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[Pokémon] Champion Game [M]

for him.

I'm trash.
860
Posts
13
Years
  • Age 28
  • Seen Aug 6, 2023
I wanted to smack my face in utter sadness at the end of the newest chapter. Stupid cliffhanger. Good way to end a chapter though. :D I really want the next chapter to be posted so I can read what happens. :D

I love all the questions Ren asks himself. It's interesting to read his "inner turmoil". Natasha is a great character and I hope she appears more often. (She's hilarious.) I didn't catch much spelling and grammar wise.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
Posts
15
Years
Chapter Three - El Mundo de los Sueños

Chapter3.png

El Mundo de los Sueños

"Why do you think we hold the Ever Grande Conference, Ren?" Steven asked at length.

Ren frowned. He would have thought that the answer to that question was simple. "Uh . . . to find out who's the strongest Trainer in Hoenn?" he ventured.

"Yes," Steven agreed, "but at the same time, it's far more than that."

"What . . . what exactly do you mean by that?"

Steven took a deep breath and interlaced his fingers in front of him on the table, staring at them intently as if expecting them to answer for him. "What if I were to say to you, Ren . . . that there is a hidden factor determining how successful each person is as a Trainer?"

"I'd say you were mad," Ren said. "Sounds like one of those crazy video games where you don't know how anything's calculated – it just does it for you."

"Not so much," Steven said. "There's no math involved. Just . . . power, if you will."

"Power? What kind of power?" Ren felt himself being drawn in, despite his skepticism. Steven was making a face that was far too serious to doubt.

"That's just it. That's why this is so hard to explain. I . . . don't exactly know, Ren. But every Trainer – no, every person in this world has a measure of this power within them. I suppose you could call it a spiritual power, because it has nothing to do with physical strength or mental acuity. Sometimes you get muscle-headed imbeciles with huge reserves of this power; other times, the exact opposite. I'm at a loss as to which factors affect a person's spiritual power." He paused, as if waiting for Ren to react.

"Sounds . . . confusing," Ren offered, unwilling to give away too much of what he was thinking. A multitude of possibilities, explanations and worries were running through his mind at high speed, but he didn't feel like letting Steven be privy to them just yet. "So what does this power have to do with the Ever Grande Conference?"

"People will tell you that factors like age, experience, discipline, and the like determine who becomes a Champion, Ren. This is not true, and I am sure you, of all people, will be able to appreciate that. You came into this position at the age of just fourteen. By all rights, there is no way you should have been able to become Champion now. Yet you did."

"I did," Ren agreed. "But surely those things do matter, right? I mean, you get to be the Champion with a lot of hard work! It doesn't just . . . happen."

Steven inclined his head. "You're right. It doesn't 'just happen'. And there is some truth in what you say – things like how long you have trained with your Pokemon, research into your opponent's strengths and weaknesses, and your strategy in battle do make a difference."

"But that's not what you just said," Ren pointed out.

"Perhaps I am going in circles a little," Steven admitted. "What I mean is that while these factors play a large part in determining the winner of a Pokemon battle, that part is nowhere near as large as some would have you believe. What makes up the difference is something in here." He tapped his chest with his left index finger.

Ren looked at him askance. "What . . . you mean, like, friendship or something? I thought that was the kind of stuff that happened in kids' TV shows?"

Steven shook his head. "No, Ren. Nothing so intransient or idealistic. What I speak of is this spiritual power that resides within everyone. Imagine, if you will, a scale. The scale reads one to ten. Each human being is placed somewhere on that scale, and that number, to a certain extent, determines their success as a Pokemon Trainer, should they choose to follow that path. Of course, the scale is completely hypothetical – there is no way of measuring this power. I consider myself to stand at about nine point three, but this is only a rough estimate. And again, like I said before, you can have something else contributing to your success. Somebody with a 'score' of eight or higher might lack the willpower to persevere in their goals. They might not be quite quick enough to make the split-second decisions that are required to make or break a Pokemon battle. Do you follow what I'm saying, Ren?"

"Yeah, I think so," Ren said, nodding his head slowly. "In other words, whether we're going to be a good Pokemon Trainer or not . . . is predetermined?"

"To an extent, yes," Steven admitted. "I've thought long and hard about the philosophical ramifications of this, and I would greatly enjoy discussing that with you, but here is not the place. Back to the point: each person has this power, and their Pokemon will react to it accordingly."

"The Pokemon can sense this power?" Ren asked, surprised. "So, what . . . they see that their Trainer has this power and work harder?

"Not as such. Perhaps it would make more sense if I compared your Pokemon to plants. A plant, in normal soil – say, in your backyard – will grow well, provided it is cared for. You can make it grow higher by watering it regularly, keeping pests away from it, and protecting it from harsh wind and rain. Pokemon are much the same. You look after them, care for them, train them, and they will grow strong. Are you with me so far?"

Ren nodded. "Makes sense, I guess. I never really thought of it like that, but . . . Pokemon are a lot like plants, aren't they? And I don't mean just the Grass-types-"

"Focus!" Steven said sharply. "Now, tell me what happens if you decide to grow your plant in, say, the vicinity of Mount Chimney?"

"It . . . grows better?"

"Because?"

"Because of . . . the minerals in the soil, or something? It's been a while since I read any books on Geography."

"Right. In other words, your plant will grow bigger because its environment is more conducive to growth. Provided you then water it properly and so on like you do its counterpart in your garden, it will turn out much larger and healthier, even though you treated it the same. Do you understand now?"

Suddenly, Ren did, although he was still having trouble attaching any form of credence to Steven's story. "Yeah . . . if a Pokemon's Trainer has a high level of – what did you call it? – spiritual power, it's like growing the plant in volcanic soil, right? And then it gets stronger more easily, yeah?"

"Correct!" Steven exclaimed, beaming. "I didn't really expect you to catch on so quickly, I'll admit. Not that I think you're slow, or anything like that, but I am unused to dealing with those younger than me."

"No hard feelings," said Ren, offering Steven a half-smile. "But I'm still taking everything you say with a pinch of salt, I'm afraid."

"That's to be expected. I would begin to doubt the wisdom of telling you this if you believed it all instantly. However, I do have proof to back up what I'm saying, which I will show you soon enough. All I desired was to ensure you did not panic when faced with that evidence," Steven said darkly.

Ren said nothing. What Steven said sounded crazy, yes, but he couldn't help believing him just a little bit. Steven Stone was not the sort of person to play jokes; Ren had gathered as much from the few encounters he had had with the man.

"Very well. In any case . . . this all leads back to the Ever Grande Conference. This contest is held annually in order to discover the person in each region who has the highest spiritual power. This has been going on for many decades, and there is a very good reason behind it, but that will become apparent soon enough. What is important is that you have defeated me, Ren. Do you understand what that means?"

Ren's eyes widened involuntarily. All throughout Steven's explanation, he had completely forgotten to apply what had been said to himself. He slapped himself mentally for the oversight. Steven had been trying to tell him something the whole time, and he had missed it completely.

"Yes, Ren. It means that you are currently the person in the Hoenn region with the highest spiritual power. You are the most volcanic of the volcanic soil, if that makes any sense. The legacy of the Hoenn League is now yours."

"Was this all some elaborate way of handing over the Championship?" Ren asked, suddenly confused again.

"Essentially, yes, but it was not for any idle purpose that I explained all of this to you. For now, I believe, we are done, actually. Unless you have any further questions?"

"Hundreds," Ren said.

"Many of them will have to wait," Steven said, "but go ahead. I will answer as best I can."

"Why is this important? For now, I'll take your word that I won the Championship because of this 'spiritual power'. Why is it so important that the Champion is someone with high spiritual power?"

"I think you are still mistaking the purpose of the League," Steven said, smiling. "The Pokemon League was founded in order to find the strongest person in the region, for a very specific purpose. It was never to find the strongest for the sake of knowing who the strongest was. The annual boxing tournament is held to discover the best boxer in Hoenn. The biennial Dewford Surfing Extravaganza is held to find out who can ride the best wave. The Pokemon League is held so that Hoenn has a Champion. And Hoenn needs a Champion, Ren. They need the strongest Champion they can get, and at the moment, that's you."

"Why?"

"That, Ren, is what must be explained later. Take this." From inside his shirt, Steven fished out a small, silver pendant, which he unclasped from around his neck and handed to Ren.

Ren examined it closely. It hung on a silver chain as fine as thread, a chain that looked like it should break if he touched it. The chain pooled gently in his hand, cautiously supporting the emblem that sat atop it. Attached to the chain by a single, delicate ring, it was about the size of Ren's thumbnail, carved intricately into the likeness of a cloud. Or was it a puff of smoke? The shape seemed to billow and flicker as he looked upon it, although when he blinked, hard, and looked at it again, he was quite sure that it was motionless. "What . . . is this?"

"It is the Dreamlight," Steven said solemnly. "It must remain around your neck at all times now, Champion."

"Looks awfully fragile," Ren said worriedly as he drew out the gossamer-like chain and looped it around his neck, bringing the tiny, delicate clasp around to the front so he could see it while he tied it. Suddenly, he paused. "Why do I have to wear this?"

"It is a symbol that you are the Champion," Steven said, "and to all who may ask, it is nothing more than this! Do you understand?" he pressed.

Ren nodded. "But . . . it's something more?" he ventured.

"Yes, of course. It is what will guide you to a further explanation. I have told you all that I am permitted to tell you for now. For the rest of the story, all you need to do is go to sleep any time after sundown."

"Go . . . to sleep?" Ren asked skeptically as he did the clasp up and settled the Dreamlight beneath his shirt. It felt cold against his skin, but pleasantly so. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Steven shook his head. "Sadly, I may say no more. When you go to sleep tonight, you must wear the Dreamlight. This will lead you to your answers."

Ren closed his eyes for a moment before standing up and pacing around the room, looking at the barren walls and featureless ceiling. "I don't like it," he said eventually. "I don't like it at all. You want to know why I don't like it? Because it sounds like a fantasy. Something I'd read in a book. Normally, that would be cool, but . . . you telling me this suggests one of two things."

"Firstly, I'm pulling your leg," Steven supplied, examining one of the fingers on his left hand. "Secondly, there's something huge going on that you can't comprehend. In either case, you feel threatened. If I'm making fun of you, then the joke is on you, and nobody likes that. You fear ending up as the fool. If, on the other hand, I am telling the truth, you instantly find yourself far out of your depth, facing the unknown, and that is what you fear most. Am I right?"

"Exactly," said Ren. "I don't get how, but you're right."

"It's not too hard," said Steven, abruptly standing and crossing the room to stand directly in front of Ren. Gripping the boy by the shoulders, he looked him straight in the eye and said, "Because that's exactly what went through my head when I was told about this six years ago."

Ren shuddered deeply. Something in Steven's light blue eyes worried him. He couldn't explain what it was, but there was no doubt that it was nothing good. Steven apparently felt the tremor, as he gave Ren a comforting pat on the shoulder before he released him.

"Tell you what. We've still got some time, and there's no sense talking about this any more. Let's go and find something to do in Rustboro for the afternoon."

"But . . . I have more questions!" Ren protested.

"No, you don't. Ask them to . . . well, the person who will explain the rest of this to you."

"But you haven't even told me who that is!"

"It doesn't matter. You will meet them tonight. I told you – all you have to do is go to sleep with the Dreamlight on. For now, difficult though it may seem, I'm going to have to ask you to put everything I have just said out of your mind."

"What? You want me to . . . just forget about it?"

"Essentially, yes."

"What was the point of telling me in the first place, then?"

"I told you," Steven said. "It's so that you don't panic when the truth is revealed."

"Why don't you just tell me?" Ren asked, his left hand involuntarily balling into a fist. "Wouldn't that be the sensible thing?"

"It is . . . forbidden." Steven looked down at the floor.

"Forbidden? Who forbade it?" Ren ground his teeth slightly. This is getting ridiculous.

"I . . . can't tell you that, either," Steven said. "Can you please just do as I ask? This is difficult for me also."

"Fine," Ren said in disgust, folding his arms. "If you're going to be too bloody-minded to just tell me what's going on, then whatever."

"Excellent," said Steven, pointedly ignoring Ren's petulant frown. "And although I hardly feel you need to be reminded of this, everything that was said in this room remains here. You must not speak of it to anybody else unless I say so. Understood?"

Ren nodded. Who would he tell, anyway? It sounded like a load of rubbish, anyway. Spiritual power? Who did Steven think he was kidding? But still, it didn't make sense if Steven was joking. After all, why would he? There was no good reason for him to, and that was the fact that Ren could not deny. He only wished Steven would answer his questions a bit more directly.

"In that case, let us return to the library and collect your cousin," Steven said, unlocking the door. "I imagine she will be pleased enough to be liberated from my sister's dreary company."

"She didn't seem that dreary to me," Ren said as he followed Steven out of the meeting room.

"Oh, she is, I'm afraid," Steven said wearily. "Of course, I wouldn't ever say it to her face, but spending time with her is . . . taxing."

"How so?"

"She likes her books, Katrina. She doesn't do people well. It's hard to explain, but . . . having her in the room immediately puts something of a damper on one's mood. It's like she emanates waves of 'I don't want to be here, I don't want to talk to you' that rub off on everyone else."

"That's not very nice," Ren frowned. And this is the girl studying anthropology? he wondered. "She can't be all that bad, surely?"

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Steven said. "I'm very fond of her. But I wouldn't really want to spend too much time with her."

Ren didn't say anything. What could he have said to that?

"Katrina!" Steven said brightly, pushing open the library door. "We're done!"

"Oh, hello, Steven," Katrina's voice said from somewhere among the shelves. "We're over here, by the biographies."

Steven raised his eyebrows at Ren, then tilted his head to indicate that they should both go. The pair made their way carefully through the hazardous-looking maze of loaded bookshelves until they finally spotted Natasha and Katrina, sitting cross-legged on the floor amongst a multitude of books.

"You didn't take as long as you said you were going to," Katrina said, raising her eyebrows. "I don't think it's even been half an hour yet."

"No, you're right," Steven said, "but nonetheless, we have finished our . . . business."

"Well, that's all right. I'll see you around some other time, Natasha," Katrina smiled.

Natasha looked up at Ren curiously. "Why are you back so fast? I was having fun!"

Ren smiled. "We finished talking about what we needed to, so we're done. Come on, let's not bother Katrina any more than we have to."

"Oh, it's no trouble, really," Katrina said, waving a hand airily. "She's a remarkably intelligent child."

"Can't I stay a bit longer?" Natasha begged.

"Actually, if Katrina doesn't mind, that works out perfectly," said Steven. "Ren and I have somewhere else to be, and if you want to stay here for another couple of hours, I don't see an issue with that."

"Somewhere else to be?" Ren said blankly. "Like where?"

"Did I not mention it? You and I are appearing on tonight's Hoenn Buzz to be interviewed."

"No!" Ren exclaimed. "You did not mention that! And I want nothing to do with it!" he fumed. It was bad enough that people had to recognise him wherever he went, but any measure of anonymity he might have retained would surely be destroyed if he appeared on primetime television.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Steven said. "I made the arrangements this morning and they've been hyping it all day via advertisements. Two Champions on TV together is not something that happens often, and you're not getting out of it."

"You can't just go ahead and make decisions like that on your own! I don't want to be on TV!"

Steven gritted his teeth. "Newsflash, Ren: you're going to have to get used to it. The Champion is a media personality as much as he is anything else." As if suddenly noticing that Natasha and Katrina were still listening, wide-eyed, from their position on the floor, he inclined his head to them politely. "My apologies. Ren and I will be leaving now. We will return later this evening to collect his cousin." With that, he wheeled and strode from the library, leaving Ren to follow him reluctantly.

Once the door to the library had closed, Ren stepped in front of Steven and glared at him. "What the hell are you playing at?" he hissed. "I can't do this! I don't want to do this!"

Steven's mouth remained set in a firm line. "You have no choice in the matter. It is your responsibility as a Champion to be accessible to the people of Hoenn, and you have to learn to do that whether you like it or not. I'll give you a hint – it's a lot easier if you like it."

"Steven, I can't! It's not like I can't walk down the street for fear of being recognised or anything, but this is just going too far."

"You're not getting out of it," Steven said adamantly. "Now come on. It's already four o'clock, and we need to be there for five thirty."

Reluctantly, Ren followed Steven towards the lift, his heart sinking.


I wanted to smack my face in utter sadness at the end of the newest chapter. Stupid cliffhanger. Good way to end a chapter though. :D I really want the next chapter to be posted so I can read what happens. :D

I love all the questions Ren asks himself. It's interesting to read his "inner turmoil". Natasha is a great character and I hope she appears more often. (She's hilarious.) I didn't catch much spelling and grammar wise.
Sweet as. Thanks for reading! Have another cliffhanger! Well, sort of.
 
Last edited:

Bay

6,382
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Hm, interesting info about this "spiritual power" and I'm also curious about this Dreamlight too. The spiritual powers makes sense somewhat with the characters keep saying they feel a special bond between you and the Pokemon when playing the games. It did get kind of repetitive with Ren keep wanting to know more about it and Steven keep saying he can't say anything more about it, though.

Once the door to the library had closed, Ren stepped in front of Steven and glared at him. "What the hell are you playing at?" he hissed. "I can't do this! I don't want to do this!"

Steven's mouth remained set in a firm line. "You have no choice in the matter. It is your responsibility as a Champion to be accessible to the people of Hoenn, and you have to learn to do that whether you like it or not. I'll give you a hint – it's a lot easier if you like it."
This part makes me think there's more to that than Ren have to be "accessible" to everyone at Hoenn. Hm...

Chapter ended not really with a cliffhanger but with more questions that need answers, which is just as annoying to the reader. XD Looking forward to more developments of this story!
 
10,174
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  • Age 37
  • Seen yesterday
Hm, that spiritual power reminded me of something like it in the book I'm reading. Still, it's great to see something like that in a Pokemon fic. Like Bay said, it makes sense, since the games go on about the connection between the player and their Pokemon, and the player is only a young person. So it's interesting to see how an author explains that.

Wonder what the Dreamlight is about, and if that has anything to do with the "mood" the other characters were put in when they entered the Devon building. Looking forward to seeing just what Ren learns later tonight.

I do like that Ren was told (and forced) by Steven to enter the public's eye. Thinking that there's more of a reason why he needs to do so. And I wonder how else the spiritual power will come into play.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
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15
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Chapter Four - Televisión

OK, a bit more's happening now. Sorry for making you read what's essentially three chapters of dialogue. I'm gonna break form here and promise that 'sh*t gets real', as they say, across chapters five and six, which are waiting in the wings with seven and eight, all written up and ready to go at my whim.

Oh, and thanks for reviewing, guys! I'm not ignoring you, I promise.
It did get kind of repetitive with Ren keep wanting to know more about it and Steven keep saying he can't say anything more about it, though.
I did have trouble getting this scene to flow naturally, actually. :x Hope to remedy it sometime. Maybe when I have a buffer of a few chaptersOH WAIT I DO. XP


Chapter4.png

Televisión

Downstairs, Steven ushered the still-fuming Ren into a car not unlike the one that had brought him to Devon Corp. This time, however, Roxanne was nowhere to be seen. The car ride was silent, frostily so. Ren spent the journey looking moodily out the tinted window as Steven looked on, a slight twist of amusement in the set of his lips.

When the car finally rolled to a stop, Ren stepped out unwillingly. On the other side of the pavement stood a low metal fence, painted green, beyond which stretched a picturesque expanse of grass, dotted with trees and patches of flowers arranged in seemingly random patterns. Under a tree some distance into the park, people were dashing around frantically, setting up a table, chairs and an enormous array of cameras, microphones and portable computers. Leads were being run from the site to a van parked near where Ren was standing, and in the midst of it all was standing a man Ren recognised instantly: Richard Andrews, the host of Hoenn Buzz.

