[Pokémon] Rebirth

Welcome, all, to a story I have been writing for some time that I decided to bring to Pokecommunity!

REBIRTH

Genre: Journey/Action/Supernatural/A Little Romance

Warnings: Mild language usage, mild sexual references; basically something you would see in a PG-13 flick.

Characters: I use a mix of OC's and characters from the game and anime.



Without further ado...! Or a less cheesy transition...

Prologue​

"Game over!" his adversary roared.

"For you!" the youth retorted, his weapon clashing over and over with his foe's in a fearsome battle. His strikes were gradually overpowered by the other's incremental assault, but the fear of his impending peril served as a much needed adrenaline rush. The boy picked up his pace, maneuvering through the shifting sands of a silent beach, blocking blows with gaining speed. "How can you kill me when you can't catch up to me?"


Yet, as fate would have it, a sharp branch came across the boy's path. To his joy he was able to sidestep the obstacle, but it left him wide open for his foe to knock his weapon from his hand which flew several feet away. And before the boy could blink, he found himself lying on the sand with a menacing sword mere inches from his pulsing throat.

"Prepare to die!" the victor cackled as he lifted his sword for the final strike. The boy quivered in fear, sweat dripping on the sand, until—

Slash!

"I win again!" the foe rejoiced as he ruffled his short, silver hair, sand particles flying about like silicate fireworks.

"You got lucky that time!" the boy whined.

"You say that every time, Adam," his friend teased, then extended his hand to the boy, who was lying right next to his upright, wooden toy sword. "I gotcha, buddy."

After a moment's hesitation, the boy accepted his friend's help. Once he was pulled back up, Adam urged, "Come on, Pierce! I just need one more chance to beat you." He pulled on the wooden sword and raised it in a battle stance.

"But doesn't your dad want you home early?" Pierce queried.

Adam took in his surroundings. The sun shone over the tranquil beach and crystal clear sea as he rubbed his chestnut hair in thought.

"I have time for one more game," the lad grinned. In the next second, Pierce leapt like a cub for his friend's sword as the two youngsters reengaged in their competitive horseplaying. Pokémon Island vibrated with all different scopes of life, and this was especially evident today. The boys were blessed to find themselves in a moment of pure, unfaltering joy.

After parting from his closest friend at a time nearing sunset, Adam—shivering from his wet trousers—returned to his home, a petite yet welcoming residence located in a private section of island. Pierce was long gone, but he now faced the challenge of sneaking home without alerting his parents. Adam tested all the windows around the house until he found one unlocked. After climbing inside and landing in the kitchen, he slyly tiptoed to his bedroom's doorknob, his freedom within reach, when the lights flickered on.

"Young man, you're old enough to know how late it is!"

Adam, alarmed by the scolding, turned to see an older man with slick, black hair, skin color almost as tan as his own, and wrinkles protruding his forehead.

"I'm s-sorry, Father," the frightened boy whimpered. "I was having so much fun with Pierce, and I lost track of—"

"This is the second time this week you have done this, Adam!" His father, donning a black night-robe, crossed his arms. "I knew that kid would be a bad influence for you. He is no excuse for you to be ignoring your curfew! Besides, what about your studies? What about learning your culture? Does that not matter to you?!"

He continued to lecture his son, who had heard this all before yet remained stricken with fear as he awaited his punishment. His father was always overly concerned with how often Adam was reading or what prayers he had memorized. But he never asked Adam about other things that interested him, like how fun public school could be, or how many friends he had made in town.

In the midst of his dad's scolding, a delicately figured lady in a matching white robe and carnation slippers slid into the room. At first she appeared half-awake and yawned, but then the woman widened her eyes at the sight of the little boy's presence.

"Oh, sweetie, you're safe," she cried with relief. "That was all I had prayed for tonight. Thank the heavens Arceus has answered." Still talking to her son, she reached for the cabinets to pull out a bowl and eating utensils, her long, strawberry red mane swaying after every brisk movement. "Tell me, Adam, are you hungry? Would you like some leftover pasta?"

"Now is not the time, Debbie," Adam's father protested.

The woman objected, "That's nonsense, Aaron. You can punish him tomorrow. It is the middle of the night and our son looks like he hasn't eaten since lunch."

She embraced her child warmly, but was taken aback by his cold, wet skin. "And he's freezing! Sweetie, you prepare yourself a bath." She hunched over her child and added in a motherly tenor, "Then, when you're squeaky clean, I'll serve you some of Mommy's special soup that'll warm you up really nicely."

Adam politely nodded and, after hugging both of his parents, carried on to the bathroom. Before Aaron could interject, his wife swiftly nagged, "Now honestly, Aaron. Adam is just a child; he was only having fun with a friend. He is never going to learn the lessons you wish to teach him if you do not provide for him a nurturing and patient environment. It's like my mother says: affection breeds cooperation."

"I understand, Deborah," Aaron affirmed, his arms still crossed, "but come on! He is already eight years old. And if he is ever to be your successor, then he needs to be showing signs of responsibility by now." He stared at the bathroom door and solemnly admit, "Our son has the potential for greatness and I simply do not want him to squander it."

Deborah grabbed her husband's shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, which calmed his temperament. She warmly insisted, "I will always respect the discipline you instill in our son, honey. Frankly, I cannot do it by myself, and I think it will help him grow into a wonderful man."

Aaron looked at her with suspicion—for he had not won a single argument against his wife since their matrimony—which she addressed, "But remember one thing: you cannot see his destiny. The path the Lord has chosen for Adam will be revealed to him, and only to him, when the time is right. Relax!"

Aaron finally shrugged the argument off with a heavy sigh of defeat, kissed his loving wife on the lips, and strolled into their bedroom. "I married a wise and observant woman," he chuckled. "I suppose you win this time."

"There is no winning in marriage, Aaron," she said with a smile.

"No, but we can still celebrate your victory." He suggestively raised a brow, motioning towards the bedroom.

His alluring wife softly covered her ruby lips with her olive fingertips, giggling, "Oh, hush, you. Maybe after Adam has gone to bed. But I had a long day at the village so no guarantees."

"I will wait up then."

After her husband left the kitchen, Deborah strolled to the front of the house, looking out the window at the starry sky, which shined the brightest in this corner of the island. She imagined the celestial bodies painting a glorious picture for her son's righteous destiny.

"Oh, my dear Adam," Deborah whispered to herself. "I know Arceus must have incredible plans for you…I hope I am there to see them to come to fruition."

She returned to reality at the distant sound of a young boy energetically splashing water in the bathroom, which forced a smile across her feminine lips. But before Deborah could retire to the kitchen to prepare her son's meal, a strange light suddenly yet briefly emanated from the dormant volcano at the island's center, catching her attention. Her peaceful expression transitioned into one with great worry.

"It's fine," she halfheartedly reassured herself. "Yet another thing not to be handled until the morning, I suppose."

==:==:==:==:==

At the summit of that volcano, a shadowy man shrouded from head to toe in a dark aura scouted the foreign island from his towering view. A hint of white was exposed at the corner of his mouth as he vivaciously grinned at his success. "It worked!" he roared and squeezed his hands together. "Pokémon Island…you're mine!"

1. The End of Normalcy, Part 1​

Two kids ran across the street chasing after their rubber ball when their preoccupied father was not looking, but little did they know that a man was also chasing after his out-of-control wheelbarrow containing a heavy load of cinderblocks. As the father and a small crowd watched on that busy boulevard in downtown Pokémon Island in horror, a swift teenager skating by deflected the ball with his arm so that the children ran to the other side and the wheelbarrow rolled by without a single casualty. The crowd applauded the skater's bravery, but he was too focused on the trio of angry roughnecks pursuing him and zoomed forward.

"Get back here, ya coward!" the bulky leader of a trio of roughneck teens hollered.

The skater turned around for a brief second, amused at the gaining distance between the ruffians and himself. His spiky, brown hair defied physics, remaining perfectly intact as he made a sharp turn around a corner, almost colliding with a bench and startling a couple of women but hopping over it just in time. He took one last look behind him, and when he saw his chasers panting at the corner a smile developed on his youthful face over his victorious escape.

After a few blocks, he stopped his board against a pole and pulled out an elegant scarf from his pocket. He pressed his fingers into his sore wrists to ease them until the ringing of a door caused him to fix his gaze on the young girl in a salmon mini-dress who came outside.

Her hair was peach and curled outwards at the bottom, flowing elegantly down to her shoulders. Her pearl white smile, even whiter than her smooth, enticing complexion, beamed when she saw the scarf. "Adam!" she praised. "You did it! My nana's scarf!" The girl accepted the item from the boy, wrapping it around her neck as she went on to joke, "You know, you would make a great superhero if the island ever needed one."

"It was nothing." Adam blushed, momentarily turning away from the girl. The sun's rays struck down on his tanned skin, turquoise hoodie, and ripped jeans. "You know, Maya," he started slowly, her ears perking, "I don't see the point of you going to this salon every week. Your hair looks the same each time."

Maya smiled. "Okay, so you got my scarf back from those creeps. I guess I owe you one." She pivoted her cream-colored slipper on the ground and wrapped her finger at the end of her curls. "What will it be?"

Adam shot a smile back. For the first time in a while, he knew exactly what he wanted.

==:==:==:==:==

"Do you have to eat like that, Adam?" Maya questioned with a look of discomfort. "We have time."

The spiky-haired lad did not hear her, for he was preoccupied with the fleet of BBQ wings placed in front of him at a booth in an empty diner. He tore away at their meaty carcasses like a possessed mongrel.

Maya watched him with disgust. "Adam! Did you hear me?"

"Huh?" The boy cocked his head, which made a dot of barbecue sauce splash onto his friend's dimpled cheek. Adam stared at Maya with his caramel eyes, implying his feeling of guilt since his mouth was too busy to voice it. Luckily for him she laughed it off, wiping the blemish with a napkin.

"Sorry about that. Lou's wings are my weakness," Adam informed after processing all the meat down his throat. "And actually, I have to visit my grandmother today," he rolled his eyes, "among other things."

"Oh, okay." Maya grabbed another napkin from its dispenser and drew out a pen from her purse. She began practicing her penmanship on the paper, as she did periodically every day. "I gotta say I was surprised when you asked for all that chicken. Does your family not practice Meatless Monday anymore?"

Adam also reached for a napkin, using it instead to wipe his sauce-covered face. "Aw, come on, Maya. You know I don't follow that Arceus/holiness nonsense. It's not like any of the other kids around here do it."

"I kinda like the idea of a god," Maya confessed as she crossed her t's and dots her i's. "Sometimes I wish my family had culture as rich and ancient as yours."

Adam sourly retorted, "Your family's culture is money." The girl rolled her eyes. "It's true. Your family worships it to the extent that mine worships Arceus. But unlike your 'god', mine is worthless. I mean, what's the point of dedicating so much time to some righteous Pokémon if Pokémon don't even exist in the first place?"

Adam was just warming up in his rant over a subject that had left him frustrated in recent years, that is until he noticed Maya's naturally wide grin morphing into a disenchanted frown. Once against guilty over his actions, he croaked, "I mean, it's not like I'm anti-Arceus, y'know? …I'm just not a strict follower, is all."

"I guess." The girl sighed and resumed her calligraphy.

"Trust me," he proclaimed. "Just because I'm not an avid follower doesn't make me a bad guy, and following it doesn't necessarily make you a good one, either."

"You're right. You're a bad guy for many other reasons," she quipped, once again cracking the smile which melted the hearts of all the boys in school. Even Adam was occasionally mesmerized by her beauty, her peach locks glistening under the sunlight, her poise and elegance unmatched by any other.

But Adam snapped out of his trance and, silently rejoicing Maya's lifted mood, used this opportunity to inquire about something that had been on his mind. "So why did you ask me to retrieve your mother's scarf?"

"Who else would I ask?"

"You know…your boyfriend."

Maya's pen almost slipped out of her hand. She looked up, cheeks vermillion like ancient pottery, and nervously stammered, "Oh, uhh…I meant to…but…he told me he was busy today, before I had a chance to ask…So I turned to you, Adam…my dear friend, Adam, haha." She grinned, though this time it didn't feel quite so sincere.

It was no secret that Maya's boyfriend was not held of high regard to Adam, prompting the teen to always make fun of his elitist lifestyle. "What was he doing, Maya?" he taunted. "Playing cricket?"

"No, he plays that on the weekends!" Maya jumped to defend her mate, only to realize the silliness of her tone. "It was…" she gulped, "…water polo."

Adam broke into laughter. "That's rich," he boomed. "And I'm talking about his extracurriculars, not his assets."

"Hilarious," Maya crowed unenthusiastically. "He's a good guy—he really is," she declared, trying to coax Adam as well as herself. "He's good to me."

"I guess that's all that matters," Adam commented halfheartedly. "And what about Pierce?"

"Huh?" a confused Maya said. "What about Pierce?"

"Why didn't you ask him for help? He's stronger than me. You see him just as often as you see me…There's gotta be some reason why you would ask for my help over his."

Maya stared into space to search for the answer. "Oh…I, umm…" But then she gazed at her friend, catching him off guard. "I guess… I asked you, because I asked you. You came into my mind before he did. I can't give you an explanation for it, I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine, Maya." Adam tried to conceal his climbing emotions by looking out the window. His palms were sweating and his heart was racing, as they usually did after prolonged exposure to the sweet, beloved girl. Once he succeeding in burying these feelings, however, he dejectedly suggested, "You were probably worried about the record he's been building at the police station, and you knew I'd handle it better."

Maya looked at the opposite direction to hide her disappointment. "Yeah… you're probably right, Adam."

The two remained awkwardly silent for a while until a buzzing noise sounded off in Maya's handbag. "Sorry, that's my messenger," she explained while pulling out the device. After reading the new message, she frowned. "Oh no…"

"What's wrong?" Adam asked, just as he witnessed through the window a black limousine pull up at the diner. "Maya…are those your friends in that car?"

"I'm sorry," she confessed. "I told them I would meet up with them later, after lunch with you, but they…"

"Lemme guess: they're here to 'save' you from me?"

Maya's bottom lip protruded. "Of course not, Adam." But of all the skills the gifted girl possessed, lying was not one of them. So when her guard was down, the boy was able to snatch the beeper. "Adam, don't!"

But her pleas failed to discourage the boy from reading the messages, in which Maya's socialite friends referred to him as "dirt poor" and "trash", along with a few expletives.

"Adam," the girl started, "you know how those girls can be. Don't pay mind to them."

"Then why do you hang out with them?" he probed, anger evident in his eyes.

Maya bit her lip, unsure how to answer such a difficult question. Fortunately for her, a girl in a revealing sundress and high heels deterred attention from her when she exited the limo and began to stomp her heels on the way to the diner. "Adam, my friends…" she motioned to the window. "They're coming."

"You're right. I shouldn't pay mind to them," the boy added, even though his bitterness was transparent.

"I'm so sorry, Adam, but—"

"You have to go. Look, I've seen you today more than I've seen you all week, so I guess that counts for something." Adam waited for Maya to beg him to stay, but he knew that would never happen. Not anymore. Instead the girl struggled to find the right words but fails. "I have to go, too—you know, my grandmother and all. But thanks for lunch. It was nice." He put on his fingerless gloves, grabbed his board, and speedily paced out of the diner without once looking back, the socialite from the limo gliding inside.

"Maya!" she shouted at the emotionally torn girl. "Come on, we can't wait for you forever."

"Sorry," Maya apologized for the umpteenth time that day, friskily grabbing her purse and meeting her at the door. "I'm coming right now."

The lanky debutante twisted her long neck, peering at Adam riding away, and scoffed, "Honestly, darling, why do you even associate yourself with that indigenous misfit?"

Maya froze at the harsh remark, wanting more than anything to bite the girl's head off. But, to her innermost dismay, she succumbed to her classy upbringing and offered a more peaceful response. "Well…when I first moved here, he was the only one who would be my friend."

The lanky one crossed her twig arms disapprovingly. "As if!" she said, but it didn't discourage the girl.

"Oh Adam, he was so full of life, and I will always cherish the memories we have shared…but I guess a lot has changed since his mother's passing away."

==:==:==:==:==

Adam rode his skateboard menacingly across town, almost bumping into several pedestrians who cried "Scoundrel!" and "Ruffian!" at his passing by. I should've left Maya at the salon, the boy mentally noted. Though it seemed that Maya's new life had kept her away from the lad, he knew deep down that, in truth, he had also been distancing himself from her. As strong-minded and tough an image as he would like to project, Adam hated to be reminded of his social circumstances, especially by the mean girls from school. But Maya wasn't special to him just because they grew up together; she was one of the few people to see past his discredited social stigma of a tribal upbringing, to see Adam for himself.

