Written in the Stars

Started by Lord_Maikadal October 2nd, 2006 2:24 AM
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Seen February 19th, 2007
Posted October 16th, 2006
3 posts
16.8 Years
Okay, this is my first Pokémon fanfiction, so there may be some rough edges…so please bear with me here. Criticism, no matter how constructive it may be, is welcomed.

And while there is little to no mention of actual Pokémon in this chapter, rest assured that this is a Pokémon fic.

Written in the Stars

Wind whipped in the face of Avery Vries, an indication of the storm to come. Leaves were falling off of the large oak trees surrounding the pathway to the manor, being whipped violently as the mighty gusts had their way with them. Dark storm clouds covered the skies, and the occasional flash of lightning cast shadows of the mighty oaks that flickered like a candle before disappearing and leaving Avery staring at the cobblestone.

Something about the narrow path seemed ominous, like it was always stormy in this particular area; Vries pushed it off into the recesses of his mind and tried to concentrate on the task ahead of him. A large leaf blew into his face and stuck there until he peeled it off and let it go to the side of him, watching it as it danced around in the air until it was out of sight.

A few raindrops fell through the canopy of foliage and smattered the path so the slabs of rock seemingly haphazardly tossed there became shinier and slippery. The rain seemed to avoid Avery, for the most part, which he was most thankful for.

As he got closed and closed to the manor, which he could now faintly see, he became more and more aware of his body temperature dropping. By the time he could clearly see the manor through the thickening fog, he fully realized that while it may be summer all over the rest of the world, it was a cold spring day here.

He walked up to the door and observed a great knocker of which the shape to him was foreign; it seemed to be a creature of some sort, with a mouth and pair of eyes, but it didn’t look like any Pokémon he had ever seen, and it certainly wasn’t human.

Finding the door locked and no other obvious way of getting someone to open it, he grabbed on of the knockers and quickly jerked his hand back. It felt as if all of the heat was drained from his body in an instant, and he quickly dropped the knocker onto the sturdy wooden frame of the door. The knock echoed through the forest and the manor, leaving an odd reverberation in its wake.

Avery stood there and waited for a minute as heat returned to his body, little by little. The fog around him seemed to grow even denser, and now he could not see down the side of the building, or even the forest surrounding the path through which he came. Finally, the door crept open, revealing an intimidating man in a long black cloak. A hood covered most of his head, save for his nose, which appeared to be sticking out at an odd angle.

“You here to see The Master?” grumbled the mysterious stranger in a gruff voice.

“Y-y-yes, I am,” stuttered the significantly smaller Avery, leading the larger man to shake his head in disgust and move out of Avery’s way.

The doorman of sorts gave Avery instructions before walking off to another part of the house, through an ornate door to the right of a grand staircase. Avery walked up the staircase, marveling at the design and the expensive carvings on banister. The steps were perfectly carved diamonds of marble, like the rest of the floor, and he soon found himself immersed in the complex designs of the house; it was so perfect, so neat, so uniform, that it seemed to be a museum rather than living quarters.

He meandered down the hallway, entering the third door on the right, and found himself in a sparsely-lit waiting room-like area. Candles rimmed the walls with a lantern on a desk nearly pushed up against the wall to his right.

He checked to make sure his deck was still in the pouch strung into his belt, reassured himself that everything would be fine, and got the attention of the receptionist- another person, slightly smaller this time, wearing the same black cloak as the person who ‘greeted’ him.

The cloaked figure lifted it’s head from its book and cleared it’s throat before speaking.

“Are you here to see The Master?” Asked the voice, this one slightly feminine with a raspy edge.

Imbued with more self-assurance than before, Vries confidently stated, “Yes, I am. I was told by someone to come-”

“Sit there and wait for him. You are the fortune teller, are you not? You don’t seem very magical to me- are you a fake?”

“I am the fortune teller,” Vries began, “And no, I am not a sham,” he confidently lied.

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you aren’t a real Seer; you don’t have the mysticism about you. But don’t worry; I’m not going to say anything. The Master doesn’t really believe in the whole ‘Don’t kill the messenger’ thing, so it wouldn’t be my place to alert him. I just hope you can lie better to him than you did to me.” Despite the hood, Avery could tell that she was positively gleeful at his predicament, most likely sporting a sadistic smile adorning her probably hag-like features.

He sat down on one of the uncomfortably hard chairs on the opposite wall of the room, shuffling his deck, meditating for the task to come. He had never expected this when he signed yup for drama class in high school, but carnival fortune telling was a big business, and this particular job offered a big paycheck.

Now he was having second thoughts- the whole place seemed eerie, from the ominous fog to the cloaked figures- and he wasn’t sure if he should complete the job or get up and run like a bat out of hell.

Noting he probably wouldn’t make it to the door before being decapitated by a raving axe murderer (in a cloak, of course), he decided to wait and see how this played out.