Steven stepped over the fence and beckoned Ren to do the same. As they approached the hubbub, Ren examined the man who he had seen so many times on television, interviewing hapless celebrities and smarmy politicians for the whole Hoenn region to see. Richard Andrews was a tall man with a healthy crop of black hair, tied back in a short ponytail. His skin was a dark olive tone, bringing out his green eyes and white teeth. As the two Trainers approached, Andrews was engaged in conversation with a very pretty young lady who looked vaguely familiar to Ren.

As Steven and Ren drew near, Andrews noticed them and strode towards them, beaming, with arms wide. He embraced Steven like an old friend. "Steven Stone, you old rascal! It's been a while since I had you on the show."

"Only since last year's Conference," Steven said, smiling. Ren was slightly taken aback by his genuineness as he slapped Andrews on the back.

"Far too long, old buddy! Far too long," Andrews said jovially, releasing Steven and approaching Ren. Ren instinctively took half a step back; he hadn't realised quite how tall Andrews was on television. The man was well over six feet tall. "This must be Mr. Goodwin, then?"

Ren nodded, before finding his voice. "Yes, Mr Andrews. Nice to meet you."

Andrews guffawed loudly, slapping Ren on the back with such force that he just about fell over. "You hear this kid? 'Mr Andrews'? Ha! You call me Richard, kid – everyone does! And I mean that."

"All right . . . Richard," Ren said, swallowing. It felt strange to be in the presence of such a recognisable figure.

"Good stuff! And it's a damn fine pleasure to meet you too, kid! Say, s'all good if I call you Ren, right?" Richard put out his hand, grinning.

Ren took it cautiously and just about had his arm pulled off as Richard shook it energetically. "That's fine," he said quietly.

"Right on! Now, if you'll excuse me, folks, I have to go make a phone call. Back in just a minute!" With that, he saluted Steven with two fingers and jogged off towards the van.

Ren blinked, quite overwhelmed. It was as if a hurricane had just torn through the area, leaving just as quickly as it had appeared.

Steven chuckled and patted Ren on the shoulder. "You get used to him soon enough," he said. "He's a good man, Richard. He's not just friendly because he's on TV all the time. That's just how he is with everybody."

"Really? He was certainly . . . energetic," Ren said. Now that Richard had moved on, he remembered where he was. The show was due to go live in little more than an hour.

"That's one word for it," Steven agreed. He seemed a little more cheerful than before.

"Steven Stone," said a teasing voice from Ren's left. "Are you going to keep ignoring me?"

The speaker turned out to be the attractive young woman Richard had been talking to when they arrived. She was tall and slim, with gently tanned skin and deep blue eyes. Her brown hair barely touched her shoulders, exhibiting tasteful blonde highlights. Steven smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Bella! So nice to see you! It's been a while."

"Hasn't it just? You must've been so busy lately! What have you been up to?"

"Ah, I'm sure you've heard," Steven said, scratching his head. "I was busy losing my title to this gentleman here. Ren, meet Bella Bianchi, singer, actress and a good friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," Ren said, nodding politely. He didn't feel up to cheek-kissing. He probably wouldn't be able to reach, in any case. "I . . . do believe I've heard of you."

"I would be surprised if you hadn't," Steven said. "Bella is one of the most prolific actors this year, for starters."

"Oh, come on, Steven. You can't expect everybody to know me!" Bella laughed. "But yes, that's me. Since I've had my introduction stolen from me, I'll have to settle for hearing yours." Her voice carried a slightly foreign lilt, pleasing to the ear.

"I'm . . . Ren Goodwin. Hoenn League Champion." With a start, Ren realised that it was the first time he had introduced himself with his new title. It felt strange, like it wasn't quite part of him yet.

"So I take it you're on the show tonight as well?" Steven addressed Bella.

Ren blinked, but quickly realised he was intruding. Nodding to Bella, he removed himself slightly and dropped onto a park bench, out of the way of the setup for the show. Already, he could see a few curious bystanders gathering around the border of the park. Hoenn Buzz was filmed with a live audience, no matter where it was broadcast from, he remembered. The thought of sitting in front of such a large group of people as the Champion was quite frightening; he had thought that being televised would be bad enough.

Yawning, Ren pushed his hands through his hair, messing it up even further. Although it wasn't as if he'd been up at the crack of dawn, it had still been a tiring day. He hoped he'd get to sleep before too long.

The Dreamlight was still cold against Ren's chest as he cast his mind back to his conversation with Steven. It had been pushed aside by the whirl of activity in the last forty-five minutes or so, but now it returned in full force, bringing with it all the confusion it had had before, and then some. Steven obviously expected something to happen when he went to sleep that night, but what, he had no idea. The only clue he had was the name of the pendant resting just below his collarbone – the Dreamlight. Was he going to have a dream? But that wouldn't tell him anything, surely. In his experience, dreams were notoriously unreliable informants. The last dream Ren remembered having was the one with the Glameow with an afro. The feline Pokemon had led him through a maze of candy canes and lollipops before finally turning on him and trying to eat him.

Yeah. Dreams don't make sense. They don't mean anything. What had Steven been talking about? As much as he hated the prospect, he was forced to resign himself to the fact that he was just going to have to suck it up and wait. He knew that it would nag at him all evening, but at the same time he knew that he had more pressing troubles to deal with. TV . . . I don't want to be on TV.

Ren wasn't a shy person by nature. He knew that. There was still, however, something painfully intimidating about exposing himself in such a way. Ever since he had become the Champion, he had suddenly become recognisable. It was only his third day holding the position, but the strain was already starting to become too much.

Was it a bad idea after all? Becoming the Champion had been a glittering, golden dream for years, always hovering at the edge of his consciousness, tempting and enticing him. But now that he had actually achieved it . . . was it actually worth it?

Ren saw no change in the future. If anything, it would get worse and worse. He was the Champion, and the Champion, as Steven had said, was as much a media personality as he was anything else. He would have to keep doing this. He would keep appearing on TV, and on the radio, and in newspapers. Sure, perhaps the hype would die down after a while, but it would always be there. He wouldn't be able to go out in public without being accosted by someone who recognised him, and he didn't think he could deal with that.

"Are you all right, Ren?" said a voice near his right ear. Ren jumped, his heart pounding.

"Jeez!" he exclaimed. "Don't do that!"

"Ah, I'm sorry." It was Bella Bianchi, Steven's movie star friend. "Were you thinking about something important? Should I leave?"

"A . . . little," Ren said. "And it's fine. I just wasn't paying attention."

"You seem a little distracted," Bella said, leaning back on the bench and stretching. Ren noticed that despite her impending TV appearance, she was dressed relatively casually, in a golden, sparkly top and black jeans. "Are you feeling all right?"

"I . . . what makes you think there's something wrong with me?" Ren didn't think that he had been looking particularly out of it. In fact, he had made sure to keep his face carefully neutral just to avoid this exact discussion with anyone who happened to pass by.

Bella smiled gently. "Ren, I've made a career out of putting on different faces at will and pretending to feel emotions I don't feel. After a while, it's not too hard to tell when someone else is doing the same."

"Oh," Ren said blankly. Glancing around, he added, "Where's Steven?"

"He's talking with Richard about the show," Bella said. She snapped her fingers playfully in front of Ren's face. "But hey! Stop trying to distract me. What's wrong with you? There's obviously something."

Ren took a deep breath, trying to decide how to put it into words, and indeed, whether he even should. He'd only just met Bella, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to burden her with his problems. Still, it'd be nice to tell someone other than Steven, he reasoned. He couldn't rely on the ex-Champion for sympathy. "I suppose . . . it's just that I'm not used to all of this," he said, waving his hand at the milieu of TV cameras and rapidly growing group of curious members of the public.

"It's the same for everyone who comes into some kind of fame," Bella said. "It's especially hard for those who become famous overnight."

"I can imagine that," Ren said. "Still, that doesn't make it any easier to swallow now. I still feel so lost when somebody stops me and says 'Hey, you're that new Champion kid!' I just start to panic . . ."

"I see," said Bella, tapping her chin with a manicured finger. "Tell me . . . how do you deal with it at the moment?"

"Well, it's only happened a few times so far," Ren said. "Mostly I just smile and try to get away from them as quickly as I can without being rude. If they want an autograph or something, I'll sign it, but it's just hard to not freak out."

"When I started getting a bit more well-known, it was much the same for me. Soon, though, I realised that I couldn't just run away from everybody."

"I know that!" Ren said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But still, when I think about getting up on TV and talking to Richard . . . it makes me feel sick."

"Haven't you done some of this already? Interviews and such, I mean?"

"Well, yeah," Ren admitted. "But it was just with reporters, or for five minutes on a radio talk show. Then there was that one press conference, but Steven did all the talking there. It was bad, but . . . this is something else. This is TV. This is everybody."

"That's what Richard's job is, though. He understands how you feel about this, and he'll make it easy for you. He'll start off with some easy questions, and then build it up a little bit at a time. He's really good at making people feel comfortable when they're in the chair. And Steven will be there with you as well, I understand. He won't leave you high and dry."

"It's not like I have stage fright or anything! Or . . . at least, I don't think so. It's more . . . the concept of it that bothers me. A little voice in my head is sitting there and asking 'Do these people really have nothing better to do than fawn over someone they saw on TV?'. I know it's horrible, but it's really bothering me. I feel like . . . I'm being turned into an object. Like I'm not going to be a person any longer if I keep it up. Do you know what I mean?"

Bella nodded slowly. "I think I actually do see now. And it makes it easier, if anything. When people are just scared of being in the public eye, it can take ages to get over. I've seen it in other people in my line of work. But when your problem is that loss of individuality . . . well, it's a far more serious problem with a far simpler solution."

"Really? There's something I can do?" Ren asked eagerly.

She laughed lightly. "Yep. All you have to do is give it a little while. It might sound hard, but just go with it for a few weeks. Throw yourself into every challenge you come up against, heart and soul. That way, you don't forget who you are. Your problem is that you've let what you think other people think about you affect what you actually think about yourself."

"I . . . don't follow," Ren said, blinking. "What I think . . . what?"

"Maybe that was a bit confusing," Bella admitted. "Basically, what I mean is that you're not looking at people's impressions of you. You're making assumptions based on what they say to you, and that's colouring your impression of how they view you. To them, you're still a person, even if you're a strange one. A kid as the Champion? It hasn't happened for a while, so naturally you're a fascination. But you're not an object. OK?"

Ren wished it was. "I see what you mean, but . . . I doubt it'll make a difference. I mean, I'll try, but . . . I'm somehow not convinced. I'm sorry."

"No worries. All you have to do is keep thinking about it, OK? I think you can get over this really easily. I won't push you, but just think about it, yeah?"

". . . Yeah. Thanks, Bella."

"Aha!" she said triumphantly, standing up and tapping him on the nose. "Gotcha!"

"Huh? What? What did I do?"

"You called me by my name," she said happily. "You hadn't done that yet!"

"Ah . . . didn't I? I'm sorry."

"Oh, stop apologising for everything, Ren," she said. "You're going to get all wrinkly if you keep frowning like that."

"Um . . . sor- I mean – I see. All right." Stretching, he stood up and took a deep breath. Although the air was cool, the sun was still quite high, showing through the buildings, dead west along the main street.

"Smile!" Bella said brightly. "I know you can, and you're not going to have any fun tonight if you keep worrying."

Ren tried to draw his lips into some semblance of a grin, but it still felt unnatural and a bit awkward. "You're being awfully nice to me," he said. "Why's that?"

"You looked down. What more reason do I need?" Bella smiled and spun around on the spot, looking up at the sky. "I think you and I could be friends, Ren. What do you think?"

"I . . . think that could be nice," said Ren, and with the admission came a realisation. It had been a long time since he'd had anyone he could call a friend. Sure, he had met hundreds of Trainers on his quest to become Champion. Some of them had been bad sorts, others good. Some had travelled together with him for a period of time, but that couldn't last forever. Friends had come and gone over the last five years, but none with any permanence had appeared. "I'd like that."

***

"Hey, hey, Hoenn! This is your man Richard Andrews and this . . . is Hoenn Buzz! Tonight, we're coming to you live from the picturesque Rustboro City, and man, have I got a lineup for you! First up on the show tonight we have Hoenn's favourite diva, the star of the upcoming blockbuster One Flew Over the Swellow's Nest. She also has three singles in this week's Top 40, including one that's charting in Johto and Unova as well. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you . . . Bella Bianchi!"

Ren watched in awe as Bella strode confidently in front of the cameras, laughing and waving as if the audience were old friends. She seemed so natural, so at home, as Richard stood up and bowed dramatically. She took her seat on one of the large red chairs set up next to Richard's desk, and the interview began – except that it didn't so much feel like an interview as it did a casual conversation.

She was masterful. Bella Bianchi played the scene with ease and grace, laughing at Richard's jokes and keeping the momentum going for the full fifteen minutes she was on the stage. When she finally left, blowing a cheeky kiss towards the cameras, the audience applauded wildly. "Game face on!" she whispered in Ren's ear as she passed. His mind was blank as he vaguely registered what Richard was saying.

"We're going to break for commercials now, ladies and gentlemen, but don't go anywhere, because right after this, I am bringing you Steven Stone – until recently, the Hoenn League Champion – and the gentleman who toppled him from that position, Ren Goodwin!" After the cameras cut out, Richard bounded out from behind his desk and hustled over to where Steven and Ren were waiting, out of the cameras' range. "All ready to go, guys?"

Steven nodded. "I'm ready." He seemed completely unfazed. "Ren?"

Ren took a deep, shaky breath. "I th- yeah. Yeah, I'm ready."

"Jeez, don't blow me away with your enthusiasm, guys!" Richard laughed. "Nah, I'm just screwing with ya. Let's get this on. I'll cue you on after the introduction, alright?" With that, he hurried back to his desk again.

It was a quarter to six, and the sun was starting to creep towards the horizon, but the orange-tinged rays were still falling straight down the main street, offering plenty of light, and technicians were standing by with extra lighting just in case. The two red chairs were adjusted, and the producer counted down the seconds until the show went live again. The cameras started rolling again, and at a cue Ren couldn't see, the audience rose to their feet, applauding enthusiastically as Richard took a deep breath and shuffled his papers before finally opening his mouth to speak.
 
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Bay

6,382
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17
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In his experience, dreams were notoriously unreliable informants. The last dream Ren remembered having was the one with the Glameow with an afro. The feline Pokemon had led him through a maze of candy canes and lollipops before finally turning on him and trying to eat him.
That dream cracked me up, LOL.

I actually like the conversation between Bella and Ren. Already I'm liking her as a character. :3 It's very nice that the two will be friends. And I have to agree with Richard being enthusiastic there.

Ack, sorry for the short review. D: I'm sure though the next chapter will be great, so hopefully my next review will be better, haha.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
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15
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Chapter Five - Y Ahora, Algo un Poco Mágico

Glad you liked the dream sequence, Bay. I'm sure you didn't think it was just a throwaway statement, though. XP

and yes d'aww Bella and Ren

Chapter5.png

Y Ahora, Algo un Poco Mágico

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Steven Stone and Ren Goodwin!" Richard exclaimed, flinging his arm out dramatically towards where Ren and Steven were standing. Ren froze for a moment, until Steven elbowed him and the pair made their way onto the stage. The noise of the crowd somehow overwhelmingly loud despite its relatively small size, Ren stumbled and almost fell on the hastily cobbled-together steps up to the temporary stage. Richard welcomed them with a smile as they sat down in the enormous red chairs; Steven subtly pushed Ren towards the one closest to Richard.

"Well, this doesn't happen often!" Richard said, laughing. "Two Champions at the same time! On
my show? Wahoo! Two for the price of one!"

Ren smiled despite himself. Maybe . . . just maybe, this wouldn't be so hard after all.


"Alright, alright," Richard said, quieting the crowd with a wave. "Can't hear myself think! Now, Steven Stone is the man everyone knows, so you get away with just a brief introduction. Until recently, Champion of the Hoenn League. Twenty-six years old, born and raised here in Rustboro. Likes Steel-type Pokemon, chocolate brownies, precious stones and taking long walks on the beach near Petalburg. Sound about right?"


"I don't know where you get the part about the beach from, Richard, but the rest is right enough."


"Eh, I just made it up. But we'll get back to you in a minute, Stevie boy. Right now, Hoenn is buzzing about this young man right here! Ren Goodwin, everybody!" The audience applauded again, and Ren resisted the urge to fiddle with the microphone on his collar. He had had his hair dealt with before the show, but he was still dressed in the same jeans and T-shirt.
Game face on, he told himself. Game face. "So, an easy one to start with. How old are you, Ren?"

"I'm . . . fourteen."


"Fourteen! That's seriously impressive, my man. That's almost record-breaking stuff, right there. The youngest Hoenn League Champion ever was thirteen, if I recall rightly, but that was decades ago! You're the man of the moment right now, Ren. So tell me . . . how does it feel? Has it sunk in yet?"


Ren winced inwardly. So much for starting it out easy – Richard had thrown him a curveball right off the bat. "I think . . . it's sunk in as much as it's going to, Richard," he said. "I've had a few days to settle into it, and . . . although I'm still not quite sure whether it's a dream or not, I feel pretty good right about now." He was answering on autopilot, he realised as the audience laughed. He was saying what they wanted to hear, even if it was more or less true.


"Well, that's fantastic! I'd be pretty stoked myself if I beat the Champion, so I'd be surprised if you weren't. Good to see it's not gone to your head, though. Folks, I've had the opportunity to chat with Ren for a few minutes before the show, and I can tell ya, he's a real genuine kid. Awesome guy. Where ya from, Ren?"


"I grew up in Slateport, but I was born in Unova," Ren said. "We moved when I was just a few months old."


"Any particular reason?" Richard asked.


"Ah . . . for Dad's work. He's a lawyer, so he could have made it anywhere, but he decided we should move to Hoenn. I don't know too much about it, to be honest. It doesn't really come up in conversation." The discussion was straying into dangerous territory, and Ren made an effort to steer it back on course. "Slateport is all I've ever known, so I consider it home."


"Good to hear, kid! We love a Champion with some regional loyalty, don't we, folks? In any case . . . Steven! Your turn!" He made a gun with his fingers and fired at Steven dramatically. Playing it up, Steven clutched his chest and fell back in his chair with a groan. Ren tried not to laugh at the normally stoic Steven as Richard faked panic and concern. "Oh, damn it, I've gone and killed our ex-Champion! Don't arrest me, don't arrest me!" The audience loved it, although for Ren, the humour was starting to wear off already.


"I'm fine, Richard," Steven said, sitting back up and adjusting his collar. "What was your question? I'd say 'fire away', but at the risk of incurring more projectiles . . ."


"What everybody wants to know, Steven Stone. The battle! How did it feel to lose the title you've held for six whole years? We all watched it on TV, but we want to know what was going on inside your head."


"To tell the truth, Richard . . . I don't mind so much. In all my time as Champion, my greatest fear – probably my only fear – was that I would lose to a challenger who was unworthy of the title of Champion, but that's a non-issue with Ren. I feel comfortable handing my title over to him."


"Uh-huh. But tell me, Steven – what now? What do you think you'll be doing with yourself now that you're no longer the Champion?" Ren thought he saw Steven's jaw tighten, but it was no more than a momentary impression.


"I'm . . . not so sure, actually," Steven said quietly. "Now I'll have some free time to work on my research into Hoenn's geology. But in terms of long-term plans . . . nothing, really."


"Ooh, do I detect a hint of uncertainty in the man of steel?" Richard teased. "Ladies and gentlemen, Steven Stone!" The audience applauded again, just as Ren felt himself beginning to numb to the constant noise.


"Before we finish up, though, I want to ask a couple more questions. Firstly, one for Ren – what lies ahead for you? Steven's taking a break to work on his rock collection, but what do you think you'll be doing?"


