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Friends of Draco

dracoburn

Lance's protege
Chapter Six: Change of Seasons

A pair of weeks passed and the weather took a turn for the chilly. The October fog began to thicken into a frozen mist that hung like a blanket, and mixed with the sweet scents of late fall treats that Analyt prepared, like caramel-covered berries and Pamtre pie made it feel as if the cabin was surrounded by evaporated ice cream. But as the days grew darker, my mood grew brighter. And by the time the shadow of snow clouds began creeping across the sky, I finally had the moxie to try calling Cole.

All of my Pokemon were gathered inside the cabin to keep warm, and I silently thanked Arceus that there was so much room. My home had once hosted a camp for Picnicker Scouts, but when Team Plasma tried to take over, the organization returned the contract to Clay because they felt the mountain was too unsafe. Though it looked very small from a passing glance, a dormitory-like system of rooms were connected to the main, “human” cabin through a door in the kitchen. On this night in particular, the cabin’s living room was crowded with my friends, all huddled around the fireplace to stay comfortable.

I took a deep breath, and tapped Cole’s number into my Pokegear.

Ring…

My team hushed themselves to eavesdrop.

Ring…

My heart rate quickened exponentially.

Ring…

Maybe he wasn’t going to pick up..

Ri- Click!

“Kairo!”

A Lucario’s cry? “Kami? Is that you?” I asked, puzzled.

“Car.” Came the affirmation.

“Kami, can I talk to Cole?”

“Cario, car, luca, cayo!”

“Um.. Say what?”

Draco translated for me. Kami says Cole isn’t there. Left some time ago.

“Cayo! Cario carro car!” Cole left me in charge. I’m watching the gym for him. We’re self-sufficient like that.

“That’s great, Kami, but do you know when he’s gonna be back? Or why there’s no method of contacting him?”

“Kairo! Cario! Carro, rrrr? Lucario!” Some soul-searching stuff. I told him he should stay here, but do they ever listen? Nope!

“Uh, ok. Well, will you tell him to call me when he gets home?”

“Car!”

“Thanks, Kami. Tell everybody we said hi.”

Click..

Alright, so Cole was just out of town. It had nothing to do with me being too desperate. Good to know.

On Halloween night, the wind was whistling and the trees were howling. Even the cabin walls were creaking, setting the perfect atmosphere for the spooky holiday. We ate a special meal that Analyt had put together, then sat around the old Picnicker Scouts projection screen that had been left behind, watching cheesy horror flicks and munching candy. At ten, the kids went to bed, and the adult Pokemon joined me for The Rocky Horror Picture Show. After two hours of hysterical laughter, we went our separate ways for the night, still humming the Time Warp.

We awoke to a shroud of snow on the first of November. At first, the Eevee kits were spooked at the frozen water, but in time, they ventured out into the first day of a mountain winter, delighting in the cottony frost as it melted beneath their soft paw pads. The more playful of the group joined us outside to play, while the others stayed inside watching old Disney movies and reading comic books. Speaking of Disney movies, I had nicknames for the Eevee kits to clear with their parents..

We sat back watching Psycha, my Alakazam, levitate balls of snow that the kids were forming to create frosty likenesses of themselves. “So, Spook, Mia, I’ve been thinking of nicknames for your kits, if that’s alright with you if I name them.” The two cocked their heads, signaling me to continue. “You know those movies the guys inside are watching? The Disney ones? Well, I thought up names inspired by the characters from those toons.” Two more identical nods. “I thought the oldest could be named Marie, after the white Skitty in The Aristocats. The younger female seems more sassy, so I thought we could go with Nala, Simba’s girlfriend from The Luxray King.” They communicated for a few moments, then nodded, and looked towards their son. “Him? I thought Oliver fit him pretty well. Little Eevee, with so much potential..” Mia smiled and purred, while Spook nodded slowly and turned up his nose. As Eevees, the two had had nearly reversed personalities. It can be pretty funny how much evolution can rewire a Pokemon’s brain. For example, Gyara, my Gyarados, had been spunky for a Magikarp, but still just as lame and pathetic as any other of his species. But then he evolved, and became the most infamous member of my team for his fury and destructive tendencies.

Change just seemed to be in the air, on the ground, in the stars.. After a dinner of hot stew, my entire collection of Pokemon living with me in Unova crowded around the fireplace, sipping hot cider(aside from the kids, who used their tiny paws to play with the marshmallows floating in their hot chocolate) while I played acoustic versions of some modern songs, rather than our typical routine of my strumming classics from Johto or Kanto. I laid down a rhythm on my Fender, and a chorus of critters behind me began with the closest thing to the background tune that a set of elemental animals could pull off. The part was normally a progression of “da” sounds, but yips and growls suited me just fine. We got to my part, and the group let me begin the verses, calmly reflecting as the kids played a game with a set of pebbles that we had polished.