The skater stopped at an ice cream vendor in front of the Pokémon Island Municipal Bank, towering above the neighboring stores and restaurants. Years ago, Adam and Maya would play for an entire day, racing through the monkey bars, seesawing, and sometimes just plain talking, and when they finished, they would take a bus to the bank, where Maya would use her allowance to purchase ice cream for Adam and herself. Often Pierce would sneak out of his home and tag along. But the day would always end by watching the sunset from the roof of the three-story building (Maya's father was golf buddies with the owner). And every sunset felt like the last sunset those kids would ever see, which made each time that much more enjoyable.

"Adam, you look bigger every time I see you! I see you've been hitting the gym, boy."

"Not even a little," the teen mused. "I'll have a double split."

The ice cream vendor replied, "You want a double-sized banana split for just yourself? Oh, how I miss youth!" He patted his belly with his bear-sized palm to signify his envy.

"S-sorry, I didn't realize," Adam admit to the man. "Just a small, on a cone, thanks." After paying the vendor, Adam thought to himself, Why did I order the double? I haven't ordered the double since…oh yeah, since Maya stopped coming. Maya's popularity has now soared since the days she and Adam used to spend on the playground together, a result of her blossoming beauty and her family's expanding wealth and influence. And because of this, she spent most of her time around her blueblood beau and superficial clique of friends.


She likes to believe that we're still as close as we were back then, Adam fretted, but so much has changed in our lives. I dunno, maybe we're just kidding ourselves.

Deep in thought, Adam rode past an alleyway while licking his cone, when a mischievous foot popped out and made contact with his shin, launching the teen off his board. But as he plummeted from his board, the only thing he saw was the cone—that glorious banana split—descending gracefully and everlastingly…until it was disastrously smashed by the unforgiving concrete, the heartbroken boy joining it as he landed face-first.

"C-cone," Adam murmured while weakly turning his body over. But before he could identify his offender, that same foot firmly stomped onto his chest, causing the poor teen to gag and rendering him immobile.

Adam's vision finally cleared, revealing a roughneck youth with a black fauxhawk, grey collared shirt, and biker vest. A scar, inflicted by a knife wound, traveled down from his bulky, upper arm to the tip of his forearm. He sneered, "You didn't think you could get away from us, Brownface, did ya?" Two goons emerged from the alleyway and sniggered at their leader's taunts.

"Garrett…" Adam muttered under the thug's boot, "That was… Maya's scarf… Let me go!"

Garrett pressed harder onto Adam's chest, prompting him to shout in pain. "Nobody tells Garrett what to do!" He recollected his cool composure and displayed his grimy grin. "You see, that's the thing about being a leader. I can do what I want and I got my buds to back me up."

He paused, his stooges grunting in agreement like gorillas, but then his smile faded away. "So if some spoiled little rich girl can live without a dumb scarf, I should have the right to snatch it for myself and pawn it to the highest bidder. Us townies gotta pay the bills somehow, Brownface. And that's something you'll never understand so long as you keep piggybacking off your dead mommy's lame-o tribe."

Adam struggled to free himself from his foe's lock and slammed his fists on the concrete when he realized it was a wasted effort. "Your leadership is a joke," he hissed. "You boss around the lowest of the lowlifes and use them to get your dirty work done. You resort to tricks because you know that if you played fair, I would wreck you."

The goons howled with laughter, labeling Adam's threats as harmless. "Okay Brownface," Garrett mocked, "lecture time is over. Time for some actual punishment."

"Couldn't have said it better, myself, punk!"

Shocked by such bold opposition, Garrett turned back and saw a tall and muscular teen with silver hair sweeping over his forehead in tufts of daggered spikes, wearing nothing but an unzipped sleeveless jacket, torn jeans, workout gloves, and worn out sneakers, his toned pecs and chiseled abdomen stealing the focus from everything else. Yet, before anybody could react, the young man whipped out a metal bo staff and, with dexterous movement, swept the weapon under one of Garrett's lackeys, succeeded by a strike to the other's neck and bringing him down with a skull-cracking conclusion.

"Y-you think you're so tough, Piercy?!" Garrett chided, though failing to mask his fear. "No way can you hold your own without that dumb stick o' yours."

"For what should have been the last time when I beat it into you," his foe uttered, "the name is Pierce. And if that's the way you feel," he compressed his adjustable rod, dropped it on the ground, and raised his fists.

"Big mistake, Piercy." But when Garrett turned to his new foe, he inadvertently loosened his hold on Adam. Ceasing his opportunity, the lad mercilessly twisted the thug's foot, a howl of pain emitted, and shoved him off balance. And before Garrett could react, his head collided with the brick wall, instantly knocking him cold.

Pierce, who was rearing to fight, relaxed his broad muscles and bent over to pick up his rod in disappointment. "You know," he boasted, "I had the dude. Why take that away from me?" Pierce was a guy who didn't have much to do on the streets of Pokémon Island but prove his superiority. Whether the situation called for physique or intellect, he was always up for the challenge.

He extended his arm. "I gotcha, buddy."

After a moment's hesitation, Adam accepts his friend's help and rubbed his aching head while pounding some life back into his bruised chest. "You know, you've never been the type to show off." He snickered at his pal's choice of attire, which clearly lacked a decent shirt. "What, did you run out of detergent?"

"As a matter of fact, I did, smart guy," Pierce retaliated lightheartedly. "Lucky for you that you don't have to choose between dinner and laundry. But hey," he flexed his proud figure, which attracted some looks from a couple of girls across the block, "it's a good excuse to get a decent tan."

"We both know you get sunburnt, showoff!" Adam and Pierce broke into a chorus of laughter. If there was one friendship that hadn't let the lad down, it was his oldest one to date. "I promised my grandmother I'd visit today. You can come if you want."

"Sure, I guess I can make time to escort you there, since you're so defenseless and all." Pierce grabbed his buddy's head and rubbed the top of it with his rock-hard fists, the shorter of the two pushing him off and playfully pounding away at his arms. Their ritualistic macho routine finished, they began their walk to Adam's grandmother's, with trivial matters coming up like Pierce's recent sexual exploits, Adam's newly perfected skating tricks, the monotony of this everlasting summer, and scheduling a date for the beach like the old days.

Finally, Pierce mentioned one of their more long-term goals. "It's too bad, Adam. If we had a way of ditching Pokémon Island this summer, then we wouldn't have to go through any more boring ones. We could finally see the world."

Adam had spoken with Pierce since they were children about taking an adventurous trip far away from the island. But unknown to his friend, he had grown hesitant about it.

"Remember back in the old days when it was just the two of us, playing at the beach and planning our futures?" Adam reminisced aloud. "And then Maya moved here. Things were never the same after that."

Pierce nodded in agreement. "She's the best. Man, just imagine it: the three of us out and about in foreign lands with different people."

"Uh-huh."

Pierce sensed his best friend's tone as they turned the corner, where the city had ended and an uphill hike awaited them. "You don't think she'll come with us," he analyzed.

"I dunno, Pierce. She's so much busier these days. And it doesn't help that her parents run her life."

"Come on, Adam. Maya is by far the coolest girl we've ever known," the urbanite affirmed. "But sadly she comes from the most narrow-minded, stuck up parents this island has ever known." He patted Adam's shoulder and offered a hearty chuckle over his self-described witty word play. "Of course, now that she's older they see her value, which is why they're gonna do everything they can to keep her away from some misguided native savage like you and some homeless delinquent like me."

Adam nodded along, pretending to be amused. But he knew Pierce was ashamed of his upbringing, to a much greater degree than Adam was of his own, even though he would never admit it.

"It doesn't matter," the older, taller teen assured his friend. "One of these days, Maya will see through their phoniness and ditch all of them for us.

"What makes you so sure?" Adam asked skeptically.

"Because we're the only ones who care about her, Adam."

"Come on, don't you think that's a bit dramatic?"

Pierce paused on the middle of the hill, Adam almost tripping on his friend's worn out running shoes with his low tops. "The grass looks really fresh today," the shirtless young man proclaimed, which induced a brow lift from his puzzled comrade. "Don't you think so?"

"Well, uh, yeah," Adam offered. "It's green and plump and full of life. Who wouldn't?"

"So you're saying that anyone would feel the same way about the grass." Adam nodded again, though he had a feeling he just agreed to his defeat. "You're right," Pierce continued, "and for all the reasons you said. But in the winter, when the blades one by one begin to brown and wither, what happens then?"

"…I don't know, Pierce."

"Nobody wants to give the grass the time of day, Adam. People only like grass when it looks fresh and good, when it feels good between your fingers. But if the grass knew any better, if the grass could feel, she would reject her admirers. Because she knows they'll turn a blind eye when it matters most, when she feels vulnerable." Pierce looked at his friend. "Except to the ones who love her most, even when she's withered."

==:==:==:==:==

At the top of the hill, Adam gazed at his surroundings, a peaceful village full of huts and merry children playing with wooden toys, much like he did at their age. A short distance in front of the boys, a wooden sign read "OAK TRIBE." A large, crimson red tent stood proudly behind the sign, and its gold lining and scent of incense indicated that the chief of the village lived there.

Before the teens could enter it, an old, plump woman stepped out of the hut, donning a sacred white robe that climbed up to her neck and swept gracefully to the tongs of her ruby sandals. After a few observant seconds, she hollered at them, "I see you boys have been roughhousing again."

"We're sorry, Grandmother," Adam apologized. "Believe me when I say it was purely self-defense."

"I always do, my boy." The old woman embraced her grandson. "And young man," she said to Pierce, "how nice of you to join us. I have enough noodle soup on the fire for you, too…and, I suppose, a top for your torso."

Pierce politely answered, "Thank you for you generosity, Lady Oak, and I look forward to your cooking. My clothes will be washed by tomorrow so there is no necessity for a shirt."

"I understand. You are a self-made man," the lady acknowledged. "In the meantime, I cannot have you looking like this in my home, so I will gladly lend you some proper clothing."

"Very well, Lady."

The woman crinkled her wrinkled face, as she always did when expressing great joy. "Now come inside, both of you."

The two youngsters followed the old woman into the tent, and, by the time Pierce had found a shirt that wasn't too small for his body, Lady Oak's soup was finished and accordingly served on her ancient rug over the floor where everyone gathered to dig in.

"I hope you do not mind that it is merely noodles today, Pierce," the woman informed. "As you may recall, the tribes of Pokémon Island practice Meatless Monday as a way to profess our faith to Arceus."

Pierce, presenting his well-mannered side, insisted, "I will never be ungrateful for your boundless hospitality, Lady Oak. If you are to allow it, I would further appreciate another bowl of your fine cooking."

"Smooth, Pierce," Adam interjected. As much as he cared for his friend, he could never get over his brownnosing when in the presence of his grandmother.

Still speaking to Pierce, Lady Oak turned to her grandson. "You could ask Adam for his serving, young man. He seems to still be full after all the chicken he ate today."

Adam almost spat out his soup. "How did you know?!"

Lady Oak chortled, her sacred garments flapping. She told the boy, "My bones may be brittle, my boy, but I have the nose of a bloodhound and I can smell Lou's BBQ wings from here." She recollected herself, combing her gray, straightened hair with her palms. "I am well aware that you are not the most religious member of the tribe, Adam. Now, I still have hope for you, but I will not push you into our ways."

Adam muttered, "If only my old man could be the same way." But Lady Oak shook her head in disapproval. "I'm sorry, Grandmother…I just wish I lived with you instead of him. Why can't I?"

"I know very well what you want, dear," she voiced, "and while you are already fifteen, I am afraid that is still not old enough to know what you need." She paused to take a sip of her soup but resumed without losing her pace. "When your mother passed on, it left a damaging hole in your family that, after seven years, has yet to be mended."

"You can blame him for that, Grandmother," Adam scoffed. Pierce stopped slurping his dinner to attentively observe the conversation, for he loved to hear Lady Oak's wisdom in practice.

"You are a wonderful boy, Adam," the Lady continued. "But did I ever tell you how your father made history on this island when he moved here?"

Adam groaned. "I've heard that story a thousand times, Grandmother. Traditionally, a newlywed couple moves in with the husband's tribe, but Father decided to move here with Mother because he thought it was the best option for their life together. The Fir Tribe eventually accepted his decision and the tradition has been upheld since."

"Well this is all new and fascinating to me," Pierce chimed in. "Could you please continue, Lady Oak?"

"Of course, young man," she told him. "As Adam said, his father left the Fir Tribe to make his home with my daughter in the Oak Tribe. But it was not merely for their lives. Adam, your father made that courageous choice for his future child, so that he or she may be blessed by Arceus with the greatest opportunities. He was thinking about you before you were even born."

"I don't understand," Pierce confessed. "Why did it matter where Adam's parents ended up?"

"Ah, now that is a good question," the Lady noted. "You see, there was not much for Aaron and Deborah in the Fir Tribe, for Aaron was of low status there. But not only was my Deborah the daughter of a chief, my late husband. She was more importantly the daughter of the Oak Tribe chief."

"Grandmother…" Adam protested. "Please…"

"I know you are not comfortable with hearing her name, Adam," his grandmother acknowledged, "but she is my daughter and I shall sing it proudly."

"My apologies for interrupting again, Lady Oak," Pierce inputted, "but what makes the Oak Tribe so special?"

"You see, young man, after the Great War, when our savior Arceus was summoned by the Hero of Light to cast away the Shadows of evil, the surviving humans rebuilt society into a congregation of tribes, with our Lord selecting the Hero's descendants as the leading tribe."

"I know," Adam groaned, "it sounds silly."

"Wait," Pierce added, ignoring his friend's cynicism, "so would that make the Oak Tribe descendants of the Hero?"

"Yes, indeed," Lady Oak replied gracefully.

"That's so interesting. Does that come with anything?"

"Sure," Adam snorted. "My grandmother has the ability to manipulate people with captivating folktales while I own the skill of being immune to it."

"Adam, show some respect for your grandmother," Pierce barked.

"It's quite alright," the old woman remarked. "The Oak Tribe primarily is responsible for leading the other tribes to tranquility and mutual respect. However, it is said that each chief is a direct descendant of the Hero of Light, and thus each Oak chief has been blessed by his power." Adam rolled his eyes as Pierce listened in awe. "This power has been said to have passed down to the first male of every generation…but to my initial shame, I became barren after giving birth to Deborah. Fortunately I married a strong man in my husband, who made a historical choice for our community when he instilled his gift unto my Deborah, the first female heir to the power of the Hero."

"So what?" Adam retorted disdainfully.

"My boy, I later realized that I was meant to become barren. Were it not, Deborah would never had succeeded the lineage after your grandfather's passing…and I do not exaggerate nor do the elders when we say that she displayed the noblest traits of the Hero."

"That's good for her," Adam murmured. "But I'm not her and you shouldn't expect so much of me."

"I would never, my boy. It would not be fair to you. But there is so much of your mother in you that you cannot see. After all, your mother was not noble for being traditional. She used her role to serve as an ambassador for all the tribes, going so far as to bestow the role of chief to me so she could make more time for them. She often engaged with the newcomers of the island to keep the peace between us. And she wanted to raise you in a modern setting so that you could one day unite both worlds better than anyone before you. For all her honorable qualities, Adam, your mother was quite the rebel. Does that not sound familiar?"

"I wouldn't know," Adam countered. "I was pretty young when she died."

"So if I'm following along correctly," Pierce butted in, "Adam…are you…gifted?"

Adam snorted, "I think my only gift is my endless capacity for not caring."

"For now, my boy," Lady Oak voiced ominously, "but the time will come for you to realize your potential, like your mother saw hers. Before her untimely passing, your mother was able to instill the power of the lineage unto you. All that requires of you is to tap into it."

"Well it's not like she's around to show me the way," the young native sassed. "And my unbearable father isn't much help."

The Lady took one last sip of her soup. "I am not blind to your ways, my boy. I see that you are different from all the members of every tribe. But what you must learn is to accept your ancient culture and embrace it—not by abandoning the culture you have adapted to, but by merging them into something that could connect you to both worlds. And what your father needs to learn is to accept the differences you possess from the tribe—not as a harm to your potential, but as a means to do something unprecedented with your gift. Only by resolving these issues can the two of you co-exist without the need for your mother to balance you."