The receptionist tilted her head slightly to the left, letting her neck crack with a sickening crunch before returning to her book. Without looking up, she uttered in her hoarse voice, “The Master will see you now. Good luck.” Again, with an unseen sadistic smile, she waved her hand in the direction of a door to the left of her desk and went back to reading.

Avery murmured his thanks and entered the door, which lead to an even darker room. He stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind him, then turned forward. In the darkness, he could just make out a chair in the middle of the small room, facing a large shadowed part of the room.

The only light didn’t seem to exist, as there were no candles lighting the room. No light peeked out from the room he had come from and it certainly wouldn’t come under the thick oaken door, which was still slowly creaking shut.

The moment the door fully closed, Avery felt all warmth leave his body, sucked out of him like water down a drain. The cold was becoming unbearable; he could not even bring himself to shiver, the cold was pressing down so hard, he felt as if he would die.

Then, the heat seemed to be completely gone; nothing was left but the black abyss of frozen air around him. His limbs felt heavy, his vision clouded, and he felt the air being sucked out of him next.

Then, a voice came from the shadows. “Sit,” it commanded, and by this time, Avery was in no mood to disobey, so he sat cross-legged on the floor.

Thank you for coming, Mr. Vries. It is a pleasure having you,” spoke the shadow again; it was very hoarse, as if it was not accustomed to speaking.

“Thank…thank you,” replied Avery, who was too dizzy to be scared.

You obviously know why I called you here, so get on with it- tell me of what is to come,” rattled the voice; Avery could just barely make out small puffs of fog coming from the figure’s mouth as it spoke, and each of it’s breaths was drawn out and forced, as if it was a dying animal.

Avery’s reply was to pull out the deck from a pouch on his belt and shuffle the cards once more before setting them down. He made some obscure hand motions, whispered a few ‘magic words,’ and prayed for the best. He reached out, beyond The Known, to the untold world of spiritual demise; he had never found a friend here, never experienced a real vision, but now was as good a time as any.

And to his surprise, the spirits answered back to his pleas of help. The entered his body and spread, through his limbs, into his fingertips, warming him with the knowledge of eons past and the years yet to come.

He placed a trembling hand over his deck and tapped it with his fingers, as he had been instructed during a crash course in fortune telling after dropping out of college, and felt the magic in the deck assert itself over The Known. His senses momentarily sharpened, and for the first time in his life, he felt the flows of magic around him- the darkness of this place seeped into him, corrupting him like a plague, before being driven away by the spirits advising him into matters beyond The Known. Back and forth the spirits battled, fighting for dominance over him, until his body finally reacted.

Violently, his spirit rose up and crushed the opposition, leaving him empty but undamaged; the deck was finally done with its ministrations, and order was restored to the room. The figure in the chair paid no heed to the man’s plight; he watched as the man’s soul just narrowly missed being possessed by spirits of light and darkness with a calm seclusion, a spectator to the near-cataclysmic distortion of the man’s mind.

Avery shook himself, trying to regain control of his mind and body; once he felt confident enough, he picked up the first five cards of the deck, lying them face-down in a row, and picked the second card from the left.

He placed it face up, in front of all of the others, and squinted through the darkness in an attempt to see it. It was a mish-mash of colors and strings, a rarely-seen symbol, and one that Avery knew he didn’t normally have in his deck. Had he not been terrified, he would have been giddy at the prospect of having touched the flows of magic; now, all he could do was tremble.

The seated figure also peered at the card, trying to get a closer look, but couldn’t make heads of tails of it, and stared impatiently at the fortune-teller. “Well?” he questioned, its impatience rising at the blatant look of all-encompassing fear on the cowardly fool’s face.

Avery nervously glanced up, for the first time seeing the soulless pits of blackness the creature called eyes. He lost himself in their depths for a moment before catching himself and stuttering a weak explanation of, “It looks like The Source, the beginning point of all roads and ending point of all empires.”

Though Avery could not see it, he could hear the smirk in the creature’s voice as it spoke in fake-dulcet tones, “Well, it seems that I have a bit of work to do. Now, hurry up and show me what else is in store.”

Avery picked up the next card from the deck, laying it on top of The Source. Avery squinted once again at the card, now more confident and excited, but the sight that greeted him drained all color left in his face.

It was blank.

Avery could do nothing but stutter out a meager, “Blank.”

The creature was stoic for a moment before letting out am resigned sigh, nearly freezing the blood in Avery’s veins. “Very well,” it began, “But the next time I see you, you had better be able to show me more than a florescent smattering of pasta,” warned the creature in dry sardonic tones, “Or else. You may leave now.”

Avery uncrossed his legs and felt the blood rush back to them as he got up and walked out of the room. The hag was no longer seated at the desk, and Avery showed himself out of the manor.