"I . . . don't know either," Ren said. "I'm still not entirely sure what a Champion has to do, so I'll be looking to Steven for help on that one."


"Well, our previous Champion has plenty of experience, so I'm sure you'll be fine. You know, it's uncommon for a Champion to last more than a couple of years, especially one who specialises in a single type. The longest-serving Champion currently active is the Sinnoh region's Cynthia, who has held the title for eight years. And that brings me to my next question. Back to Steven for a moment – it's not unheard of for toppled Champions to seek a new title in other regions. Do you think that's something you could do?"


"It certainly sounds plausible," Steven admitted. "I'd have to collect a whole new set of Gym badges, though."


"Oh, come on, it couldn't be that hard! You made it all the way through the Hoenn League, and I don't imagine you were just chilling out all that time you were Champion. You're still one of the toughest trainers in the Hoenn region!"


"That may be so, Richard, but I feel my competitive days are behind me. I'll make sure to keep battling, though. That's one thing I'm sure of. I don't think I'll be retiring any time soon."


Richard laughed along with the audience. "Well, that's good to hear, Steven, my man. Now, we're almost out of time, but before we go – Ren! Tell me . . . do you have some sort of secret to your victory? A motto or some advice you can share with us? Hoenn's buzzin'!"


Ren thought about it for a moment. He almost considered using Steven's plant metaphor, but realised it would be too risky. Also, he didn't quite remember all of it, so he'd be likely to make a fool of himself if he tried to recite it. "Not as such. Just . . . I know it's been said a thousand times, but that's probably because it's true: if you keep trying and refuse to back down, you'll get where you're going in the end."


"All right! There you have it, ladies and gentlemen! Steven Stone and Ren Goodwin, our Champions old and new. I can hear Hoenn buzzin'! Till next time, folks!"


The audience rose to its feet in applause one last time, and Ren waited until the producer gave the all-clear signal before he collapsed back into the voluminous depths of his squashy red chair, his heart racing. Somehow, it seemed, he had managed to hold off the panic throughout the show. It had been over faster than he expected, but nonetheless, he was exhausted.


"Good stuff, kid!" Richard crowed as he practically leapt out from behind his desk to shake Ren by the hand. "Nice job for a first time on the show! Ever been on TV before?"


Ren shook his head blankly, suddenly incapable of speech. The audience was beginning to filter off in different directions, leaving behind only a block of white plastic chairs that some of the stage hands were already stacking up and loading into a truck that Ren hadn't seen before. The cameras were being folded up and packed into the van that was parked next to Steven's limousine.


"Well, you did fine, Ren," Steven said. "Good job."


"Thanks. Just don't spring something like that on me again."


"Oh, it'll happen," Steven said wryly. "You're a popular young man, now. Richard," he said, turning to address the big man. "A pleasure being on the show as always."


"Ah, we'll get you back sometime soon, Stevie boy. Milk it for all it's worth. Sorry it was such a short segment tonight. We already had Bella booked in, and we weren't able to reschedule at such short notice. She graciously agreed to take a fifteen-minute slot instead of the full half-hour, and it was too good of an opportunity to miss. Oh, damn it," he muttered suddenly, looking at his watch. "I have to run. Sorry, guys! Nice to have you on the show!" He dashed off without waiting for a reply.


"Well, that's that, then," Steven said. Ren noticed that he seemed to have returned to his quiet, serious demeanour of earlier. "Shall we go?"


"I suppose so," Ren said. "Hey, where's Bella?"


"I'm pretty sure she had to leave early, too," Steven said. "Celebrities are busy people, aren't they?"


"Yeah," Ren agreed. "Tonight was . . . pretty hectic."


"You did do well, Ren," Steven said suddenly as they started off toward the car. "I wasn't just saying that for Richard's benefit. I was a little afraid at one point that you were going to freak out on me, but you handled it well for your first time. And in fact, it was probably good that we got a short slot. Warm you up to it a bit at a time, and so on."


"I'm . . . going to have to get used to this after all, aren't I?" Ren said.


Steven nodded regretfully. "I'm sorry, but you are. But the sooner you accept that, the sooner you're going to grow accustomed to it."


"Oh, I've accepted it," Ren said unenthusiastically as he climbed into Steven's limousine. "I just don't like it."


"That's the spirit."


After they drove back to Devon Corp and picked up Natasha, Steven made arrangements for the two of them to be accommodated at a hotel owned by the corporation. He wanted to put them in the fanciest five-star establishment in town, but Ren declined politely, preferring slightly less ostentatious accommodation. He had, after all, spent the last five years sleeping under the stars and in Pokemon Centers.


So as a result, he found himself tucking Natasha into a single bed at the Sundown Hotel before dropping into his own, fully clothed. His cousin had retained her unusual quietness from earlier, dropping off to sleep with barely a word after a quick dinner at the hotel's café bar. It was slightly unnerving, to say the least, but, he reasoned, he should deal with it in the morning. Right at that moment, he was too tired to even see what his hotel room looked like. As he felt sleep begin to claim him, he remembered what Steven had been telling him about earlier. He hadn't exactly forgotten, but it had certainly taken a back seat to the pressure of the evening. Sighing deeply, Ren closed his eyes, slightly apprehensive, but at the same time extremely curious.


The Glameow is back. That horrid creature, with its bushy black head of hair, struts along in front of him with a swing in its step, its tail flicking from side to side. Ren doesn't know why, but he follows it again, through the maze of oversized confectionery.

Through the gaps in the walls of candy, he thinks he glimpses a familiar face, but he blinks and it is gone. All that remains is the little blue Pokemon and its curly tail, mewing innocently as it looks back to check he is following. Ren continues pursuing it, even though he knows it will only turn on him before they reach the exit of the maze.

Abruptly, the Glameow makes a sharp left turn, its afro bobbing. The passages are narrower now, and Ren struggles to keep up with the Pokemon. He turns sideways and shuffles through a gap, only to find that the Glameow has disappeared.

Suddenly alert, he glances all around him, searching for the foul creature, but it is nowhere to be seen. He backs up against a lollipop for support, but his hair sticks to the gooey, sugary confection and he finds himself unable to move.

A yowl and a hiss above him. Ren wrenches his head upwards as far as possible and sees Afro Glameow leaping towards him, little fangs bared and claws out. Time slows down as the world goes dark. The giant sweets disappear, leaving only the sticky feeling on the back of Ren's head. Everything is black. There is no floor, no walls, no sky. Only Ren, and Afro Glameow.

Struggling against the sticky substance holding him in place, Ren feels it give slightly. Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, he yanks his head forward, collapsing to the ground and hissing in pain as some of his hair is yanked out. There is no time to spare though, as he rolls and stands up again, watching Afro Glameow miss its target and land comfortably on all four paws.

Afro Glameow stretches luxuriously, as if it has all the time in the world. It turns to Ren slowly, seeming to grin as it shows its tiny, razor-sharp fangs again. Ren reflexively lifts his hands in front of his face to protect himself as it lunges towards him.

A flash of light, and Afro Glameow screeches and disappears. Wincing, Ren looks around for the source of the light, and finds it shining from a square opening above him. A hand reaches out from the opening. Awed, Ren reaches out and takes the hand. He feels himself being pulled . . .


"Whoa." Ren found himself in another dark place. Unlike the candy maze, however, there was some faint light seeping in under the curtains.


Wait . . . curtains?
Ren sat up and glanced around. From what he could see, he was back in his hotel room. "Did I . . . wake up?" he whispered.

"Nope," said a cheerful voice from the end of his bed. "You're still dreaming."


Ren jumped, his heart hammering. "Who the hell-" Fumbling around in the dark, he found the light switch next to his bed and turned it on. There was a girl sitting casually on his bed. She was dressed in black leather that looked extremely tight, adorned with silver buckles and clips at seemingly random intervals. Her hair was black and straight, cut neatly a little shorter than shoulder-length. She seemed to be about his age, with slim, elfin features and an amused grin. "What are you doing in my hotel room?" he asked.


"This isn't your hotel room, Ren," the girl said. "You're still asleep."


"It sure looks like my hotel room," he said, taking another look around. There was the TV, the kitchen, the ensuite bathroom, the other bed, neatly made and clearly not slept in.
What? "Where's Natasha?" he demanded. His cousin was nowhere to be seen.

"Who?" The girl's smile slipped slightly.


"My cousin! She was in the other bed. What have you done with her? And damn it, what are you doing in my room?"


The girl frowned, and Ren thought he felt a shadow fall over the room. "I thought Steven was going to tell you about this so you didn't freak out on me. Don't tell me he just gave you the Dreamlight without explaining anything."


Suddenly, Ren remembered what he had been expecting when he fell asleep. "So . . . I am dreaming, after all?"


"Duh."


"It feels . . . awfully real. I don't
feel asleep."

The girl rolled her eyes. "You want proof? Fine. Here." She snapped her fingers, and Ren's hotel room melted away into a milieu of liquid colour. When the scene resolved itself once more, she was sitting behind Richard Andrews' desk on the temporary stage that had been set up in the park. Ren found himself back in the same red chair he had been in before, but there was no Steven Stone next to him, no audience in front of him. Just him, and the girl.


Another snap, and suddenly Ren was back in his room at home, sitting on his bed while the girl peered out the window curiously. "Hmm. Nice view, here. This your house?"


Ren nodded speechlessly. The girl gave an appreciative murmur and snapped her fingers again. He was standing in the arena at Ever Grande City, in the same place he had stood when he challenged Steven to become League Champion. A heavy wind blew through the stadium, kicking up a dust cloud, just as it had three days ago during the battle. The girl was standing in Steven's box at the other end of the field. When she spoke, though, he could hear her voice as clearly as if she were right in front of him. "I see your memories, Ren. I can pass through your mind at will and see what you have seen, recreating it effortlessly."


"That's . . . kind of weird," he said.


"Weird? No." Suddenly, the girl was standing next to him again. "This is the power of dreams."


"I don't understand." He didn't. He didn't understand anything. What Steven had said was making less sense now, not more. "Who are you? Where is this, really?"


"It's as you see it," the girl said, the barest hint of a laugh in her voice. "We're in Ever Grande City, at the Pokemon League. It's just as you remember it, isn't it?"


"Not exactly. I remember there being a lot more people," Ren said.


"They're not here because we're not in their dream. We're in yours, and so you are the only person allowed in here."


"If that's the case, how did you get in here? Which brings me back to my other question – who are you?"


"I said you were the only
person allowed in here. I'm not a person, so I'm exempt from that."

"Then what are you?"


"I'm a spirit," the girl said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.


"What, like a ghost?" Ren asked blankly. "Did you die?"


"Not as such. More to the point, I never existed in the first place. Not in your world, at least. I came into existence here, in the world of dreams. My purpose is . . . to protect this world, and yours. And now, that's your purpose, too."


"I . . . don't understand."