“You want love, but you fear it. Your attentions, had shifted. And you summed up, the feeling, with a simple, dismissing. Whatcha gonna do? Deceiving? It ain’t you, believe it. Cause our love, ain’t easy. It changes with seasons..” The team again joined for the chorus, “Ohhhhhh, ohhhhh oh oh yeah.. Where we’re goin’ I don’t know.. Oh… Oh, oh, oh, oh.. So baby won’t you let it go?” Even the kits were getting into it. “You sewed shut, the curtains. You closed out, the lights coming in. And all your friends, you don’t want near. You don’t want advice, advice to hear..” A pond of bobbing heads surrounded me. “Cause inside, you’re working. You’re mending what’s broken. Cause our love, ain’t easy. It changes, with seasons..” As the chorus repeated itself, the entire group, even prickly Cedar and reproachful Spicegrrrl, were joining in the best they can, and tapped their feet to the beat as I got to the interlude. “Don’t you worry. Won’t you let it go? Baby, don’t worry, just let it go, let it go. Don’t you worry. Won’t you let it go? Baby, don’t worry, just let it go, let it go..” As the song progressed, I felt a flush of hope in my heart. No matter what I did, or didn’t, have in human companionship, I made up for it in closeness with my Pokemon. My real family.

Look up Change of Seasons, by Sweet Thing, for the song I borrowed. I know, these chapters are short and far between, but I'm trying my best to keep up.
 
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dracoburn

Lance's protege
Chapter Seven: The Unthinkable

“Cough, cough.. Atchoo!”

Ugh. Cold and Flu season. Everybody was feeling it, unfortunately. Every Pokemon seemed to have their species’ version of the Flu. Hell, even I was feeling under the weather. Analyt kept hot soup on tap, which was great, until he came down with the Wyrm Flu himself. All the babies were stuck inside with runny noses and fevers, though the baby Gibles got the worst of it, as the Wyrm Flu tends to cause upset stomachs in children, so the poor things couldn’t even keep the soup down. Most of the adults, myself included, simply felt run-down, achy, with all kinds of goo running from our eyes and noses. Fun. Except for Draco, of course, who stepped in for Analyt when his freakishly powerful immune system kept him from getting more than a sinus headache.

In retrospect, I understand that this bug couldn’t have hit our side of the mountain for more than two weeks, but it sure felt like months. The kids were hauled up in their rooms, fussing and whining as their equally unwell parents tried to console them. Most of the adult Pokemon just stayed in their rooms, though they’d occasionally join me in front of the projection screen with blankets, Vitaminwater and old episodes of cancelled animes. Dracoburn clearly detested the role of caretaker, but the Wyrm Flu had an added nasty side-effect of moving to the eyes, and Analyt had to spend his incubation period in a dark room, with a cold towel over his eyes. The other dragons had bloodshot eyes and rashes. Wyrm Flu is really closer to the human Measles virus than Influenza, so all the dragons were feeling rather miserable. Even the ferocious Gyara was weak, and after some debate, I decided to raise the temperature of the indoor pool that my water types shared as a room by a few degrees. It was actually beginning to unnerve me, seeing my great and powerful dragons thrashing about, trying to find a suitable position for their aching bodies. To hear them moan late at night, guttural sounds that made my own misery seem trivial.

Day one, the Eevee kits started sniffling. By that night, they were running fevers, and their parents were starting to drag around the house, their noses beginning to crust. By the next morning, the whole family was in the throes of the disease, and the others in the Ground egg group were coughing. Then it hit me. By day three, my temp was high and I felt like a sack of bricks had hit me. But it wasn’t much of a concern with only the mammals sick. Mammalian Influenza pales in comparison to the reptilian equivalent. So it set all of our nerves on edge when Tyson, my Feraligatr, and Charlie, my Poliwrath, became ill. They shared a pool with Gyara. And so it began, the fifth day, when Gyara’s eyes reddened and the disease officially hit the dragons. And it hit with a vengeance. Two days into the Wyrm Flu epidemic, the Eevee kits’ viruses had faded into a childhood case of “the sniffles”, keeping them indoors, but back to their normal energy levels. The others in the Ground egg group were also doing much better, tired, but otherwise back to normal. I still had a cough, a sore throat, and was prone to random sneezing fits, but my fever was down, and I was beginning to feel almost useful. Ferocity was feeling better, though still tired and ornery, and Scarr’s vision was returning. Analyt was still miserable, and Gyara wasn’t doing any better, but I figured they would recover in due time.