The moment he stepped on the stone pathway back to the main road, he began sprinting, and never looked back.
Seen February 19th, 2007
Posted October 16th, 2006
3 posts
16.8 Years
Godric Demarque woke up and rubbed the sleep out of his right eye early Monday morning, feverishly trying to awaken and only stopping when he irritated the bruise around the eye. He stepped out of bed, his bare feet feeling the cold, thin carpet that covered most of the household under his feet and proceeded to draw the curtains open.

The bright light of the morning sun streamed into the small, cozy room, catching him by surprise and causing him to stumble back onto bed. He yawned, stretched his gangly limbs, and took a glance at the calendar.

Seine 17.

The sight of the date caused Godric to forcibly open his eyes and stumble around the room, throwing on a black ribbed t-shirt along with a battered brown vest and jeans. He ran a hand through his disheveled raven black hair, further ruffling it.

On his way downstairs, he said a quiet hello to the other conscious members of the house, consisting of Sinistra the Kadabra, Languid the Slowbro, Trepid the Machoke, and Feral the Tauros, all belonging to Godric’s father, Romulus. He put the tea kettle on and muffled the sound, as to not wake his parents, before going to the back glass sliding door and opening it, stepping into the humid day for the first time.

Godric lived in Laif, far to the south in the open plains of the vastly flat Suria region, and the summer was scorching hot. A large dragonfly-like Pokémon passed in the distance; too large for a normal bug, Godric identified it as a Yanma as he set out to his morning chores. He pulled up all of the mature herbs from the garden, removed the few stubborn weeds, and watered all of the plants before re-entering the house to quiet the tea kettle down.

He was greeted by the sight of his bleary-eyed mother, Atris Demarque. She was a very formidable woman, despite her petite frame. Her hair color matched her sons’, except hers was down to her shoulder and in a messy bun at this time. She poured herself a cup of tea, as well as one for her son, and grabbed two eggs to fry on the stove with some bacon and a piece or two of sausage. Godric proceeded to get out the pancake batter and poured some into a pan before joining his mother at the stove and beginning to cook.

Next in came Godric’s father, Romulus Demarque, who had in his youth been a trainer. He managed to get six badges before settling down with the woman now at the stove and having a child. Now, even when his Journeying days were well over, he kept his Pokémon around the house to help out. Godric was more like him in stature rather than his mother; long, gangly limbs and a tall but thin frame. Godric also had his icy gray eyes, although his were significantly brighter than the perpetually weary looking ones that Romulus had.

Now that he was finished with Journeying, he kept a garden and was a business partner with his brother, Remus. He made periodic trips there on the ferry. From the ferry, it was only a short twenty minute walk to the city- much less tiring and dangerous than going through ten mile, Pokémon filled Route 816.

Atris worked as an assistant and secretary to Narcissa Falmouth, one of eight daughters of the Sovereign of Suria, Beck Falmouth. Narcissa was still young, only about thirty or so, and one of the most successful trainers to come from the area already- she filled her parents’ shoes well. She had a gym in the city, though she very rarely had to fight a challenger, due to her difficult ranking and her distance from the league tournament, as Laif was far out of the way of any cities.

Narcissa Ketchum also helped run the nearby Pokémon reserve and research center, along with the famous researcher Elias Bern and Professor Hannah Holly, the resident authority over the distribution and control of all Pokémon for the Laif- Puress region. Bern was a crotchety old man coming upon the last of his days, and Holly was a kind young woman who overworked herself to no end- quite the combination.

They all sat down to eat breakfast, Godric thinking bout the road ahead, Atris thinking about her baby (of fourteen years) leaving home, and Romulus slightly hung-over from the yearly farewell party the night before, and subsequently not thinking of much so as to not irritate his headache further. Romulus broke the silence by asking his son how the weather was, all of them skirting around the looming topic of good-byes.

Godric eventually got up, helped clean the table, and hurried upstairs to brush his teeth and shower. Afterwards, he gingerly applied a few herbs around his eye to make the bruise surrounding it go down and patted it gently, as to try to soothe the muscle. He got his half-full pack, and began to get the rest of his gear together.

His parents gave him about $30, which was all they could realistically spare for him with their fiscal situation, and helped him pack the last of his things- modest food rations, clean clothes, and probably most importantly, his underwear. With everything ready, his parents said goodbye to him and wished him safe passage, reminded him to call, made sure he had all of his things, made him promise he wouldn’t do anything stupid, told him to call at every Pokécenter he got to when he arrived, and wished him safe passage one last time. With much wriggling on the part of Godric, they bade each other goodbye as he kissed his mother and hugged his father for the last time in what may have been several months.

He looked around at his surrounding, glanced at his watch that was adorned with an Onix on the outer rim, and bean walking down the street to the Laif Lab and Pokémon Ranch.

He passed the intricately-patterned iron wrought gates of some of the richer kids’ manors before finally reaching the large dome-topped building that was the entrance to the research facility and academy.

