Pokémon: The Age of Heroes [OOC]

Telmund remembers very little of his early childhood, having been entirely alone for the first year of his life; a scared little Beldum growing up on the back streets of Skyhaven. He spoke with no-one, was found by no-one, having only the recesses of his own mind to keep him occupied. He was a solitary being, only a child, finding scraps of rubble and such to eat here and there. Understandably, he had little opportunity to develop a proper personality.

That is, until he found the universities and the libraries. Now, of course, the Beldum couldn't yet read at this point, so the books were of no use to him for reading purposes. But Tel was small-ish, and the bookshelves provided wonderful cover so that he could sit in and listen. Despite being so young, Telmund could understand speech – being a Beldum helped, and he was a clever one, at that. As much as it later embarrassed him, Tel also found that books weren't too bad of a food source. Luckily, it was only Hender, his later tutor, who ever found out; to everyone else, there was simply 'the Phantom East Wing Book Shredder' that mysteriously stopped after a few months.

It was one evening in late October that Telmund finally made any real sort of contact with others. Unfortunately, it began with the wrong sort of contact. He'd just had a meal and a short nap on one of the lower shelves of the East wing, and promptly wriggled out of his book tent – directly into the path of a city guard's boot. The guard tripped and fell with an "oof", and Tel, startled, retreated to the safety of the bookcase. The guard, a grumpy-looking Pinsir who – unbeknownst to anyone else present – had been having a solidly mediocre day, got up and turned in rage on the nearest living being he could see.

A frightened Chimchar looked up at him, a child who can't have been much older than Telmund was at the time. As the guard began to shout, the Chimchar clung to its mother, who frankly looked just as frightened. As the Pinsir raised his hand to strike (he was really having a bad day) he froze. Not by his own will – he had been surrounded by a pink aura, which soon moved, taking him with it; straight into the bookshelf he was next to, toppling him and it. A Gardevoir arrived, obviously the source of the psychic attack. He assured himself that the Chimchar and its mother were unharmed, then turned to the Pinsir, who was now rising groggily from the floor.

"Who do you think you are? I oughtta-"

"Quiet." The Gardevoir silenced him, trapping his movements in another psychic hold, "You are to calm down. You are not to harm this family or any other. And you are to leave. If you do not, then I shall personally Psyshock you all the way to the Torn World. Understood?"

Upon the freeing of the guard's head, the Pinsir nodded profusely.

"I wasn't thinking! I've just had a bad day, please don't do that!"

And thus, the situation was resolved. The Gardevoir, who went by the name of Hender the Seven Eyes, wasn't worried. He wouldn't say that he had 'friends' in high places, considering that a lot of the aristocrats were pompous, pretentious and devoid of any charity or compassion. He just had a lot of people in high places who owed him favours, and some even that owed him their lives. Hender sighed and levitated the bookshelf and book debris back to its original position – something, though, seemed off. Another presence. One that wasn't a book.

Upon isolating and separating the presence, he found a small Beldum. It took a while of concerned asking, but eventually Hender pried through – the Beldum had no family, no home, not even so much as a name; goodness knows how his speech was coherent enough, despite Beldums' general psychic abilities making it easier. Hender had been looking for a while now for an excuse to settle down and retire properly, and now Arceus had just handed it to him on a silver platter. If he didn't take this Beldum in, he might as well just throw his retirement down the gutter.

The early years were a tad difficult, considering that Hender had little of his own family experience, despite his all-round wisdom. It helped that Telmund turned out to be very obedient and non-troublesome. Coming up with a name was the first step, though that ended up being fairly anti-climactic:

"Do you have a name?"

"No."

"Would you like one?"

"Yes."

"Well, what kind of name would you like?"

"Um… Tel?"

"Anything else?"

"Maybe Mund."

"Mund, eh? Telmund, then?"

"Okay."

