a Dynamic Punch. This sent the Blastoise tumbling backwards until he fell over, and while he lay helplessly on his back, flailing around, the Feraligatr smashed his tail into Cannon’s stomach. With a loud groan, he fell unconscious and Jaws celebrated victory with a few roars. The two Pokémon were recalled.

“Next battle! We have this level 36 female Raichu against a level 37 male Umbreon called Wraith!”

The two Pokémon were sent out. One was an orange rodent, most likely one of those that had been evolved in the Evolution Solution, and the other was a sleek, black catlike creature with long ears and tail; Mark recognized it as the Dark-type evolution of Eevee. It had glowing, yellow rings on its forehead, ears, tail and legs.

The Raichu charged her yellow cheeks with electric sparks before sending a bolt of lightning at the Umbreon. He took the attack and shrieked slightly in pain, but shook it off. His rings started glowing as a black orb of shadow formed in front of him; then it was fired at Raichu and hit her. She was thrown backwards and moaned in pain before standing up again with difficulty.

“Raichu started off this battle with a Thunderbolt, but Wraith countered with a nice Shadow Ball! Good start!”

Wraith now started kicking sand that appeared under his feet into the Raichu’s eyes. The mouse Pokémon retaliated by starting to sparkle and slamming her lightning bolt-shaped tail into the Umbreon’s body. His muscles stiffened, leaving him paralyzed and forcing him to stop – but suddenly Raichu’s body also stiffened with a flurry of electric sparks.

“Ooh… Wraith used a Sand-Attack, and then Raichu countered with a neat Thunder Wave, which would have given her a nice advantage if only it weren’t for Umbreon’s Synchronize ability which causes all special conditions to rebound upon the user!” the announcer called. “Bad mistake there, Raichu!”

Wraith suddenly opened his mouth and sprayed out a dark purple liquid. The sticky substance went all over the paralyzed Raichu and started seeping into her fur. She moaned.

“Wraith uses a Toxic! Oh, this is deadly!”

With some difficulty, the mouse Pokémon sent a bolt of lightning at the Umbreon. He couldn’t avoid the attack thanks to his condition, but he clearly had the endurance that his species was known for and took the attack without much trouble while Raichu shivered from the poisoning. Wraith’s red eyes glowed, and he seemed to be healed slightly.

“That, folks, was an example of a Moonlight attack used in daylight,” the announcer explained. “You can’t really see it because the sun lights everything up, but Wraith just made the moon shine brightly on him, giving him added energy. The Moonlight attack is quite a sight to see in nighttime – it’s a shame you didn’t get to have a good look at it. Oh, look, Raichu is using a Thunder Punch!”

While he talked, the mouse Pokémon’s fist had started sparkling, and now she slammed it into Wraith’s face. He cried out in pain as the electricity surged through his body, but he clearly knew that he was going to win this battle; he gave a small smile as Raichu moaned and dropped to the ground, fainting from the poison.

“And Wraith has claimed victory!” the announcer roared as the two Pokémon were recalled back into their Pokéballs. “The next battle is between this level 35 male Charmeleon, and a level 37 Jynx who is, obviously, female.”

Mark looked hopefully up; Jynx had a slight level advantage, but Charmeleon had the types in his favor.

The two Pokémon were sent out at the sides. Charmeleon’s opponent was a humanoid-looking Pokémon in a red dress. This was, of course, just the standard Jynx outfit, similar to Hitmonchan’s gloves and tunic, and mainly served the purpose of keeping the people who were bothered by naked humanoid Pokémon at bay; it really limited the Pokémon’s ability to move freely. Jynx’s face, framed by straight blond hair, had purple skin, scary, white eyes and a round, pink mouth.

Charmeleon, who stood on the other side of the arena, looked calmly at Jynx, his arms folded. Then he moved his hand up to his mouth and breathed out a small flame. He absent-mindedly stared at it for a while; in the meantime, Jynx watched him suspiciously.

All of a sudden, the lizard hurled the small ball of fire at his opponent. Jynx’s dress was hit by it; she let out a very eerie scream and her purple hand glowed icy blue as she cooled it down.

“Clever,” the announcer commented. “Charmeleon has made up an attack. Wonder if he was at the Attack Approval yesterday?”

Jynx all of a sudden ran up to Charmeleon. He seemed somehow hypnotized and didn’t try to run away or attack; she came right up to him, closer, closer, closer… and then she planted a kiss on his cheek.

His eyes opened wide for a second, but as Jynx backed slowly away, he looked dizzy; Mark could’ve sworn he was drunk when he started teetering and muttering something while trying to reach for Jynx’s dress. A few people started laughing, including May; Mark felt his face go red.

“This Sweet Kiss confused Charmeleon thoroughly! What will he do now?”

He didn’t manage to do anything at all before Jynx started smiling eerily while staring into his eyes. Mark saw his Pokémon slowly put up a very dorky grin, before his mouth simply fell open.

“Jynx’s Attract keeps Charmeleon charmed!” The announcer snickered at his own pun while Charmeleon stood there drooling. Mark was probably the only person who wasn’t in hysterics by now; he wanted to sink into the ground when Jynx approached Charmeleon again and kissed him again, this time on the lips. Charmeleon joined heartily in; while they kissed passionately, Jynx slowly lowered Charmeleon onto the ground and closed her eyes. Charmeleon did the same.

As their lips were about to part, Charmeleon’s eyes suddenly opened. Realizing what he was doing, he ripped himself free of Jynx’s arms, wearing a disgusted expression.

“Charmeleon resisted Jynx’s Lovely Kiss! That is quite an achievement, mind you!”

How could I let myself be humiliated like this?!

He spat on the ground a few times, looking at his opponent with disgust before releasing a Flamethrower. It hit Jynx in the face, but before she could do anything, Charmeleon’s tail flame flared up to double its normal size as he leapt at Jynx and started clawing and biting like crazy.

“Charmeleon clearly doesn’t like being seduced! He expresses his anger with a Rage attack, and… yes, I think Jynx is down!”

It was true; Jynx was unconscious, her dress charred and ripped. Charmeleon shot her a nasty glare as they were both recalled.

“Our next battle is between a level 43 male Scyther and a male Absol by the name of Armageddon, level 45.”

Mark smiled to his mantis as he was sent out; his opponent was a big catlike creature with thick, white fur, a black face, red eyes and a sickle of sorts sticking out of the right side of his head.

“Absol!” Armageddon hissed, crouching down and leaping at Scyther. He jumped out of the way, but the Absol landed gracefully and turned immediately around to face Scyther again. They circled each other for a few seconds, but then Scyther flew straight at Armageddon with his scythes raised, glowing green. He managed to get a few rapid slashes in before the Absol swished his white-glowing blade and gave Scyther a cut across his chest. They stopped for a second to catch their breaths, but then Armageddon rushed back at Scyther, who blocked the blade with his scythes. He tried attacking back, but the Absol blocked that too.

In the long run, though, what gave Scyther an advantage was the fact that he had two blades while Absol only had one. It didn’t take him long to figure out the perfect way to use this to his advantage, and after that Armageddon was dead meat, receiving one slash after another without being able to do anything to prevent it. Finally, the Absol gave up and crouched down on the ground. Scyther’s expression showed no emotion as the two Pokémon were recalled.

“Armageddon surrendered, so Scyther is the winner!” said the announcer. “The final battle of round one is Casey the female Pidgeot, level 45, and a male Haunter, level 44.”

Two Pokémon were released, one of them an eagle-like bird with a crest of very long, golden and red feathers on her head, and the other a weird, wispy, purple shape with sinister eyes and a jagged red mouth. Two disembodied hands which clearly belonged to the creature appeared out of thin air at his sides.

Casey started rapidly flapping her wings; in a matter of seconds, she had whipped up a small whirlwind and sent it towards the Haunter. He let out some comical screams as his gaseous form was beaten around by the whirlwind and finally sent flying in a random direction; Casey destroyed the whirlwind with a few flaps of her wings in the right places as the ghost Pokémon floated dizzily back into the arena.

The Haunter’s hands started glowing bright red, along with his eyes. The flapping of Casey’s wings gradually slowed down as she floated irregularly towards the ground; as she landed there, her eyes closed and she collapsed, fast asleep.

Satisfied, Haunter started muttering to himself and then floated down to the sleeping bird Pokémon. His left hand touched her head lightly and he got an expression like he was trying to remember something; then he nodded and suddenly, a freakishly long, pink tongue came out of his mouth and licked Casey’s head crest. As her feathers dripped with saliva, she twitched violently, but didn’t wake up.

“And Haunter uses a Dream Eater attack on the defenseless Casey!”

As Haunter licked her again, Casey’s eyes opened. She shook herself while standing up, beating the ghost away with her wings at the same time. Haunter hurriedly floated to a safe distance as Casey took off into the air; then the ghost charged up a black orb of shadow in front of him, picked it up in his left hand and threw it at the bird Pokémon. This was a fatal mistake; Casey quickly started flapping her wings fast and the strong gust of wind turned the orb back to the user. Haunter let out a sound somewhere midway between a scream and a laugh before the orb clashed with him and they somehow negated each other out so they both vanished.

“Haunter’s Shadow Ball wouldn’t have worked on Casey anyway, as a Normal type,” the announcer explained as Casey and what was left of Haunter were recalled. “That concludes round one; now it’s time for the winners of round one to go on to round two!”

Mark suddenly now properly realized that all three of his Pokémon had won their battles. He smiled as it struck him that he himself not being a skilled battler ultimately meant that his Pokémon were more skilled than most of the other ones.

Still, it was a fact that a few levels could always beat skill.

“You’ve already been introduced to all the Pokémon, so now it’s just starting the next battle! Jolteon versus Scizor!”

Mark was startled. “Wait a minute,” he asked May, “wasn’t Scizor level 45? Why are they pitting her against Jolteon? They were pairing Pokémon of similar levels earlier!”

“They probably wanted to avoid making two of your Pokémon fight if possible,” May whispered back. “Besides, they weren’t exactly always fair earlier either. Maybe they like seeing one Pokémon get beaten to a pulp and another not needing much effort to win.”

“But still…”

May pointed down into the arena, where Jolteon and Scizor had been sent out, and Mark shut up.

Scizor has wings… I guess electricity is worth a try.

Jolteon charged sparks in his body and sent a bolt of lightning towards the big red bug. She easily leapt out of the way and then zoomed straight towards Jolteon with her pincers raised. She clamped both of them around his right front leg.

A sickening crunch followed by Jolteon’s scream of pain caused Mark to avert his eyes. He immediately regretted having entered Jolteon in the Pokémon Frenzy Tournament at all.

Jolteon, feeling pain like he had never felt before, pumped electricity into Scizor’s body in order to make her let go. She leapt backwards, leaving Jolteon to look at his awkwardly-angled leg and cringe. He whimpered; Scizor charged at him again, evaded a Thunderbolt and then knocked Jolteon out with a heavy blow to the head.

“Scizor has won this battle, and thus we proceed to the next one,” the announcer said as Jolteon and Scizor were recalled. “Fury the Hitmonchan and Jaws the Feraligatr are next up!”

“See?” Mark directed at May. “Those two are somewhere in between Jolteon and Scizor! They could have made Jolteon battle one of them and Scizor battle the other!”

May just shrugged. “Well, maybe they’re just lazy and are making the winners of the first two battles battle now or something.”

The two Pokémon were sent out – again, Fury walked by himself rather than being sent out from a Pokéball.

Fury was adjusting his gloves for a while, absent-minded; then all of a sudden, he sprang up and gave the alligator a good punch in the stomach.

“Fury’s decided to start this one with a Mach Punch!” cried the announcer. “Jaws – Jaws – he uses a powerful Slash attack, but Fury evades it!” he continued as the humanoid leapt out of the way of the Feraligatr’s claws. “Fury uses a Comet Punch – Jaws bites his arm – ouch!”

The red boxing glove on Fury’s free arm glowed white before he drove it into the alligator’s jaw.

“Fury gets Jaws to release him with a Mega Punch attack! And what does Jaws do…”

The Feraligatr, stumbling backwards, opened his mouth and sprayed a jet of high-pressure water at the Hitmonchan.

“It’s a Hydro Pump, but FURY EVADES IT! Wow, that’s some agility there! Fury charges – he Dynamic Punches Jaws right in the skull! Oww, that must’ve hurt a lot! Jaws is kinda dizzy – no, wait, he’s down! Jaws is down! Fury has won the match!”

The Hitmonchan smiled slightly as he walked out of the arena; a Pokéball recalled the unconscious alligator.

“Next up are Wraith and Charmeleon!” the announcer declared as the two Pokémon were sent out. “The ringwraith meets the lovebird!”

Charmeleon growled threateningly; some people laughed. Looking at Wraith with a gaze that could kill, he breathed a small flame into his hand like he had done in his battle with Jynx and clenched his fist. Then he darted towards Wraith with a roar; the much slower Umbreon couldn’t outrun him before Charmeleon slashed him with white-hot claws. Wraith shrieked in pain as his side was torn up.

“Ow, ow, ow!” was all the announcer said.

Charmeleon now breathed out a cloud of silky flames as Wraith tried to run away. Not built to dodge, he was hit by the full blast, screaming.

“Charmeleon is using quite a strategy here, folks!” the announcer explained. “He clearly knows that an Umbreon’s skin is very tough, and therefore heated up his claws before his Slash attack to cut deeper. Then, with open wounds there, Wraith is vulnerable, which serves Charmeleon’s main goal: making that Flamethrower hurt.”

Mark stared at his Pokémon, who was watching closely as Wraith attempted to stand up. That was, to say the least, very well thought-out for a relatively young Pokémon.

Wraith, who had been struggling to stand up, collapsed again. Charmeleon smiled victoriously as the two were recalled.

“The next match of round two is between Scyther and Casey the Pidgeot! It’s a match of talons and scythes!”

The eagle-like Pokémon was sent out on one end and Scyther on the other. Mark noticed that he was exhausted and the cut across his chest was just as bad as earlier – the Pokémon were clearly not healed between rounds.

Casey stood on the ground, tilting her head and looking at Scyther with an expression of disdain. The mantis just stared into her eyes until she suddenly looked up, spread her wings and took off. Scyther did the same, and they flew at each other. Unlike the very planned duel between Scyther and Armageddon, this was more of a cat fight; they scratched aimlessly at each other as quickly as they could, feathers raining down onto the ground. There was no way to see what was really happening until they took a short break to breathe after kicking each other backwards.

Casey’s missing and ruffled feathers were giving her a slightly hard time flying; Mark noticed that she was clearly flapping her wings faster than in her earlier, healthier state. Her left wing bled; Mark wasn’t sure if the red in some other places of her body was just blood from the wing or if they were individual wounds. Scyther, on the other hand, had gotten his slash from the earlier duel scratched up to bleed more, along with some minor scratches on various parts of his body.