After passing a few doors he turned and entered room M-12, taking his seat at the back of the class. Near the front, Mortimer Carmichael, or Morty as he was known as, was telling about his plans to capture the legendary birds, beat the Indigo League Championships, and take the title of Pokémon master from the now fifty-three year ‘old’, if one could ever truly call the man old, Xanaroth Bell. He would reformat the league so you had to pay a large entrance fee to get in, and make sure that none of the Pokémon were wasted on poor losers like Godric. Morty was intimidating, sure, but not all that bright. His black hair seemed to be slicked back with motor-oil (while in reality it was probably a French product that cost his family a fortune) and he himself was built like Graveler. Or a compact car, for that matter.

Professor Skylarke came into the room and everyone sat down and became quiet while he took attendance. The class was made up of only ten people- Godric; Morty; Timothy Dupont, an uptight blonde boy with his nose constantly in a book; Alexis McCormick and Kelly Peakes, two blonde half-sisters that drooled over Morty as a profession; Monica, a rich redhead who hated the middle to lower class with passion; Vincent Barnol, a large and not-so-bright crony of Morty’s with a knack for stupidity (and, on occasion, pain); Rosalyn, a somewhat-manly brunette friend of Monica with not-so-many ideas of her own; Lily, a petite redhead who was friends with Monica and mused about how pathetic not-rich people were in comparison to her; and finally Richard Scrimmerant, a scrawny middle-class kid with a passion for fire Pokémon.

They all went through the lesson, finishing with the Pokémon oath, and began to take the final exam. It wasn’t too hard for those who had studied, or had a soul for that matter, and the grades were processed instantly. Needless to say, Godric passed with very high marks, rivaled only by Tim and (somewhat surprisingly) Alexis; Morty and Vince passed by the skin of their teeth, but only because they sat next to Richard, who didn’t fare to well himself in the ‘battle strategies’ section; Roslyn, Monica, Lily and Kelly did somewhat well, but only because of Monica’s knowledge of battling from her uncle Mordecai (also a Falmouth). Since they all passed, the first ones to get their Pokémon were the highest scorers- Godric, Tim and Alexis.

Tim went in first, and came out with a very smug look on his pale, sallow face before setting out. Alexis entered next, and too looked pleased before saying her final goodbyes to her friends and leaving. Godric opened the door and joined Skylarke, sitting on the chair after being instructed to. on the metallic-looking chair before getting wired in.

“This machine will select a Pokémon that will go best with your personality,” began Skylarke in a bored tone. “Just sit down and relax; clear your thoughts and open your mind.”

Godric felt at ease; his tension ebbed away, but it eventually returned just as quickly. His eyes fluttered open, and he stood up and went over to join Professor Skylarke, hunched over some Pokéballs. “Alrighty then,” began Skylarke; he sounded amused, and when he was amused, something was bad. “I have your results.” He then excused himself and started coughing outside of the room, although the coughs sounded suspiciously like…chuckles? For Godric, anything would have sounded great- truth be told, all Godric wanted was a non-Igglybuff Pokémon and a map, and he would be ready to go.

Hell, he could do without the map, if need be.

”Well, actually, we have to give you some spare Pokéballs, so here you go. Lets see, what else. Ah, yes. Your cell phone, map, watch, camera-”

“Camera? What’s this for?”

“Ah yes, the camera. Pokémon migration has caused Pokémon to come up in areas other than their original native homes. It is requested that all Pokémon Trainers who see Pokémon that are not where they normally are seen are to take pictures and report it to the Pokémon League Research Department. Anything else that you need? Ah, of course. Your very own Pokédex, I.D. #817326. And one last thing, your standard issue trainer backpack, complete with water bottles, hot and cold packs, and freeze-dried tofu. Oh yes, and a towel, compliments of Silph Co. I swear, management is getting odder and odder every year…”

Wanting to be spared from a classic Professor Skylarke rant, Godric exited the doors into the main hallway and was about to leave when he heard a voice call out

“Hey loser! Got a losing Pokémon yet?” Naturally, it was Morty; Godric was very tempted to bang his head on a desk (or any other surface for that matter) just to lower himself to Morty’s level, but just sighed and with a shake of his head kept on walking right out the doors.

Godric, wanting to give his Pokédex a go and also meeting his new Pokémon, flipped open the small red calculator-looking machine, pressed a sequence of buttons, and after seeing some disturbing Poké-breeding images, found out how to scan a Pokémon.

Godric released his Pokémon. It blinked its large, vulpine eyes a few times, as if adjusting to the light of the mid-morning sun. The small fox yawned and trotted to its trainer, and looked up expectantly, the pouf of what seemed like light fur adorning its head like a tiara waving in the light breeze. Its two red tails stood at full attention, only slightly moving with the wind towards the north, coming off of the Barrens, a sure sign of a storm to come. Godric pointed his Pokédex at it and pressed scan.