Unable to prolong this debate, Adam sighed. "I guess…" but he didn't finish his sentence. He didn't know what else to say.

"I don't get it, Adam," Pierce shot. "If I had that kind of power, I'd jump at the chance to use it."

"It's all mythical," the boy scorned. "Get your head out of the clouds, Pierce."

"Hey, I'm not really a believer in all that Hero stuff, but that's not what I'm talking about." Pierce explained, "I'm talking about political power. This tribe and all the others are your birthright, Adam. You can shape this island how you want it and people will listen to you."

Adam, who had always been uncomfortable when the subject of his tradition came up with his friends, merely shrugged. "Whatever. Power isn't everything, Pierce."

Pierce aggressively slammed his fist on the rug, spilling his broth all over it. Lady Oak, bearing the patience of a saint, made no sign of disapproval over the mess.

"Power is everything, you idiot!" Pierce exploded. "Power is these rich egomaniacs owning most of the island's territory and resources! Power is the deforestation problem that's moving the tribes into reservations and threatening their way of life! And power is the reason I've slept the last three nights on top of a damn dumpster! Because power threw my father in prison! And power sent my mother spiraling into drug addiction! POWER TOOK MY HOME AWAY FROM ME, ADAM! The power of the merciless and corrupt! How dare you toss it away!"

The angry teen breathed heavily, giving Adam a chance to speak up. "Pierce, calm down. You—"

"This just proves that nobody understands power except those who control it and those who are hit hardest by it," he snarled under his breath. "So if there's no deity or fairy godmother or other creature that wants to give me a fitting destiny, I'll just make my own! And nothing will stop me from realizing it! …and I've decided to be destined for power—enough power to change my world!...But I won't find it here, on this dump. That's why I need to leave!"

Lady Oak, still conveying the same countenance since Pierce spilled his soup, waited to make certain that the troubled youth was done until she spoke up. "Pierce…" she called his first name for the first time since they have known each other, "what you described was not power…this—what you speak of—is greed…bitterness…and vengeance."

Shamed by the woman over the way he reacted, Pierce stared down heavily, past the floor, into nothingness, instantaneously worn down by the person whom he admired the most.

Lady Oak added, "True power is the ability to accept the faults of everyone, including your own, and contributing your talents to improving the situation, not the people involved in it. People come in all shapes and colors, young man, which is one of the most magnificent marvels the world has to offer. It is indeed quite a powerful thing to move past the issues that hold you back from happiness and to dedicate your life to laughter and joy—for yourself and for everyone connected to you." Lady Oak chuckled. "Deborah was a splendid example of such an achievement."

Adam, left speechless by two of the closest people in his own life, decided there was purely nothing left to say, except, "Thank you for your hospitality, Grandmother." He rose to his feet. "I should really be going now."

"My dear boy, have you forgotten so soon?" Lady Oak reminded her grandson as she also rose. "I invited you here for a reason."

She slowly walked to her dresser on the other side of the hut and opened the first drawer. When she returned, a shiny necklace with a round, opaque stone was wrapped around her hand. "This pendant," she informed Adam with a trembling arm, "was worn by your mother every Sunday morning during Ceremony. I passed it down to her from my own tribe…I now pass it down to you, so that you may wear it for today." Adam looked away and refused to accept the gift. "Adam, I would like for you to wear it when you visit your mother's tomb. 'Tis the seventh anniversary—"

"Of her death, Grandmother. I know. There's no reason to celebrate that."

"It is not a celebration, my boy. It is a time of reflection. It reminds us of a loved one who was taken from us, but also makes us think how we have each grown since then. And I think that pendant will show your mother the caring and passionate young man you have become."

Adam stared at the trinket, flashbacks of his mother wearing it suddenly flooding his mind, every week, every Sunday. "I dunno, Grandmother…"

Before she can further attempt to convince him, a man from the tribe came in the hut in a state of panic. "Lady Oak!" he exclaimed, "Poca has gone into labor unexpectedly! We require your wisdom to see to a healthy birth."

"I understand," Lady Oak affirmed. She turned to Adam. "Do you understand, my boy?" she reached her arm out, the pendant hanging by a finger.

Succumbing to his grandmother's wishes, Adam avowed, "I understand, Grandmother." He grabbed the pendant, allowing his grandmother, after one last hug, to exit the hut so she could tend to the matters of the village.

Pierce finally got on his feet, his bowl in hand. "I'm gonna clean up this mess," he said. "You go on without me, buddy."

Adam nodded. He grabbed his shoes, strapped his skateboard on his back, and marched out of the hut. While strolling down the hill, the sky already transitioning to red, the blades of grass rustling in the strengthening wind, the boy spoke solemnly to himself. "I understand, alright…I understand that no one understands." Adam gripped the skateboard from his back and rode it down the hill and back into the downtown region. But instead of making a right turn to his mother's grave, he made a left, seemingly on his way to Cranford Manor.

==:==:==:==:==

At the summit of Pokémon Island's lifeless volcano, a peculiar figure with hair like fire emerged from the shadows, squinting as he took in the sights. "This place is a dump," he concluded, before turning on his earpiece. "Commander 01 speaking. I've landed on site." No answer. "Commander 01 speaking. Do you copy?" Once he realized he was all alone, the man's brooding face grew corrupted with a devilish grin, a frightening expression that could easily scare a child.

"Well, well…Pokémon Island," he observed with a sickening sense of joy, "it looks like I have you all to myself."

2. The End of Normalcy, Part 2​

It's nice to see the meadow untouched, Adam sourly noted to himself.

Even though the aristocrats of Pokémon Island settled here recently, they had taken the land for themselves and done away with a massive portion. At the very least, they had preserved some of the terrain, the meadow serving as a famous example.

Adam stopped his trusty board in front of a field of daisies. After carefully observing the flowers, he pulled out the healthiest dozen of the bunch and continued towards his destination, the shadows from the neighboring trees expanding under the approaching nightfall. Eventually the boy arrived at the front gates of Cranford Manor. But just as he was about to ring the bell, he peered through the gate and witnessed a girl and boy locked in each other's arms, engaged in a tender kiss beside a black limousine.

"That's the limo from before, at the diner," Adam postulated. "They must be dropping Maya off …humph, I guess Damian tagged along." The disgusted lad rested his face against the cold, platinum gate in order to listen in.

"Thanks for coming, Damian," Maya said politely. "It was a fun time."

Her beau was dressed head to toe in white, donning a polo, pair of shorts, and loafers fit for a yacht party. His golden brown hair was perfectly combed to the side. "Thank you, Cranberry," he answered cutely. "I am always happy to spend the day with you…In fact, if your parents are not home—"

"That's probably not a good idea," Maya nervously interrupted. "But we're still on for the beach tomorrow?"

The girl, to her surprise, was suddenly grabbed by the blueblood and received a forceful smooch. "Of course, doll. Until tomorrow."

"She's trying to kick you out, Damian, so how about you take the hint?!" a girl yelled from inside the limo. Adam matched the shrilly voice with the girl who walked into the diner earlier that day. "Now get your flat butt inside! I can't miss Pilates!"

The young man sighed and courteously pecked his girlfriend's hand, ending with a bow. "I'll miss you, doll," he added as while climbing into the limo, Maya waving goodbye as it drove to the gate. Adam quickly snuck to the side as the gates parted open. The car cruised out of the manor, slowly enough so that when it passed by Adam, he could see Damian at the arms of Maya's friend, tearing each other's clothes off like savages right before the windows tinted.

"They didn't even see me," Adam mused.

Maya took a deep breath once her rich friends had departed, but before she could turn to her home, her face froze when she saw Adam come out of hiding. The two of them looked into each other's eyes, the former's pair expressing delight, the latter's restricted with grief.

"Adam," Maya started, "w-what are you doing here?"

The boy grabbed his board and casually strolled into the secluded estate, narrowing the distance between the two teens. At last he stood only a couple of feet away from the beloved girl, who was still wearing the scarf that Adam rescued for her mere hours ago. The sprinklers unexpectedly turned on, showering the rich garden of beautiful and rare florae. Just as Maya was about to speak up again, Adam revealed the light bouquet of daisies he had been concealing the entire time.

Maya blushed. "Adam! They're beautiful! Thank you."

"It's nothing," the lad insisted. "I was riding around here and found them. I know they're your favorite."

"They are! Umm, I should put these in a vase. You wanna come inside?"

"Well I've got nothing better to do." Adam followed the girl to her luxurious mansion, passing by the cherry blossoms swaying hypnotically under the control of the comforting breeze. The duo arrived in front of the three-story house, stretching several yards across in length, its crystal glass windows shimmering under the setting sun. Maya unlocked the front door embroidered in flurries of gold, and Adam nervously trailed behind. As close as he was with Maya, her lifestyle always made him uncomfortable.

I shouldn't be here, he pondered, his father and mother's grave flooding his thoughts. But I want to be here.

After placing the flowers in a vase, the longtime friends retreated to Maya's room for a casual conversation. Maya's room had barely been touched since she moved to Pokémon Island eight years ago, which is why it still looked as if a little girl stayed here. The walls and ceiling were coated with salmon and carnation paint, respectively. A rainbow was etched over the dashboard, and stuffed animals swarmed the corners like a fluffy coup d'état.

Maya turned to her friend. "What do you want to do?"

Adam stared boldly at the girl's queen-sized bed, covered with a silk-woven, white blanket with roses patterned on it, and a couple of down pillows fluffed to perfection. He knew fully well what he wanted to do there.

"Oh, is that what you want?" Maya inquired.

"What?" Adam turned to face her, embarrassed at the thought of her reading his debauched, teenaged mind. "Maya…what are you saying?"

"Well," she intoned, "it would be a lot of fun." She grabbed Adam's hand, and the boy's heart was immediately pounding vigorously against his chest. "Come on."

Adam placed his other hand on her soft, milky skin. "Maya, wait…Are you sure you wanna do this?"

"Yes," she answered bubbly. "I really am." She broke away from the nervous teen to take off her cream-colored slippers.

I'm going through with this, Adam coached himself while kicking off his shoes and unzipping his hoodie.

"You know, I haven't done this since I was a little girl," Maya disclosed.

"Wait, what???" the boy piped just as he was going to take off his T-shirt.

The socialite climbed aboard her bed and began bouncing up and down. "Come on! Don't let me do this alone, haha!"

A dejected Adam sighed and repressed his primitive urges, a sense of defeat looming over his head.

"It's your funeral, lightweight," he ultimately quipped before hopping onto the bed, his mass almost launching the poor girl through the ceiling.

The two of them bounced on the bed for what felt like an endless amount of time, which was followed by playing hide and seek all over the mansion, pranking the prissy butler, and sharing a couple of chocolate malts (courtesy of the chef) back in Maya's room, the girl lying on her bed and her friend sitting on a constructed pile of stuffed animals.

"Adam," Maya, who was wearing a feather boa around her neck and neon green sunglasses on her messy peach hair, started, "do you ever think about marriage?"

Adam, who was wearing a cobalt bowtie around his neck and a sailor's cap that was flattening his chestnut spikes, answered, "I try not to. But my father keeps forcing this girl on me."

"The one from the Cedar Tribe? I thought he let that go."

"He brought it back up when he realized I stopped reading," he sourly explained. "I met with her one time! And now he's convinced the Deity wants us together."

Maya giggled. "That's so sweet. When's the date? Are you registering?"

Adam playfully tossed an elephant at the girl to shut her up. "Keep dreaming! But my sixteenth birthday is around the corner, and according to tradition I'm supposed to be engaged by then. What a load of crap, right?"

"I guess…" Maya mumbled, her facing bearing solemnity. "Well, I think I'm gonna marry Damian someday."

Adam almost fell over his hill of animals. "What? How can you be so sure?"

"I dunno," the girl commented. "He's a good guy."

"He calls you Cranberry," Adam chided. "That's not even remotely cute."

Maya chuckled. "True. But he cares about me. Doesn't he?"

"I wouldn't know, Maya," Adam told her, but he knew fully well — from what he saw in the departing limo and from other instances — that Damian's attention was divided, at best.

"My parents are always praising him," she added. "And they're completely for it."

"You brought it up to them?" Adam questioned.

"No, this was their idea. They seem pretty adamant about it."

"Maya," the brown-haired lad began, "do you even want to get married to Damian?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted. "I'll probably warm up to the idea, maybe. Besides, I could do worse than Damian."

"You can do better, too, don't you think?"

The girl sat up on her bed and bit her lip. "Sorry—I mean, my apologies," she sputtered while shifting from her bed to her mirror, where she grabbed a brush to fix her bedhead. "I should not have brought this up. It was a silly topic to be discussed between two friends."

Adam stared at Maya, and, for one of the first times in all the years he had known her, he could not shake this feeling of disappointment. There she sat, in front of a mirror, grooming herself to perfection. But the tragedy of it all was what the little rich girl had failed to see: she would never amount to perfection. And she would have to spend the rest of her life chipping away at her spirit to remain a social commodity in the eyes of the other elites.

The tribal descendent could no longer bear this truth and broke his silence. "Maya, when are you, me, and Pierce gonna go on the trip?"

Maya paused her brushing for a moment, the question fraying her nerves, but she politely answered, "Adam, can we talk about that some other time? I am absolutely exhausted."

The boy harshly asserted, "If you don't wanna do it anymore, then just say it."

Maya put down her brush and turned to her friend. She took a deep breath before declaring, "We were just kids."

"We're still kids!" Adam claimed. "And we're not gonna be young forever, Maya."

"I know that, Adam."

"So maybe," Adam gibed, "you should start acting your age, instead of your mother's."

Maya rose from her seat, accidentally knocking over her stool without bothering to pick it back up. "That's easy for you to say!" the girl sneered. "You whine about how much your life sucks and the way your dad treats you but you don't even do anything about it; you don't do anything, period! Some of us don't have that luxury, Adam, because we have to grow up. How about you join us?"

Adam also stood up, his blood pressure spiking. "I can't believe you just accused me of having luxury! You, the girl who has everything.

"That's not what I meant," Maya growled.

"Yeah, you got me. I don't have much of a future. Maybe that's why I prefer to look back so much. I liked who we were back then, and I don't like what we're becoming now."

"I know, Adam," the socialite divulged. "Things keep changing, and believe me when I say that I'm not always thrilled about it."

"So why not resist?" Adam pestered.

"Adam…what can I do? This is my path…I either move forward or I stay put. And if I stay put, well time certainly won't."

"But this isn't the path you want. It's the one your mother and father are deciding for you. The harp lessons, the gossip girls, the constant manicures, eyebrow waxing, and shopping sprees…Maya, this isn't who you were when you moved to Pokémon Island. And I'm sorry if this offends you, but it's not who you are now. Why can't you just be you?"

Maya was left speechless. She grabbed the fallen stool and took a seat at the foot of the bed, twiddling her fingers until she thought of a calm response. "Even if what you are saying is true—which I am not implying is the case…they're my parents, Adam. They know what is best for me…and I would never want to disappoint them."

Adam plopped himself right next to his friend. "You mean," he corrected, "you don't want to end up a disappointment like me."

"No," Maya reassured, "that's not true and you know it."

"Except I know it is true," the rebellious youth insisted. "I don't read scripture, I don't attend weekly ritual. I don't even follow the tribesman diet. I'm the personification of what my father didn't want me to become." He stared coldly at Maya. "I am my father's biggest failure."

Maya rubbed her hand on Adam's arm, the boy instinctively wrapping his fingers around hers. He pretended like he hadn't noticed, though truthfully his heart was racing and his rage was cooling.

The young beauty whispered, "I think you're wrong. I think your father loves you more than you could imagine."

The troubled boy could barely focus. This maiden's gentle touch had somehow soothed his entire body and spirit. He found that he had lost himself entirely in her enchanting beauty and solace, praying to stay like this with her forever…even when Maya's lips leaned onto his own.

But the intimacy of it all became too real for Adam, and it automatically made him so excruciatingly uncomfortable that he yanked himself away from Maya and searched through the pile of stuffed animals for his hoodie.

"Adam…" the flustered girl caught her breath to say. "Umm, are you leaving?"

The boy responded, "Maya, if my father didn't consider me a disappointment yet, he probably will after today."

"Wait, why is that?" Maya queried confusedly. "Adam, what are you saying?"

He gulped nervously. "I was supposed to visit my mother's grave with him earlier, Maya. Today makes seven years since…you know."