Still, as time went on, Tel grew more vibrant. He wanted to learn, and Hender gladly taught him anything he could – whether that was science, philosophy, combat, or a mixture of it all. Hender had full access to the libraries and universities of Skyhaven, being an elder scholar, and he passed those benefits on to Telmund. His house, in fact, is a large-ish tower that connects directly to the library's east wing. The two grew very close – as a teacher and a student, a parent and a child, but first and foremost, simply as friends. They were both intelligent beings, and although Hender was the tutor and Telmund the pupil, both had a mutual respect that they were their own people. Such is often the case with psychic types.

The days following Tel's spending of a year under the Gardevoir's wing were probably the happiest of his life. He was intelligent enough to understand others, but ignorant enough to be relatively unaware of the horrors of the world. Hender showed him kindness and respect, and responded excellently to his constant questions and queries. Hender did well in that he never lied to Telmund, sugar-coating truth, but instead told him that it would be better for him to know later, and Hender would deal with it for now. When Hender taught the occasional lecture at the University, he would bring Tel along to listen. Afterwards, the sage would sit down with his student and explain it to the child. Telmund always listened intently, soaking up the knowledge like a sponge.

After only a few weeks of being taught, Telmund got a hold of reading. With the alphabet and letter sounds covered, his mind did most of the rest. Hender used to sit down and read books to the child, but as he started teaching him reading, he also started challenging Tel to read himself. Every now and then, Telmund would ask what a certain word meant, or how it was pronounced. At first, it was every few seconds. After a few minutes of that, it changed to every few minutes. Then hours. Then days. Then months. Then… not really at all. Tel's reading would become a skill that he would forever cherish, and make fantastic use of. At nineteen, he's almost completely cleared the East Wing – he regrets eating those books as a child. He could have read them that other day when he didn't have anything.

At thirteen, Telmund evolved into a Metang; that was when the combat training increased. Before, it had taken a back seat, as the combat that Tel as a Beldum was interested in was more simply to do with Hender's past exploits as an adventurer. As a Metang, though, Tel became more interested in being able to defend himself, and naturally, Hender was more than happy to teach him. Telmund had had some experience with bullying, though he generally didn't spend much time around others other than Hender and some of the other librarians and teachers of the universities. Iron Defence followed by a Zen Headbutt soon became a winning combo, after which he didn't seem to be bothered much anymore. Thirteen was also when he received the bracers as a birthday present, but that isn't too important.

It was in combat training that Telmund was discovered to have a natural affinity for Steel-type moves – Hender, the wise sage that he was, spotted immediately his potential as a Hero. Although Tel was definitely happy to have the Steel mastery, he still didn't think it quite right. He'd always taken far more interest in his intellectual pursuits, and far preferred the special moves in general, like Psychic and Psybeam. In truth, he thinks his elemental mastery is basically… a mistake. And that's not even counting the fact that he generally hates the stress of combat.

Tel's social life was, in two words, "barely existent". Despite living right next to a university, Telmund manages to avoid company. Members of Skyhaven's aristocracy and a few of the less affluent were ever present in the place, and many actually seemed like very nice people. Unfortunately, the Metang's shyness constantly got the better of him. If anyone so much as smiled at him, nervousness would build up in his body and pull him in the opposite direction. Quickly. It seemed that Hender was the only person who he could hold a coherent conversation with. Aside from that, Tel wasn't sure he'd said more than four words at once to any other person.

He likes his home in Skyhaven, as much as he yearns to get out into the world and see more. Fenju's ruins would certainly be an interesting place to visit – to learn of their cultures and technologies, if artefacts can be deciphered, would surely lead to immense discoveries. What discoveries could the people of Indrasil have made, being as isolated as they are? Who knows what secrets await in the cold North? And if the Paragons, maybe even Arceus, are both real and contactable, what great floods of wisdom could they possibly impart?

There were times when Hender would take Tel out on field trips – lessons and exertions in or outside of Skyhaven. They include the only real battle experience Telmund has, though he views it less as experience and more as a traumatic event. They went on a few expeditions, the last of which being when Tel was seventeen. Hender developed problems on the matter – being a powerful psychic and magician made the Seven Eyes confident in his ability; that combined with impatience with the Crimson Guard led him to fear that he'd lose his temper, and that wasn't something he wanted to do around Tel. It was the first time that Telmund really saw Hender as not a solid beacon of strength, but just another Pokémon, like he was. It was difficult for the Metang, and led to a more closed-off life for the two over the next year. Usual uni and library work continued, but with Hender going through a stage of introversion it became hard for Tel to be at all outgoing.