“Vulpix, the small fox Pokémon (female). At birth, Vulpix has just one tail. However, as it ages, it can grow up to six. Vulpix is very cunning and can feign injury to escape from battle. The ideal Vulpix should have a bright red coat, and have a pouf of fur at the top of its head. For more in-depth breeder information, please press L3 now. For moves, press L4. Moves: Ember. Tail whip. Quick attack. It naturally may learn some if not all of the following: Safeguard. Roar. Confuse ray. Flamethrower. Flame wheel. Fire Spin. For evolution, press L5. For diet, press L6. For-” Godric flipped the Pokédex closed and glanced down at the cute little fox.

“Hello there, little lady, I am yo-.”

“Oh wait a SECOND. What do we have here? Mr. Charity Scholarship ready to leave? Yeah, that’s looks about right. Lets battle, so I can show you how I shake things up!” Of course, this was Morty, flanked by Vince. Not that Vince actually said any of this. He did, however, show some brain power and got a grunt out somewhere in there, before collapsing into wheezy giggles after the ‘Mr. Charity Scholarship’ comment. You may think a two fifteen year old boys could come up with something better than loser and Mr. Charity Scholarship, but you are obviously overestimating these two fifteen year old boys.

“How about a one-on-one, so your buddy Vince over here doesn’t have to think and hurt himself?” Godric confidently challenged.

“Hey loser, who you calling stupid…you’re a…a…loser! Yea! A LOSER!” Vince tried biting back, ending up looking foolish.

“You shouldn’t be talking Vince, I think you already busted a muscle,” bit back Godric.

“Hey, keep your loser comments to yourself and battle me!” Morty this time, seeing as Vince couldn’t make up a comeback of his own.

“Alright, lets go. Care to wager anything?”

“Yea, half of the money Professor Holly gave us. Lets wager that.” Now, while going into battle with stakes this high was a very stupid decision by Godric, he had to show Morty who was boss once and for all. So, he accepted, and the battle began.

Godric sent out his Vulpix, which at the time was biting on his shoe. Now it was Morty’s turn to laugh.

“Hah! That further proves your loserness…ship. What a girly Pokémon.”

“We’ll see who’s girly when she royally kicks your arse,” bit back Godric.

“Yea, right loser. Lets see him beat this!” And with this, Morty sent out his Pokémon. A small dog-like creature appeared on a nearby rock the size of a Golem. A pouf of fire adorned its canine head and a long, bushy, fiery tail wagged in the breeze. It raised a paw to lick and lost its balance, tumbling down to the grass below, but quickly recovered. It perked its ears up and spun its head wildly around and upon sighting the Vulpix, began to growl. It was larger than the Vulpix by a few inches and quite a few pounds. This wouldn’t be an easy fight.

“Okay loser, let's go! Growlithe, start off with a tackle attack!” Growlithe pawed the ground; once, twice; then it broke off at a run towards the Vulpix. However, the Vulpix was further occupied at the moment with a tree; it took a small rock and kicked it at the tree, only to have it rebound and hit it on the nose. It then kicked the rock harder in frustration, determined to beat the tree.

“Dodge it Vulpix!” Vulpix jumped out of the way of the rock, and Growlithe sped right into the tree; at this point, however, he was not the enemy. The rock was going down.

“Try an ember Vulpix!” The small fox opened its mouth, and a small fireball formed. It shot the fireball at the rock, thinking it was still the target, knocking it into the Growlithe’s behind, as the Growlithe attempted to get its head out of a low Taillow’s nest. The rock caused the Growlithe to jump, and its head was dislodged; it turned its attention back to the Vulpix, growling furiously with fire in its eyes.

“Use roar Growlithe! That should do the trick!”

The Growlithe snarled and concentrated for a minute before tilting its head back and barking like a rabid dog. All the Vulpix did was **** its head to the side innocently and continue to stare at the Growlithe with its large, puppy-dog like eyes.

“Good! Now bite it Growlithe!”

The Growlithe sprung from its spot at the base of the tree and jumped to right behind the poor Vulpix before biting down hard on its tail. The Vulpix began to wail from the pain of having a large dog on its tail as tears began to well in its eyes.

“Vulpix, hold on! Try doing a quick attack to the tree, but then hit it with your tails!” The Vulpix seemed to understand this well enough, as it weakly got to its legs and tried running at the tree before collapsing a few feet. It hobbled the rest of the way and used all of the momentum it had to swing its whole body- Growlithe and all- around, as its tails connected with the tree. The Growlithe got the full impact of the hit, and released its grasp on the Vulpix’s tails before hitting the ground with a thud. The Growlithe growled a bit, but couldn’t bring itself to stand as the Vulpix shakily got up and leaned into the tree for support.

By now they had a crowd, consisting of quite a few people from the town, including the research team from the lab and some of the trainers from the gym.