The girl sighed. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

~~~~~

And this, folks, is where stuff starts to get real. This is starting to become what I envisioned when I first dreamt this fic up. This is what Champion Game is all about. Also, next chapter it starts to earn its M-rating.
 
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Markus1992

Azura
23
Posts
12
Years
Wow...

This story is really something... your very talented as a writer. It takes a lot to get me hooked, and this story has me hooked. Thank you. :) I have only discovered this story today... and just had to get up-to-date the moment I read the prologue... and that's a talent with in itself.

There is so much depth to the characters, its even brought some of them to life. Take Steven for example, I always considered him to be rather dull in the games... but now I see him in a whole new light.

I was going ask how you were inspired to write this story, but you've already answered it with your dream.

Seriously, well done. Keep up the good work... ;) I'll be waiting for the next chapter...
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
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15
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Thanks, Markus! I'm glad you're enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it. In any case, this is the next chapter for you guys. The title means 'Great Power of a Certain Kind', and it's where it starts to get a little heavier. Of course, it's still nothing really serious, but it's heading that way. Have fun!

Chapter6.png

Gran Poder de Cierto Tipo

"This had better be quick," the girl said. "We don't have much time. What do you want to know?"

"To start with – what's your name?"

"Darkstorm. Elly Darkstorm. But never mind that. What do you need to know about what's happening right now?"

"Uh . . . everything?" Ren said. "I'm afraid I'm completely clueless as to what's going on."

"I see. What did Steven tell you?"

"Only that becoming the Champion has something to do with having a large amount of spiritual power or something."

"Ha! Spiritual power? It sounds so awkward when you say it like that, but it's essentially correct. In my native language, we call it yehkti. It might sound strange to you, but it's a far more accurate term. It translates to . . . well, it doesn't exactly have a direct translation, as your language doesn't have a word for it, as such. It's something like 'the fortitude of the soul', I think. But Steven had a good grasp of the concept. He even came up with a scale for it, though of course that's rubbish."

"It is?"

"Of course! Yehkti isn't something you can attach a number to like that. It's a part of your very being. But there are other people who will tell you more about that. My job right now is to make sure you don't get killed or-" Abruptly, she broke off, her head snapping around to look at something in the distance that Ren couldn't see. "We're not alone," she said tersely.

"What? Who else is here?"

"Well, nobody yet, but we're about to have company, and not the pleasant kind. Can you fight?"

"Fight?" Ren exclaimed. "I don't have my Pokemon with me! Unless you can do something about that?"

Elly shook her head. "No. Pokemon are living beings, so I can't recreate them in this world. Pokemon are useless here. What I mean is, can you fight?"

"Are you kidding? I've never even had to punch anybody. Why do I need to fight?"

"Because I'm going to," she said coldly, still glaring towards the other end of the stadium. The wind had died down, leaving the arena cold and still. "And if you can't, we might not survive the next five minutes."

"Can't you . . . do the teleporting thing again?" Ren asked hopefully.

"There's no point. All I'm doing is changing the appearance of this world – we don't actually move. We're trapped in a fixed space until you wake up."

"So, what . . . if I wake up, we get out of here?"

"Yes, but don't count on it. You're in a very deep sleep right now – almost unnaturally so. It's almost impossible to wake up from this, even with external stimuli. You'll wake up in the morning like normal, but until then you're stuck."

"But . . . it's just a dream, right? It's not like I can die or anything."

"I wouldn't make that assumption if I were you. This is no normal dream – you're on a different plane altogether, and the body and soul work much differently here. I don't know what would happen if you were killed here, but if I were you I wouldn't want to find out."

"Good point," said Ren. "So . . . who exactly are we talking about when you say 'company'?"

"Well . . . it's not so much 'who' as it is 'what'. They're malevolent beings of darkness, the flipside of your dreams. As every force has its opposite, so your dreams have these . . . creatures."

"So . . . like nightmares?"

"You could call them that, I suppose, although nightmares are technically dreams too. These are the things that go bump in the night, the ones that hide on the other side of the veil and try to claw their way into your dreams, and then out into your world."

"Into . . . my world?"

"Yes. That's the other reason we have to stop them. It's not just our own necks I'm worried about; it's everyone else's as well. The entirety of your world is at risk every time you go to sleep. Frankly, I didn't think they'd find you so quickly."

Ren tried to speak, but Elly hissed and cut him off with a sharp hand gesture.

"They're here," she said tersely. The next moment, Ren felt pain lance through his head as the very air tore itself apart. A great rip appeared in the far wall of the stadium, showing only whirling blackness behind it. Three man-shaped figures stepped out, silhouettes fabricated of pure darkness. It was difficult to see the shadowy, indistinct beings in front of the void, but as they moved forwards, the tear diminished and shrank, disappearing as quickly as it had come, taking with it the raging pain in Ren's head. All that remained was a quiet yet insistent throbbing.

"Those are . . . nightmares?" Ren said, squinting to get a good look at the newcomers. It was difficult to get a good look at them, like shadows on water.

Elly nodded, tight-lipped. "Pretty strong ones, too. One I could handle easily, and two would be a stretch, but probably doable. Three? Forget about it. I can't fight these on my own."

"Well, unless you've got some friends on call, we're going to have to," Ren said wryly.

She shot him a strange look. "We?" she queried.

"Yeah, 'we'. You and me. Both of us."

"But . . . you said you couldn't fight."

"And I was right. But I'd feel pretty bad about sitting back and letting you take those things on by yourself," said Ren, trying to disguise the fact that his heart was hammering with fear. The shadowy creatures were drawing closer, advancing slowly, cautiously.

Elly smiled slightly, and for the first time, Ren thought he saw a touch of vulnerability in her eyes. But then she blinked, and it was gone. "Thanks," she said. "I'm not sure how much good you'll be, but it's nice to know you care, at least. Here, take this." She snapped her fingers again and a short, slim sword appeared, the hilt bound tightly in some kind of purple fabric. She tossed it to Ren, who somehow managed to catch it without losing a finger.

He looked at it in awe and shock. "Where did this come from? I don't remember anything like this!"

"That's not one of your memories," the girl said. "It's my spare." Another click, and a much longer version of the sword appeared in her hands, over a metre and a half long, slim and slightly curved. It glistened harshly in the weak sunlight, and Ren shuddered. The shadows were evidently worried too, because they paused and recoiled slightly before regrouping and advancing again. They were just ten metres away as Ren gave the short blade an experimental swing.

How do you even hold this thing? he wondered frantically as he weighed it in his hand. He had never swung a sword in his life, or even a tennis racquet, and he had no idea what he was doing.

"I'll show you how to use it properly later," she said. "That should be some incentive for you to survive, no?"

"Hooray," said Ren bleakly.

"I appreciate that you want to help," she told him, "but stay back here and let me deal with this. You'll just slow me down. Only use that if they come after you." With that, she launched herself towards the group of shadowy figures before Ren could say anything else.

Gripping his blade so tightly that his hands began to ache, Ren watched in amazement as Elly dived fearlessly at her opponents, sword flashing. It was something beyond his comprehension, he realised. He had suddenly stepped into a world he knew nothing about, a world that did not make the slightest amount of sense.

The nightmares had no visible weapons of their own, but they were fast. As soon as the girl moved, they darted apart, making themselves more difficult targets. Two of them circled around Elly warily, while the third continued its advance towards Ren.

They moved in a strange way, he noticed as he held the sword out in front of him and tried to steady his breathing. Their walk was jerky and sporadic, like puppets on strings, but they were still fast, he saw as the other two lunged at Elly. He wanted to cry out, but before he could open his mouth, the other was on him, slashing out at his head with one of its limbs. He ducked clumsily, just about losing his balance, and slashed awkwardly with the sword. The nightmare danced out of the way as if pulled by a string attached to its midriff.

"Bad dreams?" it whispered in a voice that seemed to be inside his head rather than outside it, then catapulted itself at him again. Ren threw himself out of the way, landing painfully on his left shoulder. Unfazed, the nightmare turned and advanced on him as he struggled to his feet.

Oh, hell, Ren thought. Can these things even be killed? There was only one thing for it. Taking the initiative, he stepped forward as quickly as he was able, thrusting the sword towards where he approximated the nightmare's heart to be. As if it had seen the blade coming, his opponent's arm whipped up and parried the blade with a great clashing noise, as of steel on steel. Ren overbalanced and fell at the nightmare's feet. Before he could get up again, it reached down with a ghostly hand and grasped him by the collar, lifting him bodily off the ground and bringing his face up to where its own should be. No eyes looked back at him from the black expanse.

Frantic, Ren tried to swing the sword, but the nightmare caught it with its free hand and tore it from his grasp, dropping it on the ground. Ren tried to prise the thing's fingers from his collar, but its grip was like a vice. Where the hell is Elly? Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of her, but she was still locked in combat with the other two nightmares. The sound of her slashes and thrusts being parried at every turn filtered through into his ears, which were rapidly growing numb. He found his vision going too as the nightmare brought its sightless face closer to his own; even thinking was a struggle.

The only thought in his mind was Elly's assertation that she could probably deal with two of the nightmares on her own. All he could do was hope to keep this one distracted until she finished with the other two and came to help him.

Summoning the last of his remaining strength, Ren brought his knee up vigorously into the nightmare's stomach – or rather, where its stomach would have been if it was a real person. It didn't have the effect he had been hoping for. Rather than dropping him, it tossed him bodily through the air. Ren had a split second to enjoy his returning vision before he crashed into the ground again.

He swore loudly as he landed on his already-sore left shoulder, and with it, the rest of the left side of his body. His head swam; although he had managed to avoid landing on it, it had still been given a serious rattle. As he pulled himself unsteadily to his knees, he saw the nightmare stalking towards him, the sword – his only weapon – lying in the dust behind it.

Oh, how the hell did this happen? He almost would have preferred to be back in the maze with Afro Glameow. At least that dream he knew he was going to wake up from. I don't want to die, he realised as he dragged himself to his feet, swaying slightly. I have a life back in the real world. A good one! I can't just go and die in some weird dream. For a moment, he wondered what would actually happen if he died in this dream. Surely, it wouldn't affect his physical body? But then he remembered Elly's words.

This is no normal dream – you're on a different plane altogether, and the body and soul work much differently here. I don't know what would happen if you were killed here, but if I were you I wouldn't want to find out. Ren swallowed heavily. Fantastic.

Steeling himself, he dashed towards the nightmare. For a moment, the monster seemed confused, but it soon settled into a ready stance, arms outstretched hungrily towards him. Ren ran straight towards it and then dived past. The nightmare made a lightning grab for him as he passed, but Ren was rolling and then up again, scrabbling towards the sword lying on the ground.

He reached it and took it up again, holding it in front of him defensively. Better than nothing, even if he didn't know how to use it. Breathing deeply, he watched as the nightmare turned towards him slowly. If it had had a face, he thought it might have been amused. Once again it leapt towards him, but this time he was ready, bringing the sword up to interrupt it mid-bound, slashing vertically upwards and praying he would connect.

Contemptuously, the nightmare put its arm up to block his strike, but the sword wasn't there. Ren stepped aside as the dark being landed exactly where he had been standing. In the same movement, he swung the sword around to strike the nightmare in the back, biting into the unsuspecting thing's spine. At the touch of the blade, the nightmare exploded silently, a whirling gust of wind emanating from where it stood, carrying fragments of shadow with it.

As it departed, Ren felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He was able to breathe a little more easily, making up for a deficit he hadn't even noticed in the heat of the battle. He was just about ready to drop when he heard Elly cry out.

Ren swung his head round towards the source of the sound, and saw Elly flat on her back on the ground ten metres away as a nightmare towered over her, arm drawn back to deliver what would most likely be a killing blow. The other was nowhere to be seen. Elly's sword was some metres away on the other side. Ren knew he would never make it in time. Desperate, he did something very foolish and probably extremely stupid; he threw his sword at the nightmare as hard as he could.

Having no idea how to throw a sword properly – indeed, if there even was an acceptable way to do so – he simply threw it overarm with all his remaining strength. It flew through the air clumsily, turning end over end. Barely after it had left his hand, Ren knew that his aim had been off. The nightmare lifted its head unconcernedly to watch the blade pass more than a metre in front of it before turnin back to strike downwards at the unarmed Elly-

-who was nowhere to be seen. Taking advantage of the nightmare's distraction, she had slipped out from beneath it, diving for her own sword. She picked it up and held it ready, leaping back towards the nightmare even as it cast around for her. The lethal blade slid through the centre of the mass of shadow, causing it, too, to vanish in the midst of a miniature tornado.

Ren collapsed into a sitting position, burying his head in his hands and sucking in huge lungfuls of the dust-ridden air. After a moment, Elly came over and joined him on the ground, her hair tangled and messy, beads of sweat visible on her face. Neither of them spoke for a minute, Ren merely enjoying being able to relax for the first time in a while. Although the fight had only lasted a couple of minutes, it felt like forever to Ren.

"You handled that sword like it was a baseball bat," Elly said eventually.

"Don't flatter me. I've seen some serious damage done with a baseball bat."

"Exactly. I didn't expect you to be able to survive a nightmare attack, let alone kill one."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ren snorted.

"It's not my job to stroke your ego, yehktira," Elly said, slightly disdainfully.

"What . . . did you just call me?"

"Yehktira. It means 'carrier of the fortitude of the soul'."

"Uh-huh. You make it sound like it's real important," Ren said wryly.

"What, you think it's not? You think I'd be risking my neck for you otherwise?"

"You . . . have a point," Ren said. "But you said it wasn't just for our own sake that we had to kill the nightmares. Was that a lie, all that about how they would try and get through into my world?"

"No, of course not. But they came her tonight because they felt your yehkti. Nightmares need someone with a strong source of yehkti to get through into your world. That's why the yehktira is always in danger."

"Why have a yehktira at all, then?" Ren asked, stumbling over the unfamiliar phonemes. "And if my yehkti is this strong, how come none of this has happened to me before?"

Elly sighed and held up two fingers. "One, we must have a yehktira. If we don't, the fabric of the two worlds will fall apart. You're the only thing holding this world together at the moment. Whoever holds the Dreamlight must take on this role – the stronger the bearer, the stronger the bonds holding the worlds together."

"That sounds . . . pretty heavy," said Ren. "What's number two?"

"Number two is that before, you haven't had the Dreamlight in your possession. The nightmares can only enter your world through the dreams of someone who enters the second ring."

Ren stared at her blankly. "Meaning . . . ?"

Elly rolled her eyes. "You really are an idiot, aren't you?"

"Um . . . I honestly don't know," Ren admitted. He was beginning to think it was possible. It seemed that lately, people were doing nothing but explaining things to him. "I might be."

"Hmph. Anyway, this is how it works. Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say it once. The world of dreams exists parallel to your own. You had figured that out already, I imagine." With her finger, she drew three concentric circles in the dust. "This world is made up of three rings, or sub-worlds. The first ring, on the outside, is the largest. This is where normal people go when they dream, regardless of the strength of their yehkti. The dreams here are insubstantial, weak and mean next to nothing. Sometimes people gain premonitions and so on, and they are hailed as psychics in your world." She was failing to hide the disgust in her voice.

"Something against psychics?" Ren asked.

"Not in particular," she said brusquely. "In any case, that's what the first ring is. That is where I pulled you from when you were being attacked by that . . . thing.

"Afro Glameow, you mean?"

"You're . . . familiar with it?" Elly asked, her piercing green eyes narrowing.

"Well, I've had the same dream a couple of times. That's all, though."

"Hmm."

"Is there something wrong?"

"No. So, the first ring is where you were before. Where we are now . . . is the second ring." She indicated the next circle – the second largest one. "This is the inbetween. It takes many forms, and it is sustained solely by the will of the yehktira. It is built from his memories, and its size and stability depends on his strength. This ring is only accessible when the yehktira is asleep, and it is through here which the nightmares must pass."

"So then . . . the nightmares come from . . . the first ring?" Ren guessed.

"Yes, and . . . oh, look, can we stop calling them 'nightmares'? It's confusing."

"But I thought you said that was what they were?"

"Not exactly. However bad they may be, nightmares are still only first-ring dreams. These things . . . they have a name in my language, but you probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it. You have enough trouble with little words like yehkti."

"Well, I have to call them something," Ren grumbled. "What are they? Demons? Ghosts?"

"Well . . . the direct translation of their name would be something like 'the empty ones without yehkti that travel between worlds', I suppose."

"Did Steven seriously never worry about this?" Ren asked. It was just occurring to him how significant Elly's words were. Steven had been Champion for six years . . .

"He called them nightmares too. He got all sulky whenever I tried to correct him, though."

"Hmm . . . what does it mean when you say they're 'empty ones'?" Ren asked. "Empty of what?"

"Everything, really. But specifically . . . they don't have souls."

"Do you?" Ren asked. "I mean . . . what exactly are you? Some kind of spirit, I follow, but . . . eh." He waved his hands randomly.

"I am a soul. Just as they are bodies without souls, my kind are souls without bodies."

"So what do you call them?" Ren asked in frustration. "At least let me try to say it."

"You sure?" Elly said, raising her eyebrows. "Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself. Ah, whatever. Iehkti'na urum'na dar'sni-laku."

Ren stared blankly. "That is the weirdest-sounding name I have ever heard," he said honestly.

Elly frowned. "I knew you'd never manage it. But look. We can argue over what to call them later. For now, I need to get you out of here and into the third ring. More of them could turn up, though it's unlikely."

"Why are we going to the third ring?" Ren asked as Elly pulled him, none too gently, to his feet.

"Because I'm sick of explaining stuff to you. It's not my job to babysit some kid."

"Oh, come on-"

"What? You think I'm the same age you are? Don't make me laugh. I've been here in this world for centuries. Now shut up and come with me." With a single slim finger, she drew a long vertical line in the air. For a moment, nothing happened. All of a sudden, there was a massive boom, as if of compressed air, and a gaping slit appeared along the line she had drawn.

Ren winced and pressed his hands to his ears. "Warn me next time you're going to do something like that!" he exclaimed.

"Eh. More fun this way," Elly shrugged as she watched Ren tentatively tap his ringing ears. She didn't seem to have been affected by the sonic blast. "You coming?" Without another word, she turned and stepped into the gap, disappearing from sight in a heartbeat.

Ren blinked. Taking a deep breath and hoping he wouldn't regret it, he stepped into the portal.
 
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IanDonyer

Time to kick ass? Definitely.
179
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13
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"I'll show you how to use it properly later," she said. "That should be some incentive for you to survive, no?"

"Hooray," said Ren bleakly.

Love these little snippets of sarcasm from Ren.

Oh, how the hell did this happen? He almost would have preferred to be back in the maze with Afro Glameow.

I don't blame him. Afro Glameow is a smexy little beast. :3

"Um . . . I honestly don't know," Ren admitted. He was beginning to think it was possible. It seemed that lately, people were doing nothing but explaining things to him. "I might be."

Another little snippet that makes me love Ren.



Hi! Been reading steadily since earlier this week, and I am in love with this story. I love the characters (Natasha the most =D), the plot- even the writing style is amazing.

Forgive the short little review. :p Bit busy. But, keep up the good work! Hurry up and release the next chapter! Or I keel you. I keel you dead.
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
Posts
15
Years
Chapter Seven - Sueño de Oro

OK, folks, I'm posting the chapter a little earlier this week as an experiment. Replies to reviews will be at the bottom of the post from now on, I think (that is, when I post replies at the same time as a chapter). Wait, was I doing that already? Maybe. idek. In any case, here's your chapter. I'm also planning to drop a chapter something-point-five in the middle of the week for a bit of background, so keep an eye out for that. Should be the week coming, but it might be the one after.

Chapter7.png

Sueño de Oro

Ren went tumbling headlong into nothingness. It was the strangest feeling – somehow it seemed as if he had left his body behind. No, he decided, it was more like he had been physically ripped from his body and dragged into . . . wherever he was now.

His surroundings were pitch-black save for a handful of stars scattered randomly around on all sides. He didn't seem to be moving very fast, but then again, he could hardly tell, because there were no points of reference from which to gauge his speed.

Abruptly, a light appeared ahead of him, and this was moving very fast indeed, hurtling towards him at great speed. He barely had time to register a square hole like the one Elly had pulled him through earlier before he was sucked through it and catapulted onto a patch of soft grass.

Sitting up and rubbing his head, Ren examined his surroundings. He was sitting in a field of soft, lush green grass that was nearly a foot tall. Next to him stood Elly, looking bored and unruffled, and about fifty metres away was the edge of a verdant forest. The sky was a sharp, cool azure, and there was not a cloud to be seen. A soft zephyr blew through, alleviating what gentle heat the sun put out. The world was silent but for distant birdsong.

Puzzled, Ren stood and looked behind him. Grass, plain, unbroken grass, stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions, interrupted only by the forest that fell away on either side of a point almost directly in front of Ren.