"W-what do you mean you were supposed to? I-I don't understand," Maya stammered.

"It's not that hard to get," Adam shot. "I ditched my father and dead mother to spend the day with you. No big deal. Thanks for keeping me preoccupied, by the way."

"You…you…"

"Yeah," Adam went on. "You know how I hate that stuff. Seriously, today was fun. Let's do this again sometime, okay?"

Maya stared at the mirror, her cheeks still bright red from her previous arousal, and she shuddered with embarrassment. "You're sick and twisted," she muttered underneath her breath.

"Gee, thanks," Adam retorted, laughing it off as a joke.

Maya flung her dresser open and tossed out some sweats. "I'm going for an evening jog," she announced before glaring menacingly at the boy. "You should leave now, Adam. Do me a favor and don't talk to me for a while."

==:==:==:==:==

Adam zipped through downtown Pokémon Island, frustrated with how he had to leave Maya. "I'm such an idiot!" he exclaimed. "I let her get too close to me. And if she were to fall for me, it would ruin her life. I just can't let that happen!"

Adam kick-flipped high into the air and grinded expertly on a bench, a trick he could only attempt at night when the streets were mostly empty. He landed without any difficulty and sped along like the bench was never there to begin with. A couple of townies from across the street cheered the boy on, but he didn't hear either of them. Instead he kept on riding, traversing the town for what felt like hours to him, even after the sun set. Knowing he could not return home to his father, the boy eventually made his second stop at Lou's that day.

The hostess addressed Adam, "Can I hel—?"

"I just need a seat," the teen sharply interrupted as he brushed past the poor girl, claiming a booth for himself. He looked out the window, just like he did earlier on his lunch date with Maya, except this time he could only see his reflection. Adam snorted and turned away, disappointed with the shameful view.

==:==:==:==:==

In the silent woods, Maya paced herself evenly after roughly a mile of running before coming to a halt against a fully grown ash in a small, open field. A couple of canaries chirped excitedly at her sudden presence, which almost spooked the wheezy girl. After taking a sip of water, she checked her pedometer and crossed her fingers, but the number left her disappointed.

"It keeps getting worse," Maya said aloud to herself. She would run a little more, too, if she wasn't worried she'd collapse. Accepting her defeat, the girl reached into her back pocket but stopped midway after noticing the canaries peering nosily.

"Please," Maya begged to them. "Don't judge me." The heiress took out a cigarette from her box and lit it nervously, sucking on its tip until she submitted to its addicting allure and let out the most comforting exhalation she had felt in days.

Maya eyed birds singing away until they stopped out of the blue, scanned the perimeter, and hurriedly flew away.

"I wish I could do that," Maya avowed hopelessly.

"Oo-ooh a-aah!" a mysterious creature cried within the bushes across the field.

"What was that?" Maya wondered as she turned around, her eyes bulging with alarm with what crept out into the open. "W-what…what are you?"

==:==:==:==:==

"Thank you," Adam replied to the waitress who brought him his tea. He took a nice, long sip of his beverage, feeling relaxed for the first time all day. But when he put the cup down, he saw a man had sat down across from him.

"I hope you thanked the waitress for that," the man intoned.

"I always do," Adam spat. "You don't have to remind me."

"No. No," the man curtly replied, rubbing the deep folds of his temple. Adam took a quick glance at his dark brown, spiky hair, streaked with gray on the sides. "I suppose not…but evidently you have to be reminded of other things."

Adam glared. "How did you know I was here?"

"You don't think I checked here earlier, son, and asked the staff to keep an eye out for you?" the man whispered. "By the way, I heard about the bowl of wings you had today — on Meatless Monday — and we will most certainly discuss that after."

"After what?"

"Do not play stupid with me," the man quietly threatened. "It is one thing to disrespect me, but I never thought I would see the day where you disrespect your own mother!"

Adam surveyed the diner, concerned that this domestic dispute might have caught some unwanted attention. "Father, this isn't the best place to lose your cool."

"You're absolutely right," Adam's dad, Aaron, agreed. "It's time we got home. You have a lot of explaining to do when we get there."

Adam sassed, "I'm not going anywhere. You can wait for me at home if you'd like, but you might have to stay up past your bedtime."

"Adam, I am not afraid to lecture you in public. Do not make me do something I don't want to do."

"Oh, really?!" Adam shouted, banging his fist on the table and silencing the diner entirely. "Because you always make me do things that I don't want to do." Aaron's face began to boil. "But go ahead! Lecture me! That's all you ever do these days!"

"Do not for a second turn this around on me," Aaron voiced as he rose over his son. "How dare you skip out on visiting your mother's grave! On the anniversary of her death! Without even the slightest of guilt!"

An elderly couple gasped at the accusations made.

"I can visit her whenever I want to! I can even visit her tomorrow!" Adam defended himself to his father, along with everyone else and including his self. "In fact, maybe that's what was I planning on doing! How would you know?!"

"Well you should have visited today!" Aaron scolded. "Seven years, Adam! Does that mean nothing to you?!"

"It's just a number, Father!"

Aaron exited the booth and headed for the door. "That's enough, son. We have given these nice folks enough of a show." He addressed the folks. "I apologize, everyone, for my behavior and the behavior of my son's. We will leave you at peace. Adam, let's finish this discussion at home."

"No."

The gray-haired man froze at the blatant defiance of his son. "Adam of Oak Fir, get over here now!"

"Forget it," Adam snarled. "I'm done listening to you, Aaron."

His father walked up to him and lifted his enormous hand. The boy, along with the crowd, was expecting a furious strike, but he was met with a fatherly pat on the shoulder. "Just level with me, son. Please, communicate with me. Tell me why. Why would you do this?"

"Yeah, now you wanna—"

"ADAM!"

The entire diner was facing the two of them, awaiting an answer. But to his discontent, Aaron was met with silence and a cold shoulder from his son.

"Adam…" the man muttered. "Your mother would be very disappointed in you." Once again, he walked away.

But little did he know that his last words struck Adam like a dagger to the chest, and the poor boy could no longer bottle all the frustration that has held him back all these years. "Why did she die?" he asked himself quietly.

"What was that?" Aaron queried.

"WHY DID SHE DIE?!"

The people looked around with discomfort.

"Why did she die, father?!"

"Adam…" Aaron was left speechless.

"If she cared about me, she would still be alive!" Tears dropped like bullets.

"…that's not true."

"She was fine! And then out of nowhere she gets ill and dies?! And you want me to pray for her?!"

"I-I'm sorry you feel that way." Aaron tried to brush his arm on Adam's shoulder again but he violently shoved him away.

"Stop it! I'm sick and tired of all your crap! …You're not my father anymore." The troubled boy dashed out of the diner, leaving behind a sea of murmuring customers and an absolutely heartbroken dad.

==:==:==:==:==

An emotionally drained Adam fled on his board out of the city and into the forest with no particular direction in mind, escape serving as his only objective.

"I can never go back there!" the teen shouted to the trees while wiping his tears. "There's no life for me in this dump." Adam tripped harshly on a root, but instead of crying in pain he lifted himself from the ground and sat there with is thoughts.

"Pierce!" he stated. "He was right; the only people worth keeping around are the ones who'll accept you at your worst." Adam began picking at the grass one blade at a time, mechanically shredding them with his fingers. "Maya must still hate me for what happened to her earlier. Grandmother will surely feel the same once she learns about what I did tonight."

Adam stood up and prepared to return to the downtown district. "Pierce is the only one who has ever accepted me. If there's a time for us to leave the island, it's now!" he yelled to the trees. He was met with silence.

"I mean, there's nothing left for us here." Still silence. "Is there?" The boy's face was swept with a light gust. Once again he sat dejectedly on the grass.

"Even if we wanted to right now," Adam confessed, "Pierce and I don't have the means to leave. Besides, there's not much of a chance he'd leave without Maya."

Adam looked up at the summer sky, when the stars shone the brightest. It eased him a bit. "And maybe…" he continued to argue with himself, "Maybe Maya will forgive me someday. And it was foolish of me to think Grandmother would hate me. I mean, she wouldn't hate me if I burned the village." That last comment brought out a light chuckle in the boy, and he was happy that he made himself smile without anyone's help.

"Haha, I guess all I needed was some time alone," he reasoned, still chuckling.

And thus, Adam was able to make light of his problems for what they really were. He finally became aware of all the angst he bottled up and silently vowed to become more aware of how his feelings affect the people closest to him. And if it were anybody else, then life would resume normally and lethargically. But Adam is not just another man within the masses. For the ways of the universe work in mysterious ways—spontaneous…like fire.

Adam thought over many things and considered many directions to take from his still position until, finally, he made his decision. "I should go home."

He took one last look at the sky, hoping to suck in its beauty. But his senses became distracted by a peculiar smell. Adam stood up and shut his eyes to hone in on the familiar scent. "Smoke," he deduced. Then, as if nature were guiding him, the clarity of the sky began to diminish with the rise of a thick, ominous smoke originating from a mile away.

Just as Adam was perplexed enough, his body felt a strange pulse. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the pendant his grandmother bestowed to him when he visited earlier, only now it was glowing with an unusual surge of energy, and beating like a human heart.

"How is this…?" Adam wondered. "…mother?" Confused and very scared, he pocketed the trinket once again and analyzed the occurrence of events. "Something is definitely going on. M-maybe I should investigate it." He considered the pendant again. "My grandmother gave it to me, so I think I'm gonna trust this."

The spiky-haired rebel began walking, then running towards the smoke. He did not not travel that far until he started seeing the smoke more clearly and diffracting the moonlight. A few more paces, and the smoke blanketed the trees. Its dark gray fogginess hid the stars, and Adam's lungs were paying the price for it. The tree right behind him spontaneously combusted, and the alarmed youth hopped away before the flames could ensnare him. Sweat dripped from all over his body as the temperature of his surroundings gradually rose. Adam realized he could not go on like this, so he removed his jacket and tied it around his neck to cover his nose and mouth from the poisonous air.

I gotta keep going, Adam thought. Something is horribly wrong and nobody else is around to fix it. He trudged forward, flames continuing to spark around him.

After a treacherous mile, Adam reached a wide open space of the forest surrounded by burning trees and burnt grass. He knelt momentarily to catch his breath, closing his eyes from his fatigue. After enough recovery, he stood up again, this time depciting a mysterious figure lying a few feet from a crisped ash. Adam wiped his soot-covered face to clear his vision, and what lied in front of him sent a shiver down his spine.

"Maya!" he screamed in horror. Adam rushed fearlessly towards the unconscious girl and slid to her side, shaking her vigorously to wake her up. "It's no use!" he howled, tears accumulating in his eyes. But then, the boy remembered his training in school. He checked for her pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief when he found one.

"Okay, I just have to give her mouth-to-mouth," Adam recalled. He dropped his board beside the girl and stared at her soot-covered face. Adam hesitated. He knew he was certified to perform CPR, but he never thought he would have to use it, especially on a girl he cared so much for. And what about her parents? And Damian? Would they approve of him doing this?

"Come on, I'm being childish!" the boy told himself. Still trembling, he leaned onto her, pinched her nose, and brought his mouth on top of hers.

BOOSH!

A flame shot over his head and struck the already charred ash. Frightened from the near-death assault, Adam cocked his head to discover its source. In the middle of the open field, an orange chimpanzee on all fours growled menacingly at him, its sharp fangs exposed.

"Oo-ooh a-aah!" the chimp cried.

Adam's eyes bulged wide open. Never before had he seen such a mysterious creature. A swirl of red fur sat on its head, which almost made it cute. But what struck fear into the boy was the tiny flame lit on its lower back, and the dark aura emanating from it.

Adam slowly lifted himself and slyly crept away from Maya's body, not once shifting his gaze from the creature as the two stared each other down like predator and prey. The chimp continued to growl under its fangs but that didn't stop the boy from looking away. But then, the pendant began to pulse so aggressively that it distracted him from everything else.

"Oo-ooh a-aah!" the chimp screeched, pounding its midsection before lunging itself at its target.

Adam hopped to the side, almost tripping on himself. The creature shot another flame at him but he managed to somersault in time and evade the attack. Adam turned to his otherworldly foe, who was now jumping from tree to tree and shrieking more and more aggressively.

"Eeek! Eeek!" Adam heard the cry from behind and nervously ducked just as the creature clawed the air right over his head and landed unbalanced a few feet way.

"Now's my chance!" Adam roared as he dashed towards his enemy, but the creature's building rage sparked the unusual energy from its tail to create a force field that flung the boy away. The teen momentarily winced in pain until he noticed the creature doing the same. It was clearly suffering in that force field. Its flaming tail grew taller, and the nighttime winds picked it up and scattered it to the neighboring trees, thus spreading the fire.

"I gotta take that fire out!" Adam concluded. He ran desperately back to Maya, searching through her belongings. "Come on, come on, nobody jogs without water." Soon he got his hands on something, his face beaming. "I found it!" But when he saw what he truly found, Adam was puzzled and disappointed when it was a box of cigarettes. "How did it…who was…?"

"Oo-ooh a-aah!"

Adam saw that the creature was running towards him again. In a moment of panic, he chucked the box of cigarettes at it, which it responded by shredding the box with its claws. But the chemicals of the cigarettes fell on its snout, causing the creature to roll back and forth from its irritation.

"Found it!" Adam rejoiced over the water. "Now I just gotta—"

But the frightened teen soon realized that he would not be able to douse the agile creature easily, especially since it was charging at him again.

"I'm sick of you already!" the boy exclaimed, impulsively reaching for his board and slapping the chimp with all his might.

"Eeek!" the creature howled in pain as it was sent crashing to the ground. Thinking on his feet, Adam stabbed the bottle in his hand with his board, which sent the water shooting over the air. A large portion of it was able to land on the fire tail, further harming it.

Adam took this opportunity to charge himself at the creature, but the closer he got to it, the clearer it became to him that the chimp's fire was building once more, and, despite its evident injuries, it rose again with seemingly more power and ambition than before.

I have to stop right now! Adam thought, but his feet were already in motion. The creature leapt high into the air, above the smoke. But before Adam could spot it, the creature fell towards the boy and clawed forcefully at him, scratching a deep wound onto his arm.

"Gaah!" Adam shrilled, putting pressure on his suffering limb and eyeing the unstoppable monster who was returning for more.

It lunged, he stepped aside.

It clawed, he dodged.

Flames blasted, he rolled. But the throbbing pain from his injury was gradually tiring the boy.

I'm done for. I should just give up already. Let someone else deal with this freak of nature. Someone else will notice what's going on. And it'll be their problem. I can still run away.

But Adam knew he couldn't. Not with the knowledge that Maya's life rested in his hands.

"Maya!" the boy burst out. Once again he narrowly dodged a lunge from his enemy and used the momentum to run towards the girl, tripping just before suffering a death from another flame. Adam shakily reached for his coat and wrapped it tightly around his injured arm to suppress the pain. "I just gotta wait for the right opportunity," he suggested, encouraging himself, "before I knock him out, just like with any of the kids in town."

The creature once again resorted to hiding in the trees. Adam used every bit of focus and once again dodged its sneak attack. The creature continued to lunge at Adam, who was grateful to duck every single one of them, hoping and praying for his chance.

At last, Adam got what he wished for when the chimp leapt over him and bore his claws.

"Eat my board!" Adam taunted, blocking the attack with his skateboard and hooking the foe with his fist.

The creature fell back a couple of feet, but sadly it was Adam who was suffering the greater pain, his hand throbbing from the failed assault. He fell to the ground in complete agony, his pendant slipping out from his pocket, still glowing and pulsing immensely.

"Oo-ooh a-aah!" the chimp barked assertively, once again pounding its chest.

"Yeah, yeah! Oo-ooh whatever to you, too!" Adam remarked disdainfully, half-accepting his untimely demise.

"Eeek!" the creature sprung itself at the boy, aiming for the kill shot.

The proximity of death was too much for Adam to handle. He could no longer contain his tears.

"Just die already!" the boy snapped, grabbing his radiant pendant from the ground and swinging it towards the chimp.

The creature reached its bloody claws for Adam's neck, but it was intercepted by the pendant, which immediately initiated a reaction. Adam's eyes widened as the pendant stopped throbbing and started charging, the creature watching in horror.

A blinding light surrounded the scene, and then a sonic blast hurled the two adversaries across the field.

Adam moaned in pain, taking quick and uneasy breaths to get his strength back. But the damage was done, and his body slowly shut down, his eyes fluttering, resisting the urge, yet unwaveringly quitting on him. His vision faded to black.