The two Pokémon flew at each other again; Scyther’s strategy had changed, however, as he now focused especially on Casey’s injured wing like she had been focusing on his cut. Casey started having a harder time maintaining her altitude now, and this enabled Scyther better access to her wing. Finally Casey dropped to the ground, exhausted. Scyther also landed, panting. Mark was surprised to see that only Casey was recalled; Scyther was left in.

“And now it’s the semi-finals! Four Pokémon have gotten this far – which of them will compete in the final match? We’re about to find out, and in quite a battle – Scyther versus his own evolved form, Scizor!”

Scyther looked oddly up as the red, armored bug was sent out on the other side of the arena. He got up very slowly, clearly completely out of energy but determined nevertheless.

Scizor…

Scyther’s gaze attempted to tear the Pokémon in front of him apart.

Nobody can stop me now… I’m getting my revenge…

He dashed towards her as fast as he could in his current state; she leapt out of the way with relative ease.

Fast for a Scizor, are we?

Not that that’s saying much…

He darted towards her again; she was about to dodge him in the same manner as before, but he predicted her movement and tackled her to the ground. Scizor locked her pincers around Scyther’s arm and tightened her grip. This wasn’t quite as effective as it had been on Jolteon, since Scyther didn’t have any bones to break, but it bought her a second which she could use to get up. Scizor then zoomed at Scyther to attack him, but he smashed his scythe into her as she came within reach and sent her unexpectedly flying through the air, crashing down on the ground. As she tried to stand up, he jumped on top of her and pinned her down, quickly bringing his scythe to her throat.

Prepare to die, Scizor.

“STOP THE BATTLE!”

Scyther looked up; a tall, red-haired boy in the top row had stood up.

“He’s going to kill my Scizor!” the boy yelled.

“Scizor’s trainer,” the announcer said simply, “when you entered your Pokémon in the Pokémon Frenzy Tournament, you signed a waiver stating that you were aware of the rules of the Pokémon Frenzy Tournament. Trainers must not interfere with their Pokémon’s battles.”

“I DON’T CARE!” the trainer screamed. “THAT’S MY POKÉMON DOWN THERE!”

“The Pokémon Frenzy Tournament is free of all rules and restrictions of normal trainer battles,” the announcer said calmly. “The Pokémon are free to do whatever they want.”

“NO!” Scizor’s trainer roared as Scyther turned his attention back to his opponent. But his scythe didn’t move.

His gaze traveled back to the trainer, then to her again; then he slowly released her and stood up. Scyther said something, but nobody heard it through the roars of the other crowds. Scizor didn’t stand up, clearly admitting defeat; Scyther stared oddly at her as the two of them were recalled.

“That was quite a battle!” said the announcer cheerfully in some kind of a failed attempt to liven up the dead silence.

“I… I wouldn’t have wanted my Pokémon to be a murderer…” Mark whispered to May.

She shrugged. “Technically, he already is. Even if the Mew Hunter didn’t make him kill anybody, he’s a predator and…”

“Thank you, May,” Mark interrupted coldly.

“Well, our next battle is between Charmeleon and Fury the Hitmonchan,” said the announcer awkwardly; Fury walked into the arena on one side and Charmeleon was sent out of his ball on the other.

“I might add, if you don’t hate me too much,” said May shortly, “that if Charmeleon wins this, the final battle will be Scyther versus Charmeleon.”

Mark froze completely, his heart skipping a few beats. She was right; how could he not have noticed?

“Oh God…” he muttered. “They’re going to kill each other…”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that if I were you, Mark,” May pointed out. “See, even though Charmeleon has the type advantage, Scyther is at a much higher level, and a bigger and stronger Pokémon in general, besides being one of the very reasons that the Agreement tells Pokémon to specifically not aim their attacks to be fatal. So basically, Charmeleon is going to get sliced up.”

Mark would have commented on how stupidly calmly she said that, like she didn’t care, but he was too busy worrying.

“And I can’t interfere, as we saw when Scizor’s trainer tried to…”

“So we just need to hope Charmeleon loses big time now,” May finished. “Come on; Fury is at a higher level and fully evolved. Charmeleon isn’t very likely to win.”

“I guess,” said Mark, despite being absolutely not convinced. Charmeleon had proven himself to be very clever so far in the tournament, and he didn’t look at all about to lose very easily. Mark shifted his attention back to the battle; Charmeleon was just firing a Flamethrower which Fury dodged before punching the lizard in the stomach, chest and jaw in rapid succession.

“Fury used a Comet Punch, and Charmeleon doesn’t appear to be feeling very good…” said the announcer’s voice as the lizard bent over and spat some blood onto the ground. He looked up again, narrowing his eyes, and then breathed a flame into his hand. Fury leapt forward; Charmeleon grabbed the opportunity and threw the fireball. It singed Fury’s shoulder and he slightly lost his balance; landing awkwardly, he was vulnerable for a second and this allowed Charmeleon to jump on his back and dig his white-hot claws into the Fighting-type’s skin. Fury, while obviously in intense pain, didn’t let out a sound and stayed on the ground, slowly enveloping himself in a light blue aura. Charmeleon jumped off his back, and while Fury turned around, the lizard formed flames in his throat and released a bright blast of fire that hit Fury straight in the face.

“A nice Flamethrower, which has an even greater effect due to Fury’s current state – he used the energy he uses to perform Ice Punch to cool down the pain in his wounds, but this made him more vulnerable to sudden exposure to more heat.”

The Hitmonchan stumbled a few steps backwards, but then suddenly darted forward again as his fist glowed and delivered a punch to Charmeleon’s skull. The lizard was thrown harshly backwards, landing on his side. His consciousness seemed to be drifting away when he forced his eyes open and stood up.

“Charmeleon is clearly tough! That Mega Punch should have knocked him out for sure!”

Charmeleon fired another Flamethrower; Fury was getting too tired to dodge well and was partially scorched by the flames. After being hit, he held both of his gloved hands into the air before walking out of the arena. It was clear what this was: he had given up. Mark’s heart sank.

“And Charmeleon is the winner! It’s time for the final match: Scyther versus Charmeleon! Incidentally, they both belong to the same trainer – this will be interesting…”

“No, no, no, please, no…” Mark moaned. “I’m not watching…”

He started staring at an ancient, moldy piece of pink chewing gum that had been stuck on the back of the seat in front of him. May rolled her eyes and sighed.

Charmeleon grinned with satisfaction as Scyther was sent out on the other side of the arena. He growled an insult, but the mantis barely seemed to notice. He seemed absent-minded and strange.

It’s time… time to advance…

“Char…” he growled. “CHAARMELEON!”

He closed his eyes in deep concentration and clenched his fists.

“Mark,” May whispered, poking his shoulder, “you have to see this.”

Mark looked up. Charmeleon was slowly being wrapped in a white glow…

“Would you look at that!” the announcer yelled. “Charmeleon is evolving, here at the start of the final battle of the Pokémon Frenzy Tournament! Now, this is something you don’t see every day!”

Mark stared as his first Pokémon changed in shape for the second time. He grew much larger, the horn on his head split into two narrower ones, his head grew longer and more dragon-like, his neck and tail lengthened, and two leathery wings sprouted from his shoulders. The glow faded away to reveal a fully grown Charizard.

He let out an ear-splitting roar, glaring madly at Scyther. The mantis was clearly astonished, but kept calm. Mark noticed that he didn’t look about to attack at all for some reason.

Charizard bent over and started coughing up a bit more blood; however, he then appeared to get a better idea and spat it at Scyther instead. His face was covered in it and...

Blood.

Blood is red.

It clicked in Mark’s brain: something red in a Scyther’s eyes equals disaster. He quickly focused on the chewing gum again.

Charizard took off from the ground, trying out his new ability to fly. Scyther looked at him through a layer of bright red and then darted towards the nearest moving object with his scythes in the air: Charizard’s wings.

The dragon growled, swung his powerful, flaming tail and smashed it into Scyther’s body, throwing him to the ground. He got up again with some difficulty, blinking; the blood was clearing out of his eyes now, but this hesitation gave Charizard a perfect opportunity to smash his powerful tail into Scyther’s head, knocking him out and driving him face-down into the ground. Charizard flew slowly up with a triumphant smile, raising his tail.

One more attack is sure to get rid of him for good!

“No, please, no…” Mark prayed, still staring at the gum and refusing to look at what was happening.

Charizard lowered his tail slightly.

Why am I doing this again?

We hated each other… but why? I don’t remember him ever doing anything to me.

I… I got him to hate me back… I wanted him to hate me back…

I was afraid that he would attack Mark…

No… I was a jealous little idiot and convinced myself that that was why.

I’ve matured now… but my actions can’t be taken back…

Charizard stared at Scyther, lowering his tail completely.

What have I done?

He suddenly stopped flapping his wings and crashed into the ground.

“It… it looks like this terrifying battle ended in a draw,” the announcer said in a slightly trembling voice. “Charizard has given up, but Scyther doesn’t seem to be in very good condition either.”

-------

Mark never really remembered what happened after that. He just came to his senses as he lay on one of the couches in the Pokémon Center and looked at Nurse Joy’s face going in and out of focus as she told him that Scyther was no longer in critical condition.

He looked confusedly around. The windows were dark and the few people in the Pokémon Center were asleep. May appeared to have been sleeping on the next couch, as she was now sitting and rubbing her eyes as she listened to Nurse Joy explaining something about Scyther.

Mark stroked his forehead and shut his eyes, trying to recall what had happened. It all seemed hazy. He just remembered the battles. He checked his watch; it was half past two in the morning.

“Any questions?” Nurse Joy asked.

“Er, no,” Mark replied, not having listened to what she had been saying. “May, could you come over here?” he asked as the nurse walked back to the counter. Everything seemed out of order in Mark’s brain.

“What?” May asked as she sat down opposite him.

“I can’t remember anything.” Mark was getting a slight headache too. “Can you fill me in on what happened after the battle was over?”

May raised an eyebrow. “You don’t remember it? That’s weird.”

“No…” Mark muttered.

“Then again, it makes sense, because you were strange, to say the least.”

“What happened?” Mark repeated in frustration.

“Well, you suddenly stood up, walked down from the audience stands, cussed your head off at the Pokéball people for not recalling them earlier, took your Pokéballs to the Pokémon Center, handed them to Nurse Joy without an explanation so I had to tell her what happened, and then lay down here and stopped responding to anything. I waved my hand in front of your face and you didn’t even blink.”

“Huh?” Mark asked. “That’s weird… I don’t remember it at all…”

May just had a puzzled look on her face.

“It’s odd, really, I… wait, Nurse Joy! Charizard! How is Charizard?” Mark asked worriedly, suddenly remembering that Charizard existed. The nurse came back and sighed.

“Physically, he’s pretty much fine – just the normal Pokémon battle stuff. But he seems very depressed for some reason; he’s refusing to eat or drink, or even respond at all. I’m worried he’s trying to starve himself.”

“Can I talk to him?” Mark asked, concerned. The nurse nodded and led him into a blue room akin to the one where Mark had talked to Eevee at the Cleanwater City Pokémon Center. May followed doubtfully.

Most of the Pokémon inside were asleep or unconscious, lying in beds with various accessories for each one. Charizard was awake, however; he was lying flat on his stomach in a corner near a window, completely motionless and staring blankly straight forward.

“Charizard?” Mark asked carefully. The dragon didn’t react at all. Mark stood right in front of his eyes, but Charizard still seemed to be staring through him.

“Scyther is going to be all right, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

No reactions.

“Can he even hear me?” Mark whispered to Nurse Joy. She nodded gravely.

“He definitely can. He just ignores it.”

Something stirred on the other side of the room; Mark was surprised to see Scyther rising slowly up from one of the beds. Finally Charizard showed some signs of being alive; his eyes moved to the mantis and followed him across the room.

“Killing yourself won’t help.”

Scyther said this in a very calm voice, looking straight into Charizard’s eyes. The dragon closed his eyes and smiled weakly.

“Says who?”

Scyther chuckled. “At least I know what I’m talking about. My situation is very different from yours. Your problem is a thing of the past, a foolish mistake, which didn’t have any grave consequences.”

“It could have,” Charizard muttered. “I could have killed you…”

“But it didn’t happen, and that’s what matters,” Scyther simply said. “It is not going to make you suffer in the future unless you consciously let it.”

“I was despicable,” Charizard breathed. “I deserve to die.”

Scyther sighed deeply. “All right then. I’m coming with you.”

The mantis raised his scythe to his own throat. They looked into each other’s eyes for a while.

“You wouldn’t do it,” Charizard said suddenly.

“Wouldn’t I?” asked Scyther dangerously. “I’m not afraid of death. I’ve already died.” He chuckled slightly. “You know, it actually isn’t that bad in itself. But it isn’t the ultimate solution you think it is…”

He paused for a few seconds, but then continued: “I can’t say I was glad to be back, but I had no intention of killing myself again. Mark keeps me alive – being a trainer’s Pokémon gives me a purpose. And speaking of which… suicide would be a very bad way indeed to thank him for saving your life.”

That hit the spot. Charizard looked at Mark for a second; not much, but definitely an improvement. The two Pokémon stared at each other for a little while.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Charizard finally sighed. “I’ve been an idiot.”

“You’re already forgiven,” Scyther just said.

“Besides… we can always die later, can’t we?” Charizard smiled as he stood up. The mantis smiled back.

“Death is not to be feared…” Mark heard him mutter as the two Pokémon shook hands.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Look at Mark finally deciding to actually consult his Pokémon about a thing oh my god

The Pokémon Frenzy Tournament is pretty amazingly unethical. At least I was consistent enough about it to make a point of how slimy it is throughout, with the way they deliberately match the competitors to make for unequal, more brutal matches, but that really doesn't excuse "By the way, the vague waiver you signed means your Pokémon can murder each other and not only are we not going to do anything about it, you're not allowed to do anything about it either!" Fun for the whole family at this public festival, eh?

The idea that Scyther was in critical condition after the fight with Charizard, which consisted entirely of Charizard spitting some blood at him and then smacking him down twice with his tail, seems pretty weird, given how many battles I write where the injuries sound a lot more serious than that. I guess I also established they don't heal the Pokémon in between, so Scyther's also been through the fights with Armageddon, Scizor and Casey by this point, but nonetheless, I didn't make this actual murder attempt super convincing.