"You decided to come along after all, then," Elly said, sounding as if she wouldn't have been particularly bothered if he hadn't.

"Course I did," Ren said, brushing grass off the seat of his jeans. "I was hardly going to stay back there, was I?"

"You could have just left, you know," Elly said.

"You told me I couldn't leave!"

"I said no such thing. You could have simply returned to the first ring the way you came."

"What . . . the little square hole? But that wasn't there . . . was it?"

"Of course it was," Elly said contemptuously. "You really are slow, aren't you? You didn't even think to look behind you that whole time?"

"I was . . . kind of busy with the nightmares and the fighting and the running and the jumping and the not dying," Ren grumbled.

"A real warrior is always aware of his surroundings," said Elly, looking absently up at the sky.

"You sound like a fortune cookie," Ren told her. "So . . . I could have just jumped back through that hole at any time?"

"Not at any time. If you do that while the Iehkti'na urum'na dar'sni-laku are around, they'll follow you through, and we're all doomed if that happens."

Ren snorted. "I'm sorry, but it still sounds really weird when you say that."

"Well, unless you have a better name for them, I'm going to keep calling them what they're actually called!" Elly snapped. "Honestly, how immature are you? Steven was weird, but at least he acted his age."

"Well, maybe Steven had some damn idea what was going on!"

"Maybe you would too, if you'd listen to anything I said! I must have explained everything to you already. You just don't pay attention! You're useless!" Elly hissed vehemently.

Taken aback, Ren sat back down with a fwump. "Told me everything already, you say," he mused, trying to ignore the rise in his strange companion's temper.

"Well, pretty much. Anyone with half a brain could work out what's going on from what's happened so far, combined with all I've said since I picked you up. So you tell me. What's the significance of that pendant you wear around your neck? What's your job in this world? Tell me that, and then we can go see the elders."

"Elders?"

"Yes, the elders. They will formally recognise you as the new yehktira, but I'm not taking you anywhere until you prove to me you have half a brain by piecing together what you already know."

Ren nodded. The opportunity to think was a welcome one, and he did his best to ignore Elly's piercing glares as he tried to get his head around what had happened to him so far. If he was still asleep, it was the weirdest dream he had ever had, not to mention the most realistic. Of course, if it was all just a dream, it was possible that none of it was actually happening and it had no significance whatsoever.

No, he decided. That was just his fancy. There was little doubt that this was deadly serious. Steven had given him the Dreamlight, and then he had instructed him to expect someone who would explain further. Although she was somewhat lacking in the explanations department, Elly had essentially done just that. And why had Steven handed over the Dreamlight? It means that you are currently the person in the Hoenn region with the highest spiritual power.

"You want me to be the yehktira . . . because I have the strongest yehkti in the region," he said slowly.

Elly nodded as if she had been expecting as much. "Go on," she said.

"The yehktira''s role . . . is to hold the two worlds together, and to protect the real world-"

"Don't say that!" Elly snapped.

"I'm . . . sorry?"

"The 'real world'? Do you have any idea how naïve that sounds? Your world is no more real than mine!"

"Well, then . . . to protect the physical world from the . . . Iehkti'na urum'na dar'sni-laku," he said, making a real effort to pronounce the name. It felt horrid and alien on his tongue, making him want to somehow spit it out.

The corner of Elly's mouth curled slightly. "You're getting there. Now add the two together and tell me what you get."

Ren's eyes widened. "D-don't tell me . . ."

"Ah, he gets it!" crowed Elly with a grin. "Oh, the look on your face!"

"You want me to come here every night and fight those . . . things!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet and glaring back at her.

"That's it," Elly said, shrugging. "Got a problem with that?"

"Hell yes, I have a problem with that!"

"Oh? Go on.." Elly's smile dropped, and her eyes became as hard as chips of emerald once more.

"I don't want to risk my life fighting ghost-things in my dreams all the time! That's not what I signed up for when I became Champion!"

"It's unfortunate," sighed Elly, "because I don't much like working with brats from the physical world either. The trouble is, we need a yehktira here to hold both worlds together. But whenever the yehktira is here, the Iehkti'na come too. So either they never reach your world, but we let both worlds collapse on themselves-"

"-Doesn't sound too promising-"

"Or we bring the yekhtira here, hold the worlds together and fight the Iehkti'na as we go."

"I see," Ren said. "No, I actually get that. It's infinitely preferable to having both worlds destroyed, but . . . why does it have to be me? Get Steven to do it! He managed for six years, didn't he? Why not just have him carry on?"

"That won't fly," Elly said, shaking her head. "Regardless of physical strength or mental capability, it is always the one with the strongest yehkti that we want as our yehktira. The stronger the yehkti, the stronger the bonds holding the worlds together and the harder they are to break, so we must have no less than the best. Unfortunately for all involved, 'the best' this time around happens to be a brat with an attitude problem."

"Well, what if I don't want to be the yehktira?"

"Then every night, I slip into your dreams and drag you, kicking and screaming, into the second ring. I tie you up and sling you in a corner, then I beat the crap out of the Iehkti'na myself and put you back when I'm done!" she growled, putting her face right up next to Ren's and looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that made him shiver. "Does that sound good to you?"

"I don't dream every night, though," Ren countered.

"Oh, you do. People with strong yehkti like yourself have dreams every single night, even if you don't remember them. I'll have access to your mind every time you close your eyes to go to sleep, and as soon as you enter REM, you're mine." She grinned predatorily, and Ren flinched.

"You're . . . just going to threaten me into it, then?" Ren asked, trying his level best to look her back in the eyes. It wasn't easy; they were extremely pretty eyes, the kind that made you want to lower your gaze in deference. Combined with the fact that she was glaring at him like a hungry Mightyena, he thought he was doing pretty well just to stay upright.

"If that's what it takes," she whispered, and an unpleasant shudder ran down the length of Ren's spine.

Reluctantly, he broke eye contact. "Fine," he said. "If that's how it's going to be, then there's no helping it." He was backed up against a wall, and he knew it.

"So we're agreed, then?" Elly said, stepping back smugly. "You be our yehktira, and in return, we don't let the Iehkti'na tear you apart?"

"Sounds about fair," said Ren, who was, if he was quite honest with himself, on the brink of panic. Hold it together a bit longer, he urged himself. You can flip out later, when you're awake and safe.

"Good. Looks like you might have a bit of common sense after all. Now, you can come with me." She turned and marched off towards the forest, swishing through the grass and looking oddly cheerful. Bemused, Ren jogged to catch up to her.

When they reached the edge of the woods, the shadow of the first trees looming over them, Elly turned and put a finger on his lips. "From now on, you do not speak until I tell you that you can. At all. Understood?"

Ren nodded. What's that for? he wondered, but decided asking would break the 'no talking' rule."

"Excellent. Come with me, then." Elly led him off down a path that had been worn between the trees. The enormous trunks soared into the sky on either side of him, but there was still light filtering through from behind him. As they moved ever deeper into the forest, though, the canopy grew thicker, and it got darker and darker, until he was having trouble seeing where he was going. Stumbling over tree roots in the blackness, he longed to ask Elly if she had a light. Oh, right, the 'no talking' thing, he thought wryly. Dammit.

Ren swore inwardly as he stumbled forward again. His eyes were just beginning to adjust to the blackness when he noticed that it was starting to get lighter. Gradually, he realised that he was able to see the path in front of him again. Well, at least I won't trip again. The light filtering through the trees ahead was a pale shade of blue – almost white, but still tinged with enough colour to be slightly painful to the eyes.

They passed a tall, gleaming marble column, and Ren felt his ears pop as if he had just taken off in an aircraft. Suddenly, the forest was full of noise, and there were people everywhere. Ren blinked and stopped walking. He wasn't in a forest any more – he was in a city.

A city made of light. The clear sky from outside the forest had returned, and the sun shone directly onto one of the strangest settlements Ren had ever seen. All of the buildings were made of white marble, but the ground between them was carpeted in rich, verdant green grass. Motes of light seemed to float around in the air like dandelions on the breeze, but whenever Ren tried to focus on one, it eluded his eyes.

The buildings were all small and elegant, none more than one story tall. As they passed, curious residents stopped to look. Ren sighed. He thought he might at least have gotten away from being the centre of attention in his own dreams. The people he saw were a motley arrangement. There were old people, children, men and women in a fairly natural ratio, but the manners of dress varied as widely as did the faces of the people.

They must be spirits too, Ren realised. There was a man in a suit of medieval armour, his plumed helmet tucked under his arm, calmly discussing something with a shaven-headed man who wouldn't have looked out of place in a biker gang. A man wearing a white toga was standing on a raised platform and declaiming loudly in a language Ren couldn't understand. Among his audience were a toddler holding a doll, a wrinkled old man and a young woman in a silver jumpsuit.

Everywhere they went, the sunlight caught and reflected off the corners and faces of buildings, sending rays of light dancing everywhere. The grass was soft under his feet, and despite evidently being well-trod, displayed no signs of decay. Flowerbeds of pink and blue were snugly tucked away between buildings and on the sides of the 'roads', as far as they could be called such. There were no cars, no buses, no traffic lights.

Looking behind him, Ren expected to see a forest. Instead, he saw the inside of a massive, shimmering blue cylinder that rose all the way to the sky. With a start, he realised that he could see it in front of him, too; the entire settlement was encapsulated by this unreal creation, shifting and flowing like water, held in place by some unseen force. At its highest, it melded seamlessly into the cyan sky, leaving only a haze behind it. And it, like everything else, seemed to exude light – pure, shining light that was just soft enough to look at directly without being blinded.

Ren shook his head silently, unsure if he was still forbidden to speak. He had never in his life been so sure that he was dreaming. He noticed that Elly was watching him with a half-smile on her face, a hint of smug pride in her expression. He smiled back tentatively and was rewarded with a sharp frown. Rolling his eyes, he looked back to his surroundings.

There was certainly no shortage of places for the eye to rest. Not only were the people the most varied group he had ever seen in one place, but the edifices between which they strolled were almost as diverse. While they were all single-storey buildings fashioned from gleaming marble, that was all they had in common. Some were squat and blocky, others rounded like domes, and still others were elegant cottages. Ren would have thought the material quite restrictive in terms of construction, but evidently there was some other force at work here, for the denizens of this mysterious wonderland had managed to fashion walls, roofs, and doors all from the same stone. The engineering must have been a logistical nightmare, he thought as they passed, of all things, a log cabin made of rolls of white stone. Most of this shouldn't be physically possible, he decided, shaking his head at an A-frame house made of the same.

His head was whirling. This was certainly the strangest dream he had ever had, Afro Glameow included.

"Here we are," Elly said brightly. Her mood, which had been steadily souring since he met her, had lifted considerably since they had arrived in the third ring. It was especially noticeable here, surrounded by her own kind.

They had stopped in front of one of the taller structures in the town – a classically-sculpted temple, with elegantly fluted columns supporting a low peaked roof. Friezes decorated the rim of the building, Ren noticed as he carefully stepped between the flowerbeds in front of the steps that led up into the temple proper. The friezes depicted scenes of battle – warriors in armour slaying indistinct figures that he identified as Iehkti'na dominated the decorations, though there were others he didn't recognise.

Elly led him up the steps and between the columns into the temple proper. The interior was cool and dim, in complete contrast to what Ren had just seen. Light filtered through apertures in the ceiling, casting dregs of light onto the floor like pools of white gold. At the far end of the temple was a raised dais,upon which stood five marble thrones in a row. The one in the middle was the only one that remained unoccupied – the others were already filled. Two men sat on the right, two women on the left. Were these the 'elders' Elly had spoken of? They didn't look that old to Ren. None of them could have been older than forty – one of the women was barely older than he was.

"Oh, good, everyone's here!" Elly said, smiling.

Ren frowned. There's still an empty chair . . .

"Wait here," Elly said, directing Ren to a spot on the floor that looked no different from any other. When she was satisfied with his position, she darted off behind a column and disappeared.

Nobody moved or spoke. Ren took the opportunity to examine the four people – were they actually people? What was he supposed to call them? – sitting on the massive thrones in front of him.

On the left were two men. The one furthest from the centre was short, pudgy and bald, smiling serenely as he watched Ren. The other was taller and extremely broad in the shoulder, with a sharply trimmed black beard wrapping around his face from one hairline to the other. His features were square and stern, but there was a regality in the set of his eyes that could not be ignored. Both men were wearing gold robes with intricate silver trim.

To Ren's right, on the other side of the unoccupied throne, sat two women. Next to the empty throne was a tall, stately woman with her blonde hair pulled tightly back, accentuating her high cheekbones and slim face. It was hard to judge her age from her features, but she didn't appear to be older than thirty. She watched Ren with a sort of amused interest, as if he were something vaguely entertaining that had mistakenly wandered into her field of vision.

Further to the right sat another woman, who looked to be barely older than Ren. The first thing Ren noticed was her hair. It was a strange colour, somewhere between gold and green, and it cascaded freely down her back as she sat on the edge of her throne. What Ren could see of it shimmered almost imperceptibly, confusing his eyes. Other than her hair, it almost looked as if she was related to the woman sitting beside her; she had the same slender face and figure, and she was watching Ren in a similar curious fashion. When she saw him looking, though, she winked at him cheekily. Ren looked away reflexively, suddenly remembering Elly's words. You think I'm the same age you are? Don't make me laugh. I've been here in this world for centuries. It was probably true of the others – even more so these 'elders'.

Both of the women were wearing delicate robes of diaphanous silver weave, inlaid with golden patterns of flowers and vines, as if in complete opposition to the costumes of the men. The fabric shifted and glittered whenever they moved even slightly, confounding Ren's eyes even further. He felt that if he had to see one more thing shimmering like that, he would pass out – if that was even possible within a dream.

"I apologise for the delay," said Elly's voice from his right. Ren glanced around and his eyes widened. Elly had reappeared from wherever she had vanished to, wearing the delicate silver of the elders, although her robe seemed to have far more gold woven into it than the others'. She noticed his shocked stare and demanded, "What are you looking at?"

Ren shook his head and looked down at the floor, hearing a quiet giggle erupt from the throne to the far right.

Elly harrumphed and swished across to the dais, seating herself easily in the largest of the five thrones. "Now that we are all present," she said, "why don't we begin?"



Hi! Been reading steadily since earlier this week, and I am in love with this story. I love the characters (Natasha the most =D), the plot- even the writing style is amazing.

Forgive the short little review. :p Bit busy. But, keep up the good work! Hurry up and release the next chapter! Or I keel you. I keel you
dead.
Oh, thanks! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Ren is certainly a fun character to write, though I don't want him to be too snarky - that's Elly's job. He's actually a little devoid of personality in my eyes, at this stage at least, so I'm working to make him a bit more . . . real.
 
Last edited:

Bay

6,382
Posts
17
Years
Ack, sorry for not reviewing lately! Been busy taking care of other stuff. I was writing this review while reading the chapters, so I'm able to put down my thoughts on the next parts of the story here.

Chapter 5
Why am I amused of Steven liking chocolate brownies? XD

Hm, interesting over what Steven said that he'll have to get a new set of badges if he wants to go for Champion again in a new region. I admit, I never thought that former Champions might do that. I always vaguely assumed they already have a pass to battle against another region's Elite 4 and their champion due. This idea sounds more realistic because how a former trainer might be unfamiliar with the region's Pokemon and the gym leaders' battle styles.

Overall, I too thought Ren did nicely his first time being on TV. Too bad he'll have to get use to it, haha.

I love how the tone is mostly serious when Ren was dreaming about that Afro Glameow, LOL. Seriously, I'm still amused by the image of Glameow having an Afro. And wee, finally getting to more stuff on Dreamlight!

Chapter 6
How do you even hold this thing? he wondered frantically as he weighed it in his hand. He had never swung a sword in his life, or even a tennis racquet, and he had no idea what he was doing.
I too had never swung a sword, but swinging a tennis racquet wasn't easy for me at first, LOL.

"He called them nightmares too. He got all sulky whenever I tried to correct him, though."
I can imagine him being like that too, hehe.

Elly and Ren's interactions are great in this, and so is the battle. I admit I haven't really watched Bleach saved for a few fighting clips, but reading the action in this chapter is fun. Nice pacing and also you showed Ren's inexperience with sword fighting well. The three worlds things is also very interesting. I'm a sucker for dreams able to actually affect the outcome of reality kind of stories. :3

Chapter 7
Ren's eyes widened. "D-don't tell me . . ."

"Ah, he gets it!" crowed Elly with a grin. "Oh, the look on your face!"

"You want me to come here every night and fight those . . . things!" he exclaimed, getting to his feet and glaring back at her.

"That's it," Elly said, shrugging. "Got a problem with that?"
And the revelation of the plot thickens! Going to feel sorry for Ren if that's the case, though, haha.

"Then every night, I slip into your dreams and drag you, kicking and screaming, into the second ring. I tie you up and sling you in a corner, then I beat the crap out of the Iehkti'na myself and put you back when I'm done!" she growled, putting her face right up next to Ren's and looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that made him shiver. "Does that sound good to you?"
Ouch. LOL

Again, love the interaction between Elly and Ren, quite amusing and fun. Also the description of the place is very nice.

Overall, this is getting even more interesting. Only thing I'm slightly skeptical (and I know you mentioned this before) is if any Pokemon elements will still come to play. I don't mind if the Pokemon themselves will not enter, but it seems the plot is getting to be a Pokemon fic at first but then can be easily taken as a fantasy/supernatural story of sorts. I'm probably assuming things a little too early, so I'll hold off my judgement of the plot for now. Still looking forward to what the Elders have to say about Ren, though. Keep up the good work!
 

Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
Posts
15
Years
Sorry this one took so long, folks. I've been busy as all get out these last couple of weeks with mid-year exams and all, but hopefully we'll get back into something of a weekly update schedule now.

Warning: this chapter contains mild sexual references.

Chapter8.png

Aprobación

"First, introductions," Elly said calmly, ignoring Ren's flabbergasted expression. "Shall we start with the boys?" For a terrifying split second, Ren was reminded of his first teacher at school.

"Lucius Balthazar," said the bald man cordially, nodding in Ren's direction with a smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, yehktira." He had a noticeable accent that rounded his vowels slightly and rolled his r's. Unsure whether he was allowed to speak yet, Ren nodded back respectfully.

"Bartholomew Elsin," said the bearded man, his eyes seeming to pierce Ren's own. "Vice-head of the elders' council."

Ren expected Elly to skip her introduction, but she spoke up nonetheless. "Felicia Darkstorm, head of the council," she said.

"My name is Salinthia Silverwood," indicated the tall woman next to Elly. "And this is my sister-"

"I can introduce myself!" the girl with the green-gold hair snapped. "I'm Cecilia Silverwood," she said to Ren, inclining her head gently. "As you heard, I am Salinthia's younger sister. It's truly a pleasure to meet you, new yehktira. Steven has told us all about you."

"Introduce yourself to the council, yehktira." Elly's voice rang out coolly.

Ren fumbled awkwardly. Suddenly he was expected to speak? Oh well, he thought, resigning himself to the fact. Might as well make the best of it. "My name is Ren Goodwin," he said, his voice ringing from the walls as he made his best effort to project it throughout the temple. "I am most honoured to make the acquaintance of the council of elders, and I hope to serve you well as your new yehktira." He didn't know where the words came from – they sounded false, even to him – but the council seemed pleased. Bartholomew Elsin nodded appreciatively, and Salinthia Silverwood leaned over to whisper in Elly's ear.

Elly bit her lip before speaking. "The council desires your pledge, Ren Goodwin. Will you, until such time as one arises who is stronger than you are, serve as our yehktira to the best of your ability?"

Ren sensed that he was being given his last chance to turn away – as if he could at this point. Trembling slightly, he nonetheless stood upright and firmly declared, "I will."

"And do the members of the council approve of the appointment of Ren Goodwin as the new yehktira?" Elly asked formally. "Let it be witnessed that he has been legitimately found to possess yehkti of a higher level than his predecessor, and as such he is qualified for the position."

Lucian Balthazar spoke up first. "I see he is ready to take on the position, and so I give my approval."

Ren couldn't help but shiver. This was all happening very fast, and he was almost asleep standing up to begin with. If he let himself relax, he sensed, he would collapse onto the cold marble floor.

"Ren Goodwin," rumbled Elsin. "First I must know. Do you take on this position of your own free will, asserting you have not been coerced or in any other way influenced towards your decision?"

Ren fought the urge to glance at Elly – Felicia, he corrected himself – keeping his eyes fixed on the big man. To be honest, once Elly had presented him with his choices, there was no real way he could have refused. He didn't like it, especially as it had been sprung on him so suddenly, but that was just how things were sometimes. Sometimes you have to make choices that determine the future at the drop of a hat, his father had once told him. Sometimes it's your own life, sometimes it's someone else's. But whatever the case, you have to take the choice that's best in the long term. Just because you don't think about it for as long doesn't make it any less important or more foolish.

"I made my choice of my own free will, sir," Ren agreed. "I couldn't have refused in good conscience, anyway." That much was true. As much as Ren wanted nothing to do with the whole affair, Elly had made it abundantly clear that the world was doomed if he refused. How could he have refused after that?