Alright, after a bit of a delay, here's the review! And since the description said in-depth, I'm holding nothing back, haha.

Prologue:

"Game over!" his driven adversary roared.

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I don't like, "driven" here. It's a bit out of place since it's telling the reader instead of showing. You can show the reader that the adversary is driven through his relentless assault, not by simply telling us he is.

Adam took in his surroundings. The sun casted its gleaming light over the tranquil beach bordering crystal clear waters, where not a single wave crashed onto the pearlescent shore, its sand whiter than ivory, and softer than cotton. He rubbed his chestnut brown follicles with his tanned little fingers while pondering his next move.

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Whoa, take it easy there. The description is nice and all, but it does nothing besides sit there and look pretty. It doesn't push the plot along, and it's not really relevant either. A quick description can still be here to set up the surroundings, but this is a bit of an overload.

After parting from his closest friend at a time nearing sunset, Adam—shivering from his wet trousers—returned to his home, a petite yet welcoming residence located in a private section of island. After cautiously sneaking into the front door, he tiptoed slyly into the living room, his bedroom within reach, when the lights flickered on.

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I feel like this went by too quickly. I think the entire scene as a whole could be improved by this paragraph. Playing this as a very tense situation could keep the reader reading, wondering if he's going to get caught. Therefore, setting up the emotion for the following argument. Plus, this is an extreme run-on sentence.

Thank the heavens our Deity answered my call.

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"Deity" sounds really weird to me. It's a really formal word for God, and in such a casual setting, it instantly feels out of place. I found it odd that they didn't simply refer to their deity by name, since there's not really a reason not to, or at least we aren't given one.

"I understand, Deborah," Aaron affirmed, his arms still crossed, "but come on! He is already eight years old. And if he is ever to be your successor to the Oak lineage, then he needs to be showing adequate signs of responsibility by now." He stared at the bathroom door and solemnly admit, "I don't want my only child to live a life of regret because he failed to realize his destiny."

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I'll be honest, this made me cringe a little. Don't tell us he's the direct line to the Oak lineage with a great destiny in front of him, let the story show us that. Plus the dialogue feels extremely scripted here, and it makes Aaron look a bit fake.

The path our Deity has chosen for Adam will be revealed to him, and only to him, when the time is right. Relax!"

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Again with the word, "deity".

Aaron finally shrugged the argument off with a heavy sigh of defeat, kissed his loving wife on the lips, and strolled into their bedroom. "I knew I married the smartest woman in the island,"

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The last bit felt scripted as well. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the expression used just feels... wrong. I don't know, I'm not much help with this instance, haha.

"Oh, my dear Adam," Deborah whispered to herself. "I know the Deity has incredible plans for you…I hope I am there to see them to come to fruition."

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"Diety" once again. Although, now that I've read through what you have, the foreshadowing here is very nice.

At the summit of that volcano, a shadowy man shrouded from head to toe in a dark aura scouted the foreign island from his towering view. His entire body was silhouetted by a foreboding energy that permeated his being, all except for a hint of white originating from a smile at the corner of his crooked mouth.

"At last…" he roared, his aura enshrouding the vicinity like a cancer, triggering his arms to tremble under its influence. "My power…my destiny…I have found you."

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I don't know what this is doing here. I get the feeling that you're writing a story that wants to be taken seriously, and you're doing a pretty good job at it, but this just pushes it over into Saturday morning cartoon territory.

Chapter 1:

The streets were crowded on one vibrant summer day,

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This is something I see often with writers. This right here is telling, meanwhile, everything after this is showing. What you're doing is telling us what's happening, and then showing us it all, like you have to prove it or something. The first sentence is actually setting up the rest of the paragraph for failure since everything that comes after this is redundant and has already been stated. Removing the first couple sentences usually gets rid of this problem, and that's exactly what you should do here to the sentence I have quoted.

A couple of rowdy children ran across the road, their father frantically chasing after them with a smoothie in one hand and a shopping bag in the other. A sweaty trucker abruptly braked in front of them, luckily avoiding a vehicular manslaughter case, and shook his fist angrily at the brats. In short, downtown Pokémon Island was hustling and bustling like it always did at noon.

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I'm not sure what this is doing here. It seems like more of a movie opening than a book, since this isn't really moving the plot forward, and movies do the classic overview of the street thing to get the audience to know the setting. Which, books don't really have to do most of the time. Books get the setting across through the main characters interacting with the world. Of course, a little description is perfect, but don't go overboard and create a ministory about a dad trying to keep his kids from running off.

He twisted his white, open-gloved hands to relax his weary wrists until the ringing of the salon's door opening caused him to fix his gaze on the young girl in a salmon mini-dress who came outside.

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I'm really confused about what happens at the beginning of this. Why does he twist his hand to relax it?

Maya smiled, appropriately choosing to take her friend's comment as a compliment.

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"Appropriately" doesn't really need to be here. It's telling us that her interpretation was teh right one, when we can simply see that for ourselves when the conversation goes on normally.

I mean, what's the point of dedicating so much time to some godly Pokémon if Pokémon don't even exist in the first place?"

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Plot twist! I really liked this. It might be indirectly telling, but given that this is a pokemon fanfic, this might be one of the only cases where I'll say that it's a good thing. I was expecting pokemon to already exist and be incorporated in every day life, so this bit of information was good.

The skater stopped in front of the Pokémon Island Municipal Bank, towering above the neighboring stores and restaurants. Years ago, Adam and Maya would play for an entire day, racing through the monkey bars, seesawing, and sometimes just plain talking, and when they finished, they would take a bus to the bank, where Maya would use her allowance to purchase ice cream for Adam and herself. Often Pierce would sneak out of his home and tag along. But the day would always end by watching the sunset from the roof of the three-story building (Maya's father was golf buddies with the owner). And every sunset felt like the last sunset those kids would ever see, which made each time that much more enjoyable.

"Adam, you look bigger every time I see you! I see you've been hitting the gym, boy."

"Not even a little," the teen mused. "I'll have the regular, Sal."

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I had a very hard time following this paragraph. It jumps around way too much without any sort of transitions, and it made it very confusing because I thought Adam was ordering ice cream from a bank, haha.

The ice cream vendor replied, "You want a double-sized banana split for just yourself? Oh, how I miss youth!" He patted his belly with his bear-sized palm to signify his envy.

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If Adam hasn't come here in a while, and it's been forever that he's actually had someone with him here, it seems odd that his regular would be ice cream made for two people.

These days, Maya's popularity had soared since the days she and Adam used to spend on the playground together,

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The use of two "days" in a row kind of interrupts the flow of the sentence. I would recommend rewording it so that it only uses one.

Shocked by such bold opposition, Garrett turned back and saw a tall, muscularly defined teen with glimmering silver hair down to his shoulders and sweeping over his forehead in tufts of daggered spikes, wearing nothing but an unzipped sleeveless jacket, ripped jeans, punching bag gloves, and old sneakers, his toned pecs and chiseled abdomen stealing the focus from everything else. Yet, before anybody could react, the young man whipped out a metal bo staff and, with dexterous movement, swept the weapon under one of Garrett's lackeys, succeeded by a strike to the other's neck and bringing him down with a skull-cracking finish.

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I'm going to be brutally honest here. I was literally laughing so hard at this. I mean, here we have a group of normal people, and all of a sudden, the incarnation of every anime protagonist ever comes strolling in, complete with a metal rod for fighting. I was talking to one of my friends at the time, and I said that all this guy needed was to be homeless and a tragic backstory about how his parents can't raise him, and you've got yourself an anime hero in the making. I'm sorry, but this is a little too cliche for me.

"As you know, the tribes of Pokémon Island practice Meatless Monday as a way to profess our faith to our Deity and show our willingness to sacrifice on His behalf."

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If Pierce already knows this, then why say it again?

"If only Father could be the same way."

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"Father" doesn't need to be capitalized.

Adam scoffed, referring to his father.

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Yes, we know.

"it's as ridiculous and fictitious as it sounds."

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This made me pause for a second, and think that this was a little too rude for the moment. We know that Adam isn't religious, but he doesn't need to proclaim it as fiction to his grandmother, who he respects very much.

Chapter 2:

Her beau was dressed head to toe in white, donning a polo, pair of shorts, and loafers fit for a yacht party. His golden brown hair was perfectly combed to the side, fit for a proper man such as himself.

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Don't use the phrase, "fit for" twice here. It ruins the flow a bit, and is a bit uncomfortable to read.

Just as Maya was about to speak up again, Adam revealed the light bouquet of daisies he had been concealing the entire time.

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Didn't he only pick one?

The socialite climbed aboard her bed and began bouncing up and down. "Come on! Don't let me do this alone, haha!"

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Enough about the negatives for now, this was really good! I had a good laugh at this part, so nice work here.

Adam snorted and turned away, disappointed with the shameful view.

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Another quote I really liked. It captures some of the inner conflict Adam has with himself, and we start seeing Adam as an actual character.

the only people worth keeping around are the ones who'll except you at your worst."

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Accept, not except.

Making a plan is no more difficult than sticking to one.

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Implying that sticking to a plan is easier.

And today would never be forgotten by Adam of Oak Fir. Today marked the first day of the ride of his life, whether or not he was prepared for it.

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This is telling, and not really necessary. I thought he was thinking to himself, and I don't really like how the narration took over for a brief time.

Adam stabbed the bottle in his hand with his board, which sent the water shooting over the air. A large portion of it was able to land on the fire tail, further harming it.

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Wait, how does this work?

The creature fell back a couple of feet, but sadly it was Adam who was suffering the greater pain, his hand crippled from the failed assault.

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What went wrong here that Adam suffered greater damage?

I feel like you're trying too hard. What I mean is that you're using a bunch of complex, varied words, when simpler ones will get the point across much better not only for the audience, but for you as well. Don't be afraid to say, "said" a lot after dialogue. It's one of the only words you can get away with using over and over again, and it's often recommended to keep to it unless it doesn't convey the right message. you're using all of these varied dialogue descriptors, when it's not necessary. There were a few instances with some words that didn't include dialogue, but those are harder to point out. Just remember that it's okay to use simple words. It's just when you start to use them again and again in the same sentence that it becomes an issue.

There were a few instances where you were telling when you should have been showing, but just keep working on it, and you'll improve in no time. You get the concept of showing, and have illustrated that you know how to, so it's only a matter of time.

Enough about the negatives. One thing I see you doing very well in is with character conflict. The way the arguments escalate is very natural, and the cool off time Adam spends by himself after the diner is excellent. It's a real strength that you're playing to in the story, and it's making the plot all the more interesting. People hardly ever mesh seamlessly, and you're making the conflicts drive the relationship, and give each character some serious depth because of it. Keep it up.

As you may have noticed, I caught many more mistakes in the prologue then I did in the second chapter. I feel like you're getting better as you're going along, but I feel like the main reason is that I started to get into the story about that time. I felt invested in the plot, and I really wanted to continue reading without having to quote every little mistake I saw. I was really starting to enjoy it as the chapter came to a close, so just know that your story is definitely interesting.

Overall, I really liked this. The story has a very good twist with the absence of pokemon, and I'm curious to see what you'll do with it. I can't guarantee that I'll read future chapters, but you've done a very nice job here. Good luck with future chapters, and I hope I helped!

Nolafus said:

Alright, after a bit of a delay, here's the review! And since the description said in-depth, I'm holding nothing back, haha.

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And I will take the opportunity now to thank you (months later) for reviewing my story. I haven't been able to make time for fan fiction due to school but I found time during my spring break. And I kept referring to your review for inspiration to write my next chapter, which will come out soon.

Prologue:

I don't like, "driven" here. It's a bit out of place since it's telling the reader instead of showing. You can show the reader that the adversary is driven through his relentless assault, not by simply telling us he is.

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One of my main concerns has always been how much I needed to describe something so that it becomes clear to the reader so I really like getting feedback like this.

Whoa, take it easy there. The description is nice and all, but it does nothing besides sit there and look pretty. It doesn't push the plot along, and it's not really relevant either. A quick description can still be here to set up the surroundings, but this is a bit of an overload.

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Yes, I've always felt like I have to set the scene before I can do anything and I tend to go overboard.

I feel like this went by too quickly. I think the entire scene as a whole could be improved by this paragraph. Playing this as a very tense situation could keep the reader reading, wondering if he's going to get caught. Therefore, setting up the emotion for the following argument. Plus, this is an extreme run-on sentence.

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Good idea! I extended that scene a little so that I could make it more tense. I'm not sure if it's enough to accomplish the goal but at the same time I don't want to put too much focus on it.

"Deity" sounds really weird to me. It's a really formal word for God, and in such a casual setting, it instantly feels out of place. I found it odd that they didn't simply refer to their deity by name, since there's not really a reason not to, or at least we aren't given one.

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I never gave any good reasons for using "deity". Truthfully, I didn't want to use "God" because I didn't want to make readers uncomfortable with that word, and I didn't want to use "Arceus" because I've read so many stories that use "Oh my Arceus"/"Arceus, be damned!" and I wanted to avoid what, in my opinion, is becoming a cliche in Pokemon fan fiction. Nonetheless, I see what you're saying about using "deity" so I've changed them all to "Lord" or "Arceus".

I'll be honest, this made me cringe a little. Don't tell us he's the direct line to the Oak lineage with a great destiny in front of him, let the story show us that. Plus the dialogue feels extremely scripted here, and it makes Aaron look a bit fake.

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In my earlier adaptations of this fic, I had an issue with going over-the-top with the tribal dialects, and believe me when I say that the majority of a tribesman's dialogue felt scripted. I guess this one flew under my nose, but thanks for pointing it out.

The last bit felt scripted as well. I can't quite put my finger on it, but the expression used just feels... wrong. I don't know, I'm not much help with this instance, haha.

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No, I actually see what you mean. I just started incorporating suggestive themes into my fic so I'm still getting the grasp of it. I edited this part to try to make it more natural. Hopefully I succeeded, haha.

"Diety" once again. Although, now that I've read through what you have, the foreshadowing here is very nice.

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Change approved! (sorry... it's from Cougar Town... I'll let myself out)

And yes, I wanted my absolute main focus of the prologue to be on Deborah, because...well, you know XD

I don't know what this is doing here. I get the feeling that you're writing a story that wants to be taken seriously, and you're doing a pretty good job at it, but this just pushes it over into Saturday morning cartoon territory.

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This part at the end was something I've recently added to the prologue to grab the reader's retention. Basically, it was my attempt to boost reader retention for my story, but I agree that I'm hamming up it a little, so I've also reworded this to make things more serious.

Chapter 1:

This is something I see often with writers. This right here is telling, meanwhile, everything after this is showing. What you're doing is telling us what's happening, and then showing us it all, like you have to prove it or something. The first sentence is actually setting up the rest of the paragraph for failure since everything that comes after this is redundant and has already been stated. Removing the first couple sentences usually gets rid of this problem, and that's exactly what you should do here to the sentence I have quoted.

I'm not sure what this is doing here. It seems like more of a movie opening than a book, since this isn't really moving the plot forward, and movies do the classic overview of the street thing to get the audience to know the setting. Which, books don't really have to do most of the time. Books get the setting across through the main characters interacting with the world. Of course, a little description is perfect, but don't go overboard and create a ministory about a dad trying to keep his kids from running off.

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There's nothing more that frustrates me in writing than the beginning, but I'm sure a lot of people feel that way. I knew going into my story, with the ideas that I had, that the beginning wouldn't be the most exciting part so my strategy was to set the scene, like in the beginning of the movie. I have a lot more experience with cinema than with books -- which I'm not very proud of but I'm working on that -- so this is one of those cases where I went with my instincts and it kinda fell on my face. I completely agree with this criticism so I've changed the beginning so that it can focus on Adam.

I'm really confused about what happens at the beginning of this. Why does he twist his hand to relax it?

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You know how, when your wrist hurts, you're massaging it with your other hand? That's what I was going for but the wording was just weird. I changed it to try and describe that better.

"Appropriately" doesn't really need to be here. It's telling us that her interpretation was teh right one, when we can simply see that for ourselves when the conversation goes on normally.

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Thank you, honestly. I can't get a good read on what the audience can and cannot figure out without criticism like this.

Plot twist! I really liked this. It might be indirectly telling, but given that this is a pokemon fanfic, this might be one of the only cases where I'll say that it's a good thing. I was expecting pokemon to already exist and be incorporated in every day life, so this bit of information was good.