That night, I was finally resting soundly for the first time since I got sick. The cabin was quiet, aside from the light snoring of Draco, who had crashed on the pile of blankets he’d scattered across my floor. I faded off into the most comfortable sleep I’d had in a week… If only it lasted. Perhaps around two, Draco nudged me awake.

“Draco… What do you want?…”

He growled. Get up.

“Why? What could possibly not wait till tomorrow?”

Something is wrong. Get up.

I dragged myself out of bed, exhausted, and followed the light of Dracoburn’s tail flame. He led me through the door that separates the main cabin from the dorms. We passed rows of closed doors, the eerie silence occasionally broken by a cough or sneeze.

“Draco, where are you taking me? Tell me what’s wrong!” I stage-whispered.

Pool.

“Why? Was someone swimming after hours? Did Tyson beat someone else up?”

Just shut up and come with me. I sense something is wrong, ok?

There was no conceivable way that I could have predicted what I saw when I opened the door to the pool. My great blue beast, the infamously powerful Gyara, was lying on his side, half in, half out of the pool. His body shook with every gasping breath he took, and a single tear glistened in his bloodshot eyes. I rushed to his aid, brushing my hand over his flank to feel his dry, chapped skin. I pressed lightly on the area at the nape of his neck and he groaned, baring his fangs, a feeble attempt at what would rise as a thrashing display of power and fury any other day. His neck felt hot to the touch, and the muscles underneath were tense. Gyara shuddered, and let out a hissing screech.

“Draco, translate!” I yelped in terror.

His head hurts. Excruciatingly. And his spine feels tight. He says it hurts to breathe.

“Oh Arceus, that sounds like Meningitis… Gyara, when did you start feeling this way?”

The answer came in a furious growl. He says it doesn’t matter, and that you should hurry up and fix him.

I sighed. “Gyara, I need you to tell me so that I know what’s wrong.”

Clearly low on energy, the dragon merely grumbled. Hour or so ago. Back hurts. Head hurts. Never felt this bad… Help…

Gyara never asked for help. Something was clearly dangerously wrong with the proud beast. “Draco, quick, get me some Sitris Berries and my Pokegear!”

By the time he got back, Gyara was even worse. I immediately called 911.

“Hello, you’ve reached the Mistralton Pokemon Center, what is your emergency?”

“Hi, I think my Gyarados has Meningitis. All my dragons have had the Wyrm Flu, and it took a turn for the worse tonight.. Can you help us please? We live at the peak of Twist Mountain.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can get up there in this storm.” I hadn’t even noticed that it was snowing. “If you keep him stabilized, we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

My heart raced, and I felt a rising panic begin to set in. One of the oldest members of my team was in danger.

Draco and I administered the Sitris berries, but Gyara couldn’t swallow. His breathing was growing weaker by the minute. He opened his eyes to reveal ruddy red tears. For the first time in a long while, Gyara met my gaze. He blinked, and I felt a strange buzzing in my head, as I suddenly launched into a vision of a forest, and an egg. Then fire raced along water, accented by a clear, blue sky. But suddenly, the vision was cut short, and replaced by white emptiness. I jerked back to reality on time to see my majestic sea serpent thrash about in place, foaming at the mouth. After a few moments, the great beast simply collapsed, his eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. Gyara was dead.
 
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Firebrand

Indomitable
Sorry I haven't reviewed the last one yet, I'll compound them. I've been busy.
Well, in the previous one, Change of Seasons, I definitely liked the bit with Kami (for obvious reasons). However, at the end, I didn't really get what Becca meant by his silence stemming from her desperation. Maybe that was just me. Either way, it was a nice interlude chapter.

This latest one... wow, pretty heavy. I do have a grammar fix to point out though, before anything goes forward. Whenever Draco is talking, the entire paragraph is italicized, not just where he's speaking. I'm willing to bet that's just a formatting error from however you upload it, but it bears noting.
As for actual content... very good. I like the idea of different strands of viruses moving throughout the different species, and the different ways it takes effect. At the end though, Becca's vision, I mean, it just seemed... I don't know... sloppy. No real explanation for how it happened, or why she suddenly just had a vision of this random egg (which I'd bet my winnings from the other bet is moxiekarp). I suppose she could have developed a telepathic connection with Gyara in the last moments, but that still doesn't explain how Gyara would know of this egg. Unless it's him reborn... but that's a whole twisted theological discussion right there.
Aside from that, the actual death scene was very well crafted. It was long enough that it made a powerful point, and conveyed it's emotions well, but it wasn't too long so that it became sappy.
 

dracoburn

Lance's protege
The vision was intentionally sloppy. Gyara, like most Gyarados, was left slightly less than sane after the evolutionary rewiring of his brain. Not that he's unintelligent, or any more dangerous than your ordinary Atrocious Pokemon, but I think Gyarados don't have the same thinking process as other intelligent Pokemon, causing them to think in images rather than complete thoughts. Gyara is plenty intelligent, but his thought process is much less organized than, say, Draco's.