Back in the day, when I wrote this, this was possibly my favorite chapter of the entire fic (up to where I'd rebooted the previous version). A bunch of attempted murder and suicide was just exactly my idea of a chef's-kiss chapter of my Pokémon fanfic. Today, oh boy do I cringe at that final scene wherein Charizard is randomly suicidal and then gets over it in seconds because Scyther tells him it'd be ungrateful to Mark. I am sorry.

(Also why did I think I had to write every single battle of this 16-participant tournament including a bunch between random throwaway Pokémon we've never seen before and will never see again)

 

[Flyg0n]

This is up to the evolution stones part.

I still mantain this is absolutely one of my favorite trainerfics yet, I mean what a read. I literally never know what to expect. 10/10.

It was first and foremost a tourist attraction; it was generally considered a dodgy place to live, mainly because the thought of living underwater with only a glass dome to protect oneself from the Gyarados and Sharpedo outside and one’s life depending on some calculations about the oxygen percentage didn’t appeal to many people.

So the Sharpedo are the only thing people are worried about? Not also thousands of pounds of gallons of water drowning you? Do the people in aquarium city all have those H20 things I guess?

love Legendary Pokémon; I’d never miss that in my life

but you've never heard of the festival, lol.

I love Mark. What a fluff brain.

“It should work

how comforting lol

Gyarados had just done what he had told him; had that been the reason he lost?

....... yes. Yes Mark, yes it very much is oh my gosh

Mark realized with guilt that this was the first time that Dratini actually got to battle against a trainer

But Mark, you just said earlier that Gyarados was the one who hadn't battled much. Meanwhile poor Dratini is literally forgotten. Ah Mark....

even better, no time at all?

Bro what. Is poor Scyther just supposed to not defend himself at all and let his wings get holes burned in them?? Mark, I'd like to see you put up with a teammater doing that and be expected not to fight back.

Although Sycther, did you ever consider non-lethal defenses lol.

It’s just a subconscious reaction

.... what

I'm weepin this is wild. Whats that even mean? What a fantastic thing. Mark are you sure you shouldn't also be a hair more worried tooo???

Marge had to think he was an idiot.

Marge isn't the only one. :p

Yeah, did he really kill four kids?”

“Yes.” Alan nodded sadly. “I watched them all.”

“Huh?” Mark asked. “Why the heck did you keep coming back too see an evil, murderous Legendary Pokémon stare somebody to death?”

“He isn’t evil!” Alan protested.

“Killing four random kids sounds evil to me,” Mark said.

“Once you see him, you’ll change your mind,” Alan assured him. “You’ll just know it. It’s impossible that he’d kill those kids just for the sheer purpose of being evil.”

................
Rick is a nice guy, he has a brother you see. Same energy.

He had gooD REASON to kill them, OK

The lizard took a deep breath, faced Mark and closed his eyes. He immediately took on a bright white glow and started growing. In a matter of seconds, he changed into a Charmeleon. He smiled awkwardly and then started glowing again; as quickly as before, he changed back into a Charmander.

BRO
this is some PMD level madness up here.

not allowing yourself to want to catch him

So wait if you even briefly consider how catching a legendary but choose not to act on it, Chaletwo will still kill you? that seems unfair. Everyone has weird subconscious thoughts but I just having a thought is a death sentence. that seems overly harsh Chaletwo.

“I didn’t get one word of that

Me neither dude, me neither

We would like to wish you all to return any evolution stones you may not have used at the entrance.

Assuming May kept the stone in her pocket because she intended to steal it, this is hilarious irony and some stupidity/malpractice on the part of the attendants in charge.

Also this is the wackiest festival event ive ever heard of. Throw rocks at your pokemon. Even so its kind of funny and if the pokemon find it fun, I say why not.

also what the HECK did Eevee evolve into. I love how spikes are somehow involved seemingly. I guess 14 year old you really loved spikes and blood and edginess. Truly wondeful.

Honestly there's a lot else to love about these chapters. Monarking saving Mark, and Mark thinking 'I'm so unlucky' despite Mark actually frequently being very lucky.

Also, Gyarados's crimes going utterly unaswered and unaddressed. "Yeah I know he randomly ate a Sharpedo but... I'm not worried about it"
(I wonder if Gya hates Sharpedo? He also tried to kill the random sailors Sharpedo. HMMM :thonk:)

I have a :bigbrain: theory that Alan is Chaletwo. That's why he's auto-defensive of everything about Chaletwo. Also I till find Chaletwo's reasoning bonkers like that seems so unfair. These are dumb twelve-year olds, poor twelve year olds have silly thoughts all the time. Ah well! Also Mark is right here, it is super wierd that only ONE kid every year briefly considers catching Chaletwo. Maybe those 4 kids are the only ones who were actually dead serious about doing it??

Anyways I thoroughly look forward to the rest of this.

It's so ridiculously charming and entertaining, and even though it has its wacky stuff, it oozes a very determined 14-year old passion that makes it captivating. In some ways, there feels like there's a reckless abandon kids have to do almost anything in a story, and not care what anyone thinks. ANd even though it leads to some very weird stufff, it also leads to some just... fun things? Sometimes I wish I could recapture that energy or boldness.

Anyways, don't mind my brief philosophizing at the end, I'm having a ball here.

 

[Flyg0n]

Okay so chapter 22....

He closed the device. He realized that the right thing to do would probably be to release the Leta and let her go back to her mother, but even though he didn’t want to admit it, the greedy part of him just wanted a new Pokémon. He made up some quick excuse about her father being mean, and decided to keep her.

“Leta, go.”

The Pokémon came out of the ball, looking around.

“Are they gone?” she asked. Mark nodded.

“Can I come back here when you’ve made me strong?” She was staring in the direction that the herd had gone off to, clearly upset about her father and determined to prove herself to him.

Ok but WHYYY Mark omg. The funny part is this could easily have been about Hope not being accepted by the Herd for not being shiny and wanting to be captured to come back and prove herself later but instead, according to the laws of this universe, Mark decides to be a bum except...

Hope also makes no mention of wanting to leave a moment later, when she's released so...

“Yeah… I found Charmander outside, bought a Pokédex and set off… didn’t remember I had to get a license…” Mark felt horribly awkward, but he couldn’t train illegally forever.

MARK WHYYYY
YOU WERE EVEN WARNED ABOUT THIS EARLIER

“Alan,” Ash said, turning to his son, “that’s Charlie’s younger brother! Did you know that?”

“No,” Alan replied, looking at Mark. “It’s a small world, eh?”

a small world indeed oh my gosh

“Return, Sandslash,” Mark said softly. “You did a great job.”

However, you, Mark did not. You'd think by now Mark would have some battle skills lol, but Sandslash takes like two or threes hits and Mark never attempts to tell poor Sandy a counterattack or any kind of strategy like, Defense Curl at the last second so Hitmontop just kicks a bunch of spikes

Dragonair dropped limply to the ground, defeated.

Once more, Mark let his pokemon take three huge hits in which he never countered. If I was Mark's pokemon I'd need to have words with him, lol

“Great job, Leta!” Mark cheered. “Now, um…” He had no idea what kind of attacks Leta might be able to use; finally, he just decided to make his best available guess:

“Tackle!”

Will Mark ever, at any point, check his pokemons moves before he goes into battle.

“You passed,” he said, smiling.

I'd never have passed him. Ash is lots nicer than me :P

Its really great that Ash is there to conveniently fix the trainer license issue.

I do genuinely dig the idea of just asking the Pokemon what they think though. Scyther is by far my favorite pokemon here. How appropiately dramatic.(what's your fav? Oh, scyther too?)

Also i Guess Dragonair just has some fire powers, hehehehe. So crazy Mark is completely stunned by them. Hey Mark, do you think maybe you should research the pokemon on your team?

But the best revelation of this chapter (and maybe most disappointing) is that Eevee did not, in fact, evolve into SPIKEON. >:{

And uh. One other question. Charmeleon, Scyther, Gyarados, Sandslash and Leta. Mark.... did uh.... did you use Jolteon for that 6v6? Did I miss something? Or did Mark forget how to count.


What a truly bonkers festival this is so far. Im especially psyched for the next chapter, based on the art.

 

[Flyg0n]

He wasn’t the best battler, after all

this is putting it mildly mark

I prefer to win thanks to my own strategies, not my Pokémon’s.

This is both amusing and vaguely rude, but delightfully in character for May I guess. Her pokemon' strategies are apparently not valid

“That’s all settled, then?

lol when I read this my first thought was "But Mark, if you enter Jolteon, Charizard, and Scyther, then those two might end up fighting."

Earthquake?

how DARE Mark not know the typing of one of the greatest pokemon of all time. >:{

Everybody in the audience except May was surprised to hear this, Mark included.

I am very disppointed in the entire audience! SHAME!!! SHAME!!!

He had always thought Sceptile was ugly when he looked at the illustration in his Pokémonology textbook, mainly because the tail always reminded him of a Christmas tree; now that he saw one in real life, he thought it didn’t look so bad.

im crackin up. this feels very personal.

“Blade will now be escorted to the Pokémon Center to be taken care of,” the announcer assured. “He will be fine.

This sounds so fantastically forced. "He will be fine, no one question this extremely brutal event, move on now". Sounds like what a dystopian government announcer would say lol

This was, of course, just the standard Jynx outfit, similar to Hitmonchan’s gloves and tunic, and mainly served the purpose of keeping the people who were bothered by naked humanoid Pokémon at bay; it really limited the Pokémon’s ability to move freely. Jynx’s face, framed by straight blond hair, had purple skin, scary, white eyes and a round, pink mouth.

excuse me wat

Also this jynx battle was very... :u

Poor Charmeleon lol

male Absol by the name of Armageddon, level 45.”

Oh my gosh which edgelord named their Absol Armageddon??

He smiled as it struck him that he himself not being a skilled battler ultimately meant that his Pokémon were more skilled than most of the other ones.

This is definitely one way to look at it.

“The Pokémon are free to do whatever they want.”

ok but murder????

"hey we know you signed a waiver to enter the tournament, so if the Pokemon want to committ murder, you can't stop them- WATCH ME

i'll leap into that stadium myself!

madness aside, wow, this festival is very questionable.

May rolled her eyes and sighed.

Considering Sycther legit was ready to kill Scizor, May should be more concerned.

“Well, you suddenly stood up, walked down from the audience stands, cussed your head off at the Pokéball people for not recalling them earlier, took your Pokéballs to the Pokémon Center, handed them to Nurse Joy without an explanation so I had to tell her what happened, and then lay down here and stopped responding to anything. I waved my hand in front of your face and you didn’t even blink.”

.... what

Maybe this is another of those psychic things. Its very strange. This is the second time Mark has passed out due to Sycther, at least tangenitally.

Anyways, what a fantastic conclusion to Scyther and Charizards relationship. Charizard evolves and decides it was all very silly, gets Mcdepresso for .5 seconds, and Scyther says "stop that' and its over.

Also Mark are you not more worried that you had a whole blackout episode? you should be very worried lol :P

pls give me more of this incredible tale.

 

[Dragonfree]

Thank you for your most excellent reviews, I will treasure them. <3 And light a candle for Spikeon

Aaaand here's chapter 24, in which Mark continues to inexplicably have an uncontrollable compulsion to throw a ball at a legendary.

The Pokémon Festival – May 24th: The Threat​

​

“There are two events today,” May explained to Mark as they headed towards the Green Town Stadium. “First they’ve got Ash Ketchum’s starter Pokémon giveaway. Then there’s the Trainer’s Market, which sells stuff cheaper than you can get it anywhere else. I’ve heard they even have Master Balls.”

“Master Balls?” Mark asked curiously. “Do they sell them?”

“Only here, they’re expensive and there’s only one per trainer,” May replied. “But I’m still getting one.”

Master Balls, Mark thought, biting his lip. He couldn’t deny what he had first thought of when she said that. The uneasy feeling he had had in his stomach since he woke up to yet another nightmare about yellow eyes grew.

“Hey!” called a familiar voice as Mark and May were about to enter the stadium to watch the starter Pokémon giveaway. Mark turned around to see Ash and Alan walking to them and waving.

“Is that…?” May whispered in his ear.

“Yep,” Mark replied with a grin as she started staring at her fingernails. “Hi, Alan!”

“Hello, Mark,” said Ash. “I heard about yesterday’s incident. Are your Pokémon okay?”

“Yes…” Mark said. “Err, what Pokémon are you going to be giving out now?” He quickly changed the subject.

“We’ve got a very wide selection, but only one or two of most of them,” Ash explained. “This year we’re giving out most small Pokémon that evolve except really rare ones and ones that can’t battle out of water. Then we’ve got a Ditto, and that’s the only Pokémon we have that doesn’t evolve at all. Of course, the traditional starters are always the most popular, so we keep a bunch of them handy.”

“How does the starter giveaway happen, anyway?” Mark asked.

“Well,” Alan answered, “the kids get in line, tell us what Pokémon they’re considering, I say some stuff about the Pokémon they’re thinking about, and when they’ve confidently made up their minds, they get their Pokémon and trainer license and it’s the next person’s turn. Pretty basic.”

“Oh, so you’re in it too?” Mark asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Alan replied. “Dad thinks it makes the kids less nervous if they’re talking to a teenager, and at least not directly to him. Dunno if it helps, but I don’t mind doing it.”

“Oh, all right.” Mark paused. “Should we walk down to the stadium together?”

“Sure,” Alan answered. His father shrugged.

“Mmmm,” May mumbled.

-------

A horde of nervous ten-year-olds entered the stadium and looked timidly around at the audience. Ash was seated at a table beside a Pokéball transfer machine on the far right; Alan stood in front of the table with a microphone.

A very childish-looking blond-haired girl with a pink ribbon in her hair was first in line. She teetered unsteadily towards Alan and muttered something. He turned his microphone off and muttered a bit back, presumably to make her feel less shy.

“Umm, this is Joanne,” Alan announced, turning his microphone back on. “She was thinking about picking a Pichu…”

“NO!” screamed the small mousey-haired boy who was next in line. Joanne looked anxiously at him and then muttered something again.

“All right,” said Alan, “she’s changed her mind. She’s considering Bulbasaur. Bulbasaur is a Grass/Poison type and one of the original starter Pokémon that Professor Oak gave out to children in Kanto. It’s also Pokémon number one in the National Pokédex. It evolves into Ivysaur and later Venusaur, and likes to use spores and powders as well as direct offensive Grass attacks. They’re usually loyal, but tend to be a bit secluded and not the most social Pokémon around. So… Joanne, is this the Pokémon you want?”

She looked doubtfully at Alan like she had had an overload of information, but then nodded shyly.