“And the winner is- Vulpix!” came the voice of none other than the auburn-haired beauty, Narcissa Falmouth- or Aunt Cissa as Godric called her, although they weren’t related. Godric recalled the Vulpix back to its ball as he followed a beckoning Narcissa back to the gym. He ran back to get his money from Morty, which he supplied due to the presence of a Gym Leader, and then ran to catch up with Narcissa.

He and Narcissa were very close; he was as close to a son as the young thirtysomething ever had. Since Godric’s mother was Narcissa’s personal assistant, she met him at an early age; he spent quite a few hours hanging around the gym, and helped take care of some Pokémon at the ranch in the summer holidays to support his family.

“So, are you two beginning your journey today?” asked Narcissa as they entered a pagoda off of the main gym. They removed their shoes out of respect as they entered while Narcissa took Vulpix’s Pokéball over to the healers in the gym to be refreshed.

“Yes, I were planning on leaving right away, but I got into some trouble-” began Godric.

“Trouble? Ya did fine kiddo. You may even follow in my dad’s footsteps. Better than last night when he socked you in the eye though kid. Damn rich kids,” with that Narcissa shook her head in disgust and gulped down some scalding broth.

“Yes; but that wasn’t personal. I would never drag Pokémon into a personal conflict,” stated Godric in a practiced voice; it was one of the first things he had learned in the training, and he drolly repeated it so much that it had stuck in his mind.

“Wise words kid, wise words. For once Holly and Skylarkle might’ve known what they were teaching. You’ll get your break kid, I have faith in ya. And every dog has its day; its just a matter of time before that punk Marty gets his just desserts anyways. Now, I have to go take care of some sick Kingler at the ranch. You know the way out. Good luck on your Journey!” And with that, she slurped up the rest of the soup she was eating and jogged out to the pasture. Godric put his shoes back on their feet and began to walk into the afternoon sun, onto Route 816, and onto bigger and better things.
Seen February 19th, 2007
Posted October 16th, 2006
3 posts
16.8 Years
Thanks Akinari!
Chapter 2, Part 1- Under the Midnight Flame

The sun placidly beat down upon Godric as he traversed the famous Route 816. It was told generation to generation that some of the most celebrated Pokémon trainers alive had traveled down this route first on their way to glory and fame, not the least of which being Beck Falmouth. As the legend goes, he walked down Route 816 with his Sevipet about forty-three years ago, and we all know how that story ends, now don’t we?

Vulpix trotted at his side, quickly darting from one side of the path to the other, eager to feel the wind in it’s hair and the sun on it’s back. Of course Godric had tried re-calling her to a Pokéball, but Vulpix just kept dodging the red beam, as if it were a game.

“Hey, lets see if the Pokédex has anything to say about Route 816. Besides, I need a rest. My feet are killing me.”

“Route 816. After the Great Pokémon Migration, Route 816’s native species doubled, now not only including Spearow, Pidgey, and Ratatta, but also Sentret, Furret, the occasional Hoothoot (especially at night), and various bug Pokémon. It is only about ten miles long, one of the shortest routes, and most trainers spend only a day or two here.”

Vulpix’s ears suddenly perked up, and it placed its head close to the ground. Its nose was almost glued to the floor as it ran off, and Godric had no choice but to run to catch up to it.

It began to pick up the pace, a walk turning into a jog, a jog turning into a run. Soon enough, Godric was sprinting to catch up with the tiny fox, which stopped suddenly, causing Godric to trip over a rock and fall on his face, covering it in dirt.

Vulpix then turned its head to its quarry, a disposed popsicle wrapper, and began to lick out the insides. Godric, who had anticipated the Vulpix leading it to a Pokémon to battle, was disappointed as he got up and brushed himself off.

After trying to reprimand his Vulpix, which proved impossible due to the large puppy-dog eyes staring back at him, he knelt down and began to lightly straighten Vulpix’s fur with his hand, patting it down from where it got stuck on twigs and removing all of the small pieces of rock from it. As soon as he stood, he noticed a rustling in the bushes. His first logical thought was a Pokémon, seeing as popsicle wrappers don’t commonly rustle bushes. That’s strictly a Pokémon thing.

“Vulpix, go check those bushes over there, quick! I think I see a Pokémon!” Vulpix trotted into the bushes, only to come out a second later covered in string.

<Mehhh! > cried the small Vulpix. Still young, with only two tails, it was not able to speak understandably yet (for humans at least). However, since members of the lupine group of Pokémon were usually exceedingly intelligent, it would learn in no time. But for now, ‘Mehhh!!!’ would have to do.

A small green caterpillar with a double-pronged red feeler on it’s head emerged. As the Caterpie crawled out of the bush and looked curiously around for it’s attacker, Godric saw a chance to strike and didn’t waste any time.

“Use Ember Vulpix!” shouted an exited Godric, not realizing that Vulpix was still covered in the sticky string.

