The last of Telmund and Hender's field trips, when Tel was seventeen.
"Hello, Telmund."
"Good morning, Krax."
Three words, still not four. He knew he'd have to improve, but he just… didn't. It was the classic case of waiting for the right time that never came. Telmund the Learned knew that he couldn't have his shy tendencies dominating him all his life. But it couldn't hurt to just leave it one more day, could it?
Ah, new books. A new set of print, just come in – he didn't mind carrying them in to place them on the shelves. It meant he knew where they were when he came to read them, which he most certainly would. Tel loved books. Books were never awkward, you could always know you were safe with a book – no talking back, no noise, nothing unexpected; just pick it up, read what you want, put it down. Well, some people got papercuts, but being a Metang gave him a useful invulnerability to that. Were he a Clefairy or a Pikachu or something, he'd probably be more papercut than Pokémon.
"Hey there!"
"AAGH!" Tel was yanked from his train of thought by someone in front of him, his body reacting in a very similar way to his voice. Books were flung in all directions, and Telmund hastily thrust his metal arms outwards. To his delight and surprise, the books froze in place, surrounded by a pink glow. The bystander watched intently as the Metang drew the books back into position on his arms, after which the glow soon faded.
"Wow." The bystander, a Nidorina, commented, "That was really impressive."
Tel laughed nervously, "Thanks…"
"Hey, aren't you Telmund?"
Tel sighed, taking specific interest in the skirting board. "Yeah…"
"Charden Melaine, pleased to meet your acquaintance." The Nidorina smiled, thrusting her hand forwards for a handshake. Telmund glanced worriedly at the hand for a second, then continued his desperate avoidance of eye contact.
"Uhh… Carrying…"
"Oh, sorry, I'll ah… leave you to it, then. See you round, Telmund!"
And with that, Charden left – a bit miffed, though she didn't show it. Tel cautiously floated past, plonking the books down on the leftmost bookshelf. A voice next to him startled him again.
"So who was that?"
"AGH! Huhh..." Tel was shocked, then relived at the sight of a familiar face; Hender the Seven Eyes, his tutor, mentor – foster father, even, though the two never really acknowledged it.
"My apologies. You're really on-edge, Tel. Anyone you know?"
"Charden Melaine. Pleased to meet my acquaintance, apparently."
"Well remembered." Hender said dryly, "Though still only three words – no, I'm afraid 'uhh' doesn't count."
"I'm fairly sure if it did I'd be spouting monologues at every turn."
The old Gardevoir chuckled, resting a hand on the Metang's shoulder.
"I'm sure you would. Come, if you're ready then we should depart. I feel it would be best to catch the bees earlier, before they come back from the first nectar run. We should be concealed well enough, but best not to take chances."
"Chances? Is this dangerous, Hender?"
The sage dismissed the thought with a wave, "Oh, Arceus, no. Unless you move at all. Or think too loudly."
Tel raised an eyebrow, then rolled his eyes at his mentor's fear-mongering. He was older, yes, but part of him was still the sly, quick-witted adventurer; seeing the sights, fighting the battles and bantering with allies. Annoying, but admittedly refreshing.
There was little to prepare before the two left, turning onto Main Street before finding the exit. The two Feuding Giants towered above as Skyhaven sank away from them, the Pinnacle rising even higher as an ever-present feature of the skyline. City soon gave way to plains as they turned to their left, soon coming across Hender's desired spot – a grassy ledge overlooking what looked like a medium-sized Combee hive. The Seven Eyes went prone, settling nicely into the foliage.
"Ah, now this should cover us nicely."
"Us? You're fine, but me? Couldn't you find a nice grey/gold rock for me to sit by?"
"You will be fine, Tel. I'm no better off than you."
"You're massively better off than me! Your body is designed for grass camouflage compared to mine – your head looks like a cabbage, for goodness' sake."
Hender frowned, "I resent that statement. Now nestle down, there's enough greenery to cover you completely. We're far enough away from the hive anyhow, they will not bother us."
Tel raised an eyebrow, sceptical, then gave up and dove into the undergrowth. Combees buzzed relentlessly around the hive, and if one peeked inside with sharp enough eyes, one would spot the outline of a Vespiquen, content in her regal fortress. The teacher and pupil waited quietly for a short while, with only the monotonous hum of the hive to fill the silence. A minute or so passed, and then Hender spoke:
"So, Telmund, tell me: how exactly would you rate the importance of a single Combee?"
"In the grand scheme of things?"
"Let's say… in a hive. One Combee in a hive."
"Low. One out of hundreds."
"Very well. A very reasonable argument. Now, what is the importance of a Vespiquen in a hive?"
"High."
"And why, per chance, is the Vespiquen's importance high?"
"Because it is the leader of the hive."
"Mhmm. A valid point, Tel, but consider this; take away all of the Combees. Now what importance does the Vespiquen have?"
"… Virtually none."
"Good. And why?"
"Because her importance comes from leading the hive. With no hive, it has nothing to lead, and thus little to no importance."
"Exactly, Tel. Without Combees to populate the hive, being Queen of the hive means nothing. A King is only as successful as his kingdom – it is the kingdom that holds the true importance, not the figurehead behind it. All of the little bees, who alone seem to hold little importance, actually hold all of the importance in the world. Ponder that, we'll see if- wait- what's going on? That isn't..."
Hender's eyes widened in shock as the Combees became more and more agitated, and the source of that agitation became clear: A patrol of King Aion's men, mostly Fire-types, torching the hive into a blackened mess of what used to be honeycomb. Several Combees attempted to retaliate, but couldn't pass the wall of flame that was soon engulfing their home. Hender the Seven Eyes' face twisted into a scowl, his two physical eyes almost glowing with hatred.
Tel looked to his mentor, "Hender, why are they burning the hive?"