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I tried really hard and have rewritten that part so many times to get that bit of exposition into my story without feeling too unnatural. As you pointed out, it's not perfect but I'm glad its revelation makes up for it, haha.

I had a very hard time following this paragraph. It jumps around way too much without any sort of transitions, and it made it very confusing because I thought Adam was ordering ice cream from a bank, haha.

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This is one of those rare examples where I don't organize/describe enough, haha. He stopped by the bank and there was a vendor nearby. I edited this part to make it more clearly, though.

If Adam hasn't come here in a while, and it's been forever that he's actually had someone with him here, it seems odd that his regular would be ice cream made for two people.

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I totally missed this. Thank you for pointing that out!

The use of two "days" in a row kind of interrupts the flow of the sentence. I would recommend rewording it so that it only uses one.

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I agree; I usually avoid these but I guess this one slipped under my nose.

I'm going to be brutally honest here. I was literally laughing so hard at this. I mean, here we have a group of normal people, and all of a sudden, the incarnation of every anime protagonist ever comes strolling in, complete with a metal rod for fighting. I was talking to one of my friends at the time, and I said that all this guy needed was to be homeless and a tragic backstory about how his parents can't raise him, and you've got yourself an anime hero in the making. I'm sorry, but this is a little too cliche for me.

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Yeah, I was worried how campy this was going to come across, but I will try my best to break Pierce down in light of this criticism.

I agree he comes out as very anime-like, but in fairness he was inspired by an anime character. He fights with a metal rod because a) we learned from the prologue that he's good with a weapon, and b) he lives in a rough neighborhood where your fists aren't always the best method of defense, yet he doesn't want to use something lethal like a gun. The purpose of his tragic backstory is not for teen angst "feelin' teh feelz" hoopla; my intention for Pierce is to have a lot of pain that he doesn't like to address because he prefers to be macho and charismatic.

The pain Pierce has experienced in life is similar to what Adam has experienced, but much greater in magnitude, and it's going to affect the paths that these two characters take. In other words, Pierce's main function in the story is to serve as a foil for Adam, and while his introduction is a bit sloppy, I have edited it very little but am largely keeping it the way it is because, in my opinion, I think all of it matters for his character progression. But thank you for at least confirming my concerns with his intro.

If Pierce already knows this, then why say it again?

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Good point. I'm retconning this so Pierce didn't know this or he forgot about it because the following lines indicate that nothing gets past Lady Oak and I like that about her. Thank you for pointing this out!

"Father" doesn't need to be capitalized.

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Oh, I could have sworn it was supposed to be but I'll take your word for it. Change approved!

Yes, we know.

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Haha, sorry about that.

This made me pause for a second, and think that this was a little too rude for the moment. We know that Adam isn't religious, but he doesn't need to proclaim it as fiction to his grandmother, who he respects very much.

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You're right, and I was worried, when I was writing this part, that it was venturing towards too disrespectful.

Chapter 2:

Don't use the phrase, "fit for" twice here. It ruins the flow a bit, and is a bit uncomfortable to read.

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Gah! Repetition strikes again!

Didn't he only pick one?

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I had to reread this part because I did not know what you were talking about, and it made me realized how ambiguous my wording was. He actually picked enough for a light bouquet, but thank you for addressing this.

Enough about the negatives for now, this was really good! I had a good laugh at this part, so nice work here.

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It's interesting; my friend reads my fan fiction and he thought this part was so cheesy. I told him it was worth taking the risk, but now I'm glad that someone found this amusing XD

Another quote I really liked. It captures some of the inner conflict Adam has with himself, and we start seeing Adam as an actual character.

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Ah, yes. Character development: my favorite part of storytelling.

Accept, not except.

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Yeesh! Can't believe I missed that one. Thank you!

Implying that sticking to a plan is easier.

This is telling, and not really necessary. I thought he was thinking to himself, and I don't really like how the narration took over for a brief time.

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Honestly, I only inserted this chunk because I wanted to highlight this moment as the moment where things stop being normal and sh*t begins to hit the fan. Hence, the title of my the first two chapters. I see what you mean, however, so I have compromised by still including some sort of transition because I just can't help myself, but I'm focusing specifically on Adam as opposed to getting all philosophical.

Wait, how does this work?

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Keep in mind, my knowledge of physics is very basic, but I was going for projectile motion of the water. Adam uses the board because the intensity (Power per area) would be greater than just squeezing the water out with his hands, which means the initial velocity of the water would be really high, allowing it to cover a farther distance so that more of it could land on the creature's tail. Now, I'm not suggesting this would actually work in real life (especially since it probably would not) but my imagination was running and I ran with it, haha.

What went wrong here that Adam suffered greater damage?

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Creatures like the one Adam is fighting (yes, there are more of them, if you haven't figured out what "creature" means at this point) are, in my story, similar to biological weapons. Sure, they're anthropomorphous, but they were basically engineered to be significantly stronger than humans. So when Adam punched this creature, it was like punching a wall, so he sprained his hand. I'll try to make this more clear in future chapters containing more of these "creatures".

I feel like you're trying too hard. What I mean is that you're using a bunch of complex, varied words, when simpler ones will get the point across much better not only for the audience, but for you as well. Don't be afraid to say, "said" a lot after dialogue. It's one of the only words you can get away with using over and over again, and it's often recommended to keep to it unless it doesn't convey the right message. you're using all of these varied dialogue descriptors, when it's not necessary. There were a few instances with some words that didn't include dialogue, but those are harder to point out. Just remember that it's okay to use simple words. It's just when you start to use them again and again in the same sentence that it becomes an issue.

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I was honestly under the impression that the opposite of this was true, but you saying this has really lifted a load off my shoulders. Thank you very much for being honest with me.

There were a few instances where you were telling when you should have been showing, but just keep working on it, and you'll improve in no time. You get the concept of showing, and have illustrated that you know how to, so it's only a matter of time.

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Again, thank you!

Enough about the negatives. One thing I see you doing very well in is with character conflict. The way the arguments escalate is very natural, and the cool off time Adam spends by himself after the diner is excellent. It's a real strength that you're playing to in the story, and it's making the plot all the more interesting. People hardly ever mesh seamlessly, and you're making the conflicts drive the relationship, and give each character some serious depth because of it. Keep it up.

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I can't tell you enough how much this means to me. While I do have a bunch of plots in mind going forward, I noticed early on that my favorite part of a story is focusing on the characters, so to be acknowledged for that truly made my day when I first read this.

As you may have noticed, I caught many more mistakes in the prologue then I did in the second chapter. I feel like you're getting better as you're going along, but I feel like the main reason is that I started to get into the story about that time. I felt invested in the plot, and I really wanted to continue reading without having to quote every little mistake I saw. I was really starting to enjoy it as the chapter came to a close, so just know that your story is definitely interesting.

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One of my fears for the past year (these chapters are nearly a year old, but I rebooted my fic so they're hardly recognizable from their originals) was that my story, even though it's interesting to me, is not very likable. You're the first person to tell me that my story is interesting, mainly because I never get feedback. And honestly, it's the fact that I got feedback that makes me happiest. I'd rather be told that my story needs a lot of improvement than be told nothing at all, but to be told that I'm doing things right is better than I could have imagined.

Overall, I really liked this. The story has a very good twist with the absence of pokemon, and I'm curious to see what you'll do with it. I can't guarantee that I'll read future chapters, but you've done a very nice job here. Good luck with future chapters, and I hope I helped!

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Believe me, you helped more than I ever thought anyone would. I completely understand if you can't make time for this fic, given its length and, you know, your real life, haha. I'll have my new chapter out within the week (when I can find time between my new job and my midterm tomorrow and other boring college stuff). I have to end with one last thank-you for putting in the amount of effort you did in my story. Until next time!

3. That Magic Mountain​

Clothes. Models. Ads.

Pierce periodically flipped through the pages of a random newsletter, suffering from an insufferable boredom.

"I can't find anything interesting in them, either," said a teenaged girl to his left.

The silver-haired teen was startled by the young woman, whose lips were as lusciously red as the blush she added to her youthful face. "I'm sorry," the impish girl trilled as she twirled her hair with one finger, "did I interrupt you?"

Pierce brushed his silver hair quite confidently. "Not at all," he answered, boasting his winning smile. "Just trying to pass the time."

"Ugh, tell me about it! My mom went into labor a whole two weeks early, can you believe it??" She pointed to a door with a sign explaining the area beyond it was for employees only. "She's been in there for twelve hours already."

"Bummer," Pierce coolly replied. "Poor thing. I bet you're exhausted being a good daughter and," he inched closer to her, "sticking around."

The girl giggled. "Well, I was. But it's funny; I don't feel so tired anymore."

But Pierce had stopped listening to her. The corner of his eye caught the most captivating flyer that took an entire page from its magazine. It showed a jubilant and relaxed model bathing in a pool of blue and orange bubbles. Her hair flowed gracefully across the page with its intriguing hue of sapphire due and topaz highlights. Her petite feet floated like a cloud at the end of the tub; they were so small that Pierce imagined her using them to sneak up on a fly.

In the bottom, the ad featured its product: a generic shampoo bottle, with a silly slogan that read, Reverse the clock for your skin.

"My name is Carly, by the way," the girl announced impatiently. "What's yours?"

"Pierce," the dazed lad murmured.

"I like that name … Pierce." Carly leaned over, her curiosity driving her to peak at whatever could be stealing attention away from her dolled up self. "So, umm, what brings you here, Pierce?"

A man with dark brown, spiked hair with gray streaks on the sides rushed into the waiting room from the elevator, scanning the rows of empty seats. "Pierce," he called.

"Oh, Mr. Fir!" the young man exclaimed, slapping his mag on Carly's lap to meet with his elder. "How is he? Can we visit him? Did you hear anything about Maya?"

"Relax," Adam's father urged. "They are both resting for now. Maya just woke up, but Adam suffered more injuries so it might be a while for him." He paused. "And I talked to her parents. They said you can visit her after they are gone."

Pierce breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh man, I'm so glad to hear this, sir. I was worried they'd need surgery, or—"

"Listen, Pierce …" Aaron placed a firm hand on the teen's shoulder. "There is something you should know."

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Beep! Beep! Beep!

A startled Adam feebly lifted his bruised torso from the bed he found himself in. His eyes widened with horror when he discovered the series of plastic tubes running into his arms, along with the plastic mask on his nose and mouth that he hastily tossed onto his lap. The brightness of the light panels above him was too much for his sensitive retinae to absorb, forcing him to blink excessively until they adjusted.

Beep! Beep!

Adam twisted his head to the corner of the tiny and cramped room to see a machine monitoring what appeared to be his vitals.

"How did I get here?" he wondered aloud, the hoarseness in his voice causing a strong and painful cough.

"You're awake!" a familiar voice cheered from the doorway.

"Pierce …" Adam managed to say before the coughing disrupted him once again.

"You might wanna put that mask back on," his friend worriedly suggested.

"It's fine," he feebly insisted. "I think it's all out of my system."

Pierce reached for the metal chair on the opposite corner and grabbed a seat. "Are you feeling okay, at least?"

Before Adam could answer that, the events of the night immediately began flashing into his mind. "The fire!" he panicked. "The monkey! M-Maya—?!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Pierce jumped up to comfort his friend, "Take it easy! The fire died out already. And Maya's been awake now for almost an hour. Everything is okay."

"She has?" the younger of the pair asked. "Thank … man, thank something."

"Well," Pierce queried, "maybe thank Arceus?"

"Yeah right!" Adam burst out before suffering through another assault of coughs. Pierce anxiously dashed to the sink and returned with a cup of tap water, which his friend graciously accepted. "I doubt he had anything to do with this."

Pierce quipped, "I guess some things never change." He then replayed what his friend had just shouted during his freaking out. "Hold on … did you something about a monkey?"

"Oh, that. I-it's a long story." The dehydrated young man quickly drank his water and declined Pierce's offer to fetch more. "Wait, Pierce … how did you even know about … well, any of this?"

"Are you kidding?! That fire was incredible! It was larger than anything anyone has ever seen! The press is already calling it the largest in our island's history — at least, since the last time that old volcano erupted, but nobody remembers that."

"Oh, I didn't realize," Adam admitted after rerunning what had happened over and over — the trees catching on fire, the atmosphere clouded in thick smoke, the intense fight with an unidentified species. "I was caught right in the middle of it, that I guess … How did I even get here, at the doctor's? The fire was so thick I didn't think anyone would find me."

"I guess you're lucky I did," said Pierce. "But, you know, I don't even wanna think about what would've happened if I didn't … yeah, I don't wanna think about that at all."

"You found us?" Adam inquired with genuine astonishment.

"I sure did, bud."

"And you brought us here? Both me and Maya? By yourself?"

Pierce gulped. "Of course!" he laughed. "I wasn't gonna leave either of my best pals to die out there."

"Haha, wow, I never expected that … Thanks, bro," Adam said warmly.

"It was nothing."

"You kidding?! You saved our lives, Pierce."

"I get it, already!" Pierce asserted. "It's done now."

"Alright," Adam grinned. "I guess I owe you one, man."

"Actually … I wanted to wait until you were feeling better, but is it alright if I ask you something?"

"Oh, sure, what's up?"

"How come you were in the forest to begin with?"

"Oh." Adam froze. He had almost forgotten but soon he realized that none of this would have happened if he did not get into that explosive, public argument with his father. But he felt shame, in retrospect, for the way things were left between them. "I mean, how does anyone end up anywhere, right?" he grinned.

Pierce eyed his friend with suspicion. "Yeah. That's what I figured."

"What. Why are you looking at me that way?"

"Adam," Pierce explained, "I wasn't born yesterday. You…, Maya…, solitude in a forest… I can connect the dots."

Adam blushed. "You're crazy, Pierce. It wasn't like that."

"Quit playing dumb, already."

"Alright, here's the truth," Adam began before he sighed. "It was just some innocent stargazing when I noticed smoke from a distance. We checked it out, and, well, you know the rest."

Pierce beamed. "So now I know what you meant by 'monkey' earlier, you dog, you."

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying."

"Did the monkey come out to play, and make Maya's day?"

"Pierce! No!"

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"Cares you know not … therefore, sleep," Lady Oak lightly sang. "While over you, a watch I'll keep." She swayed the heavy-eyed newborn in her arms back and forth, whose lids fluttered under her soothing tenor. "Sleep, pretty darling … do not cry …" She placed the child in a bassinette. "And I will sing you … a … lullaby."

"Lady Oak, that was beautiful," the mother applauded from her bed. "Bless you for everything you have done. Words cannot describe my gratitude."

The elderly woman strolled beside the bed. "That is enough, Poca," she insisted. "It is my duty to see that all new members of the tribe are cared for." Lady Oak poured a cup of tea and passed it to the new mother.

"Thank you." But then, her spirits were overcome with sadness. "But I do wish that, if only … my daughter arrived tomorrow at the earliest. I know what this day means to you, my Lady."

The chief smiled with poise. "It is quiet alright, dear."

"But, my Lady, you failed to make it to your daughter's tomb today. On the anniversary of her death, nevertheless. Surely, I would be devastated were I you."

"Dear, me, I have stood all night and I am afraid it has tired me. Might I take a seat right here?" the village chief asked.

"Of course, madam! After everything you did today, I would be honored."

After plopping on a wooden stool, she declared, "Now, I am certain my daughter would prefer me to bring forth a new life than to mourn a death. You have no need for your guilt, Poca. Your daughter is a beautiful angel who has been blessed by our Lord."

"Thank you, Lady Oak," said Poca. "Perhaps my conscience would be at ease if you shared a story of your daughter."

"You want to hear about Deborah?"

"Just a story would serve its comfort," the young woman explained. "If anything, it would help lull me to sleep after such a tiresome day."

Lady Oak unflappably articulated, "I thought the tea was serving that exact purpose, dear."

"Oh, heavens, have I pushed my boundaries again?" Poca sputtered. "Forgive me, my Lady! My husband always warns me of my behavior."

"No … no, do not be foolish; you have done no such thing." Lady Oak cleared her throat. "Deborah … she was a remarkable young woman. She was kind, but brave. Intelligent, but modest … She was a marvelous daughter, wife, and mother. I would often wonder how I could ever raise a person like my Deborah. She found new ways to impress me every day she lived."

"Do you have any stories of her?" Poca inquired.