"In that case, I also submit my approval," Elsin said, apparently satisfied. As Ren's eyes flicked over to Elly, he noticed that her cheeks were a little flushed, although none of the other elders seemed to have noticed.

"I, also, have no objections," said the older of the two sisters after a few seconds' pause. "Felicia, what is your opinion?"

"I brought him here, so I have had ample time to consider his suitability for the position. I deem him capable, and so I also approve."

"I noticed you were gone for quite a while," Cecilia said slyly. "Surely it shouldn't take you too long to pick up one human? What took you so long?"

"I don't like your tone, Silverwood," Elly said coldly, fixing the other girl with a glare that could have split rock.

"Alright, alright!" Cecilia said, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender that was quite at odds with the michievous grin on her face. "It's none of my business what you get up to with our yehktira while nobody's looking. If you want to sneak off and b-"

"While I do not share my sister's suspicions as such," Salinthia cut in smoothly, "it is true that we were expecting your return earlier. Did something happen?"

"Ah . . . yes," said Elly, blinking as if suddenly remembering. "The Iehkti'na found us. Three of them, and quite strong, too."

"They shouldn't have been able to sense your presence," Elsin rumbled, "provided you took the usual precautions."

"Of course I did, Elsin," Elly said. "But that means that it must have been Ren that they sensed, and that means-"

"We all know what it means, Felicia," Balthazar interrupted her calmly. "We can discuss it later, however. For now, I believe all that remains is for one more person to give her approval. Miss Cecilia?"

Ren had been watching with some confusion as the strange assortment of spirits in front of him rallied back and forth. Despite being hundreds of years old, there were a couple of them who certainly didn't act it.

"I don't have any problems with him," Cecilia shrugged, eyeing Ren thoughtfully. He shivered involuntarily and looked back to Elly.

"Then it is done," the black-haired girl said. "Ren Goodwin, you are officially our new yehktira."

"I don't feel any different," Ren commented.

"There's no physical change, moron," Elly said, stepping down from her throne and approaching Ren. On either side, the other elders followed suit.

"So . . . now what?" he asked.

"Now, I think, you wake up," Salinthia said gently. "That's probably quite enough excitement for one night.

"It can't be morning already!" Ren exclaimed.

"Time works differently here, boy," Elsin said patiently. "There is no concurrent flow, no correspondence. The hour or so you have spent here took place in less than five minutes of your time."

"What? That's impossible!" Ren protested.

"You should know better than to call anything impossible by now, yehktira," Elsin said.

"That's right," Elly said. "Nothing is impossible. Still . . . I'm sure you have many questions. For now, though, we shall return you to the first ring. From there, you'll wake up normally. Think about everything that's happened, and tomorrow we can discuss it further."

"What, now? But I-"

"You're going," said Elly firmly. "I know it's probably a lot for you to deal with, so take a day to have a break. Talk to Steven about if you like, or just, you know . . . think about it."

"I'll take him back!" Cecilia offered brightly, suddenly appearing at his side. She had somehow managed to change into a short red dress that wouldn't have looked amiss on one a Nimbasa City catwalk. She had tied her voluminous hair back as well, and if it hadn't been for its unusual colour, she would have looked quite normal, albeit extremely pretty. "Elly's got some work to catch up on, I'm sure, seeing as she's been busy having fun with our little yehktira here."

"Are you looking for a black eye?" Elly scowled.

"Ooh, I'm scared!" Cecilia giggled, hiding behind Ren and peeping over his shoulder. "Protect me from the crazy girl, Ren!"

Ren sighed. "Are they usually like this?" he asked Elsin, who was watching with some amusement as the two girls continued hurling taunts at each other.

"Oh, whenever they're not on the job," Elsin said. "I have no idea why, but as soon as they get off the thrones . . ."

"It's just a way to relieve stress," Salinthia said with a benevolent smile. "Wouldn't you get a bit restless after seven hundred years on the council?"

"S-seven hundred years?" Ren's jaw dropped as he took another look around at the members of the council. None of them looked seven hundred years old – least of all Elly and Cecilia, who had both by now degenerated into helpless laughter. "You're kidding, right?"

"What, did you expect a bunch of creaky, wrinkled old folks?" Balthazar laughed. "Our appearance has not changed in centuries. There would be no reason for us to age like humans if we are not. Our existence permits us to live forever unless we are killed, yet what would be the point in that if we slowly became too decrepit to move? So we sit up on our thrones and speak of heavy things in heavy voices, but once we step down, we must enjoy life as much as we are able. The Iehkti'na cannot find us here, so our life is one of peace. Our only real concern is holding the worlds together, and that, of course, is why we need you."

"You make it sound so simple," Ren said quietly.

"Oh, it is," Balthazar said genially. "You are like the glue that holds both worlds together. If we do not reapply the glue every night, then both worlds fall apart. It's as easy as that, yet it causes us so much strife. But you should leave now. This is a lot for you to take in, I'm sure, so you should return to your own world for now."

"He's right!" Cecilia chimed in suddenly, breaking off her increasingly heated argument with Elly and slipping her arm casually through Ren's. "Shall we go?" Without waiting for a response, she lifted her hand and drew a circle in the air. Ren, realising what was about to happen, tried to step back but failed to escape the sonic shock that rippled through the air. He swore under his breath as Cecilia pulled him into the portal, but his words were snatched away from him by the sudden acceleration.

With a thud and much creaking of springs, Ren landed back on the bed in his room. Cecilia was already standing by the window, seemingly engrossed by the view. "The human world is so pretty," she said wistfully.

Ren got to his feet and joined her, watching the waves sparkling at the bottom of the cliff and beyond. "I don't know about that," he said. "Your world's pretty nice too."

"Perhaps," she admitted, "but you get a little tired of it before long. It's hardly changed in seven hundred years. You can't leave the city, because the Iehkti'na are out there. The barrier . . . the blue wall you would have seen as you came in? It keeps them out, prevents them from sensing us, but at the same time . . ."

"It keeps you in," Ren said softly, completing her sentence.

Cecilia smiled. "Yes . . . I'm glad you understand. Humans are so lucky. Even if their lives aren't as privileged as ours, they have freedom we don't. I'd rather spend eighty years in your world than a thousand in mine. You can go anywhere you want, do whatever you like. You can see a thousand places, meet a million people, each one individual and unique."

"And in exchange, we get old and die," Ren reminded her.

"Sounds like a fair trade to me," Cecilia said. "What's the point of living for hundreds of years if you can't enjoy them? I've spent seven centuries on the council, and all I've done in that time is continue to protect the yehktira. Is there even any meaning in that? No offense, of course!"

"None taken," Ren said charitably. "Well, I mean . . . man, I don't know, Cecilia."

"I wouldn't expect you to know the answer to something I've been asking myself for hundreds of years," she said, laughing, but there was a touch of bitterness in her voice. "I'm sorry. I'm being silly. I didn't come with you to complain. I came to mess with Elly's new boy-toy."

"B-boy-toy?" Ren spluttered. "What are you talking about?"

"Aha, you're getting all red," Cecilia said knowingly, prodding him in the chest with her index finger. "You two took sooo long to arrive before. Now 'fess up. What were the pair of you up to?"

"What do you mean, what were we 'up to'? We weren't 'up to' anything!"

"Uh-huh," she said, clearly unconvinced. "You know what? I'm not buying Elly's story about the Iehkti'na appearing. They shouldn't have been able to find you, especially as it was your first time in the second ring. It usually takes them at least a few nights to get used to a new yehktira and start attacking in force. It was a pretty poor cover story, to be honest. So . . . ?" She left the question hanging in the air.

Ren shifted uncomfortably. "So what?" he asked.

"How was she?" Cecilia asked with a mischievous smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ren said firmly, "and I really think I should be going back now." Cecilia was beginning to make him uncomfortable.

"Oh, no . . . not until you give me the details! I'm not letting you go that easy."

"You just want to tease her, don't you?" Ren sighed.

"So what if I do?" Cecilia pouted. "Come on, spill!"

"Nothing happened!" he insisted. "She brought me into the second ring and started to explain what was going on, but we were interrupted by three of those Iehkti'na things. After we killed them, she brought me into the third ring and essentially made me repeat everything she'd told me so far, just because she didn't think I was smart enough to remember it," he recalled, somewhat miffed. "It wasn't until after that that she brought me to the council."

"Hmm," Cecilia droned flatly, not sounding terribly convinced. Abruptly, she danced back and sat down on Ren's bed, exhaling lightly through a thoughtfully twisted mouth. "At least your stories match . . . and that does sound like something she would do, but come on. I've never known Elly to be one to hold back. I mean, sure, you're a little younger than she normally goes for, but age doesn't really mean anything when you're seven hundred years old." She kicked her legs absently, gazing at the ceiling as if it held some special interest for her.

A sudden, disturbing thought struck Ren. "Hang on . . . she didn't . . . with Steven?" He found himself unable to complete the sentence, but Cecilia seemed to follow him well enough.

"Oh . . . are we jealous?" she cooed.

Ren frowned, feeling his face heat up slightly. "Don't be absurd. I was just curious . . . no, you know what, forget it. I don't care anyway."

"Steven was too stuffy for her. For me too, for that matter," Cecilia sulked. Then she brightened considerably, a slightly predatory grin starting to form on her face. "You look fun, though," she mused.

Ren sighed and rolled his eyes. "Just send me back to the first ring, will you?" he asked hastily.

"Aw, am I making you uncomfortable, sweetie?" Cecilia teased. "Well, all right. If you don't want to talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Ren reaffirmed. I'd rather take my chances spending the rest of my night with Afro Glameow, he decided in exasperation.

Cecilia grinned. "All right, then. But if you ever do need to talk about it, you know where to find me. Or . . . I know where to find you," she corrected herself as she drew another portal on Ren's bedroom wall – a silent one this time.

"That's reassuring and not at all creepy," Ren said with a straight face, crossing the room to enter the portal.

"Of course. Now, look. Tomorrow night, when you go to sleep . . . one of us will be along. It'll most likely be one of the elders, but it might equally be someone you don't recognise. You'll be able to tell them from an Iehkti'na if that's the case, though, so don't worry. The horrible things can't talk."

"Good to know," said Ren.

"In all seriousness, Ren," Cecilia said, "go back to your world and just take a day to get used to the idea. I know this seems huge right now, but it's your job whether you like it or not. Trust me, it's easier if you learn to like it."

"You sound exactly like Steven," Ren said, pausing with his hand an inch from the portal.

"If he said that, he probably stole it from me," Cecilia said. "Say hello to him from me, by the way. He was a good yehktira, and I liked him, even if he was a bit . . ."

"Stuffy?" Ren suggested with a smile.

"Don't tell him I said that!" Cecilia warned him, grabbing his arm to prevent him from leaving. "Alright? Not a word."

"Got it," Ren said with a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"Maybe," she said. "I might not get to the second ring tomorrow. We'll see. Have fun." Swiftly, she leant forward and planted a kiss on his cheek before nudging him in the back so that he fell forwards. The instant he touched the portal, he was sucked into it, once again falling, out of control, down, ever downwards . . .

Fwump. He's back in the candy maze. Afro Glameow hisses at him from the other side of an enormous lollipop before stalking round it to glare at him with sharp yellow eyes. "Ah," Ren says awkwardly, the spot where Cecilia's lips touched him still tingling strangely. "Hello."


Chapter 5
Why am I amused of Steven liking chocolate brownies? XD
He doesn't really seem like the brownie type, does he? XD

Hm, interesting over what Steven said that he'll have to get a new set of badges if he wants to go for Champion again in a new region. I admit, I never thought that former Champions might do that. I always vaguely assumed they already have a pass to battle against another region's Elite 4 and their champion due. This idea sounds more realistic because how a former trainer might be unfamiliar with the region's Pokemon and the gym leaders' battle styles.
I toyed with a couple of ideas, but I went with this version for multiple reasons. because it gives me a potential excuse to turn it into a journeyfic

Overall, I too thought Ren did nicely his first time being on TV. Too bad he'll have to get use to it, haha.
Oh boy, he's gonna love that. :x

I love how the tone is mostly serious when Ren was dreaming about that Afro Glameow, LOL. Seriously, I'm still amused by the image of Glameow having an Afro. And wee, finally getting to more stuff on Dreamlight!
Oh, Afro Glameow is . . . very serious. :>

Chapter 6
I too had never swung a sword, but swinging a tennis racquet wasn't easy for me at first, LOL.

Quote:
"He called them nightmares too. He got all sulky whenever I tried to correct him, though."
I can imagine him being like that too, hehe.
STEVEN IS A TSUNDERE CALLING IT NOW

Elly and Ren's interactions are great in this, and so is the battle. I admit I haven't really watched Bleach saved for a few fighting clips, but reading the action in this chapter is fun. Nice pacing and also you showed Ren's inexperience with sword fighting well. The three worlds things is also very interesting. I'm a sucker for dreams able to actually affect the outcome of reality kind of stories. :3
Well, if that's the case, this ought to be fun. Interestingly, I find myself trying to turn this damn thing into Bleach at every possible turn, and it's taking a considerable amount of willpower to avoid doing so. XD

And the revelation of the plot thickens! Going to feel sorry for Ren if that's the case, though, haha.
dun dun dun nothingusefultosayheremovealong

Ouch. LOL
I honestly think that Elly is my favourite character to write. :> She's just so . . . yeah. *makes roughly Elly-shaped hand-gesture*

Again, love the interaction between Elly and Ren, quite amusing and fun. Also the description of the place is very nice.

Overall, this is getting even more interesting. Only thing I'm slightly skeptical (and I know you mentioned this before) is if any Pokemon elements will still come to play. I don't mind if the Pokemon themselves will not enter, but it seems the plot is getting to be a Pokemon fic at first but then can be easily taken as a fantasy/supernatural story of sorts. I'm probably assuming things a little too early, so I'll hold off my judgement of the plot for now. Still looking forward to what the Elders have to say about Ren, though. Keep up the good work!
Well, Ren's back in the Pokemon world now, so we ought to see a few critters beating the boogers out of each other soon enough. ;) All joking aside, that's one of the reasons I wanted to write this story - to see if I could balance two entirely different worlds, two different stories, that are ultimately linked at some level. So far it seems to be working, but I want to avoid paying too much attention to one or the other.
 
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Ren fought the urge to glance at Elly – Felicia, he corrected himself – keeping his eyes fixed on the big man. To be honest, once Elly had presented him with his choices, there was no real way he could have refused. He didn't like it, especially as it had been sprung on him so suddenly, but that was just how things were sometimes. Sometimes you have to make choices that determine the future at the drop of a hat, his father had once told him. Sometimes it's your own life, sometimes it's someone else's. But whatever the case, you have to take the choice that's best in the long term. Just because you don't think about it for as long doesn't make it any less important or more foolish.
I actually like that part there. Good advice.

Hahaha over Celia and Ren. Poor Ren kept being asked if he and Elly had done it, LOL. His reaction over Celia's mention of Steven and Elly is priceless too.

Ack, not much really happened this chapter, hence the short review. D: I'm still looking forward to the next chapter, though!
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Nine - Creo que el Gato Tiene una Problema

Chapter9.png

Creo que el Gato Tiene una Problema

Advancing on him slowly, Afro Glameow yowls indignantly, seemingly furious at having its prey snatched away earlier.

"All right," Ren sighs. "What's your problem? You want to eat me again? Come and try it." He suddenly feels a lot braver than he did before.

Afro Glameow hisses uncertainly, slowing its advance and eyeing Ren warily.

"Yeah, that's right. Sod off. I haven't got time to deal with you," Ren tells it, stepping forward threateningly. His furry nemesis skitters backwards, but then rallies, slinking back and forth in front of him as it tries to judge whether or not he was a threat . . .

"
Ah!" Ren sat up with a start. He was back in the hotel room, he realised momentarily. Struck by a sudden thought, he glanced over to the other bed, where Natasha's sleeping form was clearly visible. He breathed a sigh of relief and lay back down.

The room was suffused with early-morning light that was doing its level best to fight its way past the heavy curtains. Ren allowed his head to sink back into the luxuriously puffy pillow with a sort of relief. It was nice to be back. He took a deep breath and let it out all at once, allowing his heart rate to return to normal.

That was officially the strangest, most screwed up dream I have ever had, he decided. For a brief moment, he toyed with the notion that it had been just that – a dream. But it had been too real, too vivid to deny. He had to accept that it had actually happened, and as a result he had to accept the legacy that Steven had handed to him.

It won't stop me from giving Steven an earful when I see him next, Ren thought wryly. He felt a little cheated that he had had such a responsibility thrust upon him without being told about it. While he understood that Steven could hardly have announced the existence of the world of dreams to every Trainer who challenged him, he couldn't help but feel a little resentful at not having been given any choice in the matter.

As if reacting to his very thoughts, his Pokenav buzzed on the bedside table. Ren snatched it up and pressed the talk button. "Hello?" he said quietly, glancing across at his still-sleeping cousin.

"Good morning, Ren."

"Arceus, Steven! Are you watching me?"

"No." Steven sounded puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"I literally woke up thirty seconds ago!" Ren hissed. "In any case, you still have a lot of explaining to do."

"I see," Steven said. "You had better come over here right away. Talk to the concierge, and he'll have a car brought round."

"Fine," Ren said, rolling his eyes. "See you when I ge-" The line went dead. Ren stared at it for a minute, but then simply shook his head in disgust and rolled out of bed to wake Natasha.

Half an hour later, Ren found himself in Steven's 'conference room' again, Natasha once more left in the care of Katrina Stone. Ren yawned and looked at his watch again – still only quarter to seven in the morning. It was ridiculously early, and even though Ren had fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow the previous evening, he was still somewhat tired. One part of his mind wondered if it was a side effect of the strenuous activity within the dream, but that shouldn't have had any bearing on his life in this world . . .

Ren snorted as he listened to his subconscious ramble on. Here he was, less than eighteen hours after Steven had first hinted at the existence of the other world, and already he was taking it for granted, factoring it into his musings as if it was some kind of constant.

"Cecilia says hi," he said at length, once he had realised that Steven was unwilling to break the silence between them.

"You didn't have any problems with her, did you?" Steven asked.

"Not particularly," Ren said. "Why?"

"Oh, nothing really. She's a wise elder, and I've never seen anyone treat a wound like she can, but she's a terrible flirt."

"Oh, that," said Ren, waving it off uncomfortably. "I noticed."

"Not bothering you, then?"

"Nope."

"Good."

The two of them lapsed back into silence for a minute. Ren chewed his lip and stared absently at the ceiling as Steven fiddled with his cufflinks. He had lined up so many things he wanted to say to Steven before coming, but now, none of them seemed worth saying. Most of them appeared childish, even to the mind that had spawned them. Why didn't you tell me? It's not fair! I don't want to do this! You can't make me do it! In the privacy of his own head, he raged against Steven and everything he stood for, but he couldn't bring himself to say them. Most of them, he realised with a shock, were exactly the same as his protests against appearing on Hoenn Buzz the previous evening.

Ugh, how could I have been so immature? he chastised himself. I must have sounded like a little kid!

"About the television appearance last night-" Steven said suddenly, but Ren cut him off.

"No. Don't even – no. I'm sorry about that fuss I raised. In hindsight, it was probably the worst way I could have reacted. I was immature and stupid, and I apologise. I wasn't thinking properly."

Steven smiled knowingly. "Funny how a night travelling between worlds affects one's world view, isn't it?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

Steven didn't reply immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and focused on a spot on the wall. Ren followed his gaze, but there was nothing there except a stretch of plaster, much the same as the rest of the room. "Do you know why people like me, Ren?" he said at length.

"What?"

"I don't mean to be egotistical, but I've noticed it. So have you, I'm sure. I seem to get along with people a lot more easily than others."

"I . . . guess you could say that," Ren said. While Steven Stone was hardly a poster boy for friendliness and sociability, he had noticed a certain magnetism about the former Champion that was difficult to explain.

"I wasn't always that way," Steven admitted. "Six years ago, before I became Champion, I was quite the opposite. It's not like I was a horrible person, but . . . I shut people out. I was polite where I needed to be, but I saw no reason to actively engage with other people. That changed the first time I put on the Dreamlight." He fell silent once more, staring off into the middle distance with a look on his face that Ren would have called wistful if he didn't know better.

"It changed? How did it change?"

"It made me think," Steven said simply, returning his attention to Ren. "I realised that there was something bigger than me, and that in turn brought me to the realisation that I was being petty. I said to myself: Steven, there's another world out there, full of people who would dearly love to have the freedom you do-"

"Cecilia gave you that speech too, huh?" Ren said. Somehow he was unsurprised. "But yeah, I follow you. She's right."

"That was when I decided I was going to make the most of my life," Steven says. "Call it corny, or cheesy, or whatever food-related idiom you desire, but I figured I was going to live every day to the fullest. That, Ren, is what I was talking about when I said the Champion had to be accessible. It's a bit of a jump, but it's essentially the same thing. The way I see it, there's no reason for you not to go along with the whole publicity deal."

Ren frowned. "You don't need to convince me. I've resigned myself to that. Hell, I've resigned myself to everything. At first, I was a bit put out, understandably, but . . . after thinking it all over for a while . . . I haven't got a choice. But anyway, I'm pretty content to go with the flow for a while." Being back in the real world was refreshing, Ren realised, and Salinthia had probably been right to suggest he return to think about it. His mind worked more clearly, and it wasn't such a terrifying prospect any more.

"Are you sure?" Steven said worriedly. "It's a dangerous job, being the yehktira. Every night you get pulled into the second ring, and you can't leave until all of the nightmares have been destroyed. If you leave just one alive, it'll follow you back to the first ring and out into our world, so you can't take the chance. It's not like you can just put in an appearance and then leave. You know that, right?"