And the way the telepathic connection works for Becca is that a moment of extreme emotion and trials offers a chance for she and her Pokemon to be mentally bound together. Immediately before Gyara's fatal seizure, when he finally accepts his own death, the two become connected for just long enough for him to make his final thoughts known to her before his death.
 

Firebrand

Indomitable
Still, I don't quite understand the egg. How would he know it's there? Unless it's something metaphysical like Arceus's egg, it just doesn't make sense that he'd know about it.
 

dracoburn

Lance's protege
Chapter Eight: Aftermath

Nothing. That’s what I remember. Nothing. No, I remember everything, but that’s just it: there wasn’t anything. Nothing. Draco and I stared at the great dead dragon at our feet in silent horror. Gyara’s stare held nothing. The sound of the filter working faded into white noise. Nothing. Draco’s sightless eyes reflected his comrade’s sightless gaze. Nothing. Gyara had fought valiantly in countless fights, viciously facing countless intimidating opponents. If he had died in those battles, there would be something. If he had died in the Omega war, brought down by the possessed legendary monsters, or the hoards of lesser beasts biting at his throat, there would be something. If he had been torn to shreds by the deadly rapids in the waterfalls he scaled, there would be something. But a seizure? Not even a cool seizure, but one caused by a disease, an infection that had originated with the flu? That was nothing. Gyara had been killed by nothing. Nothing. And there was so much in so little, so much something in such nothingness that it filled Dracoburn and I, the sole witnesses to his end, with nothing. Nothing.

Eventually the paramedics arrived, saw what had occurred, and they got just a taste of the nothing. They were something. Too much of something, not enough nothing. There was a strange, unnerving comfort in the nothing. A peace after the storm. Draco and I wanted nothing. Needed nothing. We had had nothing for minutes, hours, centuries.. And now we had something. We weren’t ready for something. They seemed to misunderstand, and reacted by making more something. More something, and less nothing. I ignored the something, as did the Charizard at my side. We trained our eyes on the dulled sapphire scales of our lost friend. We counted every dot of Gyara’s newly acquired rash. The blind dragon that had been my friend for so many years simply remained silent, but I noticed Draco’s claws brushing over the lesions as if he were reading a form of Braille that could somehow explain this nothing to him, that could somehow make this ok, that could somehow grant him a something that could bring him real peace, not this empty, lifeless nothing.

After forever and no time at all, the man and woman, or maybe man and man, or even woman and woman, got a clue. I think they left. Or they didn’t. But they finally seemed to understand that I would not answer their questions. They were late. They took too long. If they had braved the winter storm outside, Gyara would be alive. We would have something, a good something, a safe and LIVING something. But all we had now, with them coming late, was the advanced first aid kit they left behind out of their condolences and a great dead water dragon. One of my oldest friends no longer existed, and that brought nothing.

I don’t know how long we stayed there. Eventually the others woke up. Tyson, my Feraligatr, naturally found us first, as his room was connected to the pool. He noticed us kneeled by his fellow water-type, who remained in the same position, half in the water, half out. But all gone.

The rest of the day went about the same. Tyson informed everyone of the tragedy, so the room was soon filled with a buzz of my Pokemon all remarking in their own ways. Like a wake, but louder. Some cried, others growled at the unfairness of the situation. The buzz was too much something. Draco and I left to go sit in the snow.

Though our telepathic link still connected us, Draco and I hadn’t even shared thoughts since Gyara died. Finally, in the silence of the cold, we discussed the funeral preparation methodically, as if we were discussing the outcome of someone else’s gym battle. After all was said, we retreated to the safety of our rooms. Whether any of us slept well, I’ll probably never know.

We waited until everyone had overcome the flu of their respective species, which was longer than expected due to the addition of crippling grief, before we finally held the ceremony. Until then, Gyara’s body was simply covered by a tarp. We would drain and refill the pool later, but nobody could even look at him, let alone touch him.

