[Pokémon] [SWC] The Third Child

[Necrum]

I went into the SWC wanting to write a story about the third Pokeball left on the table in most Pokemon games, but I wanted to do so in a way that wasn't going to be super on the nose Pokemon. I tried my best to write in a vague fashion that could be understood by anyone with experience playing Pokemon games, but still could hold enough meaning to be open to interpretation. I think it accidentally became a prose poem instead of a short story along the way...

Anyway, unlike most of the stories written for this competition, I am posting an edited version which I think is superior to the one I submitted. It is mostly small changes but I think it goes a long way to point more towards my personal meaning for the story. This is the story of

The Third Child​

The Old Man let the pen drop from his fingertips, and before its point struck the desk his heart stopped. Blood and oxygen were no longer flowing to his brain, and so it began the task of putting his past in order; all the pieces of the puzzle that belong to the Old Man.

The Old Man was at his desk, admiring the three gifts he prepared for the next generation. He had raised a family in his home town, and now prepared to surprise his energetic young grandson with his own adventure. Only one of the Old Man's friends ever came home, and it was in disgrace. He had lost a friend and his dignity, but the Old Man was never angry at him. Just as predicted, his friend left not long after having a son, and that son also left home one day. The Old Man's grandson- what was his name again? -had someone to grow up with though. He was quiet but always eager to learn. How lucky they would be. Everyone would get a choice this time.

He never saw them until the day of the big fight. The Man, home from his time abroad, sat on the couch with his father as the television flashed images of both his childhood friends, now about to pit their own gifts against each other, to claim the highest title in all the land. The Man lamented that he never had such possibilities available to him, but he lamented further the fact that the former friends were now such strong enemies. Both children who lacked the very thing sitting next to the Man right that very second. But maybe that was what drove them. Maybe they were stronger, more aggressive, because their fathers had been the same and went off on their own adventures. And maybe their sons would do the same after the smoke settled. The cycle never ends.

The Boy walked the path of his country, passing through many different cities along the way, but his road was never too difficult. Everyone he passed had already sparred with those bickering neighbors of his; Every criminal was already stumped; Every puzzle was already solved. It was a pleasant, peaceful journey in which the Boy could savor every step, taking in the beauty of forests, caves and ruins, each one hiding a plethora of fantastical creatures to meet. Sometimes he visited the beach to stare at the sunset while he pondered how it was that he never found the others on their journeys. Surely they must pass eventually. But he never did see his old friends as long as he walked the roads.

By the time the Boy arrived at the laboratory, there was only one remaining. Ten years he had waited for this moment, and the loss of choice in the matter was disappointing, but he still accepted the gift with a smile on his face, determined to roll with the punches. Fate had bestowed on him a companion that would never leave his side.

The Dying Man is watched by an eye of red on white with a shining silver pupil. His oldest remaining friend. Neither child picked him twice over, and instead of a life of adventure he remained with the Old Man in that laboratory until this last of days. "Do you think he knows what his legacy has accomplished?" asks the Old Man to no one in particular. With his last ounce of energy, the Dying Man reaches out and touches the pupil, releasing the gift for the third child that never came. The Dying Man's eternal companion.

The Old Man watched as the past repeated itself. His grandson was now the champion, and he was so proud, but he knew one last battle remained. If his disgraced friend's spirit was ever going to find peace, this was the moment to achieve it. His friend's legacy needed this victory. Silent but strong.

His encyclopedia complete, and his oldest friend at his side, the Man dies with a smile on his face.

 

[Miz en Scène]

I went into the SWC wanting to write a story about the third Pokeball left on the table in most Pokemon games, but I wanted to do so in a way that wasn't going to be super on the nose Pokemon.

I would characterize this as one of the more experimental stories this year, which is never a bad thing, but at the same time these sorts of things always run the risk of losing themselves in the experiment. That's not to say I didn't like it. As a piece of writing, and based solely on a love of language and the way words play around with each other, I actually really like your story. But I think judging the quality of a piece of writing in that way tends to lend itself more to poetry rather than prose fiction—the former of which is something that you rightly identified as being what the writing had turned into. That said, I certainly thought your piece was evocative, stunningly so, but it was also quite confusing, and even after a few read-throughs I'm actually still having trouble piecing together what's actually going on in the story, so bear with me if I get some parts wrong.

So generally, I understood the gist of what you were trying to do, even without the explanatory comments, so that's always a good sign—when stuff doesn't need to be spelled out, and I always like mood pieces that try to show us a side not often seen in the source material. At the same time though, and this is what I think bothers me about your piece, the fact that it's a 'mood piece' meant to reference something meant that it actually came with its own problem, namely that you really had to be referencing something that actually happened (implicitly or explicitly) in the source material for it to have its intended effect.