Now, Telmund the Learned is nineteen, a junior scholar in the same library he has spent most of his life. He lives out a fairly peaceful existence; reading, training, occasionally moving books – his shyness is less dominant, to the point where he may be able to manage a few short sentences. Bad luck if you want to keep eye contact for more than a second, though. Hender seems to be becoming more active again, having moved out of his stage of introversion. Realising the tensions of the World, though, and recently hearing of the commotion over the elemental plates, Tel is becoming increasingly nervous about the security of his way of life.

The last of Telmund and Hender's field trips, when Tel was seventeen.

"Hello, Telmund."

"Good morning, Krax."

Three words, still not four. He knew he'd have to improve, but he just… didn't. It was the classic case of waiting for the right time that never came. Telmund the Learned knew that he couldn't have his shy tendencies dominating him all his life. But it couldn't hurt to just leave it one more day, could it?

Ah, new books. A new set of print, just come in – he didn't mind carrying them in to place them on the shelves. It meant he knew where they were when he came to read them, which he most certainly would. Tel loved books. Books were never awkward, you could always know you were safe with a book – no talking back, no noise, nothing unexpected; just pick it up, read what you want, put it down. Well, some people got papercuts, but being a Metang gave him a useful invulnerability to that. Were he a Clefairy or a Pikachu or something, he'd probably be more papercut than Pokémon.

"Hey there!"

"AAGH!" Tel was yanked from his train of thought by someone in front of him, his body reacting in a very similar way to his voice. Books were flung in all directions, and Telmund hastily thrust his metal arms outwards. To his delight and surprise, the books froze in place, surrounded by a pink glow. The bystander watched intently as the Metang drew the books back into position on his arms, after which the glow soon faded.

"Wow." The bystander, a Nidorina, commented, "That was really impressive."

Tel laughed nervously, "Thanks…"

"Hey, aren't you Telmund?"

Tel sighed, taking specific interest in the skirting board. "Yeah…"

"Charden Melaine, pleased to meet your acquaintance." The Nidorina smiled, thrusting her hand forwards for a handshake. Telmund glanced worriedly at the hand for a second, then continued his desperate avoidance of eye contact.

"Uhh… Carrying…"

"Oh, sorry, I'll ah… leave you to it, then. See you round, Telmund!"

And with that, Charden left – a bit miffed, though she didn't show it. Tel cautiously floated past, plonking the books down on the leftmost bookshelf. A voice next to him startled him again.

"So who was that?"

"AGH! Huhh..." Tel was shocked, then relived at the sight of a familiar face; Hender the Seven Eyes, his tutor, mentor – foster father, even, though the two never really acknowledged it.

"My apologies. You're really on-edge, Tel. Anyone you know?"

"Charden Melaine. Pleased to meet my acquaintance, apparently."

"Well remembered." Hender said dryly, "Though still only three words – no, I'm afraid 'uhh' doesn't count."

"I'm fairly sure if it did I'd be spouting monologues at every turn."

The old Gardevoir chuckled, resting a hand on the Metang's shoulder.

"I'm sure you would. Come, if you're ready then we should depart. I feel it would be best to catch the bees earlier, before they come back from the first nectar run. We should be concealed well enough, but best not to take chances."

"Chances? Is this dangerous, Hender?"

The sage dismissed the thought with a wave, "Oh, Arceus, no. Unless you move at all. Or think too loudly."

Tel raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes at his mentor's fear-mongering. He was older, yes, but part of him was still the sly, quick-witted adventurer; seeing the sights, fighting the battles and bantering with allies. Annoying, but admittedly refreshing.

There was little to prepare before the two left, turning onto Main Street before finding the exit. The two Feuding Giants towered above as Skyhaven sank away from them, the Pinnacle rising even higher as an ever-present feature of the skyline. City soon gave way to plains as they turned to their left, soon coming across Hender's desired spot – a grassy ledge overlooking what looked like a medium-sized Combee hive. The Seven Eyes went prone, settling nicely into the foliage.