The ceremony took place on a Friday, around noon. It took a full team of my strongest Pokemon, both physically and emotionally, to carry the nearly twenty-two foot-long beast to the clearing in front of the cabin. Fortunately, most of the snow had melted by then, so the sandy clearing was perfect for the body, as hard a concept as it is to accept Gyara as “the body”. After everyone gathered, and a few words were said, or growled, from myself and the rest of my dragon team, the other dragons gathered around his body making a five-point star pattern. The rest of the Pokemon left as the dragons used their intensely hot fire breath to cremate Gyara. Draco had used his INCREDIBLY hot fire to prepare a blown glass sculpture to hold the ashes in. It was breathtaking that a blind dragon could craft with such grace. The urn had spirals of all the elements surrounding it all around, and I noticed that there were prints from every member of the dragon team at the base. I had helped Draco spell out the words “Always intimidating; always loved” in the center of the urn over where the ashes showed through the glass, warping the appearance of the ash, making it look almost as if it were meant to be there. Almost. I would never believe that Gyara were meant to be dead.
 

dracoburn

Lance's protege
I apologize for the several month hiatus, guys. My grandmother died around the time of writing my last chapter, and that was making it very difficult to continue. But now I'm back. This chapter will be my last of this story, but I have plans for a sequel in due time. Enjoy.

Chapter Nine: A Climax, of Sorts

It was cold. Always. The sun shined on occasion, but it was always cold. With the low temperatures, morale matched. Now, the babies didn’t change much; Ferocity and Scarr were expecting their second child, and only Oliver, the male Eevee kit seemed to notice any sort of difference in the emotional atmosphere.

As Analyt recovered from the last traces of Wyrm Flu, he began to blame himself more and more. It began with him simply busying himself, preparing enough food to feed the entire Sevii Archipelago for a month. The cabin had never been cleaner, and he would bark at anyone who tried to help. There was always a clear path to the lake and to the take-off areas for aerial hunting. I suspect, but have not confirmed, that rather than using a fire-type move to clear the snow, he was actually shoveling it old-school style.

But by Yule, the checks that I received from being a member of the LoH weren't enough to cover all of the food we were wasting, and I had to pick up shifts at Skyla’s gym to cover Solstice presents.

One day after an especially long shift, Skyla pulled me aside. “Becca, your dragons just hit too hard; you’re making me look bad. I haven’t had a challenger reach me since you started!”

I winced. “I’m sorry, Skyla.. I sent my birds back to Johto to keep them safe.. They aren’t used to Unova winters, you know.”

“Oh, I know. No judgment.” She covered quickly, knowing that her words had come out wrong. “So, have you had any challengers yet yourself?”

I sighed. “No.. The whole league is on standby. Since Cole left, we’ve been completely suspended. I’m surprised Raj can afford to keep paying us.. Then again, I guess that’s been passed off to the financial board by now.” After the Omega War, our close-knit gang of trainers had become funded by a non-profit agency. Good news was that we could lower the charge for admission into our league, though that hardly made much of a difference; the League of Heroes could only be entered by those that had already defeated at least one national league to compete in our international one. Bad news was that the league was becoming decreasingly personal. In fact, with Cole gone, we were reaching a point where it seemed shutdown was imminent. Nobody had defeated the Flare Gym yet, and with Cole gone, both new and old challengers were stuck and unable to progress. Word of mouth was spreading, and less and less new challengers were joining.

Skyla pondered for a moment, and finally began, sifting through her words as if she were trying to phrase a difficult response. “You guys.. Could use a serious restructuring..” She seemed almost nervous. Was my temper really that vicious? Behind me, I could hear Draco sigh, in obviously malcontented response to my thought, but kept his own to himself.

“I know, Skyla, but it’s beyond my control. Hopefully Cole will come home soon…” I tried to keep my own wishful thinking and wistful logic from staining my tone.

She seemed to understand that there was more to it, but didn’t press. I couldn’t blame her; Solstice was close, and I had no right to dump my problems on her.

Draco touched down around nine-thirty. We went inside to hear muffled snores, even from the rooms of the kids, who used to beg to stay up past bedtime; now, they were ready for bed before their parents’ orders. It wasn’t a matter of increased obedience as much as a desire to save their parents from more grief.

I sipped a cup of hot tea and waited for the Xanax to kick in. Skyla had dragged me to a psychiatrist after I finally let her know about Gyara, and the quack had forced me onto whatever medication he could milk my insurance for. While the league offered great benefits, I didn’t even feel that I deserved the pills that were supposed to keep me from feeling like I didn’t deserve them. Draco munched his late dinner across from me, trying to seduce me into joining him. I had lost the better half of thirty pounds since Gyara’s death, despite all of the extra food around the house. With the fast-approaching holiday, I was feeling even more down, and my appetite suffered.