"I have several. Let us see … there was one time when two brothers in a distant village were behaving ferociously with one other. Their mother begged them to end their fighting, but they would not listen. The chief commanded them to end their fighting, but they would not listen. Deborah was passing by for political matters when the two boys lost control and disrupted a very important meeting."

"What did she do?"

Lady Oak chuckled. "She merely asked them, 'Why are you fighting?' in the motherly tone she perfected on my grandson. And they stopped to explain what they were so angry about."

"What were they angry about?"

"I cannot recall. But Deborah saw the window and flew right in. She sat them down individually to understand both sides and helped the boys get along again. When the chief asked her how she was able to resolve their senseless dispute, she told him it was a skill she acquired from arranging meetings between our tribes and the settlers."

"That is remarkable!" Poca beamed. "Your daughter had quite the lip on her."

Lady Oak lightly chortled. "Yes, my daughter was mostly polite, but she possessed her moments of weakness. Sadly she takes after my own mother — bless her soul — in that way. But she delivered her lines with such dignity." The old woman checked on the infant. "Enough with this, dear. May I ask, have you decided on a name for you new daughter?"

Poca pursed her lip. "Hmm … you know what, Lady Oak? I have! I think I shall name her … Deborah!"

Lady Oak froze.

"Oh, my Lady … you hate it, don't you? I am so sorry; that was uncalled for — I take it back!"

"Nonsense," the Lady reassured. "Deborah is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"Are you sure, my Lady? I wish not to offend you."

"You have my blessing, dear."

"Very well, I suppose … it is settled!" Poca rejoiced. "My baby girl Deborah. Thank you for delivering my Deborah for me."

"I was happy be of service to you," Lady Oak told her. "But now I should tend to the rest of the village, dear. You send your husband if you require anything."

"Have I driven you away, my Lady?"

"Not at all. I shared a wonderful time with you." She stood up. "Good night, dear. May Arceus watch over you and your family."

"And the same to you!"

Lady Oak strolled outside of Poca's hut wearing a smile that stretched across her aged face. She looked up into the night sky, but the stars did not glimmer as brightly as other nights due to the lingering smoke in the air. "Ah. What a shame," she said, her lip beginning to quiver. Before she knew it, Lady Oak's eyes collected tears until they began to involuntarily flow down her wrinkled cheeks. Fighting the urge to fully break down at the risk of being spotted, her body shivered in complete despair.

"Lady Oak, is everything alright?"

The old woman quickly spun around and identified Poca's husband returning with gifts from the rest of the village. "Yes, of course, Jon," she answered pleasantly. "I felt a summer chill, is all. I must say, it felt quite odd, but I am alright."

"A chill, you say? Are you sick, my Lady? Yet you delivered my child but if you were—"

"It was a chill, Jon," she almost snapped but just as quickly regained her composure. "Your child is fine, and, I assure you, so am I."

"That is good to hear. Would you like something from my home before you depart? A quilt? Some herbs, perhaps?"

"That will not be necessary, but th—"

This time, a hauntingly real chill shot up the Lady Oak's spine, temporarily paralyzing her. Her eyes bulged out of her worn face. Her pupils dilated. And her palms shook tremendously.

"Lady Oak, you require my assistance!" Jon cried.

"Stay back!" she warned.

"But my Lady, you are not well!"

Lady Oak turned to face the island's ancient and dormant volcano, a look of grief and worry decorating her countenance. "Jon, I ask that you do everything to keep your family safe tonight."

"…S-safe from what?"

"My greatest fear." She briskly paced away, ignoring Jon's calls for her. "Adam," she whispered to herself, "I pray you are safe."

==:==:==:==:==:==:==:==:==

Ding!

The elevator door opened and Pierce rolled a wheelchair-riding Adam, who was still wearing his hospital garments and arm cast, inside.

"They moved her to the highest floor," the bipedal teen informed. "You know, Little Princess Maya deserves the best and all." He rolled his eyes in disgust.

But Adam did not even hear his friend's banter. He still could not steer his thoughts away from the events that took place. Most of all, he could not erase the image of that miniature, yet monstrous creature with whom he engaged in battle. That chimp that almost killed me, he wondered. There was something oddly familiar about it..

Adam recalled his early childhood, and how he used to read all the time at the will of his father. The texts from that phase of his life often focused on the mythology related to the Pokémon Island's native culture. And some of these particular works illustrated fictional animal-like beings possessing a range of skills and powers that, according to the literature, were recruited by both good and evil as weapons for their respective causes.

Pierce and Adam made their way across the hallway after stepping into the twelfth floor. They passed by several large rooms reserved individually for the higher-class patients, until they stopped in front of the nurse's quarters.

"We're here to see Maya Cranford," Pierce anxiously recited. "Umm, I believe she was suffering from smoke inhalation and shortness of breath?"

The nurse cracked a smile. "Just her name is fine, thank you. Maya's parents mentioned visitors would be coming after they left. Are you boys Alan and Pete?"

Pierce awkwardly stared at the nurse, then glanced at Adam, then returned to the nurse before responding. "…Yes. Those are absolutely our identities."

"Perfect!" the nurse bubbled. "Maya is in room 1214, just around the corner. Let me know if I can be of any assistance, okay? Just ask for Nurse Jeanie."

"Well, Nurse Jeanie," Pierce started with a twinkle in his eye. "I was wondering, what do you recommend I do when a pretty woman gets my heart racing?"

Adam unenthusiastically commanded, "You wheel me into Maya's room and make your own time to hit on the too-old-for-you-nurse," prompting the RN to giggle.

After finally arriving in Maya's luxurious hospital room, the boys are disappointed to discover her asleep, and a much older, senior nurse at her bedside.

"Well, this is typical!" Pierce boomed, provoking the fussy nurse to shush him. "Adam," he continued more quietly, "you realize they orchestrated this so that we wouldn't see her awake, right?"

"I dunno, Pierce. She breathed in a lot of smoke, so there's no telling how wiped out she's been all night."

The nurse butted in, "She barely spoke to her loved ones, young man. Her body is working hard to recover."

"I smell a rat," Pierce bitterly remarked. "It would be completely in the nature of these people to set us up like this. It's easy: they had their trivial little chat with Maya, they waited until she passed out, and then they gave that really cute nurse the wrong names to mess with us. My god, they always have to have the last laugh."

"Do not speak of me that way when I am in the room!" the nurse quietly barked.

"Believe me," Pierce retorted, "I'm talking about a different cute nurse." The nurse squinted her eyes disapprovingly behind her bifocals.

Adam wheeled to the counter at the corner of the room, eyeing a lovely vase filled with fresh flowers. He read the note lying beside the vase and sneered at it.

"Damian was here," he deduced. "Or, at least, his roses made it safely."

Pierce made a fist. "Wow, it's the cherry on top of this crap cake."

"Watch your language!" the nurse scolded, smoke fuming out of her narrow nose. "I can see why this young lady's delightful family would want to keep her away from someone so ill-behaved."

"Roses," Adam mocked. "Maya can't stand roses. You'd think her boyfriend would know something so basic about her."

"Agreed," said Pierce. "He should have gotten her daisies. They're Maya's favorite, and they grow not too far from her house."

Adam turned to Pierce. "I didn't know you knew about her loving daisies," he said with surprise. "She usually keeps that stuff to herself."

The playboy snickered as he flicked his silver locks, "What, you think you're the only one who's got dirt on Maya just because you two are boning?"

"I told you! We're not … never mind, I give up." Adam blocked Pierce's teasing and the old nurse's huffing and puffing. He stopped scanning the room for more objects to analyze because, frankly, there was nothing of significance to him. At last, he did what he was trying to avoid this whole time; he laid his eyes on the unconscious Maya, who slept soundly yet seemingly in distress. She bore the same tubes that ran through him an hour ago. But seeing them in someone else, let alone his dearest friend, underscored the severity of the troubles he faces so long as that creature runs wild. The last time I spoke to her … I convinced her to hate me. And now, if she knew the truth … if she knew that I failed her…

"I was just yanking your chain, Adam," Pierce confessed in a more serious tone. "You know, just trying to keep the mood light … Truth is, I hate seeing her like this, man. It really gets to me."

Adam intoned, "What if she wakes up and she hates me for real?"

"What? …Why would she hate you?"

"…I let her down, Pierce."

Pierce shifted from his one friend in a wheelchair to the other one who is unconscious. "Maya isn't the type to hold grudges. You're thinking too much about this."

Still, Adam could not shake off the guilt eating away at him. There he was, in a battle to the death with an otherworldly foe, only to succumb to a mysterious force from the pendant bestowed unto him earlier in the day. What if Pierce did not show up to rescue them? Maya would have surely perished in the flames, and all because he failed her. The last person Adam ever expected to fail was the only girl who gave him a chance to be himself.

"Excuse me," Adam uttered to the nurse as he rolled next to Maya.

"Young man, you are getting to close. I need you to back away this instant," the nurse sniped.

"Please, just shut up."

The nurse gasped, but it didn't stop Adam from taking her space.

"Maya…" the grief-stricken boy slid his fingers across the sleeping girl's arm. He barely managed to let out, "I'm s-so sorry." Pierce turned away, the melancholic atmosphere making him uneasy. Adam finally settled his hand on Maya's hand and interlocked his fingers into her own, ultimately breathing a hopeless sigh and hanging his head dejectedly.

But then, Adam began to feel movement between his fingers. He cocked his head back up and was shocked to witness his the girl's hand jerking away from his own, afterwards feeling its way around until it landed on Adam's cast and stayed there. Maya's eyes quivered ajar, and when her vision finally returned, her first sight brought a feeble, yet genuine smile across her weary face.

"Adam…" Maya softly spoke. "You came…"

"Of course I did, Maya," Adam lisped. "I would never abandon you." The two of them exchanged an intimate glance, similarly to what they shared earlier in Maya's bedroom, but this time there was a much more innocent ambiance. For the first time since that night, Adam was able to forget about the pain from the fire and the creature and facing death. To him, Maya possessed the touch of an angel, and her petite hand resting on his arm not only calmed his spirit, but brightened it.

Pierce queried, "Maya, are you feeling better?"

"Pierce," Maya started, "I'm so happy to see you. My head still hurts, but I am feeling much better than before."

"That's great to hear. I was so worried about you. Do you need some water? Your pillow fluffed? Medicine?"

"That would be my job," the nurse interrupted, prompting Maya to weakly giggle. The nurse checked her watch for the fifth time since the boys showed up and stated, "Visiting hours have officially concluded for the day. I must go get Ms. Cranford's painkiller, but I expect you boys to be gone when I return."

"What a load of crap!" Pierce exclaimed. "We see her for a few minutes and now you're kicking us out? Did her mom and dad put you up to this?"

"Those are the rules, you mongrel!" the nurse howled before stomping her pumps out of the room.

"I'm sorry," said Maya. "I wish you could stay."

"Maybe we should fight this," Pierce suggested. "It's no fair leaving you by yourself, Maya, if there are people who want to keep you company. What do you think, Adam?"

Adam did not answer. Instead, he slowly removed himself off of his wheelchair.

"Adam! What are you doing?" Pierce exclaimed.

"Wait, Adam," Maya queried, "when did you get hurt?"

"I'm fine," Adam insisted as he leaned one arm on the chair to tear off the cast on the other. Afterwards, he began to walk toward his short-tempered pal.

Pierce ordered, "Get back in your chair, Adam. You're still hurt."

"I said I'm fine, Pierce. I wanna check out of here." He faced Maya. "I'll visit in the morning, okay?"

The girl nodded, still puzzled by the boy's current medical state. "Uh, yeah. I look forward to it."

"I'll be back," Pierce vowed. "Don't you worry." Maya waved goodbye to her friends as Pierce helped Adam out of the room, where they ran into the old nurse who snuck in a look of victory over the boys. Luckily, Adam was able to yank Pierce away before he got them in trouble.

After assisting Adam into his normal clothes, Pierce directed his friend to the elevator and started a conversation once inside.

"So why exactly do you want to leave so badly?"

"Look at me, Pierce. I can walk again. I'm fine. There's no point in sticking around."

"I gotta say, you recovered very quickly. It's almost superhuman."

Adam noticed this, too, but credited it to his willpower. "You know I don't like hospitals, Pierce. Besides, stuff like this is all mind over matter."

"Hah, is that so?" Pierce quipped while yawning and rubbing his forehead. "Man, I'm beat. I guess I'll come back in the morning, too."

Adam nodded, though he was distracted by his own thoughts.

"I assume you're also going home?"

"Huh? Oh, I was thinking about staying with my grandmother for the night. I mean, it is closer to the hospital, I think."

Pierce, out of the blue, punched the emergency button on the elevator, jerking it to a halt and catching a worn-out Adam off balance.

"What was that for?!"

"Go home, Adam," Pierce demanded. "For Pete's sake, talk to your father."

Adam arched an eyebrow confusedly. "Come again?"

Pierce sighed. "He wanted to keep it a secret."

"…Keep what a secret?"

"I didn't rescue you from the fire, Adam; I rescued Maya. Your dad rescued you."

Adam stammered, "…H-how did he—"

"How else? He was looking for you after your fight, — and yeah, he told me about your fight — he saw the fire, and he ran into it to look for you."

"But you said—"

"I know what I said. And now I'm unsaying it."

"Hunh." Adam was left speechless. He kept his fight with his father a secret from Pierce to spare himself any embarrassment, when Pierce not only knew about it, but was additionally instructed to keep a different secret from him for Aaron. Before he saw the smoke in the forest, Adam was ready to mend his relationship with Aaron. But that toxic smoke was incomparable to the haze that kept him and his father from mending their years' worth of issues. "Why would we want to keep that a secret from me?"

"Adam … he doesn't want to buy your love. He doesn't want you to think you owe him now, which sounds messed up, but that's not my place to say." Pierce paused. "He wants your love unconditionally. At least, that was the gist of his speech before he left."

"I see." Adam briefly shut his eyes, doing everything he could to remain in control of his emotions. "Pierce, d-do you think it's too late to make up with my dad?"

"No. It's too late to make up with my dad. Trust me; there's hope for you."

"Even with all our history? I mean, since my mother died…"

"You know what, Adam?" Pierce burrowed through his mind until he found a response. "You can't reverse the clock, no matter how badly you want to. Focus on the present, for once."

Adam chuckled. "You can't reverse the clock. Did you read that somewhere, bookworm?"

Pierce playfully punched his friend's shoulder. "Just go home, stupid. You're lucky to have a dad like that."

Adam restarted the elevator. "Yeah, I gotcha."

At the ground floor, Adam went to pick up his skateboard while parting ways with Pierce. Once he was finally outside, he had a choice to make: left or right. Adam mounted his board and turned left, at the direction of the Oak Village. He know realized his relationship with his father was worth mending, and while that truly brought a sense of joy into the typically unhappy teen, there was a greater sense of urgency that was directing him towards visiting his grandmother at such a late hour.

Adam reached into his jacket's pocket and pulled out his new pendant, only this time it resembled any other piece of jewelry. "There's only one person on this island who would know what's going on."

==:==:==:==:==:==:==:==:==

Lady Oak, dressed in sacred garments, sat cross-legged at the edge of the village bordering the northern forest. Her hands were clasped together as she inaudibly chanted an ancient prayer of security.

"Chobin, have you done as I commanded?" she asked.

A particularly small villager had hobbled soundlessly towards the woman when her sudden burst caught him off guard where he almost fell backwards. "Y-yes, madam. Our council has been alerted and is unlocking our emergency resources this instant."

"Good," she said.

"M-my Lady," Chobin continued nervously, "the members of the council were asking why I had been given these orders from you. Are you still settled on keeping your reasons to yourself?"

Lady Oak paused her chant. "Chobin, if you have time to seek information from me, then you have time to pray."

"Yes, my Lady!" he resounded before kneeling. "…Pray for what, might I ask?"

"My forgiveness."

"F-forgiveness? My Lady, what could you have done to entertain such absurdity?"

The old woman sighed. "I fabricated another story about my daughter."

Chobin sat down beside his superior. "Oh, madam, what persuades you to manufacture tales of your daughter's legacy time and time again?"

Lady Oak resumed her previous stance. "Deborah's death threatened the hopes of the island's natives, Chobin, as did it encourage thoughts of exploitation by the settlers. It is precisely her ongoing legacy that keeps our spirits up." After finishing her prayer, she rested her arms on her lap and stared at the sky. "I do not regret the choices I make, Chobin; I only wish to be accepted by our Lord, Arceus, and thus I require his forgiveness."