“Great!” Alan said cheerfully as his father pressed some buttons on the Pokéball transfer machine and a red and white sphere fell out of the tube. Ash took the ball and handed it to Alan, who in turn passed it on to Joanne and gestured for her to send out the Pokémon. With a quick questioning glance at Alan, she lightly dropped the ball onto the ground. It popped open and the orb of red light inside it took shape into a green, spotted toadlike creature with a large plant bulb on its back. It blinked its bright red eyes a few times, looking up at its new trainer before extending two long, green vines from the base of its bulb and grabbing her hand with them. The crowd cheered, Joanne blushed and then recalled her Pokémon. She went up to Ash’s table and was handed a green Pokédex and a trainer card; then she shook Ash’s hand, her face bright red, and set off running out of the arena.

“And now,” Alan started, but didn’t get to finish his sentence; the mousey-haired boy ran up to him and screamed “PICHU!”, causing the microphone to produce an ear-splitting screech.

“Err,” said Alan, covering his ears, “Pichu is a…”

“I just want my Pichu!” the boy yelled as Alan quickly pointed the microphone away.

“Um, well… all right, I guess.” Alan shrugged and Ash quickly handed him a Pokéball to give to the hyperactive kid. The little boy tossed the Pokéball to the ground, jumping around in excitement as a small, yellow mouse-like Pokémon with diamond-shaped ears formed. It looked confusedly at the boy as he picked it up and hugged it.

Alan poked the boy’s shoulder. “Er… can’t you do that later? Go get your Pokédex.”

The boy hurried over to Ash’s table and stared at him with an expression of deep admiration. Ash smiled slightly and gave him a red Pokédex; the boy almost forgot to get his trainer card before bouncing out of the arena with his still confused Pichu.

A red-haired, tall boy was next; he walked up to Alan, cleared his throat and said into the mirophone: “I’d like a Ditto, please.”

“There goes the most unique one,” Alan said as a few kids groaned in disappointment. “Ditto is the only Pokémon we’re giving out that doesn’t evolve, and also the only non-legendary Pokémon in the world with the ability to transform into other Pokémon. Ditto is perfect for strategists, because when Ditto has transformed it is exactly as powerful as its opponent and the more skilled trainer will win. Is this your choice?”

“Yes,” said the boy nervously. Alan nodded; his father handed him a Pokéball which he then gave to the boy.

“Thanks,” the boy said, smiling as he dropped the Pokéball to the ground. A pink blob resembling a blotch of chewing gum with two tiny eyes and a thin mouth came out of the Pokéball.

“Ditto!” it squeaked before transforming into an exact replica of its trainer. He smiled and shook Ditto’s hand before recalling his Pokémon again.

-------

Once the starter Pokémon giveaway was over, they had a bit of free time while preparations for the Trainer’s Market were being made.

“I think I’m going to call home,” Mark said as they exited the arena. “Nothing better to do, and my parents would probably be happy to hear from me. After all, it would be the first time since I started my journey.”

May shrugged. “My parents know I’m doing fine, even if I don’t call them.”

“I still want to call,” Mark said decisively. “You coming with me to the Pokémon Center?”

“No,” she said simply. “Your parents, your call.”

“See you at the Trainer’s Market, then.”

“Bye.”

Mark walked to the Pokémon Center and got permission to use the videophone. He picked up the receiver and dialed the number nervously.

“Hello? Mark?” came a deep male voice at last. The black screen displayed a picture of Mark’s father; he looked very worried. Mark saw his mother in the background hurrying up to the videophone. She looked worried too.

“Hi, Dad,” said Mark.

“Where are you?” Mark’s mother interrupted.

“Um, Green Town Pokémon Center,” he replied confusedly. His parents looked at each other; then his father turned back to the camera and sighed.

“Look, Mark… you’re not about to go see Chale-thingy tomorrow, are you?”

“Well,” he replied, “I’m not sure…”

“You’re not going!” his father hissed, narrowing his eyes and leaning towards the camera. “You’re not coming anywhere near that thing! Do you understand me?”

“Why?” Mark asked, confused. “How do you even know what Chaletwo is?”

“Look,” came his mother, pushing his father away, “we just wanted to keep you safe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mark asked hotly.

His father sighed. “We didn’t allow you to go on a Pokémon journey. We talked to the librarian about putting books involving Cha-whatever somewhere away. We did our best to prevent you from hearing about the Pokémon Festival. We did it all because we knew that as soon as you found out about it, you would want to see it and get yourself killed. Now, don’t let all that effort be wasted.”

“What?” Mark asked furiously. “You’ve been trying to keep it away from me? What sort of parents are you?”

“Parents who care about you, that’s what sort!” Mark’s father hissed. “Now promise me you’ll stay away tomorrow. Just lie somewhere in your hotel room and pretend not to exist or something. Do you understand?”

Mark didn’t answer.

“Mark? Mark? Can you hear me? What…”

He placed the receiver on the side of the videophone. The image on the screen flickered and disappeared.

Anger boiled within him. He had thought his parents were overprotective before, but this was the last straw. He couldn’t stand the idea of having had all that kept from him for so long. So that was why they had never seemed to have anything against him going on a Pokémon journey until five years ago. And why he had never found any books about the Ouen legendaries before, and didn’t know anything about the Pokémon Festival. So many mysteries were explained by this one phone call.

To get his mind on something else, he looked at his watch and decided that he might as well walk down to the stadium again for the Trainer’s Market. He kicked some stones along the way and decided that this call was nobody’s business but his own.

He momentarily forgot about it when he entered the stadium. Dozens of sale stands were now standing there in neat rows; trainers of all ages were gathered around them to buy all the items they could dream of. The biggest crowd, however, was gathered around one stand, which Mark guessed was the one with the Master Balls. Hesitating, he walked up to what he presumed was the end of the line. Slowly the crowd thinned and he finally got to the stand. He took out his trainer card, remembering that they could be used as credit cards.

“You’re selling Master Balls, right?” he asked, just to be sure. The brown-haired man on the other side nodded as he adjusted his sunglasses slightly.

“Okay… I’ll have one.”

The guy inserted Mark’s trainer card into a slot on a small box. It beeped and a purple and white sphere with a small white ‘M’ on the front materialized on top of it.

“Here,” the man said, handing it back to Mark along with his trainer card and a booklet. He quizzically looked at it; the front of it said ‘Master Ball safety manual: Read before use.’

“Hey, get a move on,” a voice said behind him, and Mark moved to the side. He bumped into a boy with a pale face and long, black hair.

“Victor?”

“Mark!” Victor exclaimed. “I thought I’d never find you! We were going to meet at the festival, remember?”

Mark blushed. “Oh, I forgot.”

“It’s all right,” said Victor. “Um… is May here somewhere? Oh, there she is.”

Victor waved to her where she was somewhere in the crowd. She doubtfully waved back and then came to them.

“You’re the Mutark guy, right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Victor confirmed. “I wanted to speak to you two.”

May raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Well…” Victor began, swallowing, and then sighed and gestured for them to follow him out of the stadium. He was only happy when they were standing by the side wall, out of everybody’s earshot.

“What is this all about?” May asked impatiently.

“Er…” Victor started again. “Well, after you two had both left Scorpio City, Mitch told me that… that he had a feeling something would happen to you.”

Mark got a sinking feeling in his stomach; May just raised her eyebrow further. “And? It’s not like he’s psychic or something.”

“He is,” Mark muttered miserably, remembering what Victor had told him when they had met outside Scorpio City.

“It’s just a rumour, of course,” Victor quickly added. “But I’d still be careful if I were you – they say he has foreseen deaths and stuff.”

“I don’t believe in rumours,” May said firmly, not looking very convinced. Mark didn’t say anything. He just thought about Mitch’s odd, hypnotic stare, the strange things he said and the way he had asked if Mark had dreamt anything. As much as he’d have loved to label it as just a rumour, it didn’t seem all too unlikely that there was more to Mitch than met the eye.

“Well, that’s all,” Victor said nervously. “I’ll… see you around, I guess.”

“Bye,” said May doubtfully. Mark mumbled something. Victor waved slightly and walked off.

“Do you think he’s just trying to scare us?” May asked after a moment’s pause.

“He didn’t seem like it,” Mark muttered.

“Mitch could be wrong, too,” May suggested.

“Could I be wrong?”

Mark jumped and turned around to find Mitch suddenly standing there with a mysterious smile on his lips.

“Was what Victor said true?” May just asked.

“We had that conversation, yes,” said Mitch and nodded slowly.

“But what…” Mark began, but Mitch was already walking off. Puzzled, the two kids looked at each other.

-------

Mark felt uneasy for the remainder of the day. May was quieter than usual too; he felt a strange need to keep her company. They stuck together until they went to their Pokémon Center rooms in the evening.

Mark didn’t feel like going to sleep for some reason, so he picked up the booklet he had received at the Master Ball stand.

IMPORTANT NOTICE

The Master Ball, while capable of holding any Pokémon no matter how powerful, will not automatically sway a Pokémon to obey you any more than a normal Pokéball will. Remember that Pokémon respect their trainers in accordance with their training experience and kindness, not their equipment! Always show caution when attempting to capture powerful Pokémon. If it appears unhappy about being captured, release it straight away and do not give it a reason to dislike you.

The Master Ball is best kept until you are an experienced trainer, and is wisest to use on a Pokémon that is rare rather than one that is powerful.

Mark read the words dully. He wasn’t an idiot; this text basically translated to, “Don’t do anything foolish like trying to catch Chaletwo even though he’s appearing tomorrow.” He put the booklet down and sighed before taking out his sketchbook and starting to draw.

He was lost in his own world for a while as his hand shot across the paper and drew the outlines of a Lugia. After the Lugia, he added a Zapdos, and a Moltres, and an Articuno…

He slowly got drowsy and in the end he realized that he had been dozing off for a few minutes while drawing. He stared at what he drawn while half-asleep.

Wow, that’s my best Mewtwo ever, was his first, somewhat sleepy thought. Then a cold shiver ran down his spine as he realized that its eyes were closed.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

PLOT TWIST: Mark's parents pulled strings with the local librarian to ensure Mark somehow manages to never hear about the legendary Pokémon who appears publicly every year at the festival where he wanted to go to get a starter, and who has murdered four kids in the past four years which one would have assumed was pretty big news discussed by someone in town. And this worked, somehow. And they did this instead of just... talking to Mark about why maybe he shouldn't go see a legendary Pokémon who will probably murder him. Excellent choices all around.

This was a new scene in this version, and it wasn't planned when I started this one either. It was just kind of an ad-hoc twist I came up with to try to retcon how Mark didn't know anything about Chaletwo, but unfortunately it's quite ridiculous and really doesn't make the whole thing make a whole lot more sense.

I love Mark asking "How do you even know what Chaletwo is?" as if everything he's been learning shouldn't have made it extremely clear that it's super weird he'd never heard of Chaletwo.

Starter Pokémon in the QftLverse are volunteers, but of course I didn't do a lot to show or emphasize this here. Wouldn't any of them want to screen their prospective trainers, rather than just being handed off to them after they pick a species? Shouldn't they, you know, get to see if they click, at all?

It's pretty silly that I went out of my way to make Master Balls a thing that is sold to regular trainers in this fic. As the booklet points out, a Master Ball won't cause a Pokémon to actually consent to being captured any more than any other ball - so why is people buying them even a thing? What legitimate purpose is there to a regular trainer using a Master Ball in this world? At best it could make sense as a self-defense tool, to stop a powerful rampaging Pokémon.

 

[Dragonfree]

Dun dun duuuun... it's time. Time for Chaletwo arriving, the start of the plot proper, and some legendary bickering.

The Pokémon Festival – May 25th: Chaletwo's Arrival​

​

Mark just suddenly realized that he was awake. He couldn’t recall waking up, or dreaming anything. That was a relief.

He reached for his watch and looked at it. It was seven in the morning. He sighed, closing his eyes. He didn’t feel tired at all.

His stomach fluttered as he thought about what day it was. His father had told him to stay in his room, lie on his bed and pretend not to exist. That was probably the wisest thing to do. His inner voice of reason told him that over and over with convincing, step-by-step arguments.

And there was really no voice to speak against it, because there was no question about it. There was no way to logically argue that he should rather take the risk and see Chaletwo. There was just a power that could silence all logic immediately. And Mark knew that there was no way he could lie in a room and wait while the most powerful Pokémon in the world was appearing outside. He just couldn’t.

He had a funny, numb feeling as he sat up in his bed and reached for his Pokéball belt at the foot of his bed. He took Sandslash’s Pokéball – no particular reason why, he just felt like it – and dropped it lightly onto the floor. Sandslash came out of it and looked around.

“What is it?” he asked.

Mark shrugged. “Nothing. Just felt like talking.”

“About what?”

“Anything.”

They didn’t say anything for a while. Finally, Mark sighed.

“The other day when I got my trainer license… it made me think,” he muttered. “I… do you really like me and the way I train you?”

“Well,” Sandslash sighed, “there is something I wish you would do.”

“What?”

“Let us outside a bit more. We would all love to be able to run around freely for a bit sometimes when you’re not doing anything. Pokémon don’t like being stuffed inside Pokéballs for too long.”

“Yeah,” Mark muttered. Neither of them said anything for a little while.

“I’m not sure I’m such a good trainer,” Mark said quietly.

“You are,” said Sandslash softly. “I am very grateful for you.”

“Why?” Mark asked. “I’m lousy. Take May…”

“You are a much better trainer than her,” Sandslash said immediately.

“But how?” Mark asked miserably. “Are you really being honest?”

“Well,” the Pokémon began slowly, choosing his words carefully, “when you first caught me, I thought you weren’t a very good trainer at all. I always lost and stuff…”

He trailed off, but then continued: “But then I slowly started realizing that… Well, when you’re a young Pokémon, you think of a trainer as a method of getting strong and nothing more than that, which was why I wasn’t happy to find that you didn’t appear to have much more skill than I did by myself. But then I just started to realize that you cared and really hated not being better, because you felt like you were being a lousy trainer for us. And that… touched me. The reason Pokémon tolerate the limits set by being possessed by a trainer, and thus the reason Pokémon training can work in the first place, is that it usually gives Pokémon an opportunity to be stronger, but in the long run, Pokémon don’t live for that. The reason Pokémon stay true to their trainers after the trainers retire and the Pokémon have reached the physical limits of their strength is that through a trainer’s journey around the world, strong bonds are formed between trainer and Pokémon. This is what keeps Pokémon training alive and what makes it so magical – and this is why you are a better trainer than for example May, who is an extraordinarily good battler, but will never feel like anything more to her Pokémon than a temporary training stage in their lives. It’s sad that so many Pokémon stay with a trainer for years, never realizing how much more there is to life with a trainer than battling.”

“I… wow,” Mark just said.