“Draco, does this ever improve..?” I mumbled.

He didn’t respond. Though Draco was younger than I was by almost ten years, he had been in an intimate relationship with a female Charizard who was killed by one of Omega’s fleet during the storm of the Flare Gym. He still had her(possibly their, he prefers not to mention it) son, but the fact remained that he had dealt with more death than I had.

“I’m.. sorry Draco.”

Don’t be.. He thought, echoing the nonverbal words with a verbally audible sigh. There’s no reason to be. We all know that you’re suffering. We do. We understand that there’s more to it with you than just grief. We lost a brother, but you, in a sense, lost a child.

“I’ve just felt so empty. I mean, I was supposed to protect him! But I have no right to whine about it like this; I was one of the only people who didn’t lose a Pokemon in the war..”

With that, Draco cuffed me on the arm, his sightless blue eyes angry. Stop thinking like that. Any death is a tragedy, regardless of who it is or who it happens to. Stop telling yourself that you shouldn’t be grieving.

“Draco, I just look at what happened to Cole, and just.. Feel like I don’t deserve to be so miserable.”

Well, if you aren’t miserable, then Gyara meant nothing to you.

I knew that the line came for sake of satire, but it still broke my heart. I let out a long, shaky sigh, and Draco recognized that I was ready to end the conversation.

I’m sorry. That was rather callous. Well, I’m going to sleep. Goodnight. He let out a huff, and a wisp of smoke hung in the air. I nodded to him, and we stood and went our separate ways.

***

The night was akin to most. I slept fitfully, haunted by dreams of bright, flashing colors, mostly green, like a forest, and the feeling that I was both uncomfortably close and unnecessarily far away from what I was after. I was never quite sure what it was, just that it was somehow familiar.

The morning, however, was different. I woke up, exhausted as always, too early, as always. Forced myself back to sleep to rise again an hour later, just as tired, but with more light in the sky and more buzz in the halls. I stretched, tugged on a pair of loose jeans and a t-shirt, both used, but not overly dirty, and plodded out into the hall to join the fray.

But what I thought had been the stirring of my Pokemon had actually been something entirely different. The halls were empty, but the sounds intensified, and I followed them like the star of a preschooler’s TV show follows painfully obvious clues. They led me outside, where I saw something.. unexpected. Upon slipping through the door, my mind was barraged by angry thoughts in the mindvoice of Dracoburn. There were snarls to match, along with a higher-pitched shrieking in another draconic tongue. Concerned, I chased the soundtrack of a feud to find something even more startling.

Draco was facing off with another dragon. I assumed, at first, that it was an intruder, but the fact that Draco hadn’t made an effort to rouse me made me think twice. Also, Analyt should have been awake by now, as he always was, and should have sounded the alarm. But as Draco shifted out of my line of sight, it all came together in a way that made even less sense; Draco and Analyt were the two fighting dragons. And it certainly did not look like a practice match.

The two barked at each other in vicious tones, and I attempted to reach into the mind of my enraged Charizard to determine the root of the conflict. He had yet to notice me, so I assumed that I could find some information before he covered it up. But upon doing so, I could only hear expletives and only see red. The fury was that intense. I pulled back, and assessed the situation with my normal, human senses. Analyt was hissing as if angry, but his aquamarine eyes glistened with tears, and the rising pitch of his voice showed obvious desperation. Draco, on the other hand, was all rage. I still couldn’t decipher his thoughts, so I slid closer.

The fight escalated further, and I finally caught a single phrase from Draco: YOU COWARD!!

With that, Analyt spun on his toes and arched his back, preparing himself for aerial takeoff. But in the moment it took him to do so, I saw something that I could not believe; upon the first beat of the Dragonite’s golden wings, my infuriated best friend surged forward and tore his fangs through the tender flesh of the other dragon’s majestic escape route. With a pained screech, Analyt was grounded, and I was on my feet, moving towards them at a pace that shattered the instinctive terror that filled my pathetic human fight-or-flight reflex. I wanted to shriek at the writhing brothers, but there were no words. It mattered not; as soon as they sensed my approach, the two separated, Draco springing backwards and Analyt hunching over into a submissive pose.

“WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!?!?” I managed to pant. “Are you two out of your minds???”

But they both simply looked away.

“Draco. Go. Fly three laps around Twist Mountain. If you’re still angry by the time you return, fly another. I don’t know what you were thinking, but I do know that you need to clear your head.” He curled his lip back in bitterness, but recognized that it was not negotiable and took off. I felt that was hardly a punishment enough for what I had just seen, but the miniscule whisper of reason beyond my bewilderment told me that I needed to learn the full story before I could dish out full penalty.