"Probably because they can." The sage replied in disgust, "A hundred years ago, and I would have killed those men on-sight. Despicable behaviour. And in the name of honour, of all things. They make me sick. Come, we should go. Now."
Hender grabbed Tel by the arm to pull him away, forgetting that he was a very heavy Metang. Telmund didn't budge until he floated up from the ground, now pullable by his elder. He was shocked at two things:
First of all, the King's men. He'd always known that men like those existed, evil Pokémon without concern for anything good or true, but there'd always been a sort of disbelief that anyone in this world could be such people. Experiencing those people, seeing them first hand… it was something else, other than just hearing that some people had done some stuff over at some place.
The other thing that shocked him was Hender's reaction to it. He was angry, furious – more angry than Tel had ever seen the Gardevoir. He looked not just angry, either, but deeply saddened, cursing himself for being unable – or unwilling – to do anything to stop the men. Sometimes it was hard for Tel to remember that although Hender was his teacher and mentor, a solid shoulder to lean on, he was also just another Pokémon. Just like him. With two things to shock him, unfortunately, it took virtually no time at all for Tel to be met with a third.
"Um, Hender – is it me, or is the buzzing getting louder?"
"Oh, good." Hender the Seven Eyes didn't beat around the bush, instead stopping dead in his tracks, motioning for Telmund to move closer. This field trip was just getting worse and worse – now he had to fend off a whole swarm of Combees and- no, that wasn't- it was. The Vespiquen was there, too.
"Why is the Vespiquen after us?" Tel cried.
"Because Lady Luck is a cruel mistress, my student. Now stay close, and remember your training."
"We're going to fight them? Are you sure you don't have any honey? I'm sure we could explain our innocence over a lovely meal."
"As much as I'm terribly certain that would work, Telmund, I'm afraid I'm fresh out of honey."
Tel simply groaned in response, a strange, resonant, metallic sound, then began reciting various facts: The square root of one-hundred-and-sixty-nine is thirteen, a Combee is a dual Bug and Flying type Pokémon resembling three pieces of honeycomb with wings, honey is delicious. Hender took a more practical approach, levitating a multitude of stones and rocks with psychic energy. One by one, he flung his hands out to launch them, glowing missiles flying forwards and curving with an unfailing will to strike their targets. Combees fell in their masses, but where was the Vespiquen?
A large shadow loomed over Tel from above. Oh. There it was.
The Vespiquen's claw slashed down at Telmund in a Fury Cutter, catching him off-guard. The Metang hastily brought his claws up to defend, forming a white ball of energy between them. The Fury Cutter sliced cleanly through the ball, hitting Tel and sending him spinning. As he slowed, he launched the ball, which slammed into the Vespiquen in a Metal Burst attack. Tel looked on in surprise for a moment.
"Huh. That worked. How did that work? Ah, uh- Hender! Vespiquen! Help! Please…"
"You can handle her yourself." The Seven Eyes told his apprentice calmly, slamming three Combees into the ground with a Psychic attack, "Remember? A Queen is nothing without her hive. I'll deal with the Combees, you just focus."
"Somehow that really isn't too reassuring right now- AH!" Tel barely blocked a Slash attack, his Steel typing and a quick Iron Defense rendering the attack relatively harmless. "Uuughhhh, here goes nothing…"
The Vespiquen readied herself for yet another attack, what looked like dark smoke forming on her right hand. They have Ghost type moves? Is that a Ghost type move? Tel thought worriedly, Please say that isn't a Ghost type move…
As the Queen of the hive moved in for the Pursuit attack – thankfully not a Ghost type move – Telmund's right hand began to crackle with electricity, and steam poured off from his left as frost began to form on the surface. Suddenly, both combatants launched their attacks at once; the two right fists connected, and as Tel visibly recoiled from the Dark energy, the Vespiquen's body convulsed with a stream of electricity from the Thunder Punch. With the Queen clearly frazzled, and Tel hurt but steady, the young Metang followed up with his left claw. Ice Punch knocked the Vespiquen to the ground, and soon she stopped buzzing.
Hender had made short work of the hundred or so Combees who had assailed them, having been able to freely observe the end of Telmund's fight. Tel seemed lost in thought, simply staring at the fallen hive Queen before him, regret invading his mind in a flood of guilt. This was wrong. His mentor's voice yanked him to his senses.
"Tel, we must be going. It will do no good to stay here any longer."
Tel appeared to be in a state of shock, "… Is- is she dead? Why did we have to fight them?"
"They attacked us, Telmund; there is nothing wrong with self-defence. If the hive Queen is dead, then you simply gave her a better fate than dying at the hands of the King's monsters. However, I think it is best if we don't know whether she still lives. Leave her be. Now, let us go, before I change my mind and bury the King's men alive in the hive they're incinerating…"
Hender formed a pink orb in his hands, pushing it carefully onto Tel to heal his wounds. He looked at his student in concern, which was difficult when he was still bristling with anger at his own inability to do… was it the right thing? He didn't know, but he didn't want to risk jeopardising his life in Skyhaven, and more importantly, Tel's life there, too. He couldn't really bear to think about it. Telmund was just as saddened as Hender was, inwardly distraught at the reality of the experience. He'd learned of people like King Aion's men, yes, but he'd been kept safe from them in his sheltered life. The truth was that those people were alive, they were active, and they were close. The two walked back in silence to the safety of their home, understandably in something of a bad mood.
On closing the door to his house/tower, Hender sighed and rested his back on the frame. The field trip had failed, and was frankly quite depressing for the both of them. He looked over at Tel; his apprentice, his student, his child – visibly saddened at the day's events, staring solemnly at nowhere in particular. Hender broke the silence.
"So… a cabbage? Really?"
Telmund the Learned managed a small smile.