“Take now, for example,” Sandslash said. “When you’re a young, wild Pokémon, you don’t expect your trainer to send you out just to talk to you. It’s just not in your image of what you believe the purpose of a trainer is. When that happens, though, you realize that this is one of those moments that make you really appreciate your trainer, more than winning some battle will ever do. You’re a great trainer, Mark. May is everything a Pokémon looks for in a trainer – you are much more.”

Mark felt strangely warm. “Wow… thanks…”

“But as I said,” Sandslash continued, “we’d really love some more outside time. You should try that sometime soon.”

“I will. Thanks,” Mark said, smiling.

-------

Mark spent the day as if it were his last. He didn’t encounter May at all, but he was feeling so different that he was kind of glad for that. He focused on enjoying himself, such as by buying a lot of candy, and had a weird, hyperactive ‘happy’ attitude throughout the day. He had no idea why he wasn’t more nervous. He just felt crazy.

That changed, however, when it drew closer to four o’clock. Suddenly the voices in his head were all screaming again; he wanted to go back to the Pokémon Center as he walked past it, but his feet wouldn’t obey and continued towards the slowly gathering crowd of people in the patch of grass just outside the city borders.

A circle with an approximately five-meter radius had been marked off in the grass. Nobody stepped into it. Mark felt numb as he found himself a place behind a few other people; he could peek out between them.

He waited for what seemed like an hour; then somebody in the crowd shouted “Ten!” The rest of the audience joined in with the countdown.

“…Four! Three! Two! One!”

And suddenly Chaletwo just stood there in the middle of the circle.

He wasn’t like Mark had expected. The illustrations in the book about the Ouen legendaries didn’t capture the way he looked at all. Yes, he had the exact same, lavenderish-white skin as Mewtwo, same strong legs but thin arms, same bulgy toes and fingers, same distantly human torso and catlike head – and, indeed, his eyes were closed. But the artist had missed two important details. One was that it was clear that Chaletwo was looking through his eyelids; he didn’t even distantly look like Mewtwo with closed eyes. The other was that Alan had been absolutely right: Chaletwo was obviously not evil. It wasn’t hard to imagine him as evil from looking at the pictures, but Mark just realized suddenly that he had been wrong. He had no idea why, but it didn’t seem like something to question. It was just true.

Everybody was immobilized as Chaletwo looked over the crowd. He then started turning slowly around to see the rest of the audience. Mark’s heart hammered in his chest as the legendary turned towards where he was.

And stopped.

The people in front of Mark automatically shifted to the sides before he knew, and he found himself rooted in place, looking straight at Chaletwo’s closed eyes. After what seemed like an hour, during which Mark’s mind and body were completely frozen, Chaletwo finally turned away.

Mark released his breath as Chaletwo was no longer looking at him.

He’s facing away. You could just throw the Master Ball.

The voice spoke clearly out in Mark’s head before he could help it. Chaletwo turned sharply back towards him; Mark stared desperately at the legendary with only one thought in his head: I don’t want to die now.

Chaletwo’s eyes opened.

The first thing that occurred to Mark was that the ‘Good or Evil?’ poster in the Pokémon Center had gotten Chaletwo’s eyes completely wrong too. On the poster they had been bright yellow, but they were so much more than that. They were terribly, blindingly, unearthly yellow, their brightness piercing through his eyes like a knife, yet so oddly beautiful that he didn’t want to look away.

Then, all of a sudden, Mark felt a burning hand ripping his heart out through his chest. The pain was unthinkable; he screamed, but the sound seemed unrealistic and far away. He faintly heard an echo of other people’s screaming as his vision faded to black, all except for the horribly, horribly bright eyes that were somehow the worst part of all.

-------

Suddenly, it all stopped. The pain was gone. Everything around him was eerily dark and silent.

What happened? he thought.

“Your consciousness has been separated from your body,” answered a calm, telepathic voice. Mark somehow knew it was Chaletwo.

“What… wait a minute… are you saying I’m… dead?” he asked slowly.

“That’s the basic idea, yes,” Chaletwo replied.

“But I can’t be dead!” Mark protested. “I’m right here!”

“Here is nowhere,” was Chaletwo’s confusing answer.

“That doesn’t work,” Mark argued. “We’ve got to be somewhere, if you’re here.”

“No,” Chaletwo said firmly. “I took you to a place that doesn’t exist. We’re in a void of nothing.”

“Why can’t I see you?” Mark wondered.

“You are dead. A floating consciousness,” Chaletwo replied. “Without eyes, you cannot see.”

“But how can I be dead? I mean, if my brain isn’t here, how can I be thinking?”

Chaletwo sighed. “You are as dead as a brick, human. If you’re still not convinced, tell me if you’re breathing.”

Mark waited a few seconds; he couldn’t deny it.

“I don’t think I am,” he muttered. “Fine, I’m dead. But why did you kill me? And those other kids?”

“I needed to talk to you,” Chaletwo answered.

Mark was getting slightly annoyed. “Can’t you talk to people without killing them first?”

Chaletwo sighed. “No, I can’t. Somebody can always overhear, and I can’t teleport a living body to a place that doesn’t exist – there’s no oxygen here, so you would die. And humans are exceedingly easy to fool if you know how to do it. You always think in this ‘If you can do something, you’ll do it’ fashion. Very stupid, of course, but makes it infinitely easier for me to convince you that I kill people for no reason without anybody getting even slightly suspicious. Humans are so blind, it’s entertaining.”

“Huh?” Mark asked confusedly.

“Well,” Chaletwo said, “your parents will cry their eyes out, and those crazy people will write some more articles about how evil I am, but after a while your death will be accepted and you can peacefully walk around with nobody the wiser.”

“What do you mean, walk around?” Mark asked, puzzled. “I can’t walk around if I’m dead.”

“You won’t be dead anymore,” said Chaletwo impatiently. “What good can a floating consciousness do even after you talk to it? I’m going to resurrect you after we finish talking. I just hope Molzapart is coming.”

“Molzapart?” Mark was even more confused now. “Is Molzapart in this with you?”

“Of course,” Chaletwo said like it was something obvious. “We’re good friends… Oh, here he is.”

Another telepathic voice sounded out of the void.

“Hmm… kinda foolish, that one, don’t you think, Chaletwo?”

“Foolish is fine,” Chaletwo replied. “Better, even. We don’t want logic to get in our way. Molzapart, would you imagine some sight for him?”

Mark could suddenly see the two Legendaries as if it were a memory he was recalling in his mind. Molzapart looked like a golden-feathered bird with blue tips on his wing feathers, a long beak and a flame burning on his head. He also had a long, wavy tail feather that Mark recognized from Articuno.

“Wow,” he said, astonished. “This is cool. Why didn’t you let me see like this earlier, Chaletwo?”

Chaletwo sighed. “Only Molzapart can mess with memories.”

“While poor widdle Chaletwo can just kill people,” Molzapart teased.

Chaletwo glared at him. “Don’t listen to him; I’m keeping balance in the world, while Molzapart’s powers are just toys to play around with.”

“Will you two just tell me what this is all about?” Mark said in frustration.

“Sorry,” Molzapart said. “We got carried away. What we wanted to tell you is… well…” He looked at Chaletwo. “Where to begin?”

“See,” Chaletwo began, “once every thousand years, a great disaster happens.”

“Yes,” Molzapart confirmed. “This disaster is called the War of the Legends. What happens is that the legendary Pokémon will lose power, at different rates depending on how powerful they already are, until they are all equal and virtually powerless.”

“Why does this happen?” asked Mark, confused.

“Because of a Pokémon,” Chaletwo replied, “which we have never seen, but is called the Destroyer. It appears to drain power from the legendaries, very slowly at first but becoming more noticeable over the course of the last hundred or so of those thousand years, always faster and faster. When the legendaries are almost out of power, the Destroyer sends the power multiplied back, and all this power finds all the Legendaries in the world again… and when they suddenly gain all this power, they all go insane somehow. Basically, once the legendaries are all mad, they will seek each other out, kill all the other legendaries they can find, and fight so viciously that everything in their path is destroyed. They will keep fighting until only one of them is left alive.”

“And the one that is left alive,” Molzapart said, “will then have the responsibility of creating new life and making the world whole again.”

“Wait a minute, how do I come into this?” Mark interrupted.

“We’re getting to that,” Chaletwo said. “The thing is… if there were no legendaries to receive that power, the War of the Legends couldn’t happen. Molzapart and I started noticing our power loss around twenty years ago or so, so we talked to Mew about it. And Mew told us about this – he was the survivor of the last War of the Legends – and we became very concerned. So we asked Mew if we couldn’t just get all the legendaries to agree on being inside Pokéballs when this happened, as that might prevent it all from happening. Unfortunately, though, Mew just said some nonsense about not trying to avoid the inevitable and refused to help us, and the other legendaries we talked to weren’t too happy about us telling them to get caught when Mew had forbidden us to tell them what it was really about. So we decided that we’d have to take them by force, and Molzapart started killing kids, erasing everybody’s memories of them, and trying to get them to go out and try to capture the other legendaries. However, we didn’t have as much success as we’d have hoped – the kids were terrified of legendaries and didn’t want to come anywhere near them. Then, a few years ago we were getting really worried, and we had the idea of letting me try – after all, everybody knew where and when I appear every year, and people who are passionate about legendaries always came to watch me. So I could just look over the crowd and search for someone more suitable to trying to capture legendaries. I was a lot more successful than Molzapart ever was.”

Molzapart snorted. “Successful, maybe, but you’ve always done it rather sloppily. Too busy being a guardian to even attempt to cover your tracks. Look at the reputation that has gotten you.”

“That was never the plan,” Chaletwo snapped. “I have a protective aura that should be convincing everybody that my intentions are good. Humans are just too stupid to see it.”

“And…” Molzapart looked at Mark, “the human thinks your way, even if successful, could use some improvement comfort-wise.”

“I… I don’t know what Death Stare feels like!” Chaletwo said defensively. “And I’m not ‘too busy being a guardian’! That’s what I exist to be!”

Molzapart snickered. “What a lovely guardian, with lethal weapons in his eye sockets.”

“Chalenor had them too!” Chaletwo said sharply.

“Yeah, how come the guardian before you had lethal weapons in his eye sockets? Bit hypocritical if you ask me.”

“Don’t you dare insult Chalenor in my ears!”

Mark wasn’t feeling that nice at all. Something about them arguing made the atmosphere very uncomfortable.

Stop it, he thought desperately.

“Are you asking to be attacked?”

“I’ll show you an attack!”

A dark purple orb formed between Chaletwo’s hands while Molzapart took an electric blue glow.

“STOP!” Mark’s mind screamed. The two Pokémon looked at each other; Chaletwo pressed the orb together into nothing and Molzapart’s glow faded.

“Sorry,” Chaletwo sighed. “This is all putting us under a lot of stress. We keep arguing… it’s lucky this didn’t turn into an early start of the War of the Legends.”

“So basically,” Mark said, getting back on topic, “you want me to somehow go out and magically catch all the legendary Pokémon?”

“Well,” Chaletwo said, “we got some unexpected help. Rick, the Cleanwater City gym leader, has simplified the problem immensely by catching a great many of the Legendaries for us. He released some of them, such as Suicune, but most he kept for further experiments. And the other trainers have seen successes too, but admittedly it’s getting so close now that you’re the last trainer we’re asking for help. The legendaries yet to be caught are Articuno, Mew, Entei, Suicune, the Waraider herd, the Color Dragons, and Rainteicune.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” asked Mark miserably. “There’s no way I can catch like twenty Legendaries before they all go mad! You’re not even sure if it’s going to work in the first place!”

Chaletwo sighed. “At least you can try.”

“Why me?!” Mark asked.

“Because you’re a foolish little kid who confronts Legendaries when he knows he shouldn’t,” said Molzapart tiredly.

“We just need help here,” Chaletwo said. “If you do it, we’re probably still all going to die. But if you don’t do it, we are all going to die.”

“I guess,” Mark replied doubtfully.

“So, is that all?” Molzapart asked questioningly, turning to Chaletwo.

“I think so,” Chaletwo answered. “Make him remember all of this before you leave, though.”

Molzapart’s eyes glowed deep blue and the memory of the conversation in Mark’s mind was strengthened. He wasn’t sure if it was really needed; he felt like he could never forget even the smallest detail of this. Then Molzapart flickered and disappeared, and Mark could no longer picture what was happening.

“Well,” Chaletwo said, “any questions?”

“Why do you look like Mewtwo?” Mark asked, having wanted to ask this question during the whole conversation. “And why do you have a two in your name? Are you a super-clone?”

“That’s not the kind of question I was hoping for,” Chaletwo mumbled.

“Can’t you still tell me?”

Chaletwo sighed deeply. “Before the last War of the Legends, there was a Pokémon called Chalenor – you heard me mention him when Molzapart and I were arguing, didn’t you? – and Chalenor was like me. The Destroyer isn’t alone; there is a triad, the Creator, Preserver and Destroyer. The Creator is Mew, because Mew survived the last War of the Legends. The Preserver is me, but used to be Chalenor.

“Chalenor had the same powers I do, so he could travel through time, just like me. Once he happened to venture far into the future and find Mewtwo there. Mewtwo was interested in Chalenor’s time when he heard that Mew had existed then – Mew and Chalenor were good friends.

“So Chalenor agreed to take Mewtwo to his time, but what they didn’t know was that at that time, the War of the Legends was rapidly approaching. And while Mewtwo was still there, the Destroyer made all the legendaries mad – including Mewtwo.

“Chalenor died in the War of the Legends, like everything else. So did Mewtwo. Only Mew was left alive. When his madness wore off, Mew found Chalenor’s body and realized that the Preserver was no more. But his left eye was lying there and was still loaded with power, and in a desperate attempt to save everything that could be saved, Mew transferred the life force contained in the eye to the nearest whole body – Mewtwo’s – and created new life in it. That was me. Chalenor’s powers in Mewtwo’s body.

“I was Mew’s first creation, helping to create new Pokémon under Mew’s supervision, and the new Preserver. Mew called me Chaletwo, because I was Chalenor’s heir as a guardian of life, and in honour of Mewtwo, whose body I was created in.”

“Wow.” Mark was surprised; nothing he had managed to think of since learning about Chaletwo had come close to any of that. “Can I ask another question?”

“Fire away.”

“Can I tell somebody about all this?”

Chaletwo took a bit of time to think, but finally answered: “You should not flaunt it – the legendaries might hear it. If you really trust somebody, you can tell them, but Molzapart is really getting too weak for the trouble of mass memory modification. You should talk to Ash Ketchum, though – that’s very important. I’ll resurrect you a little while in the future so you’ll be pretty much forgotten – Molzapart will help with that too. At first when you’re back to life, you’ll be unconscious, but when you wake up, I will be in one of your Pokéballs and might communicate with you occasionally for as long as I have the power to.”