There are quite a limited number of assumptions you can have people make about the source material if you're not willing (or can't because of the constraints of the style) to explain the elements you choose to put in your writing before you get lost in the detail, and your piece certainly has us make quite a few strong assumptions. This does actually lead to quite a bit of confusion which is compounded especially by the fact that certain things start to seem contradictory towards the end. For instance, you assume the reader understands that the boys have absent fathers (which is alright, that's implicit within the source material), but then you go on to state (imply) that one of the fathers (presumably the Professor's son?) has childhood friends in the two rival Pokémon (I assume?). And then you bring in a third boy who (I guess?) knows our two main boys and is walking through the countryside enjoying the fact that these two have sort of swept the area clean. And I think I got lost after that point because the third boy seems to choose the third Pokémon, but at the same time the Professor seems to say that no one actually chose the third Pokémon?

I mean… all in all, it gets really confusing, no offence. I understand that you meant for this to be open to interpretation, and it definitely is, but it's actually really, really hard to interpret because you don't use canonical references in what's meant to be (at least I assume it is) a mood piece referencing the source material. Simply put, if we don't get what you're trying to reference (or if your references don't align with the readers' perceptions of canon), then the story gets a bit unruly, and this lessens the effect of the mood you're trying to evoke.

Having said that though, contrary to what I said, I did really much appreciate the mood of the fic, and I really liked the way you described the boy walking through a clean countryside, the dying Professor, and generally most of the scenes you had in the piece. However, I only liked them in isolation. They were quite hard to piece together into a coherent sequence of events, but I liked them enough on their own. But as I said before, that's appreciating the poetry of the words, and I guess I sort of expected a more coherent story.

But anyway, I do commend you on writing such an ambitious experimental piece this year, and I hope I wasn't being too harsh. God knows how hard it is to pull these sorts of things off, and the fact that parts of your piece work well in isolation is definitely a testament to what could have been! I do hope to see more of your work around these parts and congratulations on your place in the contest. A shame you lost 15 points for a late entry, but a great effort nonetheless!

 

[Necrum]

-Stuff goes here-

Alright, so I really love your feedback. It was like the cherry on top to the great day I am having right now. Unfortunately I completely understand the problems you put forth and it's rather frustrating for me to think of a way to clear it up without giving away what I think the words are about, which to me sort of ruins the point of writing this kind of piece. The only thing I can say that I think wouldn't be too imposing is that any time a character is Capitalized then it is the same person. There are in fact two sets of children in this story which includes the character as a Child, which might be why you think there is a contradiction. I actually wrote the whole thing in chronological order save for the first paragraph, but I really think it's better this way as art.

PS: You should read some of my other fictions over here https://www.pokecommunity.com/threads/367853

 

[Bay]

Woo finally you got the edit version posted. For this review I'm actually going to take it a somewhat different direction from the intial one I did.

The beginning sentences I think is pretty strong starting with "The Old Man" in his last moments. Makes you wonder what is going to happen next.

He never saw them until the day of the big fight. The Man, home from his time abroad, sat on the couch with his father as the television flashed images of both his childhood friends, now about to pit their own gifts against each other, to claim the highest title in all the land. The Man lamented that he never had such possibilities available to him, but he lamented further the fact that the former friends were now such strong enemies. Both children who lacked the very thing sitting next to the Man right that very second. But maybe that was what drove them. Maybe they were stronger, more aggressive, because their fathers had been the same and went off on their own adventures. And maybe their sons would do the same after the smoke settled. The cycle never ends.

Even though this took me a second/third read through to get this, I like the reference on the rivarly between Red and Blue/Gary there. Still like the "cycle never ends" lines there.

The Boy walked the path of his country, passing through many different cities along the way, but his road was never too difficult. Everyone he passed had already sparred with those bickering neighbors of his; Every criminal was already stumped; Every puzzle was already solved. It was a pleasant, peaceful journey in which the Boy could savor every step, taking in the beauty of forests, caves and ruins, each one hiding a plethora of fantastical creatures to meet. Sometimes he visited the beach to stare at the sunset while he pondered how it was that he never found the others on their journeys. Surely they must pass eventually. But he never did see his old friends as long as he walked the roads.

This particular part I can see why you subtlely write that in mind the readers that played the games.

By the time the Boy arrived at the laboratory, there was only one remaining. Ten years he had waited for this moment, and the loss of choice in the matter was disappointing, but he still accepted the gift with a smile on his face, determined to roll with the punches. Fate had bestowed on him a companion that would never leave his side.

Noticed you added the "Fated had bestowed on him a companion" line there and I think it wraps up that paragraph better.

Spoiler:

The Dying Man is watched by an eye of red on white with a shining silver pupil. His oldest remaining friend. Neither child picked him twice over, and instead of a life of adventure he remained with the Old Man in that laboratory until this last of days. "Do you think he knows what his legacy has accomplished?" asks the Old Man to no one in particular. With his last ounce of energy, the Dying Man reaches out and touches the pupil, releasing the gift for the third child that never came. The Dying Man's eternal companion.

The Old Man watched as the past repeated itself. His grandson was now the champion, and he was so proud, but he knew one last battle remained. If his disgraced friend's spirit was ever going to find peace, this was the moment to achieve it. His friend's legacy needed this victory. Silent but strong.

First paragraph, indeed poor unchosen Pokemon.

Second paragraph, I think this change is the most satisfying for me. Originally you had "His Legacy" instead of "His grandson", and this new change make more sense.

Still enjoyed this very much!