Vulpix opened her mouth to create a fireball, but the fireball caught the netting on fire, and soon enough, Vulpix was a small ball of flame.

“Err…Alright, do a flaming tackle!” Now, if you have ever tried to do something while on fire, you know it is not easy. Even tying a shoe can be hard work (if just for the sole reason you are on fire). So, it is understandable that Vulpix first hit a tree, which Godric had to stamp out the fire on, before she actually hit Caterpie (although it would have been progressively harder if the Caterpie wasn’t laughing it’s ruddy little arse off…imagine that, a condescending Caterpie…).

Godric, now with Caterpie safely incapacitated and the tree fire safely out, and Vulpix not-so-safely still on fire, threw a Pokéball at the small form of the Caterpie. The ball didn’t even shake once, which was a bit of a disappointment, seeing as in all of the shows he watched, it was supposed to shake a bit at least. He put the newly acquired Caterpie on his belt and tensed as Vulpix put it’s nose to the ground again and sniffed a bit before choosing a direction.

Vulpix quickly began off on the trail of another scent. This time, it was more of a winding path, involving the agile little fox jumping over hedges, darting between saplings, and hopping into and out of a small babbling brook (which put out the fire, thankfully), but the end result was the same- it found a small trinket, this time a locket, and then settled down to lick its paws. Godric scooped the locket up and put it in his pocket before managing to sneak up on Vulpix and putting her back in her Pokéball.

He was in the middle of a small clearing, and besides the locket, there was a half-empty bottle of perfume and a small Gardevoir charm that looked like it belonged on a bracelet. Godric also put these in his back before he began to walk north.

The sky darkened a bit as Godric continued going north; determined not to be deterred by rain, he quickened his pace, breaking into a sprint as a cloud broke near him and lightning crashed into a tree about twenty feet away.

Seeing the danger, he rushed into a small cavern to escape the storm. A few feet in he sat down on a flat rock on one of the walls and began to catch his breath.


He put his head into his hands as he began to drift off, slouching on his makeshift seat. The rhythm of the rain pounding the roof of the cave combined with the steady beat of thunder and the occasional flash of lightning to create a cacophony of nature; art in its simplest form.

Vulpix came out of its Pokéball and simply stood at the mouth of the cave, watching the storm. It trotted over to its new trainer and snuggled with him, and they both fell into a peaceful sleep.

Godric was awoken a few hours later by a bright light, and blearily opened his eyes to see one of Vulpix’s tails glowing. As quickly as it began, it ended, and the tail split into two, making the tail total three. He looked outside of the cave to see the moon was out, glowing upon the forest. The rain had stopped, leaving the ground wet and muddy, but the scent from the rain remained. Deciding to go for a walk, he stepped out, recalled Vulpix to its Pokéball, and began to trek through the mucky forest.

With the full moon shining down on him, he walked over roots exposed by running water, smelling in the fresh scent of a recent storm. It was so tranquil, so beautiful, so peaceful, and Godric felt like he could walk like this forever.

Only if he knew that tranquility doesn’t last. Poor sod.

The thing that broke the peaceful night (and Godric’s eardrums) was the scream of a girl. Or screams rather, for as soon as the first ended, another began. Godric, being ever the inquisitive one, went to check out the origin of the screams.

He ran for a bit before he was close enough that he had to cover his ears to block out the shrill sound. He reached a small camp in the woods, where he saw a girl. Then he took a few more steps, when he promptly saw the cause of the disturbance- a large bear, with a nice, big, glowing circle with a line through it on its stomach.

An Ursaring, or so told the Pokédex. ‘Populates rocky, mountainous terrain’ my arse.

Not knowing what to do, Godric did the only logical thing; he ran to the girl and pulled her away from her camp and into a bush.

Unfortunately for him, this was met with another shrill scream and finally, a “Who in the hell are you?”

Now, Godric was not always welcome wherever he went. But his company had to be better than an Ursaring’s, right?

“I am Godric Demarque, and I just saved your arse, so I think that you should care to be a little more grateful.”

“Aren’t you the kid Mortimer punched when he got drunk at the farewell party?”

“Yes, that would be me. Well, now that we got introductions out of the way, what say you to the idea of us running away from your gentleman friend who has made the executive decision to thrash your camp?”

“You crazy? There must be at least five thousand dollars worth of camping stuff back there; we HAVE to go get it.”

“Well, erm, whoever you may be, have fun getting ripped to shreds, but I have time to keep. Ta-ta!”

“Wait…umm...err… poor kid who Morty punched! Errgh, what is your name? Whatever, that doesn’t matter right now. I’m Lily, and you have to help me. Your parents probably work for mine anyways. Now stop being cynical and lets go!”