“Is that all I need to know?” Mark asked nervously.

“Should be, yes,” Chaletwo replied.

“I’m never going to manage this,” Mark muttered.

“Just remember that you’re our last hope.”

Mark felt himself fading away. The last thing he heard was Chaletwo’s echoing voice:

“You… have… to… try…”

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

Sandslash: You're an amazing trainer, Mark. Look how you let me out just to talk.
Also Sandslash: We kind of never get to spend time outside of our balls, maybe you can let us out sometimes?

It's silly because I sort of enjoy the core of what he's saying there, about the difference between what Pokémon expect from trainers and what makes for a really good trainer, but singing Mark's praises for doing stuff like sending out his Pokémon just to talk, when this is literally the first time he's done this, just feels so shallow. Please imagine this is a thing Mark's actually been doing the whole time.

So the answer to why people like Alan were convinced Chaletwo is Just Good is... he has a magic brainwashing aura that's supposed to convince people of this, and he's very mad that apparently some humans are so stupid it doesn't work on them. Totally not sinister at all. This is also about to get quietly ditched and never brought up again. What a bonkers concept.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed this wild introduction to the main plot wherein Mark's main reaction to being murdered and asked to capture every legendary is, somehow, confusion and mild irritation. As one does.

 

[Flyg0n]

You are as dead as a brick, human.

Gosh this quote killed me, idk why. Its so. casual. Im dead. (and so is Mark)

“once every thousand years,

Its always a 1000 years. Never like. 862 years or something.

“Because of a Pokémon,” Chaletwo replied, “which we have never seen, but is called the Destroyer. It appears to drain power from the legendaries, very slowly at first but becoming more noticeable over the course of the last hundred or so of those thousand years, always faster and faster. When the legendaries are almost out of power, the Destroyer sends the power multiplied back, and all this power finds all the Legendaries in the world again… and when they suddenly gain all this power, they all go insane somehow. Basically, once the legendaries are all mad, they will seek each other out, kill all the other legendaries they can find, and fight so viciously that everything in their path is destroyed. They will keep fighting until only one of them is left alive.

....

what

Mark was surprised; nothing he had managed to think of since learning about Chaletwo had come close to any of that.

also

what

This is all literally VERY insane. Of all the reasons and discordant ideas floating around my head, I never expected either of these two to be the case.
Also doesn't that kind of make humans who ignore your fake brainwashing aura not stupid if they say "Yeah child murder seems a little sus" thats... thats kinda smart lol.

Sandslash's speech is great. I just love how he casually tosses in 'also uh. you could try letting us out sometime. that'd be cool.'

I just keep thinking about if Mark told Koa "Yeah I got recruited by legendaries to catch all the legendaries and save the world" and Koa's just like 'why couldn't IIII do that wow'

one of these days Mark and Koa need to be in a room together

pls gib mor

 

[Flyg0n]

UGH! But this means my theory about Alan being Chaletwo is wrong, as well as my other theory that Mark is Chaletwo is also wrong.

>:{

 

[Dragonfree]

Chapter 26, in which people don't act like people, we learn more about Mitch, and Mark is cajoled into battling another gym leader even though the world is ending.

Chapter 26: Dead or Alive​

​

Branches rustled. Taillow chirped. Beedrill buzzed.

Mark lay with his eyes closed. The stinging grass underneath him tickled the back of his neck. His hands grasped the cold, dewy blades. He inhaled deeply, taking in the fresh, earthy smell.

Mark felt his heart beat steadily in his chest. His whole body ached, but he felt wonderful. He was alive. Funny how he had never appreciated it before.

After a few minutes, he opened his eyes slowly to look at the canopy above. He sat up and blinked a few times, wondering where he could be; it was clearly the middle of a forest of some sort.

“Hello, Mark.”

He sprang to his feet in surprise when he heard the familiar, soft voice. It belonged to the only person who could appear out of nowhere like that: Mitch. He was leaning against a tree, facing away from Mark, and looking into the air as he tended to. Mark walked slowly up to him.

“I guess we’re in the same boat now,” Mitch continued calmly.

“What do you mean?” Mark asked, leaning against another nearby tree. Mitch didn’t look surprised to see him at all.

“We’re both dead,” said Mitch with a faint smile.

Mark was puzzled. “How?”

“Seven years ago,” Mitch said slowly, still staring into the air, “ten-year-old Richard Brown started his Pokémon journey with a Venonat. He wandered into the Black Desert, encountered a Scorplack, and was tragically killed on the first day of his quest.”

It took Mark a few seconds to realize that Mitch was talking about himself.

“A few months later,” Mitch continued, “a confused teenager named Mitch entered the city with a bad case of amnesia and no identification whatsoever. He looked a little bit similar to poor Richard, although a lot thinner, with more hair and different-colored eyes. He just muttered senseless things about death for the first few days, but then his memory started coming back and he remembered his name and that he was going to study biology in Green Town. He did, and later went on to study poisons exclusively. He got a job as a gym leader in Scorpio City.”

Mitch paused for a little while, and finally went on:

“Richard Brown doesn’t like him at all, but what can poor Richard do? Long ago he cloaked himself with Mitch, and now he thrives on the disguise.”

“So you’re… you’re seventeen?” Mark asked slowly, still digesting this information. Mitch suddenly looked right at him; his shiny, gray eyes didn’t seem to blink at all.

“Richard is afraid of Mitch. He fears this man who has seen so much death, so much pain, so much sorrow. It is too much for a young boy. He never got to grow into an adult, having hidden away for so long.”

Mitch still stared into Mark’s eyes. He was starting to understand why Mitch liked to look up when he talked; something about his gaze seemed to disconnect Mark from his surroundings and prevent him from looking away, giving Mitch’s words odd importance. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he realized what Mitch’s eyes reminded him of: Chaletwo’s. Like a weaker, non-fatal version.

“I’m not real,” Mitch said softly, looking up again, to Mark’s relief. “I’m a dead boy and a made-up character. Do not make my mistake. Cloaking one’s true identity will never cause anything but trouble.”

They were silent for a long while. Mitch’s lips finally curled into one of his faint smiles.

“You’ve heard about the animal world?”

“Yes,” Mark replied, not sure why Mitch was asking. He had learned about it in history – it was another world that had been discovered 874 years ago, marking the start of the calendar used now. After nearly 200 years of trying, Pokémon world scientists had finally managed to open a gateway between them. The humans in the two worlds had apparently shared their technology and something until the animal world was destroyed.

“I think humans came from there,” Mitch continued.

“What?” Mark asked in disbelief. “Humans were here long before that.”

“I think that wasn’t the first time a gateway between the two worlds opened. Because you see, it makes perfect sense. Humans are animals. All other animals in this world were moved here from the animal world. And what are the odds that as complicated a species as humans would evolve in two separate worlds?”

Mark nodded slowly; that made sense.

“Look here…”

Mitch moved away from the tree and knelt down.

“This tree is all life. I’ll put the most basic life forms at the bottom, here at the roots, and they become more complicated as they go up. We have viruses here at the bottom, not quite alive by most standards.”

He ran his finger a short way up the tree’s trunk, stopping at a speck.

“Bacteria. Still basic.”

He slid his hand slowly up the tree. “We go on… we come to fungi, plants and finally animals, which humans are among…”

At this point he was pointing at a spot at his chest level or so.

“But all the way up here…”

He moved his hand dramatically as far as he could reach without standing on tiptoe.

“…Pokémon.”

He looked straight into Mark’s eyes again, his eyes shining brightly.

“Pokémon are powerful, Mark. Extremely. If other animals came here with the humans, they landed in direct competition with the Pokémon and didn’t survive. Humans, on the other hand, figured out that they had one advantage over the Pokémon, and used it. They knew that their only hope to fight Pokémon was with other Pokémon, and they managed to cooperate with them. Very clever indeed. But when you think about it, the Pokémon’s end of the deal is still cleverer. They weren’t driven into the deal by any need. They could have wiped us out if the wanted – but they didn’t. They figured it would be for the good of everyone to make the deal.”

“I never thought about it that way,” Mark admitted.

Mitch smiled slightly. “I didn’t expect you to. Farewell, fellow dead boy… remember what I told you. Remain who you are.”

And with that, Mitch turned and walked away, only to disappear as soon as Mark took his eyes off him.

“Chaletwo?” Mark muttered, looking down at his Pokéballs.

“Yes?” answered a familiar telepathic voice.

“Where am I and how far in the future?”

“The middle of Ruxido, two weeks after your death,” Chaletwo said. “Molzapart did a slight mass memory modification and now everybody’s memories of you are buried a bit deeper. They will find you distantly familiar, but won’t remember who you are unless they’re specifically reminded of it. The people who knew you well will still recognize you if they get a good enough look at you, though.”

“All right,” said Mark nervously. “Are my Pokémon still in my Pokéballs?”

“Yes,” Chaletwo replied. “I made a copy of your body and clothes before you were buried and snatched your Pokéballs before your Pokémon were released. Naturally, Molzapart helped by giving the person who was supposed to release them a fake memory of doing it.”

Mark smiled. “Thanks.”

Chaletwo chuckled. “No problem, Mr. Last Hope. And remember to talk to Ash Ketchum; Green Town is to your left.”

Mark took a deep breath, turned left and walked as straight as he could. As the trees thinned, he heard a voice he recognized:

“Pupitar, just Thrash the stupid thing!”

“May!” Mark called, running in the voice’s direction. He caught a glimpse of blue hair behind a tree and soon the whole of May, hissing angrily at her Pupitar as a yellow-and-black-striped Beedrill fluttered frantically away. She looked blankly at him at first, then furrowed her brow like she was trying to remember something.

“Mark!” she suddenly realized. Then she shook her head. “Oh, never mind. I thought you were somebody else.”

Mark walked up to her; she stared at him.

“You can’t be…” she said slowly.

“It is me. I have to tell you…” Mark started.

“But who got killed?” she interrupted blankly.

“That was also me,” Mark said, “but let me explain…”

May raised her eyebrow. “Have you been out in the sun for too long?”

“No!” Mark yelled in frustration. “I’m trying to…”

“You can’t both be dead and be here.”

“SHUT UP!” Mark screamed. She raised both of her eyebrows this time.

“Thank you,” he said angrily before beginning to recount his conversation with Chaletwo and Molzapart. Unfortunately, May was about the worst listener imaginable. She interrupted every few sentences, usually with something he was just about to get to, and after he had finally struggled through the whole thing, she raised her eyebrow yet again. That, Mark had learned, was never a good sign.

“That sounded like some kind of drug-induced hallucination,” she said.

“It’s true!” Mark said hotly.

“Then prove it. Send out Molzapart and Chaletwo.”

Mark was about to yell something angry at her when another voice broke in:

“He’s not lying.”

Chaletwo, Mark thought with relief.

“Chaletwo?” May asked, eyes widening.

“Indeed,” the legendary replied. “He can not send us out of our Pokéballs. It is too risky as the other legendaries might spot us. And now that you have learned about all of this, we have no choice but to erase your memory or...”

“I’m not getting my bloody memory erased!” May hissed. “He decided to tell me, for crying out loud!”

“Either that or you help him,” Chaletwo said simply.

“Fine, I’ll help him!” May snapped. “Are we going to see Ash Ketchum, then?”

“Yeah,” Mark replied. Getting her to help was why he had gone to talk to her in the first place; he wasn’t sure why, but he enjoyed her company.

-------

They set off on an uneventful journey towards Green Town. They didn’t meet anybody on the way, although Mark was constantly worrying about it. May seemed rather grumpy; she was walking very fast, staring straight ahead and not talking to Mark – although he wasn’t really trying to start a conversation either.

When they finally reached Alan’s house, May knocked on the door. Mark stood slightly behind her, nervous about Alan’s reaction to seeing him. They heard footsteps and the door opened.

Alan looked uninterestedly at May for a second, and then his gaze slid over to Mark. Alan stared at him for a few seconds, his mouth falling slightly open.

“You’re dead,” he said blankly.

“I’ll explain inside,” said Mark tiredly as Alan stepped aside, still staring at him. They walked into the kitchen.

“I saw it with my own eyes,” Alan continued weakly. “Chaletwo opened his eyes and… I’ll eat Pamela if it wasn’t you.”

“Can’t you see he’s no more dead than you are?” said May, annoyed, as they sat down.

“I… I’m not dead,” Alan said confusedly.

“Let’s just pretend both of us are alive for now, okay?” Mark suggested. “I’ll explain.”

And he started telling the whole story again. This time it was significantly easier, since Alan listened quietly without interrupting (except for one “I told you Chaletwo wasn’t evil!”).

“Wow,” Alan breathed as Mark finished.

“So…” Mark said hesitantly, “are you having problems believing me?”

Alan shrugged. “Well, I really should have known. Chaletwo had to have a reason to do that. And you’re alive, which makes it sound sensible enough.”

Mark almost laughed at how different Alan’s reaction was from May’s, but he held it back.

“Um, where’s your father?” he asked.

“Who, me?” came a voice from behind him. Mark turned around to find Ash walking into the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks as he spotted Mark.

“Ah,” he then said. Mark and Alan stared at him with a puzzled expression. Ash slowly sat down.

“You were killed by Chaletwo, weren’t you?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” Mark replied, slightly confused.

“You won’t need to explain,” Ash sighed. “Molzapart told me years ago about the War of the Legends and requested I try to catch some of the legendaries, but as much as I’d have liked to try, I was extremely busy; if I cancelled everything and went on a journey suddenly, it would look very suspicious. He suggested killing me and bringing me back, but I didn’t want to because of Alan, who was young at the time. I also pointed out that there was no guarantee the kids couldn’t do it themselves in a few years. So he gave in and told me that they would send somebody to me as a last resort if they were getting really desperate.”

“Why?” Alan asked. “Why you?”

Ash smiled slightly. “I’ve had extraordinary luck with legendaries. Molzapart said it was some sort of a subconscious connection that brought us together.”

“So you’re going to come with me to make it easier to find them?” Mark asked slowly.

“That’s the basic idea, yes,” Ash sighed. “Of course I’m still busy, but I can make some kind of an excuse since we’re running short on time.”

“Dad,” said Alan suddenly, “do you think I have that too?”

“Have what?” Ash asked.

“That subconscious connection with Legendaries.”

“Hmm,” came Chaletwo’s telepathic voice, apparently having listened to everything, “we never thought of that. Have there been any signs of something like that in the boy?”

“Rainteicune,” said Ash, looking at his son.