"Well, I'd kind of figured as much," Ren said, shrugging. "But that's fine. The spirits will protect me, after all. And I certainly handled that one last night pretty well, if I do say so myse-"

"What? The nightmares came last night?" Steven said sharply. "They shouldn't have been-"

"-able to sense my yehkti, I know. I heard," Ren finished. "Whatever the case, they were there and they were nasty. Elly and I dealt with them, though."

"Elly?" Steven said, apparently not recognising the name.

"Um . . . Elly? Felicia 'Elly' Darkstorm, head of the council of elders?"

"Felicia . . . I never heard her refer to herself as Elly. Nor did anyone else, for that matter. How strange."

"Perhaps it's just a phase," Ren suggested. "For all we know, she changes it every time there's a new yehktira."

"They're . . . strange beings," Steven said. "I want you to be careful, Ren. They're very old, and very wise, but living for so long has driven them slightly mad, I fear. They will not harm you – of course, you are the only thing holding their world together, as well as our own – but you cannot rely on them. They will protect you with their lives, of course, but . . . they work in strange ways. They are fickle, and while their dedication to keeping you alive may never waver, they are certainly more than capable of making your life hell if you offend them."

"Speaking from experience, are you?" Ren asked, smiling amusedly as Steven averted his eyes.

"Yes, I am," he admitted quietly. "To this day, I don't know what I did, but there was a period of a month or two where they were as cold as ice with me. It didn't make for pleasant dreams."

"Do you know what happens if the yehktira does die?" Ren asked suddenly, voicing something that had been on his mind ever since he woke up. "Surely it's happened at least once."

Steven shook his head. "No. In fact, until relatively recently, being the yehktira was not much of a risk at all. About twenty years ago, I hear, the nightmares were little more than an annoyance. The purpose of the yehktira was only to step into the second ring every night and refresh the bonds holding the world together. The nightmares, when they did appear, were easily dealt with; they were small, weak creatures."

"So why the change?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if the elders know, but if they do, they never told me. From what I heard, there are massively powerful nightmares in the third ring, but they can't get through into the second ring for some reason. It's these things which the spirits are hiding from in their little forest glade, by the way. But only the little ones, apparently, could get through and plague the second ring. Even in the six years that I've been yehktira, I've seen the average size of the nightmares grow and grow. If it keeps up, they're going to be impossible to deal with."

Ren sat and absorbed this information for a minute. It certainly didn't bode well for his future as yehktira, that was for sure. He was just starting to reconsider his acceptance of the role when his Pokenav chimed loudly from his pocket. "Ah – is it alright if I answer this?" he asked guiltily.

Steven nodded. "Go ahead. It's probably important."

Ren couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but answered the call anyway. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Ren."

"Ah, Uncle Roger. How are you? How's the holiday going? You can't be done already."

"Well, actually . . . about that, ah, I kind of made a mistake with the bookings," Roger admitted bashfully.

"I see," Ren said, rolling his eyes.

"So, um, we had to check into a motel with a very early check-out time. We're about to get on a train back to Slateport. Where are you at?"

"I'm still in Rustboro," Ren said. "Natasha's doing fine, by the way. She's a little quieter than usual, but she seems to be having fun. But never mind that – what sort of motel makes you check out at-" - he glanced at his watch - "seven o'clock in the morning?"

"A very, very cheap one," Roger said. "Listen, what are your plans for the rest of the day? Are you able to meet us back in Slateport, or will we have to come and pick Natasha up from there?"

"I'm not sure," Ren said. "Let me check." He covered the mouthpiece and addressed Steven. "Can I go home after this?"

"I don't see why not," Steven shrugged. "I don't have much more to tell you that you can't hear from Felicia or the others."

"Yeah, I can be there," Ren said. "Natasha and I'll catch the midday express, so we should be in at about one thirty, I think."

"All right, Ren. Thank you again for taking care of our little girl."

"It's not a problem, Uncle Roger," Ren said. "She's been good. All right, I'll see you this afternoon."

"Tally ho!" his uncle chuckled with slightly more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary before hanging up.

"What sort of secret conference room gets Pokenav reception?" Ren asked directly, raising an eyebrow at Steven. "I could have set this thing to record and broadcast our conversation live to anyone I wanted to."

"Good point," said Steven, frowning worriedly. "I really don't know what my father was thinking . . . but considering his company invented the things, I imagine he'd have some sort of coverage against them. Still, that doesn't matter. Do you have anything else you wanted to ask? I imagine you do."

"Actually . . . no," Ren decided. "I think the best thing to do would be to let the rest of it come as it comes. Besides, I don't have anything to ask you that I couldn't just bug Elly with later."

"You almost make it sound like you enjoy annoying her."

"I could get used to it," Ren said. "She reacts interestingly when you piss her off – which is remarkably easy to do."

A slight smirk twitched at the corner of Steven's mouth. "You're a canny one, Ren."

"I do my best. But I really should be going – I want to go and visit Roxanne at the Gym before we catch the train. Maybe we'll even have time for a battle."

"I suppose that's fair enough. Are you feeling restless from the lack of battling? It's only been three days."

"Yeah, but I've spent the last five years of my life battling several times a day. It feels weird to go for even a day or two without a good battle. I've hardly even let my Pokemon out, let alone used them."

"All right," Steven nodded. "Here's what we'll do. Go over to the Gym now – you might be able to catch Roxanne before the first challenger of the day appears. Then catch that express back to Slateport, and do whatever you like for a few days. You'll be going to the world of dreams every night, of course, so take it easy. On Thursday, there's a Pokemon Contest on in Mauville City that I think you might be interested in."

"A Contest?" Ren asked, frowning dismissively. "I don't really like Contests, so I'd rather not go. Unless . . ." he said slowly, catching the look in Steven's eye, "this is one of those publicity things you were talking about?"

"You're learning," Steven said, nodding. "The Champion is not just a representative of Pokemon battling – he needs to be an ambassador for all those who work with Pokemon. Showing up at a Contest or two will aid that image. And besides, it won't be all bad. Bella's going to be there, if I remember rightly."

"What, competing? I didn't know she was a Coordinator."

"No, she's not. She'll just be watching. I was going to go along with her, but I've got business to take care of. Think you can stand in for me?"

"Sure, I guess. So, Thursday in Mauville, huh? I can be there." Inwardly, Ren sighed. It didn't look like he was going to be able to spend that month at home with his mother after all. He'd just have to settle for being there as much as he could. He was determined to at least spend his birthday at home the following week.

"Thanks. I think Bella's quite fond of you, Ren."

"Wh-what?"

"Oh, don't look so frazzled," Steven chuckled. "You know what I mean. In any case, this works just fine. I suddenly have somewhere I need to be."

Ren hadn't even noticed that the ex-Champion had been checking his phone under the table. "What, at seven in the morning?"

"Yes," Steven said somewhat ruefully. "It seems that since I stepped down, I've suddenly become the most popular man alive. Strange how that works. Yet still, I must leave. Apparently, it's urgent." He stood and pushed his chair back, reaching out to shake Ren's hand.

Ren took it, slightly confused. "Um . . ."

"Best of luck, Champion," Steven said sombrely. "I know you have inherited a heavy burden, but I think you can handle it. We may not have the opportunity to meet like this for a while – I get the feeling both of us are about to be even busier than we ever thought was possible. I'll put my old PR team at the League in touch with you, and they'll help you organise the Champion side of things. But of course, the yehktira side . . . must be revealed to nobody, regardless of how much you trust them. All right?"

"I got it," Ren said. He did, strangely. He knew he should, by all rights, still be freaking out. It was entirely possible that he was just in shock, but he didn't think so. He saw things with a strange clarity that he had not experienced before. "I got it," he repeated, almost as much for his own benefit as it was for Steven's.

It had been true what he said, Ren reflected as he retrieved Natasha from Katrina Stone again. He did want to go and battle someone all of a sudden. The main reason, though, was that he wanted something else to take his mind off what had happened over just the last twenty-four hours.

"Are we going home now, Ren?" Natasha asked as they stepped out of the Devon Corporation building.

Ren shook his head. "Not yet, 'Tash. We're going to see Roxanne first."

"You mean your girlfriend?"

Ren sighed. There was no real point in arguing – he knew Natasha wouldn't listen – but at the same time he didn't really want to leave it open. "No, she's not my girlfriend," he said, hoping he could leave it at that. "Now, Steven said he'd call a car around . . . oh."

A large, now-familiar black car was parked right in front of them, the driver standing to attention beside the open door. "To the Rustboro Gym, Master Ren?" he asked with an indulgent smile.

"Ah . . . yes," Ren said, ushering Natasha into the car and putting one leg in after her. "Thank you."

"Of course, sir," the driver said, closing the door behind Ren. A few moments later, the engine purred into life and they pulled out into traffic.

"So, how did you get a Gym Leader to be your girlfriend?" Natasha asked. Ren sighed. This was going to be a long trip.
 

Misheard Whisper

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Chapter Ten - Guerra de Roca

Fancy stuff in the morning bleeh (also fix formatting and stuff. Really want to chuck this up now, but dangit I am tired.) Actual writing quality is not compromised, because this has been done for weeks now.

Chapter Ten
Guerra de Roca

Thankfully, the car arrived at the Rustboro Gym in record time, sliding into the carpark barely ten minutes after it had left Devon. Of course, this meant that Ren still had to endure ten minutes of teasing and awkward questions from his younger cousin. He was quite glad to step out of the car.

The driver offered to wait for them, but Ren demurred; the train station was only a block or two away. Once the car had left, Ren turned to face the Rustboro Gym and the memories came flooding back.

The building was fashioned after a large chunk of brown rock, with broken spires and chunks of stone pointing off in strange directions. It looked to be about two stories tall, though Ren knew that inside it was just one huge space. It sat on its own section, somewhat dwarfed by the heavy commercial buildings on either side but still managing to stand out and look quite imposing.


It had looked far scarier when he had first turned up three years ago. He had only had two badges then, and his Pokemon team had been much less experienced. The building had seemed to grow larger as he had walked towards it; so much so, in fact, that he had gotten dizzy looking up at it from in front of the door and needed to sit down.


He felt no such compulsion now as he strode towards the red double doors, feet crunching on the gravel. At his approach, the doors groaned open automatically, making him pause for a moment. They hadn't done that before. Nevertheless, Ren stepped inside, making sure that Natasha was with him before the doors closed.

Inside, Ren found himself in a familiar foyer. Surprisingly modern and chic compared to the rough outside of the Gym, it was spacious and comfortable, lit with soft uplights placed around the walls. A young man sat behind a desk at the back of the room, next to the door that led to the battlefield. He looked up as the doors closed behind Ren, and his eyes went wide. "Master Goodwin, sir! The new Champion!" he exclaimed, hurrying out from behind his deck to approach Ren. "Is that you?"

"I'm pretty sure it is," Ren said. "Is Roxanne around?"

"Not yet, but she's due any minute to do the standard daily checks before she goes off to teach her class."

Ren frowned. "Isn't it Sunday?"

"Yes, but she is handling a weekend class of older students. The class doesn't begin until nine thirty, though, so you should have time for . . . er. What is it you're here for, anyway?"

"I'd like a battle," Ren grinned. "Is that allowed?"

"I . . . think so. There's nothing in the rules about it," Roxanne's secretary muttered anxiously, shuffling quickly over to his desk and digging through a stack of important-looking papers with all the care one would have afforded a pile of dead leaves. "I guess you'd have to ask Miss Roxanne when she arrives," he said. "It is, after all, ultimately up to her whether she wants to battle."

"Of course," Ren agreed. "I'll wait. But in the meantime, do you have some water? I'm parched."

"Ah, of course, sir," the secretary said awkwardly. "I'll just, uh, go and find some." He backed out of the room through a side door, nodding his head in Ren's direction.

Ren sighed and flopped down onto one of a row of red plastic chairs that had been lined up against the wall, patting the one next to him. "C'mon, 'Tash. Sit down for a few minutes."

"This is fun, Ren! Are you gonna battle your girlfriend now?"

Ren sighed again. "I already told you, she's not my girlfriend."

"Won't she get mad and break up with you if you beat her?" Natasha asked, ignoring what Ren had said.

"That's not an issue because she's not my girlfriend," Ren said through gritted teeth.

"Sure," Natasha smirked.

Ren felt she was going to say something else, but he was spared by the front door of the Gym grinding open again. He stood up quickly. "Roxanne?"

The Gym Leader blinked in confusion. "R-Ren?"

"Hey," he said, suddenly devoid of words for some reason.

"What are you doing here?"

"Why else does a Trainer come to a Gym?" he asked. "Got time for a battle?"

"I – yes. Yes, of course," Roxanne smiled. "Just, um . . . give me five minutes, would you? I have to check on my Pokemon."

"Of course," Ren said, sitting down again as Roxanne hurried towards the door her secretary had gone through just moments before.

"She's totally into you," Natasha advised him, nodding sagely.

"Oh, give it a rest. She's, like, two years older than me or something anyway."

"That doesn't mean anything these days," Natasha said dismissively.

"What sort of TV programs have you been watching?" Ren asked in disgust, poking her in the ribs. "You haven't been watching the gossip channel again, have you?"

Natasha squeaked and wriggled away from his finger. "No, I haven't! But come on, you big dummy. I can tell she likes you."

"That's not true," Ren said. "Could you please not talk about it, anyway? Especially in front of her?"

"Ooh, what's that? Ren doesn't want to be embarrassed in front of his girlfriend?" Natasha giggled.

Ren stared at her for a moment. "You know, you're a lot different to how you used to be," he said. "You're still completely mad, but you've grown up a bit."

"I try," she said. "You've can't call me mad, though, Mr. Run-away-from-home-to-be-a-Trainer!"

"I didn't run away from home!" Ren protested.

"You might as well have," Natasha sulked. "You just left all of a sudden. I thought you were coming back!"

"I did! I'm back now, aren't I?"

"Sort of. But it took you five years. I was lonely."

Ren didn't really know quite what to say to that, so he fell silent and watched a clock on the opposite wall, listening to its soft ticking while he thought about what his cousin had said.

It was true, of course, that he had left very suddenly. It had been less than a week after his tenth birthday when he had packed up his things and set out. He hadn't wasted any time, that was for sure. He hadn't wanted to. Sometimes, he had decided, things just had to be done, and for him, that was . . . of course. Champion.

And now he'd done it. He imagined that he would be able to spend some more time at home, of course, but . . . it wouldn't be nearly as much as he would like. It was strange, really. He had set out just short of five years ago, full of the desire for adventure, but now . . . now, somehow, all he really wanted was to stay at home.

No. That wasn't what he'd come here for today, he reminded himself. He was here to battle. Hopefully it would clear his head a little, but even if it didn't, it would be good to stretch his battling muscles again. The last battle he had participated in had been the deciding battle at the Pokemon League. It had only been three days ago, but he hadn't gone so long without a battle for years.

At length, Roxanne reappeared. "All right, I'm done. Come through to the battlefield."

Ren rose silently, following her through the large door and down a spacious hallway. As he walked, the walls turned to stone, growing rougher and rougher as they did so. Ren smiled slightly. When he had first arrived here to challenge Roxanne for the Stone Badge, this hallway had been almost as intimidating as the facade of the building itself. Now, it was . . . just another hallway.

Another set of double doors opened at the end of the passage, letting light spill through into the dimly-lit corridor. Roxanne paused in the doorway and turned slightly towards him, a half-smile visible on her face. "Welcome to the Rustboro Gym, challenger," she said, before turning back and stepping onto the battlefield.

A grin starting to form on his own face, Ren followed her through, automatically making a beeline for the challenger's box at the near end of the battlefield. The field itself looked much the same as he remembered. A white rectangle, painted on the ground, filled with rocks and coarse dirt. Another line bisected it neatly, with a large circle sitting right in the middle. To either side, empty stands rose over a full storey high, row after row of yellow seats stretching towards the ceiling. Out of the corner of his eyes, Ren noticed Natasha tiptoeing into the battlefield behind them and securing herself a front-row seat.

Roxanne took up her position at the opposite end of the battlefield. "This takes me back," she said. "Ever since that day, I've been looking forward to having you in my Gym again. It took you three years, but you made it back eventually."

"I came as quickly as I could," Ren said, drawing a smile from Roxanne.

"We don't have much time now, though," she said. "It'll have to be a one on one match. Does that sound all right?"

"Sure," Ren said, digging through his backpack for a Poke Ball.

"Blind choice," Roxanne said, drawing a Poke Ball from her pocket and showing it to him. "Both Trainers must choose their Pokemon before either is released. All right?"

"That sounds fair," Ren agreed, making his choice and dropping the bag behind him. "Just out of interest . . . what happens if I lose? Not that I plan to, or anything."

"It's not an official challenge," Roxanne reassured him. "Nothing happens. But to be perfectly honest, I only expect this battle to go one way. It was three whole years ago when we last battled, and you did very well even then. I can tell your team has gone from strength to strength since."

"Fair enough," Ren said, thumbing the release switch. In a flash of red light, his oldest partner materialised before him. "I choose Zangoose, then." The bipedal Pokemon flexed its lethal black claws experimentally, clearly glad to have been released. Its fur was a glossy white, save for a diagonal slash of orange across its belly and a matching one across its face that gave it a somewhat demonic appearance. Its hands were a deep orange colour up to the wrists, and its fierce red eyes glared down the battlefield at Roxanne, awaiting the appearance of her Pokemon.

"Hm! A poor choice, Ren," Roxanne chastised him. "You didn't forget that my Gym specialises in Rock-types, did you?"

"You didn't think I was that stupid, did you?" Ren countered with a smile. His heartbeat was already starting to speed up again. This was it. This was what he lived for. "Zangoose might have the type disadvantage, but I think we'll manage."

"All right, suit yourself. Then I'll choose Golem!" With a crack, Roxanne's Poke Ball exploded into a shower of red light that quickly coalesced into a huge, ball-shaped Pokemon with short, stubby limbs and skin made of large, thick plates of rock. A small, lizard-like head glowered out from a gap in the armour as it growled loudly in its guttural voice.

Zangoose's ears pricked up at the appearance of its opponent, and it hissed its challenge, fur bristling.

"Easy," Ren murmured. Even after such a long time, the Pokemon still retained its volatile personality.

"Would you rather we had a referee?" Roxanne asked. "Jeremy usually does it, but he's disappeared somewhere this morning."

"Oh, the guy at the front desk? Yeah, he went off to get a glass of water, but I haven't seen him since. He's probably busy, though. No, that's fine. We don't need a referee."

"All right, then," Roxanne nodded. "Then as the challenger, you should take the first move."

"No," Ren said. "Ladies first, I insist. And besides . . . even though I'm the challenger, I'm the higher-ranked Trainer. You take the first move."

"I don't think that's-" Roxanne began to protest, but Ren cut her off with a raised eyebrow. "All right," she sighed. "You're so stubborn."

"And you're not?"

"No, I'm- oh, forget it," she harrumphed. "Golem, go! Get started with an Earthquake."

Taken by surprise, Ren watched as the bulky Pokemon leapt into the air to come crashing down on the ground, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, tearing up chunks of rock and earth that danced up and down like mad demons. "Jump!" Ren shouted.

Zangoose's powerful leg muscles tensed, and the Pokemon went flying upwards, a streak of white lightning. By the time it landed back on the ground, the shockwaves had ceased.

"One more!" Roxanne commanded. Golem roared and leapt again, its bulky limbs smashing down onto the ground and shaking the arena.

Ren hissed a quick breath in through his teeth. "Jump one more time, and forwards! We can't win this from a distance!"

With a determined yowl, Zangoose threw itself forwards, leaping over the shockwaves that rushed across the ground. It landed right in front of Golem, taking the other Pokemon aback and causing it to step backwards. "Crush Claw!" Ren yelled. Zangoose drew back its massive claws and then swung them forwards towards the Rock-type's head, the air whistling as they flew.

"Defense Curl!" Roxanne countered. Golem's head withdrew into its protective shell, and it braced its stubby legs against the ground. Zangoose's claws skated ineffectually off its rough, rocky shell, and Ren's Pokemon hissed in anger as it backed up slightly, eyeing Golem warily.

"Keep your distance," Ren warned as he watched for Roxanne's next move. "We don't know what they're up to." Zangoose ignored him, circling Golem closely, swiping and feinting at chinks in its armour.

"Perhaps you ought to train your Pokemon to follow orders a bit better, Ren?" Roxanne suggested with a razor-edged smile. "Golem! Bulldoze!"

"Shi- Zangoose! Get out of there!" Ren shouted. Zangoose started to dodge backwards, but it was too late. Golem roared and rolled forward at frightening speed, drawing its arms and legs back into its shell and disappearing into a blur of brown that rocketed towards Zangoose, smashing into it at high speed and threatening to crush it into the ground.

With a furious yowl, Zangoose threw itself out of the way. It had still borne the brunt of the attack, but it managed to avoid being steamrollered by the immense weight of the Rock-type Pokemon. Zangoose dragged itself back to its feet as Golem made a turn and came back for another pass.

"Golem! Make it a Rollout!" Roxanne commanded.

Ren gritted his teeth as the massive Pokemon's rotation speed increased, causing it to dig a furrow in the ground as it tore around the arena at a blistering speed before banking sharply and barrelling straight at Zangoose.

"Jump!" Ren cried. Zangoose bent its knees to leap again, but it hesitated, fumbling to find its balance, and in the split second it took to find it again, Golem struck, a massive brown blur that sent Zangoose flying. "What?" Ren exclaimed. "Zangoose, what's wrong with you? You're faster than that, aren't you?"

Zangoose hissed irritably as it pulled itself to its feet again, glaring warily at the still-rolling Golem with unbridled hatred in its eyes.

"I thought you'd have done your homework, Ren!" Roxanne called from the other end of the battlefield. "Bulldoze is a marvellous move, really. Not only does it steamroll your opponent, but it hits them so hard that it rattles their perception, making them less agile and slowing their reactions."