“Well, aren’t you a lil’ bag of sunshine?” Godric began, getting angry at this girl’s I-am-holier-than-thou attitude. I mean really, who throws their weight this much? Not that this girl had much weight to throw around, only coming up to Godric’s shoulder and being thin enough to snap in two in the hands of an Ursaring. She, however, seemed not to have minded, as she ran out from behind the bush to try to get the bear’s attention away from her camp.

In all likelihood, she would get torn in half, slowly and meticulously, being in two or more pieces by the time Godric had reached Puress City. Hell, she may even stay that way for a while, maybe even until the fall batch of trainers left.

Now, there are some things you just don’t want on your conscience. This? Yep, you guessed it, this was one of them.

So, throwing caution to the wind, Godric called out his Caterpie and Vulpix to deal with the big menace of a bear.

“Caterpie, web his eyes! Vulpix, use ember!” Now, one may think of this as a good combination. However, this resulted in a frenzied bear…blinded by webbing…on fire. What a glorious way to die.

Morgue Report: Godric Drake Demarque and Lily Guinevere Maxxwell. Diagnosis: death by flaming bear.

Oh yes, that would go quite well.

Lily called out a Weedle, who promptly plugged quite a many barbs of poison in the back of the Ursaring, further enraging it. She quickly released her starter Pokémon, seeing that Weedle was not very effective versus the large bear, now fire-less, who had now stopped, dropped and rolled over a five-hundred dollar collapsible chair (collapsing it for the very last time).

Out of the ball came a emerald-green, menacing fly-like creature with sharper than normal wings. Its head was pointed, nose jutting out, and black, beady eyes surveyed the situation. It was about the size of a television (versus a bear the size of a fridge, which, in the Pokémon world, is called overkill). Its eyes held a glare that pierced through the Ursaring, temporarily stopping it, but not for long as the bear began to thrash around again.

“Mantescythe, the sharp- winged fly Pokémon. Since Scyther migrated to different climates, its pre-evolution became stronger and easier to train. While it is still rare to see a Mantescythe, they are catching on quick and may become a common Pokémon for new trainers to use.

“Its speed and sharp wings are quite a lethal combination to tree branches, but it is still too underdeveloped to use them to a great advantage against stronger Pokémon, especially rock and steel types. Mantescythe evolves into Scyther.”


“Mantescythe, tackle it!” The large bug charged at the larger bear and made solid contact, its wings slitting a hole in the web near the eyes.

Suddenly, a large pair of eyes appeared out of an indentation of a nearby tree, and the Ursaring stood there string at it, transfixed, before collapsing on the ground. Snores wracked its body (which just happened to be on a collapsible bike and a juicer). The two eyes (seemingly disembodied, as the notch was submerged in darkness) still stared back out at the two trainers and their group of Pokémon.

It flew out, revealing an owl-like form, and Godric took the opportunity to try and catch a new Pokémon. Webbing it to the ground with Caterpie and tackling it with Vulpix, the small Hoothoot was incapacitated, leaving it to be caught by Godric as Lily checked over her camp.

Intermittently, she let out small groans, surveying the damage the bear had caused. At least three thousand in uninsured goods was destroyed, small sparks flying out of what used to be a portable stove (now broken in half). The Ursaring, unbeknownst to anyone, began to stir and grumble, picked itself up off the ground, and let out a mighty roar.

It was about the time of the roar that Godric and Lily discovered the bear was once again awake. It charged at the conversing Caterpie and Weedle who immediately turned their attention to it and cowered under the shadow of the bear. The Caterpie and Weedle both lifted their heads skyward and let out a steady stream of white goo that enveloped them and instantly hardened.

The two newly evolved pods used harden at the command of their trainers and the blocked a great downward slash of both of Ursaring’s dinner plate sized paws.

The Ursaring stumbled back, rubbing it’s now throbbing red paws, massaging them as gently as a large bear could muster, when Mantescythe used poison sting, shooting small barbs from its mouth. The barbs also stuck to the paws of the beast, making it howl out in pain. Lily gathered up the remnants of her belongings as Ursaring looked like it was about to use rest to sleep, and they both ran away quickly, recalling their Pokémon to their balls.

They had stopped at the cave where Godric spent the evening and collapsed on the rocks, panting from exhaustion. After all, it wasn’t every night you had your camp attacked by an Ursaring. Unless of course you had female Ursaring musk on you, or took to putting Teddiursas in cages and leaving them out in the open.

But generally, that didn’t happen.

“So…” Godric began, “How exactly did you get an Ursaring on your tail?”

“Well, I have no idea. It might have been my perfume, but how was I supposed to know that an Ursaring would be around here? They aren’t even seen in Suria much, period”

“Good point. Now, I am going to sleep. If you have any problems, please hesitate to ask.” And with that, Godric leaned his head back and fell asleep against the hard rock walls of the cave.

Sleeping in a dark cave was not an idea that Lily liked, especially with someone from the notoriously thieving lower class, but exhaustion overcame her and she drifted off to a peaceful sleep, lying flat on a large rock.