“Maybe I should go in your place,” Alan said. “After all, you’re busy and stuff. Much easier for me to go.”

“It’s worth a try,” Chaletwo commented. “After all, a 15-year-old suddenly deciding to leave on a journey sounds a lot likelier than a 37-year-old.”

Ash raised his eyebrow. “You never struck me as the type to have any interest in saving the world, to tell you the truth, Alan.”

Alan shrugged. “Sounds more fun than sitting here itching to know whether the world is going to be saved while thinking about how my father is yet again proving how much better he is than me.”

There was a short, uncomfortable silence.

“I’m sorry, Alan,” Ash sighed. “It would probably be better if you went.”

“It’s okay, Dad,” Alan muttered.

Suddenly he grinned and ran upstairs. A few seconds passed; Mark, May and Ash gave each other puzzled looks until Alan came sprinting down the stairs again, holding a battered Pokémon League cap. Ash suddenly cracked up.

“Can’t go on an adventure without Dad’s old cap, can I?” Alan laughed, putting it on. The white front of it was decorated with a green, fancy L-shaped Pokémon League symbol. Mark recognized it as the famous cap Ash Ketchum had journeyed with and smiled slightly.

“Well,” Ash said cheerfully, “let’s pack.”

-------

The three of them left the house, waving goodbye to Ash. After walking only a few steps, Mark stopped.

“What now?” he asked emptily. “Where am I supposed to go? You have a subconscious connection with Legendaries, but if it’s subconscious, we don’t know where we should go to find them.”

“Well,” Alan said, “don’t they say the best way to find something is not to look for it? That certainly seems to apply here. I wasn’t looking for Rainteicune, and Dad wasn’t looking for the legendaries he found.”

“But what, does that mean I should just continue along my merry way and battle gym leaders like nothing happened?”

Alan shrugged. “For example.”

“I can’t just go around battling gym leaders when the world is ending!” Mark said in frustration.

“Got a better idea?”

Mark fell silent. It didn’t feel right at all to just continue his journey.

“Suicune,” he suddenly realized. “Suicune always appears at the Lake of Purity. We should hurry there and then we can worry about gym battles.”

“The fastest way to Cleanwater from here is through Stormy Town, which actually is the next city with a gym,” Alan pointed out. “You could just as well grab a badge there as we pass through, if you did go with the badge thing.”

“But…” Mark protested.

“Look, Mark,” May interrupted, “whatever you’re going to do, I want my badges. I’m going to Stormy Town and challenging the bloody gym whether you like it or not, and if you’re not going to get your badge too, that’s your problem.”

“Err…” Mark sensed that he was alone; deep down, he also wanted to get the rest of his badges, since he had been through the trouble of getting half of them already.

“Fine. But I don’t even have the badge from the Green Town Gym yet.”

“Go ahead and get it,” said May. “I can just talk to Alan or something. There’s a bench over there.”

Mark sighed as they walked over there. He waved absent-mindedly and started walking towards the Green Town Stadium, where the gym battles supposedly took place. He couldn’t help feeling he was actually more determined and confident as a trainer now than he had been before – he wanted to continue his journey and compete in the Ouen League, although that wasn’t what he was supposed to be focusing on.

Why couldn’t that have happened earlier?

He nervously walked into a small building beside the stadium that had a rusty sign saying GYM CHALLENGERS HERE above the door. It contained a small table, a coffee machine and two girls sitting by the table. One looked around eighteen years old, with long, dark hair and wearing a green outfit. The other looked maybe twelve or thirteen, had light green hair in pigtails and wore a white T-shirt depicting various Grass Pokémon.

“Hello?” said the older one in a bored voice.

“Er, I’m here for a badge,” Mark said.

“Of course you’re here for a badge,” she replied snappily. “Why else would you be here?”

“Um,” Mark said unsurely, a bit surprised by her reactions, “I guess.”

“So anyway, junior trainer first,” she said lazily as the younger girl stood up and gestured for Mark to follow her. He walked hesitantly with her out of the building and into the huge arena, where they took their places.

“Three on three. Ready, go, Tangela!” said the junior trainer in a high-pitched voice. She threw a Pokéball into the arena, which popped open as it landed on the ground and allowed a weird Pokémon to take shape – Mark was reminded of a bundle of turquoise spaghetti with two round eyes in the middle. It didn’t help that for some reason, it was wearing bright red shoes.

Mark took one of his Pokéballs off his belt.

“Charizard, go!”

He hurled it forward and a red beam of light materialized into the orange dragon. He had heard that Tangela were rather weak, but he would rather stay on the safe side.

“Tangela, Sleep Powder!” yelled the girl.

“Charizard, beat your wings to blow it away!”

Two of the vines that covered her Pokémon’s body shot forward and held Charizard’s wings in place while it shook itself vigorously, causing a cloud of green, sparkling dust to be released into the air. Charizard, rather than risk inhaling the powder while attempting to attack the vines, shut his mouth tightly and turned his head away in order not to be affected by the spores, but unfortunately he soon relaxed in the Tangela’s grip and sank down to the floor, fast asleep.

“No!” Mark shouted in frustration. “Wake up!”

“Tangela, Slam!”

The Tangela started smashing its vines into Charizard’s body like whips, muttering “Tan-gela! Tan-gela!” as it did. After a bit of beating while Mark tried desperately to wake his Pokémon, Charizard’s eye twitched slightly and then opened. He got up with a roar, took a deep breath and spewed a blast of bright flames at the Grass Pokémon. It stood there charred for a second, but then collapsed.

“Tangela, return,” said the girl. “Sunflora, do it!”

She sent out a peculiar flower Pokémon. The petals were bright yellow, surrounding a happy-looking face, which Mark found creepy for some reason. Then it had a green stalk-like body with leaves for arms, which it was currently waving around like it was trying to fly or something.

“Sunflora, Sunny Day!”

The flower sang a sweet note and the sunlight above intensified greatly; the arena grew very hot.

What the heck? Mark thought, stroking sweat off his forehead. Why would she be powering up my Pokémon’s attacks? And Solarbeam isn’t exactly the attack of choice to use on a Charizard…

“Flamethrower!” he shouted, and the dragon fired a great stream of flames at the Sunflora. It was engulfed in it completely and shrieked in pain; when the fire cleared, it was already down.

The girl silently recalled her Pokémon and took out the third and last ball.

“Go, Jumpluff!”

The Pokémon that came out was ball-shaped and blue, with two tiny legs. Its arms, however, had puffy cotton-like balls on the ends, almost as big as the body. It also had a similar cotton ball sticking out of its head. Mark found it rather freaky, especially when it just floated into the air like a balloon.

“Err… Charizard, another Flamethrower,” he ordered. Charizard shot forth yet another Flamethrower, but Mark was surprised to discover that the Jumpluff was unbelievably fast. It zoomed easily out of the way in the air, agile as a Taillow, and stuck its tongue out at Charizard.

“Jumpluff, Cotton Spore!” the girl yelled. Again, the Grass Pokémon moved quickly; it shook its puffs, releasing a cloud of cotton-like material that covered Charizard. He coughed and was having a hard time moving in it, but he flapped his wings and managed to blow it away.

“Jumpluff, use a Poisonpowder!”

“Jump!” the Pokémon cried, shaking its arms again. This time the puffs released purple dust.

“Charizard, fly out of the way! Don’t inhale it!” Mark shouted desperately. Charizard took off from the ground, but the Jumpluff followed him, still at this bizarre speed. It was faster than the dragon and rapidly caught up with him; Charizard blasted a Flamethrower over his shoulder but the Jumpluff dodged it easily and then suddenly dived down and covered Charizard’s nostrils with the cotton balls. He coughed and spluttered, but it wouldn’t let go; he breathed a bit of fire that lit the puffs, and Jumpluff shrieked in pain before letting itself float a bit farther into the air, waving its arms frantically to put out the fire. Meanwhile, Charizard landed, looking rather sick and in pain. Mark figured that he had inhaled some of Jumpluff’s poisonous spores.

“Charizard, return,” he sighed, absorbing the dragon back into the ball. He reached for another Pokéball.

“Scyther, finish it!”

The mantis emerged from the ball and flew into the air, raising his scythes. He took aim at the grass Pokémon and shot towards it, but it darted out of the way. Scyther looked around and then suddenly shot in the opposite direction.

The junior trainer looked surprised. “Sleep Powder,” she ordered with a hint of doubt. The Jumpluff darted towards Scyther, but slowly the sunlight started fading and the Grass Pokémon slowed down…

This seemed to be what Scyther had been waiting for; he shot towards Jumpluff and started slashing it like mad. It shrieked and released a cloud of green spores in self-defense; Scyther coughed and attempted to slow himself down as he crashed to the ground. Mark looked at his Pokémon with a puzzled expression as he realized that Scyther’s eyes were still open.

The mantis winked.

“Jumpluff, Sunny Day!” the trainer ordered triumphantly as the Jumpluff started doing a weird dance and chanting something to get the bright sunlight from earlier back. Scyther lay completely still, pretending to be asleep.

“And now, Leech Seed!”

“Pluff!” squeaked the Pokémon, firing two dark green seeds from its puffs. They embedded themselves into Scyther’s exoskeleton and then vines started growing up towards Jumpluff. They wrapped themselves tightly around the Pokémon.

Scyther suddenly rose up. He stretched out his scythes and then started spinning around in marvellous dance of flashing movements. At the same time, the Leech Seed vines wrapped around him and literally reeled Jumpluff in. The Grass Pokémon desperately tried to get away, but was bound by the powerful vines and pulled closer and closer to the mantis.

“Scy,” Scyther growled as he stopped, the Jumpluff having been dragged almost up to him. Then he slashed it powerfully, and the Grass Pokémon slipped into unconsciousness.

“Jumpluff, return,” said the girl, recalling her Jumpluff and the Leech Seed in a beam of red. “I’ll fetch the gym leader for you.”

Mark smiled at Scyther and recalled him. The junior trainer hadn’t been too hard – after all, he had defeated her three Pokémon using two of his – but the actual gym leader was sure to be harder.

The older girl entered, holding a Pocket Healer. She gave it to Mark without words and walked over to her place on the arena as Mark put Charizard and Scyther’s Pokéballs into it, healing them.

“My name is Flora and I am the leader of the Green Town Gym,” she announced as Mark put the Pocket Healer down on the ground. “However, there are a few things you should know.”

Mark nodded.

“Firstly,” Flora began, “I hate perfume.”

“Huh?” Mark asked in confusion, not sure what that was supposed to mean. She ignored him.

“I train Grass Pokémon because they can use powders, damn it! Why do I always have to be met with that stupid stereotype? I’m not a flower hippie, get it?”

“Um, okay,” Mark replied unsurely.

“Secondly,” Flora added in an even more disgusted voice, “my name is my parents’ fault, not mine! It’s not MY fault if my parents happened to give me a name that sounds like a pun! I hate it! I hate it all!”

She kicked a rock off the arena and took a few deep breaths.

“Now,” she said after calming down a bit, “let’s get this damn battle over with. You’re probably going to win like everybody else, because as the fifth gym leader, I can’t use Pokémon past a certain level, but nobody’s limiting you from training as much as you like. And Grass Pokémon have a lot of weaknesses, so people just stroll through here with their Fire or Ice or Flying Pokémon, just because gyms are forced to have some kind of a strict theme to the Pokémon they use. Heck, I could just give you the damn badge right now, because we all know that even if you lose, you’re just going to train a bit, come back and eventually beat me. I don’t know why I even bother…”

During this speech her voice went back to that disgusted one, but now she paused.

“Oh, wait, I do know.” She smirked and took out a Pokéball. “It’s fun.”

Flora hurled the ball forward. “Five on five! Go, Victreebel!”

The red energy from the ball formed into a gigantic pitcher plant with two evil eyes and a heart-shaped leaf draping over the fanged, gaping mouth. Mark shuddered; it was another one of those horror-movie Pokémon. He remembered seeing a gory scene with one crunching up a Growlithe sometime on TV.

Mark took out Charizard’s ball. Using Pocket Healers felt odd; it didn’t seem like Charizard could suddenly be at full health again.

“Go, Charizard!”

The dragon materialized from the ball and took off the ground, watching Victreebel closely.

“Charizard, Flamethrower!”

“Victreebel, Sludge Bomb!”

Flames formed in Charizard’s throat as he got ready to send a blast of fire at the pitcher plant; the Victreebel meanwhile shut its mouth with its leaf and closed its eyes.

Charizard fired the Flamethrower and the silky flames struck the Grass Pokémon. It let out a deep sound but as soon as the fire cleared, the singed Victreebel lifted its leaf from its mouth and spewed out deep purple acid straight at Charizard. The dragon didn’t have time to dodge and was struck by the blast; he was thrown backwards in the air and needed a bit of time to regain his balance. Flora seized the opportunity.

“Stockpile!”

Mark watched in disbelief as the Pokémon started munching on its own leaf. Stockpile, Stockpile… there had been an entire lesson devoted to it in Battling Strategies at school, but as usual he didn’t remember any of it. He had been too busy drawing an Arcanine. He silently cursed his lack of attention in school.

Charizard, having landed with a sickly look on his face, stumbled back towards Victreebel, flapping his wings in an unsuccessful attempt to fly.

“Victreebel, Spit Up!”

The pitcher plant suddenly bent forward, aiming its rounded mouth at Charizard like a cannon, and spat out green goo – what Mark presumed to be the remains of the leaf mixed with some acids. It hit the dragon right in the face as he seemed too sick to dodge; he roared in pain.

“Charizard, don’t give up!” Mark shouted desperately as Charizard shook his head to get the disgusting slime off his muzzle. If a Fire Pokémon lost to Flora’s first Grass type, Mark had practically no hope of winning with his other Pokémon that didn’t have a type advantage.

He suddenly had an idea, seeing Victreebel back in its upright position and remembering how it had closed its mouth with its leaf earlier when Charizard attacked. “Charizard, if you possibly can, fly above it.”

The dragon managed to take off unsteadily.

“Victreebel, Sludge Bomb!”

“Charizard, Flamethrower straight down! Now, before it attacks!” Mark yelled quickly, hoping for Charizard to make the first move. His first Pokémon didn’t fail him; Charizard fired a bright tongue of flames downwards into the pitcher plant’s mouth. It let out a scream of pain, but still managed to retaliate with another spurt of purple acid. Charizard crashed into the ground, his eyes closed; Mark got that stinging feeling of having driven him too far as he recalled his Pokémon.

His hand almost instinctively reached for Scyther’s Pokéball, but he stopped at the last second. No, this wasn’t working. He’d have to try to be a bit clever.