"Ah, now this should cover us nicely."

"Us? You're fine, but me? Couldn't you find a nice grey/gold rock for me to sit by?"

"You will be fine, Tel. I'm no better off than you."

"You're massively better off than me! Your body is designed for grass camouflage compared to mine – your head looks like a cabbage, for goodness' sake."

Hender frowned, "I resent that statement. Now nestle down, there's enough greenery to cover you completely. We're far enough away from the hive anyhow, they will not bother us."

Tel raised an eyebrow, sceptical, then gave up and dove into the undergrowth. Combees buzzed relentlessly around the hive, and if one peeked inside with sharp enough eyes, one would spot the outline of a Vespiquen, content in her regal fortress. The teacher and pupil waited quietly for a short while, with only the monotonous hum of the hive to fill the silence. A minute or so passed, and then Hender spoke:

"So, Telmund, tell me: how exactly would you rate the importance of a single Combee?"

"In the grand scheme of things?"

"Let's say… in a hive. One Combee in a hive."

"Low. One out of hundreds."

"Very well. A very reasonable argument. Now, what is the importance of a Vespiquen in a hive?"

"High."

"And why, per chance, is the Vespiquen's importance high?"

"Because it is the leader of the hive."

"Mhmm. A valid point, Tel, but consider this; take away all of the Combees. Now what importance does the Vespiquen have?"

"… Virtually none."

"Good. And why?"

"Because her importance comes from leading the hive. With no hive, it has nothing to lead, and thus little to no importance."

"Exactly, Tel. Without Combees to populate the hive, being Queen of the hive means nothing. A King is only as successful as his kingdom – it is the kingdom that holds the true importance, not the figurehead behind it. All of the little bees, who alone seem to hold little importance, actually hold all of the importance in the world. Ponder that, we'll see if- wait- what's going on? That isn't..."

Hender's eyes widened in shock as the Combees became more and more agitated, and the source of that agitation became clear: A patrol of King Aion's men, mostly Fire-types, torching the hive into a blackened mess of what used to be honeycomb. Several Combees attempted to retaliate, but couldn't pass the wall of flame that was soon engulfing their home. Hender the Seven Eyes' face twisted into a scowl, his two physical eyes almost glowing with hatred.

Tel looked to his mentor, "Hender, why are they burning the hive?"

"Probably because they can." The sage replied in disgust, "A hundred years ago, and I would have killed those men on-sight. Despicable behaviour. And in the name of honour, of all things. They make me sick. Come, we should go. Now."

Hender grabbed Tel by the arm to pull him away, forgetting that he was a very heavy Metang. Telmund didn't budge until he floated up from the ground, now pullable by his elder. He was shocked at two things:

First of all, the King's men. He'd always known that men like those existed, evil Pokémon without concern for anything good or true, but there'd always been a sort of disbelief that anyone in this world could be such people. Experiencing those people, seeing them first hand… it was something else, other than just hearing that some people had done some stuff over at some place.

The other thing that shocked him was Hender's reaction to it. He was angry, furious – more angry than Tel had ever seen the Gardevoir. He looked not just angry, either, but deeply saddened, cursing himself for being unable – or unwilling – to do anything to stop the men. Sometimes it was hard for Tel to remember that although Hender was his teacher and mentor, a solid shoulder to lean on, he was also just another Pokémon. Just like him. With two things to shock him, unfortunately, it took virtually no time at all for Tel to be met with a third.

"Um, Hender – is it me, or is the buzzing getting louder?"

"Oh, good." Hender the Seven Eyes didn't beat around the bush, instead stopping dead in his tracks, motioning for Telmund to move closer. This field trip was just getting worse and worse – now he had to fend off a whole swarm of Combees and- no, that wasn't- it was. The Vespiquen was there, too.

"Why is the Vespiquen after us?" Tel cried.

"Because Lady Luck is a cruel mistress, my student. Now stay close, and remember your training."

"We're going to fight them? Are you sure you don't have any honey? I'm sure we could explain our innocence over a lovely meal."