“Now, Analyt. Come with me. We need to treat that wing.”

He winced, and managed to return to his feet. Analyt refused to meet my eye as we returned to the cabin. I sneaked inside and retrieved my medical supplies, knowing that there was a slim chance of him running away in the time that it would take me to return. The digits on the oven’s clock glowed “6:37”, which explained the absence of my other Pokemon. I nabbed the trauma kit that we were left upon Gyara’s final morn and tiptoed back outside. I wanted to keep the event as discrete as possible so that I could get the full story without as much bias as I could possibly avoid.

Analyt was exactly where I had left him, still watching his toes. I decided not to press, merely to treat him and see where it went from there.

The wing itself was in a pitiful state of affairs. It certainly looked salvageable, but it was coated in blood, and shreds of leathery skin hung in tatters, and that was only how it looked before it was cleaned. Upon wiping the gore away, I discovered the real problem; as Draco had torn while Analyt was trying to fly, the damage went beyond the flesh. The internal bone structure, strong, but slender, was ideal for flight. Unfortunately, the design left the wings frail, and very easily damaged. And Analyt provided a textbook example of that flaw. Bone shards jutted out at odd angles, and it was painfully obvious that professional repair would be necessary to ensure Analyt’s future flight capability.

I cleaned him up, and splinted it, then returned him to his Pokeball. It pained me to do so, as I preferred to allow them free range, but I knew that the less he moved, the safer he would be. I took my bike down to Icurris city, knowing better than to include any of my Pokemon for transportation. I had left a note saying that I was running an errand in the town and to call my Pokegear should there be a problem. I rounded the corner to the Pokemon Center.

An hour of waiting and Analyt finally made it through the shuffle of medical personnel to get x-rays. It was easily determined that he would need surgery, and that bought me another five hours to kill. I used it as an opportunity to do.. nothing. Until about noon, at least, when the footsteps of a dragon woke me from the nap that I had fallen into.

Becca.. Came the voice of my partner, his rage clearly dissipated. I know that my actions were despicable, and I wish that this morning had never occurred. But you need to know that there’s a reason behind them.

I sat up from the too-small couch that I had been curled on. “I’m listening.”

Analyt was trying to leave. I had to stop him.

“Draco, I recognize that he was trying to leave. You were really chewing him out! Anyone in their right mind would have left.”

You misunderstand me. He was trying to leave us. Leave forever. He wouldn’t listen to reason, and when he tried to take off, and I knew it was for good.. I would rather injure him than lose another brother.

I understood. Not why Analyt would leave, but why Draco had done what he did. But then there was the issue at hand: why would Analyt try to leave us?

Draco caught my thoughts before I could share them verbally.

He said he blamed himself for Gyara’s death, and that he couldn’t risk being in that situation again. That you should find someone more competent to fill his slot.

“But Analyt is invaluable! The way he handles our home..”

I know, and I told him. But he was inconsolable. I imagine you walked in at the worst possible moment. My plan was to get him to stay until you had talked to him, and in a way, it worked.

“I.. I can’t believe this.. I.. I’ve gotta go.”

And with that, I pushed past him and hit the streets on my bike.

The roads were glowing with bright, shiny lights, and Solstice shoppers littered the sidewalks. All of the different colors blended together as I sped past, pumping my legs and pounding the elderly cycle with the highest degree of geriatric abuse imaginable. I could almost imagine Rad Rickshaw calling me up on my Pokegear to thank me for all of the free advertisement, but the painful nostalgia of that individual fragment only infuriated my further. My vision went fuzzy with hot tears burning their way down my frozen face, and it was all I could do to keep my balance. It was difficult enough to see that I almost didn’t notice a Lillipup bounce into the street in pursuit of an unseen ball. I swerved to the left, and my churning feet immediately found no traction as my bike shot off of the path, onto the ice. Terrified, I instinctively put a death grip on each handbrake, and spun out.

I was so caught up in the flurry of colors surrounding me in that one moment that I didn’t realize that I was no longer only spinning horizontally. By the time I understood what was happening, I was disconnected from my bike and flew in a different direction entirely.

A crash came from the direction of my bike and a crack came from underneath me. But before I could consider the onomatopoeias, fire shot through my right arm and forced my body involuntarily into the fetal position. I spent the next minute, hour, week, decade, I don’t know, curled in a ball, unable to scream, only able to whimper. But the initial wave passed, and I managed to get in a glace at the cause of my pain. At first, I thought nothing of it, I had just hit a few rocks. But then I noticed the blood, and the bone jutting from my upper arm, and felt my head spin.