Chobin cleared his throat. "But m-my lady, I also bring you some troubling news."

"Is it about my grandson?"

"Y-yes!" a baffled Chobin shouted. "How did you know?"

"Is he hurt?" Lady Oak turned to her associate with a look of worry buried within her elderly face.

"Aaron sent word that your grandson… I am afraid he was caught in the fire that spread tonight. But he has been hospitalized and is recovering at a healthy pace, my Lady."

The matron calmly accepted the news, to her associate's surprise, and then ordered, "Forget about my forgiveness, Chobin. I need you to pray for Adam's safety this very moment."

The petite man closed his eyes and offered a prayer to their deity, but was interrupted by a transparently anxious Lady Oak. "Chobin, have you noticed the mysterious light glowing from the mountain as of late?"

The short man nodded left and right.

"No, I suspected not."

Suddenly, another chill shot up the woman's spine.

"We are out of time, Chobin," she uttered gravely while removing herself and her staff from the ground "Get up, now!"

Spooked by his leader's unexpected shift in tone, the man stood and stuttered, "T-t-time for what…?"

Out of the shadows of the bushy, summer trees, in the tranquil and airless night, a mysterious, tall figure creepily emerged, with an unsettling gait that could strike fear into a militia of men. As he made his way into the open, his onlookers took notice of his fiery red hair complemented by an amber flip back on the front. He wore a sleek, black vest that exposed his brawny, reddened arms, sleek, black army pants, and pitch black boots that made a crunch for every step he stomped on a dead leaf. But what was hardest to avoid from this man was the cold, empty, brown transfixion emitted from his glaring, menacing eyes.

"Eeek!" Chobin shrilled while taking a step back.

"Who are you?" Lady Oak began authoritatively. "Speak, visitor!"

The stranger rubbed his scarlet goatee. "Hey!" he innocently exclaimed. "That's my line."

Lady Oak stood unamused.

"Tough crowd," the man smirked arrogantly, playing on his rugged handsomeness. He sighed a very unrealistic sigh, as if he were toying with the woman. "Alright, grannie, maybe you can help me out."

"Do not speak to her that way!" Chobin demanded. But all it took was one intensified, focused glare from the stranger for all of petite man's summoned courage to quickly dissipate.

The stranger informed, "I've been searching all over this island for something that's called the Oak Village. The problem is, every one of these old-looking ruts looks exactly the same." He requested with a smile, "Would you care to point me to the right direction?"

Lady Oak answered, "If it is the Oak Village you are looking for, then it is right beyond this path you will find it."

The man's brows raise in an unsettling amount of delight. "No kidding!" he cheered, bringing uneasiness to the natives. "Whadaya know? It sure took me a few villages, but I finally found it. Talk about perseverance, am I right?" Again, the mysterious man grinned from ear to ear, but quickly terminated his expression over the lack of response from his conversers.

"You have failed to answer my question," Lady Oak asserted.

The stranger stared at her with doe-eyed confusion, until he abruptly snapped his fingers, which took even the old woman by surprise. "Oh, right! My identity."

Lady Oak still remained unamused with his charade.

"Let's just say I'm a man on a mission."

"A mission for what?"

"Slow down, grannie," he said jokingly. "Maybe I can fill you in after you take me to whoever's in charge around here."

"You wish to speak to the chief of the Oak Tribe?"

The stranger winked, prompting Chobin's eyes to widen in disbelief. "That, I do."

Lady Oak held her staff at her side more tightly. "He is not available at the moment. Our chief is a busy man, but you may return tomorrow should you still wish to speak with him."

"Oh?" The stranger tilted his head backwards for a moment. He simpered, "Sorry to break it to you, grannie, but I'm what you might call 'priority handling.' So if you could either shuffle away or, I don't know, actually do what I ask of you, then I'm sure this could end in the … 'cleanest' way."

Chobin could no longer suppress his climbing rage. "How dare you speak to Lady Oak in that manner! I ought to have you hanged for such blatant disrespect!"

"Chobin…" Lady Oak whispered angrily.

"Wow, look at that!" the stranger spoke in blatant mockery. "The leader of this prestigious village is none other than this old woman." He began to clap. "Good for you! Good for women everywhere! You're an inspiration, you know that?"

"That is enough."

"And you tried to cover it up, too. You're very clever."

"Are you done?" the chief muttered, slowly losing her patience.

"Oh, I get it," he smirked, pointing at the woman. "You're his grandmother. You are literally his grannie."

"Whose grandmother am I?"

For the first time, the stranger dropped his happy-go-lucky façade, his speech taking a turn for the nasty.

"My target's."

Lady Oak's eyes narrowed at this revelation. "I see," she stated, her anger broadening. "So first you come after my daughter seven years ago, and now you return for my grandson."

"My Lady…" Chobin exclaimed, "Lady Deborah perished from disease. Are you suggesting that Lady Deborah was…?"

"Murdered," Lady Oak finished for the man.

"Your daughter?" the stranger repeated. "Oh, right, her. Yeah, he told me you would bring her up."

"Are you not the one who fatally injured my daughter? Then who?"

"You need to let that go," the stranger reckoned. He solemnly added, "From what I was told, your daughter wasn't supposed to die." But his tone turned cruel. "And she would still be alive if she weren't such a meddlesome, persistent, b*tch."

"How dare you!" Lady Oak retaliated.

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger," the stranger guiltlessly quipped.

"The fact that you expect me to turn in my grandson is sickening on its own. But my daughter … my sweet Deborah … I refuse to cooperate with a man as repulsive and boorish as you!"

"Jesus, tell me how you really feel."

"Enough with your jests, coward! Return from whence you came!"

The man smirked once again, resting his fists on his hips. "Couldn't if I wanted to; I gotta wait a few hours before they can charge it up again."

A frightened Chobin inquired, "Ch-charge what?"

The stranger casually arched his thumb and pointed it behind him, towards the dormant volcano. "That magic mountain of yours sure is something." He briefly bent his knee. "Have you ever been through a portal, Your Majesty?"

"Do not mock me!" Lady Oak demanded.

"Then quit wasting my time, you old hag." He crossed his arms and stared coldly at the woman. "Either you tell me how to get to your baby boy so I can … subdue him, or you force me to get my hands dirty."

"Do not threaten me, you vile mongrel," the Lady hissed.

The stranger laughed uncontrollably for an uncomfortable timespan. "Suit yourself."

He reached for the side of his belt and removed from it a peculiar, spherical contraption. After squeezing his coarse, dull palm around it, the sphere increased dramatically in size. The stranger clicked a button at the contraptions center and tossed it into the air, where it opened and released a light that struck the ground between him and the villagers.

To their shock, the beam of light morphed into an animalistic form until it disappeared and left behind a black, growling canine with a red muzzle and underbelly, the likes of it never seen before by either of the natives.

"My suspicions have been confirmed," Lady Oak surmised wide-eyed. "You own Pokémon … just like the man who killed my daughter."

Chobin remained frozen in complete terror.

"Where I come from," the stranger noted, "it's not that special … But now that you know what I'm working with, I'm expecting some more cooperation from you."

"Chobin," the Lady instructed, "alert the council. And the villagers. Now!"

Chobin took no time at all to frantically escape the premises, screaming at the top of his lungs, Danger! Danger!

"You stupid, miserable, old hag," the stranger mercilessly jeered before cracking a devilish grin. "Nothing can save you from what I'm about to do to you … and your precious village."

"You underestimate me," Lady Oak affirmed. "I already sealed the village with a spell that will prevent you from using any of your dark magic."

"Is that why it feels so stuffy?" the man joked.

The old woman raised her staff. "Go on, you fool! Try my strength, for it will not bend to your own!"

The man broke into laughter. "You've lost it, hag."

"You will not kill me! I would never die at the hands of a mindless drone!" She began reciting an inaudible incantation.

"Sorry that I can't entertain your delusions any longer, grannie, but I've run out of patience, and you've run out of time."

The stranger's biceps flexed. His legs stiffened. And a vein bulged across his forehead.

"It's time you join your daughter in hell! Houndour! Sick 'em!"

The canine Pokémon barked demonically at the woman before it leapt towards her, teeth first.

"You will never be able to subdue my grandson, so help me Arceus!"

Lady Oak furiously spun her staff just as the canine landed on it, creating a mystical shield that kept its jaws anywhere near her.

"What?!" the stranger roared.

Lady Oak spun her sacred staff with gaining momentum, until Houndour could no longer endure it and got tossed backwards, landing firmly on its back. Before the stranger could react, a blinding white light shone where the woman stood, and when it disappeared, so did she.

Infuriated by her escape, the man pounded his fist onto the ground. "That old hag!" he screamed madly, like an escaped mental patient. "I'll kill her for making a fool of me!"

The stranger just as immediately regained his self-control and noticed his Pokémon struggling to return on all fours. He smirked, ultimately bunting the beast's body as a way to punish and assist it. "Destroy the village," he coldly commanded his soldier. "Leave nothing but ashes."

Houndour leapt away, emitting a sea of fire from its jaws. The stranger, out of nowhere, began to laugh maniacally, for he was filled with excitement. "Oh, I'll find this kid, for sure … even it means setting this entire world in flames."

The silver-haired teen was startled by the young woman, whose lips were as lusciously red as the blush she added to her youthful face. "I'm sorry," the impish girl trilled as she twirled her hair with one finger, "did I interrupt you?"

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I like this; to show Pierce's view on women, you are describing the woman just as such. Cool writing trick.

"Bummer," Pierce coolly replied. "Poor thing. I bet you're exhausted being a good daughter and," he inched closer to her, "sticking around."

The girl giggled. "Well, I was. But it's funny; I don't feel so tired anymore."

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EWW, he's being so creepy and she's enjoying it. Ugh, at least it's realistic :).

But Pierce had stopped listening to her. The corner of his eye caught the most captivating flyer that took an entire page from its magazine. It showed a jubilant and relaxed model bathing in a pool of blue and orange bubbles. Her hair flowed gracefully across the page with its intriguing hue of sapphire due and topaz highlights. Her petite feet floated like a cloud at the end of the tub; they were so small that Pierce imagined her using them to sneak up on a fly.

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....I really hate this guy. Like really.

"My name is Carly, by the way," the girl announced impatiently. "What's yours?"

"Pierce," the dazed lad murmured.

"I like that name … Pierce." Carly leaned over, her curiosity driving her to peak at whatever could be stealing attention away from her dolled up self. "So, umm, what brings you here, Pierce?"

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Again, the fact grills like these exist in real life saddens me :(.

A startled Adam feebly lifted his bruised torso from the bed he found himself in. His eyes widened with horror when he discovered the series of plastic tubes running into his arms, along with the plastic mask on his nose and mouth that he hastily tossed onto his lap. The brightness of the light panels above him was too much for his sensitive retinae to absorb, forcing him to blink excessively until they adjusted.

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Ugh, aww man. I wanted to know what the Pokemon was that attacked him. Oh well, I guess we'll find out another time.

Before Adam could answer that, the events of the night immediately began flashing into his mind. "The fire!" he panicked. "The monkey! M-Maya—?!"

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Oh nvm, it's a Chimchar. Pretty cool way to reveal his attacker. Instead of just saying "oh a chimchar attacked him", you have it be kinda subtle by making it clearly a fire Pokemon, and a monkey. Then again, I guess it could be a Pansear. Oh well, that doesn't really matter, now does it?

"Whoa, whoa!" Pierce jumped up to comfort his friend, "Take it easy! The fire died out already. And Maya's been awake now for almost an hour. Everything is okay."

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Pierce is being likeable right now, but I really can't stand his misogynistic attitude. I hope he develops out of that.

"Oh." Adam froze. He had almost forgotten but soon he realized that none of this would have happened if he did not get into that explosive, public argument with his father. But he felt shame, in retrospect, for the way things were left between them. "I mean, how does anyone end up anywhere, right?" he grinned.

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Cool way to recap the readers on what happened, and to have a little bit of character development.

Pierce eyed his friend with suspicion. "Yeah. That's what I figured."

Pierce beamed. "So now I know what you meant by 'monkey' earlier, you dog, you."

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying."

"Did the monkey come out to play, and make Maya's day?"

"Pierce! No!"

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And now I am back to hating creepy, disgusting, Pierce. I really hope you're making me dislike him on purpose, and this isn't supposed to be funny or anything :P.

"M-my Lady," Chobin continued nervously, "the members of the council were asking why I had been given these orders from you. Are you still settled on keeping your reasons to yourself?"

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Okay here's a bit of problem. You have this be Chobin from XD, right? Here's the thing; he doesn't talk or act anything like Chobin. Chobin talks in third person, and like a little kid, see? This is just the same name and it's a cameo for the sake of a cameo. Very unnecessary and ER advises changing the name.

"Do you have any stories of her?" Poca inquired.

"I have several. Let us see … there was one time when two brothers in a distant village were behaving ferociously with one other. Their mother begged them to end their fighting, but they would not listen. The chief commanded them to end their fighting, but they would not listen. Deborah was passing by for political matters when the two boys lost control and disrupted a very important meeting."

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The exposition is rather tacky here, but the backstory is pretty cool and intriguing.

"What did she do?"

Lady Oak chuckled. "She merely asked them, 'Why are you fighting?' in the motherly tone she perfected on my grandson. And they stopped to explain what they were so angry about."

"What were they angry about?"

"I cannot recall. But Deborah saw the window and flew right in. She sat them down individually to understand both sides and helped the boys get along again. When the chief asked her how she was able to resolve their senseless dispute, she told him it was a skill she acquired from arranging meetings between our tribes and the settlers."

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Feels kinda off how she's constantly asking questions in order to supply information to the audience. It's like they're playing 20 questions, yknow?

Out of the shadows of the bushy, summer trees, in the tranquil and airless night, a mysterious, tall figure creepily emerged, with an unsettling gait that could strike fear into a militia of men. As he made his way into the open, his onlookers took notice of his fiery red hair complemented by an amber flip back on the front. He wore a sleek, black vest that exposed his brawny, reddened arms, sleek, black army pants, and pitch black boots that made a crunch for every step he stomped on a dead leaf. But what was hardest to avoid from this man was the cold, empty, brown transfixion emitted from his glaring, menacing eyes.

"Eeek!" Chobin shrilled while taking a step back.

"Who are you?" Lady Oak began authoritatively. "Speak, visitor!"

The stranger rubbed his scarlet goatee. "Hey!" he innocently exclaimed. "That's my line."

Lady Oak stood unamused.

"Tough crowd," the man smirked arrogantly, playing on his rugged handsomeness. He sighed a very unrealistic sigh, as if he were toying with the woman. "Alright, grannie, maybe you can help me out."

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Hahhahaha, I love this guy. You describe him all intimidating and scary, but he's such a troll.

"You need to let that go," the stranger reckoned. He solemnly added, "From what I was told, your daughter wasn't supposed to die." But his tone turned cruel. "And she would still be alive if she weren't such a meddlesome, persistent, b*tch."

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You do know you don't need to censor like that, right? If you use the size tags around a letter, it will override the filter, bitch.

Again, the mysterious man grinned from ear to ear, but quickly terminated his expression over the lack of response from his conversers.

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I think you're trying too hard here to make him seem mysterious. We get it by now :P

"Oh?" The stranger tilted his head backwards for a moment.

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If you aren't going to give him a name; at least spice up the vocabulary of how you describe him, and not just "The stranger". Try "the man" or "the tall guy" or something like that. Maybe to make things simpler give him a codename, it can even be delivered in-story by like "Just refer to me as X" or something like that. Whatever works best, just constantly calling him "the stranger" is a bit boring.

Houndour leapt away, emitting a sea of fire from its jaws. The stranger, out of nowhere, began to laugh maniacally, for he was filled with excitement. "Oh, I'll find this kid, for sure … even it means setting this entire world in flames."

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I like this guy. From now on I will call him Billy until you give him a name.

Overall, really good description on your end. You managed to articulate the characters feelings and actions rather realistically. My only issue is the structure was a bit off. Instead of having the bit with Adam and Pierce at the beginning, you should have just plainly focused on the second half, and you could have had flashbacks going on with the plot instead of the exposition. If you didn't want to leave chapter 2 on a cliffhanger for so long, you could have done a chapter with more of Adam and Pierce and pushing along their plot more, and THEN come back to this. The plot is pretty cool so far, and you seem to know where it's going. However, try to view structure equally as important as character and plot., and how you can manipulate said structure in order to provide a more interesting plot :).