"As much as I'm terribly certain that would work, Telmund, I'm afraid I'm fresh out of honey."

Tel simply groaned in response, a strange, resonant, metallic sound, then began reciting various facts: The square root of one-hundred-and-sixty-nine is thirteen, a Combee is a dual Bug and Flying type Pokémon resembling three pieces of honeycomb with wings, honey is delicious. Hender took a more practical approach, levitating a multitude of stones and rocks with psychic energy. One by one, he flung his hands out to launch them, glowing missiles flying forwards and curving with an unfailing will to strike their targets. Combees fell in their masses, but where was the Vespiquen?

A large shadow loomed over Tel from above. Oh. There it was.

The Vespiquen's claw slashed down at Telmund in a Fury Cutter, catching him off-guard. The Metang hastily brought his claws up to defend, forming a white ball of energy between them. The Fury Cutter sliced cleanly through the ball, hitting Tel and sending him spinning. As he slowed, he launched the ball, which slammed into the Vespiquen in a Metal Burst attack. Tel looked on in surprise for a moment.

"Huh. That worked. How did that work? Ah, uh- Hender! Vespiquen! Help! Please…"

"You can handle her yourself." The Seven Eyes told his apprentice calmly, slamming three Combees into the ground with a Psychic attack, "Remember? A Queen is nothing without her hive. I'll deal with the Combees, you just focus."

"Somehow that really isn't too reassuring right now- AH!" Tel barely blocked a Slash attack, his Steel typing and a quick Iron Defense rendering the attack relatively harmless. "Uuughhhh, here goes nothing…"

The Vespiquen readied herself for yet another attack, what looked like dark smoke forming on her right hand. They have Ghost type moves? Is that a Ghost type move? Tel thought worriedly, Please say that isn't a Ghost type move…

As the Queen of the hive moved in for the Pursuit attack – thankfully not a Ghost type move – Telmund's right hand began to crackle with electricity, and steam poured off from his left as frost began to form on the surface. Suddenly, both combatants launched their attacks at once; the two right fists connected, and as Tel visibly recoiled from the Dark energy, the Vespiquen's body convulsed with a stream of electricity from the Thunder Punch. With the Queen clearly frazzled, and Tel hurt but steady, the young Metang followed up with his left claw. Ice Punch knocked the Vespiquen to the ground, and soon she stopped buzzing.

Hender had made short work of the hundred or so Combees who had assailed them, having been able to freely observe the end of Telmund's fight. Tel seemed lost in thought, simply staring at the fallen hive Queen before him, regret invading his mind in a flood of guilt. This was wrong. His mentor's voice yanked him to his senses.

"Tel, we must be going. It will do no good to stay here any longer."

Tel appeared to be in a state of shock, "… Is- is she dead? Why did we have to fight them?"

"They attacked us, Telmund; there is nothing wrong with self-defence. If the hive Queen is dead, then you simply gave her a better fate than dying at the hands of the King's monsters. However, I think it is best if we don't know whether she still lives. Leave her be. Now, let us go, before I change my mind and bury the King's men alive in the hive they're incinerating…"

Hender formed a pink orb in his hands, pushing it carefully onto Tel to heal his wounds. He looked at his student in concern, which was difficult when he was still bristling with anger at his own inability to do… was it the right thing? He didn't know, but he didn't want to risk jeopardising his life in Skyhaven, and more importantly, Tel's life there, too. He couldn't really bear to think about it. Telmund was just as saddened as Hender was, inwardly distraught at the reality of the experience. He'd learned of people like King Aion's men, yes, but he'd been kept safe from them in his sheltered life. The truth was that those people were alive, they were active, and they were close. The two walked back in silence to the safety of their home, understandably in something of a bad mood.

On closing the door to his house/tower, Hender sighed and rested his back on the frame. The field trip had failed, and was frankly quite depressing for the both of them. He looked over at Tel; his apprentice, his student, his child – visibly saddened at the day's events, staring solemnly at nowhere in particular. Hender broke the silence.

"So… a cabbage? Really?"

Telmund the Learned managed a small smile.