Before I really understood what was happening, I was back in the building that I had been fleeing from, if in the human half of the hospital rather than the Pokemon. I kept hearing phrases like “compound fracture”, “lost a lot of blood” and “IV drip”, but oddly, all I could think of was my bike and whether or not it had survived the crash. I watched the florescent lights blink above my head and pondered simple, stupid things like whether or not the Lillipup found his toy. A man with a badge told me not to move, reminding me that I had that ability to begin with, but I didn’t know that I could. A machine flashed a few times, and again, I was in physical transit. Before long, I was surrounded by men and women wearing green and masks, and then I was floating into nothing at all..

***

In an unpredictable amount of time, I finally returned to the planet. My eyes flickered open, and I searched for answers, finally meeting the eyes of my lifelong companion. I knew Draco couldn’t see me, but he recognized that I was awake.

About time. The folks back home won’t leave me alone. I almost wish you’d broken your Pokegear, too.

“Draco? What.. What happened?”

You decided to teach yourself how to fly. Turns out you aren’t nearly as good at it as I am.

“Very funny. But seriously, what’s going on?”

We’re in the hospital. You went off a cliff on your bike and shattered your arm. Honestly, if I hadn’t been fed a rubber hospital steak for dinner, I would have found it humerus.

I couldn’t help but smirk at Draco’s pun. Of course, it brought attention to the IV in my left arm and the bandaging around my right.

You know, he continued in his dry, satirical mindvoice, it’s funny. You and Analyt have had very similar days.

“Because we both spent half of them unconscious?”

Because you were both injured in a sense that grounded you and kept you from escaping, which was exactly what you were both trying to do. The irony is precious.

And in that moment, I realized what needed to be done. “I need to talk to him.”

You do, but not now. It’s after midnight, and you both need to sleep.

***

The next day, after each undergoing more poking and prodding than necessary, my Dragonite and I finally found our chance to reconcile. The orderlies had insisted on me being wheeled into his room, if at all, so I ended up by his bedside in a chair that was two sizes too big, picking at an imperfection in my cast and trying to find the right words.

“Analyt… I didn’t understand. But now I do.. You can’t.. You can’t leave us. I did the same thing, tried to run from my problem. But.. We have got to tough this out. If anything is a testament to that, it’s this.”

He looked away.

“Listen to me! Please! Analyt, we need you. I need you!”

He spun around and his eyes linked into mine. I got the same feeling that I got when I was talking to Draco, and something unprecedented occurred.

I just can’t handle the pressure! came a choked voice, in a high tenor, urging in my head. What if this happens again? It’s my fault he’s dead! I lost my brother! We lost Gyara and it’s my fault!

As the newfound connection registered in my head, Analyt began weeping with a profound frustration.

“Analyt, listen to me! I feel like it’s my fault, too. But we need to work together. You have no idea how much I need you. We all need you.”

You feel responsible, too?

“Of course! Analyt, I’m a Pokemon trainer. I took the same oath everyone else does. I take full responsibility for my Pokemon at all cost. Please don’t make me lose you, too.”

I.. didn’t know. Alright. I’ll stay. I’m just.. So sorry…

“What’s done is done, with or without fault.” Suddenly, the dreams, the nagging feeling in my heart, everything clicked. “Analyt..”

What? Came his anxious mindvoice, his ocean eyes lit up in the painful fluorescent lighting.

“I.. I need to go on a journey.”
 

Glover

Pain in Rocket side
Aww, finished and I just found it. Surpriseing for me, I caught a few sections of missing punctuation, and a few points where the tags for Draco run too far over into the narration, I'm not usually that good at the grammar side of things. They're months old though, but if you'd like for me to dredge them out I'll be happy to do so. Wonderful story though, especially for it's length. I look forward to the sequel.
 

dracoburn

Lance's protege
Thanks, man. Keep in mind that I usually post these when I'm sick and unable to do much else, so that's probably behind the iffy punctuation in spots.

Also, your character will have a (very brief) mention in the first chapter of the sequel, so keep an eye out for that. Like I said, it's brief, but ever-present.
 

Glover

Pain in Rocket side
Thanks, man. Keep in mind that I usually post these when I'm sick and unable to do much else, so that's probably behind the iffy punctuation in spots.

Also, your character will have a (very brief) mention in the first chapter of the sequel, so keep an eye out for that. Like I said, it's brief, but ever-present.

Awe. and Some.
 
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