"What? I've never heard of that move before!"

"Well, a fine Champion you'll make," Roxanne remarked wryly. "You're going to have to think fast if you want to keep your pride intact. Now, Golem! One more Rollout, and make it count!"

Ren coughed as Golem's thunderous rolling, seeming to grow more powerful with every passing second, threw up a cloud of dust. "Zangoose!" he choked out. "Don't dodge it! Meet it head on with Brick Break!"

"What?" Roxanne exclaimed. "Golem, watch out!"

Ren grinned as he felt the floor shake from the collision of the two Pokemon. "Too late."

The dust slowly settled to the ground, revealing the battlefield. Golem had stopped dead in its tracks – or more accurately, it had been stopped. Zangoose stood proud against it, massive claws held to the other Pokemon's head.

"Golem!" Roxanne cried.

"Oh, don't worry," Ren said. "He won't fall from just that. I'm sure of it. But still . . . I hardly think you're one to be talking about not doing your homework, Roxanne." He laughed triumphantly, feeling the thrill of battle rush through him.

"What? I . . . I knew Zangoose could learn Brick Break. I just didn't think . . ."

"You didn't consider it a possibility, did you?" Ren arched an eyebrow. "That's the problem. When you go into a battle, you need to make sure to consider every possibility. That's the only way I managed to win my way through the League. Every option, no matter how remote the possibility, needs to be assessed. I'll admit I was taken aback by that new move, but that ends now!" He slashed his hand through the air to emphasise his point, feeling his confidence building once more. "Come on, Roxanne. The real battle begins here!"
 
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luxuriate

Original Trainer
44
Posts
12
Years
Build-up's very masterfully written. Emotion is genuine and I loved Bella Bianchi for trying to expose Ren about the concept of image. Katrina makes me think of Gandalf, a bit when she said she'd 'keep an eye, both as I can spare them'. But I was a bit worried about how Steven saw her differed from how Tash saw her, then it got interesting it was revealed how Katrina saw Tash, and especially when Tash is left with her even longer. Hmm.

I love the Dreamlight concept. The volcanic analogy was pulled off brilliantly.

Looking forward to the next chapter. (And Now, Something A Little Magical? Hm.)

EDIT: OMG THERE'S MORE BRB

2ND EDIT: -mouth gape- What a ride. At first, I was bummed at the lack of Pokemon, but the battle with Roxanne totally made up for it. Good job.
 
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Misheard Whisper

[b][color=#FF0000]I[/color] [color=#FF7F00]also[/c
3,488
Posts
15
Years
Early chapter this week for no particular reason. Well, I guess there is: this is the end of my first arc, the Parodos.

. . . Guess I should explain that, huh. In classical Greek drama, the
parodos is the part of the play following the prologue, where the Chorus comes forth and 'sets the scene' for the play, so to speak. The parodoi (plural) are also the passages on either side of the traditional stage, from which the Chorus would enter during this part. So the second arc will be called Episode the First - again, loosely derived from Greek drama.

I really hope I'm not putting people off with all this foreign-language stuff - Spanish chapter titles, Greek arc names . . . for Arc 2 I'm either going to name my chapters in English, or just pick another language. German sounds nice. (Yeah, there's no rhyme or reason - just my idiosyncratic affectations. Ah well.) For now, enjoy the end of our first arc.


Chapter Eleven
Los Fuegos de Batalla

Roxanne remained silent for several seconds, the remainder of Golem's dust cloud still settling around her as the two Pokemon remained frozen in the centre of the battlefield. "Good . . ." she said at last.

"Good? What's good?" Ren asked.

"It's good to see that you've still got that fire," Roxanne said with a smile. "Three years ago, you came to my Gym aflame with passion. You battled with unstoppable energy and drive, and that was how you won. When I saw you recently . . . you seemed to have lost some of that. I was hoping you'd come here to battle me so that I could make sure you hadn't."

"And had I?"

"No," Roxanne said with a shake of her head. "Not at all. If anything, you have more of it now. It's like you become a different person when you battle, but I can see . . . I can see that that's because you're doing what you love. Yesterday, you were a little quiet. Polite and cheerful, but you weren't showing that spark. You didn't show it until now, and I can understand why. I am, after all, a Pokemon Trainer like you. Even a couple of days without a battle can seem like forever, right?"

"Right," Ren agreed. "So, now that you've reassured yourself that I am actually me and not a doppelganger left by aliens, shall we finish this battle?"

"All right. Don't think I plan to go easy on you, though."

"I wouldn't ask for anything less."

"Golem! Seismic Toss!" Roxanne commanded. Golem moved faster than Ren would have thought possible, grasping Zangoose by the upper arms with a vice-like grip and leaping high into the air.

"Damn it," Ren muttered. He hadn't counted on Zangoose remaining at close quarters long enough for Golem to take a hold of it if Seismic Toss did come out of the bag, but he had allowed himself to be distracted. There was only one way out. "Aerial Ace! Go high!"

Roxanne's eyes widened. "What?"

Ren chuckled at the look on her face as Zangoose slipped free of Golem's grip in midair, darting upwards in a flash to leave its opponent tumbling towards the ground, its balance lost. "Now strike!" Ren yelled, feeling Zangoose's rage as it flipped agilely in midair and slashed down towards Golem at lightning speed.

The Pokemon collided at ground level with an impact that rocked the arena, trapping Golem between Zangoose and the unforgiving rock floor. "Good job, Zangoose! Now move out and keep an eye on that thing," Ren ordered.

"B-but how?" Roxanne stammered. "Why did Zangoose know a Flying-type move?"

"It's useful for dealing with Fighting-types, mostly," Ren said. "I got Zangoose to learn it in order to cover his biggest weakness. Still, it comes in handy in other situations, too."

"No matter," Roxanne said, though Ren could tell she was struggling to retain her composure. "It won't do much against my Rock-type, that's for sure."

"You're wrong there," Ren countered. "In more than one way, actually."

"What? But Flying moves are ineffective against Rock Pokemon! They always have been!" Roxanne protested.

Ren held up two fingers. "One, due to the timing of the attack, Aerial Ace carried all the power of your Golem's Seismic Toss as well as its own. Not to mention that it had gravity on its side, which is uncommon for such a move. And secondly . . . the true power of any attack lies not in the move itself, but in how you use it. You were not expecting Zangoose to know Aerial Ace, so it took you by surprise, and that was the truly damaging part. If you hadn't been thrown off balance so much, you would have had time to counter. But as my mom always used to say, time's a-wasting! Zangoose! Brick Break, one more time! And make it good!"

Zangoose sprang towards Golem again, its claws glowing white. Before Roxanne or Golem could make a move, Ren's Pokemon brought down its claws on the top of Golem's shell in a fearsome blow, driving the Rock-type back a pace.

"Bulldoze!" Roxanne cried.

"Don't give it time to do that again, Zangoose! Press your advantage with a Crush Claw attack!"

Hissing rabidly, Zangoose grasped one of Golem's arms with its powerful claws. Driving its left shoulder into its opponent's body, it heaved the massive Rock-type over its right shoulder, sending it crashing into the ground behind it.

"Golem!" Roxanne cried. "Are you all right? Can you get up?"

Golem rumbled faintly, bracing itself on one arm as it tried to stand, but its limb gave out and it collapsed back to the ground with a final, creaking groan.

"I think we're done," Ren said, stepping forward out of his box and hunkering down to scratch Zangoose's head. "Good job, my little brawler."

"Yes . . . well done. You fought valiantly, Golem," Roxanne congratulated her Pokemon, returning it to its Poke Ball. "I believe you win, Ren," she said. "Congratulations. I'd award you the Stone Badge, but I think you may already have one."

"If I win five times, do I get a free one?" Ren asked cheekily, pulling a potion from his bag to spray on Zangoose's wounds.

"No frequent flyer miles here, Ren," the Gym Leader smiled. "But still, that was a fantastic battle. It always makes me happy to have a battle like that, regardless of whether I win or lose."

"That's not what you said three years ago," Ren teased. "At the time, you were quite reluctant to give up the badge."

"I . . . that's not true, I – oh, never mind that now," Roxanne said irritably. "Anyway, I'm glad to have been able to battle you again. Though I must say . . . you seemed different this time. It's not just that fire I was talking about earlier – you still have that in spades. What I mean is that you seem more . . . sure of yourself."

"Well, I guess that's natural, isn't it?" Ren shrugged as he returned Zangoose to its Poke Ball. "I'm the Champion now, after all. Sure, I wouldn't be up myself enough to walk into an arena and expect to win, but I guess I do feel a certain confidence."

"And all that stuff you were saying . . ." Roxanne said slowly as she made her way over to sit next to Natasha in the stands.

Puzzled, Ren followed her and sat down on Natasha's other side. "What stuff? I didn't say anything weird, did I?"

"Well, I don't know." Roxanne looked uncharacteristically unsure of herself. "It was almost as if your personality changed once the battle got started. I mean, not only were you suddenly completely confident, but you knew exactly what you were doing. It was just a short battle, but that was the impression I got. It's almost like you were . . . calculating everything."

"I was," said Ren simply. "It's something I discovered about a year ago or so. If you force yourself to think through every single possibility, your chances of winning practically skyrocket. If you can plan for every eventuality, you can beat anybody. The weird thing is, I can't apply that to anything but battling. Once I start a battle, I suddenly go into 'logic mode'. Everything sort of slows down, almost, and I start going through all the likely possibilities in my head. I've tried it with other things – maths, video games, and so on; all kinds of stuff – but I can't seem to make it work."

"That's . . . fascinating," Roxanne said, staring at him intently. Ren had a sudden, sinking feeling that she was about to- "Say, do you think you could come into my class this morning? Just, you know, to talk to the students about battling."

Dammit. Ren winced inwardly. For a moment, he considered refusing, but what excuse could he have made? His train didn't leave until noon, so he had plenty of time. No, he told himself firmly. You shouldn't be trying to think of excuses anyway. It's like Steven said – you just have to suck it up. And besides, this could be good for you. Even if you don't want to do it, it'll help you get used to it. It's just a small group! You did Hoenn Buzz yesterday – this should be nothing!

"Ah . . . Ren? Earth to Ren?" Roxanne was peering at him worriedly.

"What? Oh! Right, of course. No, that'd be fine."

"More things we have to do?" Natasha complained half-heartedly.

"Nah, this should be fun," Ren said decisively, trying to convince himself almost as much as his cousin. He stood up and took a couple of steps towards the door before turning back towards the two girls. "Coming?"

"Stop trying to act cool," Natasha warned as she hopped down off her seat and walked past him. "It's not going to impress her."

Ren spun and followed her briskly, avoiding Roxanne's amused eyes as they left the arena. Natasha was being a little too frank for his liking. And besides, it's ridiculous. She's wrong.

As it turned out, Roxanne's 'class' consisted of just two people, both of whom were waiting outside the Pokemon Academy when Ren, Roxanne and Natasha arrived. One was a tall, balding man in his late forties or early fifties, looking much like every corporate suit Ren had ever seen. He wore a shirt and tie and carried a briefcase, neither of which were particularly contradictory to that impression.

The other 'student' was a woman of about thirty, with straight, silvery-white hair that fell just past her shoulders, and a narrow, brown-skinned face with cool hazel eyes.

"Oh, are you two all that showed up?" Roxanne asked worriedly. "Where are the others?"

The woman shrugged, and the older man said, "I heard from Roger. His sister's getting married this weekend, so he couldn't make it and sends his apologies. I can't speak for the others, though."

"Well, all right!" Roxanne spoke with a cheerfulness that Ren sensed was a little forced. "They miss out on the treat I brought for you all today, then!"

"What am I, a chocolate brownie?" Ren grumbled.

Roxanne ignored his comment. "Ren, this is Marcus Price. He's one of the most influential businessmen in Rustboro City and a good friend of Mr. Stone."

"Nice to meet you," Ren said, hesitating slightly before offering his hand to Price.

"Likewise," Price said, clasping his hand with a curious look on his face. "Say, aren't you . . ."

"Ren Goodwin," Ren supplied. "Yes, that's me."

Price's face broke into a smile. "Good heavens, she's brought us the Champion."

Ren nodded awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Of course, Ren is here as a personal favour to me," Roxanne put in quickly, "so we must do our best to make him feel welcome. Oh, Ren – this over here is Vila Kashyenka. She came from overseas to study at the Academy."

Vila bowed stiffly, her expression unreadable. "It is good to meet you," she said, her voice layered with a musical accent that Ren couldn't place. "You are the one whom they call Champion, are you not?"

"Um, yes. I am," Ren said, bowing back a little uncomfortably. It felt strange and foreign. He hadn't had to give such a formal greeting to anyone before, but he felt somewhat obligated in the face of the oddly polite Vila.

"Then you are the one whom I must defeat," she said flatly.

"Uh . . ."

"I came to the Hoenn region because I was told that there are many strong Trainers here. In my country, there are few who train Pokemon. To learn to do so, I knew I must travel to a place other than my home. If I am to become a strong Trainer, I must defeat you. Is that right?"

"Well, not exactly . . ." Ren said, scratching his head awkwardly. "There are lots of strong Trainers who aren't Champions, you see. You don't have to be a Champion to prove you're good."

"Perhaps not, yet still I feel I must defeat you," she said frankly. "Will you promise to battle me some day?"

"O-of course," Ren said shakily, not quite following her strange logic.

"Anyway, now that we're here, let's go inside!" Roxanne said brightly, clearly trying to regain control of the situation. Ren shivered slightly at the blank, emotionless look Vila was giving him. The woman was more than a little disturbing, but he supposed he shouldn't be judgemental.

"Inside. Right," Marcus Price agreed. "It's cold out here."

As Roxanne stepped past to open the door, Price sidled closer to Ren and muttered in his ear, "Don't let Vila get to you. She's like that with everyone."

"You know her?" Ren asked, equally quietly, watching Roxanne struggle with the key out of the corner of his eye.

"Not as such. She's actually a member of the Qirfan diplomatic corps. They're based in Saffron over in the Kanto region, of course, but I hear she's on leave specifically to attend the Academy here. She's taken it upon herself to be as standoffish as possible to everyone, without actually giving anybody reason to take offense."

"Sounds like an interesting woman," Ren whispered drily.

"Oh, certainly," Price chuckled. "But like I say, don't mind her. I have to say, though," he continued at a normal volume, "it's quite an honour to meet you."

"Is that so?" Ren said blankly, for want of something more intelligent to say. "So are you planning to be a Pokemon Trainer yourself, Mr Price?"

"Oh, it's Marcus. I insist. But in any case, you see, I plan on retiring soon. I'm not all that old, but I'm getting tired of the corporate world. And with my family all overseas, I figure I'm going to need something to do in order to pass the time. Trouble is, I'd never had time to train Pokemon when I was a youngster, so I have to start from scratch. It's a little embarrassing to go back to school and learn it from the most basic level, but there are a lot of people in my position. There are about eight people in the class most weekends, but I don't know where they all are today."

"That's all right. To be honest, I don't think I could have managed any larger of a group," Ren said weakly.

"Ah! Got it!" Roxanne exclaimed as the door swung open at last. "Come on in, all . . . three of you."

Obediently, Ren, Natasha and Marcus trooped in behind Vila and Roxanne, the latter of which was already in full schoolteacher mode.

"We'll have to adjust the lesson plan for today to accommodate our guest," she said as she led them down a long hallway, shoes clacking on the brown tiles. "As we're the only ones here today, the quad will be free, so we should use that. If Ren's all right with it, we'll have him assist me in the lesson."

"Ah . . . I'm not sure if I'm just behind or something, Roxanne, but . . . what exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" Ren asked, suddenly realising that the topic hadn't actually come up.

"I'm sure we'll think of something," Roxanne said airily as Ren caught up to her.

"You mean you hadn't already?" Ren asked in disbelief. "I was kind of under the impression you had something planned."

"Well, we can't all plan for every eventuality. My lesson plan for today didn't account for the remote possibility of the Champion appearing in class."

"You're gonna make fun of me for that forever, aren't you?" Ren asked with a sigh.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Roxanne said simply. "Here we are."

She had stopped before a door that looked little different to any other – painted that ubiquitous, sickly shade of beige that Ren had seen in every school he'd ever passed through, set with a pane of frosted glass that prevented anybody from seeing in or out. Ren had no idea why schools insisted on doing that. It wasn't as if they had anything in particular to hide.

This door, however, did not open onto a classroom. Instead, when Roxanne turned the doorknob, it revealed something quite unexpected. Ren had heard Roxanne say 'quad', so he had of course expected something outdoors, but what he saw was a little more than he had been expecting.

After passing through a short brick corridor, Ren found himself standing in an open area the size of a football field, a roughly rectangular quadrangle surrounded on all sides by the two-storey, brown-brick wall of the Pokemon Trainers' Academy. Trees lined the area, forming a miniature wall of forestry almost five metres thick. A neat cobbled path led through the layer of trees to the central part of the courtyard, a large, sunny expanse dotted with benches and tables. Spread between the assorted picnic paraphernalia lay three regulation Gym-sized Pokemon battlefields not unlike the one Ren and Roxanne had recently faced off across.

Ren noticed immediately that the battlefields had seen some use recently; there were furrows in the ground where the grass had not grown back yet and some of the vegetation had been wantonly trampled. Other than the battlefields, though, the courtyard could have been any park in Hoenn. The grass was perfectly manicured, and soft sounds of birdsong filtered through from the lush border of trees that hid much of the building's inelegant façade.

"Welcome to the Academy's outdoor training ground, Ren," Roxanne said as she led them towards the nearest battlefield. "The Academy, of course, possesses multiple battlefields of many different kinds, but these ones are favourites for many of the students."

"So how are we going to do this, then?" Ren asked, surveying the area critically. "Another battle as a demonstration?"

"Yes, I think that sounds like a good idea. But," Roxanne said archly, "I can think of a better opponent for you than me."

"Oh, really?" Ren glanced around. The five of them seemed to be the only ones present. "Who's that, then?"

With a slightly mischievous smile, Roxanne pointed. "Vila."

For the first time since Ren had met the woman, Vila's face showed emotion. Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, are you?" Ren added, frowning. "That's kind of a mismatch, isn't it?"

"You're right, of course," Roxanne agreed. "That's why, rather than a straight-up battle, you'll participate in a contest."

"What . . . kind of contest?" Ren asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing out of the ordinary for you," Roxanne said casually. "You'll just be fighting a battle like normal. As Vila doesn't have her Pokemon Trainer's license yet, she can borrow one of the Pokemon owned by the Academy." Roxanne produced a Poke Ball from somewhere and tossed it to the still flummoxed-looking Vila.

"So what is the catch?" Vila asked as she caught it, her eyes narrowed.

"There must be one," Ren agreed. "Otherwise there's nothing out of the ordinary about the battle."

"Of course," Roxanne said. "The victory conditions will differ for each Trainer. Ren, as the more experienced party, will have to knock out his opponent's Pokemon entirely to win. Vila, on the other hand, has only to land a hit on Ren's Pokemon in order to be declared the winner."

"What?" Ren exclaimed. Surprising even him, his mind began to tick into gear. Defeating an inexperienced opponent in a one-on-one battle would not be difficult, but if he had to do it without his Pokemon taking a single hit . . . The best bet would be to finish the match in a single blow. Given that Vila would be using a Pokemon owned by the Academy, it should be doable. Academy Pokemon were docile so as to be easier for rookie Trainers to handle, and were not overly powerful for the same reason. Of course, it would all come down to the type matchup . . .

"Ren?"

"Huh?" He blinked in sudden surprise. "What is it?"

Roxanne sighed. "I said, I'll be choosing your Pokemon too, just to ensure it's fair."

Ren winced slightly. "Err . . . do you have to?" That would remove any possible advantageous type matchup he might be able to create.

"I do." Roxanne seemed to be enjoying herself far too much, he noted with some irritation. "In any case, you'll be using your Manectric. I think that will level the playing field a little."

"In other words, you're setting me up against a Ground-type Pokemon. Am I right?"

"Maybe. In any case, you need to hurry up and get to the battlefield, Ren! Vila's waiting for you!"

It was true, Ren noticed with a start; Vila had already moved to take up her position at the far end of the nearest battlefield.

"Will you come, Champion?" she called, her face once again unreadable. "This promises to be . . . interesting."

"Hmph," Ren chuckled. "You sure know how to mess with a guy, don't you? Roxanne." Moving swiftly, he stepped into his box on the battlefield and dug Manectric's Poke Ball out from his backpack.

"Undoubtedly," Roxanne smiled. "But still, I'd like to see if you can do this. And because it's not technically a Pokemon battle, as such, it won't matter if you lose."

"What makes you think I might lose?" Ren asked, tapping the release switch on his Poke Ball with a practiced movement. With a familiar crackling noise and the unmistakeable smell of ozone, Manectric burst onto the field, its crested yellow head held proudly high.

Its lithe blue body stretching powerfully, Manectric gave an eager howl overlaid with a tumultuous rumble of thunder. Ren smiled. "You're ready to go, I see."

"He is not the only one!"

"Hm?" Ren glanced up to see Vila releasing a flash of red light from her own Poke Ball. With a squeak, it coalesced into a small, yellow, rat-like Pokemon with shiny black eyes that rolled up into a ball at the sight of its opponent.

"Sandshrew . . ." Vila said, with the air of somebody trying to figure out how to break down a wall with a toothpick.

"A Ground-type, just like I thought," Ren noted. "Still, it's not going to do you any good."

"Aren't we confident all of a sudden?" Natasha prodded.

"I can't afford not to be," Ren said. "A Champion can't be afraid of anything."
 

for him.

I'm trash.
860
Posts
13
Years
  • Age 28
  • Seen Aug 6, 2023
I have become one very lazy person so I didn't get to read much of what I missed and I barely remember where I left off. (I plan to read this story again from the beginning at a later date, which will be soon.) I did however, helped myself to the last two updates with this fan fiction.

I admire your ability to write a battle. It takes me many tries to get one right. I can imagine the scene in my head, but I tend to repeat the obvious and soon the flow of the battle is really off and awkward. Because of the disruption of the flow, the battle completely falls apart. It can just take me days to write a battle that is somewhat decent. I wish I had your ability to write a good battle sequence.

I didn't find too much wrong with this and I am a bit lazy to point them out, but you are doing a splendid job with this fan fiction so far. :D
 

luxuriate

Original Trainer
44
Posts
12
Years
Nice, I particularly enjoyed the latest update.
It seems quite a challenge Roxanne has burdened the Champion with, but liking his moxie.
 
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