Mark thought hard; meanwhile Flora commanded her Victreebel to use Stockpile again and it started eating one of the large arm-like leaves on its side by flexing its body. What Pokémon did he have again? Charizard, Scyther, Jolteon, Dragonair, Sandslash and Gyarados. Wait, hadn’t he switched one of them for Leta? He took out his Pokédex and ran it past his Pokéballs. He didn’t have Dragonair.

Sandslash was pretty much crossed out; he was weak to Grass attacks. Since this was a five-on-five, he would probably be using all his other Pokémon. But what about Leta? She was so low-leveled.

“Victreebel, Swallow!”

Mark looked up; Victreebel swallowed the leaf if had been chewing and looked a bit healthier afterwards. Something in his mind abruptly told him wait a second.

Pokémon were restricted to using four moves in official matches like gym battles.

Victreebel had used Sludge Bomb, Stockpile, Spit Up and Swallow… four moves. No more surprises from Victreebel if Flora played by the rules.

What was more, this meant Sandslash wasn’t useless. Mark smiled; he did know that Ground-types were resistant to poisons.

“Go, Sandslash!”

The pangolin emerged from the ball and stretched. He blinked, eying his opponent more with interest than fear.

Mark felt a little guilty for the strategy that struck his mind; something told him it was a bit nasty. But hey, if getting a Victreebel’s saliva all over one’s face wasn’t nasty, what was?

“Sandslash,” Mark ordered, “tear up its leaf.”

Both the heart-shaped one that had covered the mouth and the right arm-leaf had already fallen victim to the pitcher plant’s own attack; Sandslash dashed towards the left one with his sharp claws in the air and started slashing at it. The Victreebel shook itself violently and sprayed a shower of acid over the two Pokémon, but Sandslash didn’t seem to be affected very much by it. Within seconds, Victreebel’s last leaf was in shreds.

No more Stockpile.

And if Mark remembered correctly, Spit Up and Swallow didn’t do anything unless the Pokémon Stockpiled first.

“Damn you!” Flora hissed. “Victreebel, Sludge Bomb that thing! Swallow it whole! Whatever!”

The Grass Pokémon hesitated, not sure what to make of those orders, and Sandslash grabbed the opportunity to stab both of his right claws into Victreebel’s body. It screamed in pain and twisted around in agony for a second, letting loose another spray of acids, but then fell limp.

“Oh, great, return.” Flora rolled her eyes as the red beam from the Pokéball recalled the pitcher plant. “Bellossom, do your thing.”

She sent out a very small, cute Pokémon. It appeared to be wearing a skirt of leaves in different shades of green; two red flowers decorated the top of its head.

“Bellossom, Sunny Day!”

Mark wanted to smack himself for bringing Charizard out first even right after a demonstration of Grass Pokémon becoming annoying with Sunny Day.

“Sandslash, Slash it quickly!”

Bellossom chanted something and made the sun brighter as the pangolin ran forward with his claws raised. Sandslash slashed across the Bellossom’s body, leaving three red streaks; the Grass Pokémon squealed in pain.

“Bellossom, Solarbeam!”

A golden orb of light formed on Bellossom’s head, and then it bent forward, pointing straight at Sandslash. It fired a great beam of solar power that sent Sandslash skidding backwards and left burn marks on his hide.

“Sandslash, try to…”

“Another Solarbeam!”

Bellossom immediately fired a second beam, and Sandslash couldn’t take it anymore. He tumbled backwards and collapsed.

“Sandslash, return,” Mark muttered. This time he didn’t have to think. “Scyther, do it!”

The green mantis came out of the Pokéball and smiled slightly at the sight of his opponent. Flora hissed.

“Okay, do a Fury Cutter!”

Scyther instantly took off into the air and swooped down towards Bellossom, his scythes glowing slightly green.

“Bellossom, Stun Spore!”

Bellossom was incredibly fast and shook itself to release a cloud of yellow, sparkling spores. Scyther couldn’t avoid inhaling them as he struck Bellossom with his glowing scythe. The paralysis quickly came into effect, making Scyther’s flight more irregular. He managed to get down and strike the Grass Pokémon one more time with his scythe, but then he gave up and landed with difficulty.

“Bellossom, Synthesis.”

“No!” Mark protested, but the plant closed its eyes in concentration to absorb sunlight and heal its wounds. Great. Now all the effort had been for nothing.

“Scyther, um…” Mark blushed as he realized that he honestly wasn’t sure what Scyther could do. He had only made him use Fury Cutter and Slash.

“Wing Attack?” Mark said unsurely. Scyther nodded and ran towards Bellossom to beat it with his glossy wings. The Grass Pokémon cried out in pain.

“Bellossom, Synthesis,” Flora simply said, and the plant healed itself again.

“Scyther, try attacking it a few more times,” Mark ordered, forming a plan. Scyther was having a bit of a hard time since he was still paralyzed; once he tried to slash but wasn’t fast enough and Bellossom shot out of the way. Hitting with Wing Attack was a bit easier. Flora just kept telling her Pokémon to heal itself, but Mark saw how Bellossom was clearly growing tired and it was taking more effort to use Synthesis.

“One more Wing Attack,” Mark finally said, and Scyther (who was also growing tired) struck Bellossom with his wings again. Bellossom was clearly getting too fatigued to heal itself.

“Slash!”

Scyther growled, bringing his scythe down on the Bellossom’s body and cutting some leaves off its skirt. It squeaked like a plush toy and moved no more.

Flora sighed and recalled it. “Venusaur, go.”

Mark looked at Scyther and bit his lip. The huge, green, dinosaur-like toad that Flora sent out was healthily enjoying the sun as the flower on its back released a sweet aroma, but the mantis was paralyzed and additionally the heat didn’t seem very good for him. He was panting weakly.

“Scyther…” Mark paused, “do you think you’re going to be able to get a hit in?”

Scyther didn’t answer; then he suddenly took flight, his scythes glowing lime green as he slashed across his opponent’s face. The green glow steadily grew as the Venusaur tried to back away or bite and the mantis kept cutting it. Then the paralysis kicked in; Scyther’s body stiffened up and he collapsed.

“Scyther, come back,” Mark sighed. Two of his best Grass-beating Pokémon were down, as well as the only one who was resistant to Poison. And Leta… what use could she be? She was still much lower-leveled than the rest of his team. He would have to leave her out. That left him with Gyarados and Jolteon against three Pokémon that Flora had left.

Well, Jolteon had Pin Missile, didn’t he? That would be good against pure Grass Pokémon, but not especially so against Venusaur if he remembered correctly. Using Gyarados would be his best bet.

“Um…” he asked hesitantly, “can you open that pool?”

Flora smirked, clearly figuring that if Mark was resorting to Water Pokémon, the win was in the bag. She took a small remote like the one Ash had used to open the pool in the Attack Approval and pressed a button. A square-shaped section of the floor sank down below the rest and then slid under it, revealing the Water Pokémon pool.

“Go, Gyarados!”

Flora slapped her forehead at the sight of the blue sea monster, probably realizing he wasn’t weak to Grass attacks.

“Damn it,” she swore. “Venusaur, Solarbeam!”

Before either Mark or Venusaur managed to do anything, Gyarados lifted his head and roared loudly. In an instant, the bright sunlight faded; dark clouds started gathering on the sky instead, blocking out the sun. Venusaur started charging a Solarbeam as the first raindrops fell; Flora’s expression resembled an annoyed Tauros more than a human girl.

“Gyarados, Dragon Beam!” Mark shouted over the sound of the rain, wrapping himself in his jacket. Venusaur fired the Solarbeam, but in the rain it was just a pathetic little beam of light that Gyarados barely seemed to notice as he closed his eyes and started graying. The familiar red beam was fired from the sea monster’s eyes at the Grass Pokémon; it was too slow to even attempt to dodge and was blasted with the beam. It roared; small icicles formed on its body and it became unable to move within seconds.

Flora let out an array of swear words directed at Gyarados, the stupidity of the Attack Approval and being wet from some stupid Rain Dance.

“Venusaur, return,” she said and took out her second-last Pokéball. “Go, Meganium!”

Out of the ball came a large light green dinosaur of sorts with a large head. It also had antennae and bright red flower petals in a circle around its neck.

“Meganiii!” it cried out in a high-pitched, feminine voice at Gyarados. His expression remained the same.

“Gyarados,” Mark told him, “use another Dragon Beam.”

“Meganium, use a Light Screen!”

As Gyarados closed his eyes and turned greyscale, Meganium’s eyes glowed deep golden and a translucent yellow shield of energy formed all around it. Gyarados shot forth his attack, but the Light Screen absorbed most of the beam, rendering it relatively harmless before it struck the dinosaur.

“Now, Meganium, use a Sunny Day!”

Meganium looked at the sky with a small cry, but as the rain started subsiding, Gyarados let out a deafening roar, and as if the clouds were scared of him, the rain worsened even past what it had been earlier.

Flora cursed a bit more.

“Gyarados, try something physical!” Mark could never remember whether it was Reflect or Light Screen that countered special attacks, but at least it was either one or the other. And since Light Screen had countered that Dragon Beam…

Gyarados lunged forward with a roar. Indeed, the Light Screen wasn’t solid and he got right through it, slamming into Meganium. However, this ended up as a kamikaze attack; Gyarados couldn’t get back into the pool after this. He roared and thrashed madly around.

“Meganium, Razor Leaf!”

The dinosaur Pokémon let out a cry and fired a flurry of razor-sharp leaves from the petals around its neck. They all plummeted straight into Gyarados’s body; none of them really did much to his armour, but one of the last leaves went straight into his eye.

Gyarados let out an ear-splitting roar of pain; blood spurted out from his eye and Mark looked away before recalling Gyarados into his Pokéball.

“All right, go Jolteon.”

Mark was losing his hope of winning as the spiked Eevee evolution appeared; Jolteon’s Electric attacks wouldn’t be very effective especially with that Light Screen up, and Jolteon just weren’t known to be particularly good users of physical attacks – although his Jolteon had actually used them fairly well. And Flora had two Pokémon left.

“Jolteon, try a Pin Missile!”

He crouched down and fired a flurry of small sharp hairs from his rear end towards the dinosaur. It passed through the Light Screen and Meganium cried out as it was bombarded by the attack.

“Razor Leaf!”

“Return!”

Jolteon was faster; he sped towards the dinosaur, charging a pink aura around him, and rammed into Meganium. The dinosaur seemed dizzy after the blow, but fired another bunch of leaves – much fewer than last time, though. Jolteon tried to avoid them and his wiry fur stopped some of the ones that came from the wrong angle, but he was struck by some and got a few cuts. Meganium, however, had had enough and collapsed on the ground, fainted.

Mark wasn’t surprised to hear Flora swear as her Pokéball absorbed the green dinosaur. “Well, it’s time for my last against your last,” she said. “Cacturne, I choose you!”

Out of her last Pokéball came what looked at first like a green scarecrow – it was probably the face with that evil mouth consisting of several holes lined up in a creepy grin along with creepy emotionless eyes. The weird head shape that resembled a hat didn’t help. Then Mark noticed the spikes along its sides and realized it was more of a very creepy cactus. It had been sent out inside the protective Light Screen that Meganium had put up earlier.

“Jolteon, Pin Missile!” Mark shouted, and Jolteon fired more fur needles towards the cactus. It screeched eerily as it was hit, bombarded with severe cuts. Instead of blood, the Pokémon seemed to bleed water, which only made it seem creepier.

“Cacturne, use an Ingrain!”

Brown, twisted roots grew out of Cacturne’s feet and dug into the ground. Mark saw its wounds start to close. He would have to act fast.

“Jolteon, try another Pin Missile!”

“Cacturne, Sand-Attack!”

Another barrage of pins showered through the rain to cut Cacturne up while the cactus prepared for its own attack. It somehow whipped a bit of sand out of nowhere and then made it fly straight into Jolteon’s eyes. He cried out, staggering backwards while trying to get the sand out of his eyes. Meanwhile he managed to continue firing the Pin Missile although his aim was suffering greatly. The spiky fur on his back was growing considerably thinner. Cacturne let out more screeches as Jolteon got the sand out of his eyes. The rain was still falling.

“Jolteon, try a Return!”

“Needle Arm!”

Jolteon leapt towards Cacturne and struck it, glowing with pink energy, but then the cactus swung one of its spiked arms and smashed it into Jolteon. He was thrown out of the Light Screen.

Jolteon stood weakly up, and Mark realized he was on the edge of fainting. Around Cacturne, the yellow bubble was fading into nothing.

Then it was as if a realization came over Jolteon.

“Jooolt!” he cried, sparkling with electricity as he manipulated the electric charge both in the clouds above and his opponent. A magnificent bolt of lightning shot right from the clouds into Cacturne’s body with a roar of thunder, practically lighting the cactus on fire as it let out a piercing scream. Then it dropped to the ground, deep-fried and unconscious.

“Damn your Rain Dance!” Flora shouted, recalling her smoking Cacturne. “Fine, you’ll get your badge!”

She threw a small object to him; it was a rather simple round silvery plate like the others, but this one was carved with a leaflike pattern on top. He put it in his pocket as he smiled at the exhausted Jolteon and recalled him.

“Nice match,” he commented as they walked out through the doorway. Flora merely stormed back into the small building without answering.

Mark shrugged, felt the badge in his pocket and headed back towards Ash’s house.

Spoiler: Spoiler-free commentary

In which I stick far too closely to my thirteen-year-old self's envisioning of these events, where everyone is bizarrely willing to argue with a friend who's just come back from the dead. Chaletwo is also bizarrely willing to sit there silently while May argues with Mark about whether any of their conversation happened, without either trying to stop Mark from telling this random girl about their plan or just butting in to confirm. I have no explanation for this.

Ash's mysterious subconscious connection to legendaries, and everyone deciding sure, it's probably heritable so Alan will do fine instead, sure is something. Like a lot of things I ended up doing absolutely nothing with this, other than it serving as an excuse to have Alan join them, but... I could have just had Alan join them without this thing about how actually they were going to ask Ash for a very specific reason but they wind up with Alan anyway because uhhhh sure the specific reason applies to him too for flimsy reasons. Strange, strange choices by fifteen-year-old me.

In this version I was more conscious than originally of the fact badges shouldn't really be a priority anymore, and thus had Mark be a lot more reluctant to just continue journeying, but instead I just had May and Alan convince him by being hilariously insistent on it for some reason, which comes off even sillier than if he'd just been less reluctant. (May would insist on collecting her own badges, to be fair, but why on Earth is Alan so determined to convince Mark to keep collecting badges.) Also, why does Chaletwo have nothing to say about this whole discussion.

I haven't been remotely consistent about the four-move limit in official battles up to this point, because this was where I came up with it, but it will continue to be a thing from here.