Ash_Junior
Irredeemable Nerd
well, here it is. Saff, try not to drool on it too much. I DID just write this, you know....
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I was lost. No two ways about it. As I looked over the trees in the forest, their tall trunks standing firm, their green leaves softly fluttering in the slight breeze, and the ferns and other flora that served as underbrush, I knew it in my heart. I could hear the chattering of Sentrets, the mid-afternoon cry of Hoot hoots and the chirps of Pidgeys in the otherwise still air, the growling of my stomach—I’d been lost in the forest for just under a week, and had been out of water and food for half that time—my heart was beating so loudly that I figured that every Pokemon in a mile radius could hear it. Logically, I knew this couldn’t be true, but logic and I hadn’t been on the very best of terms lately, and those terms were getting worse and worse every day.
I was lost and I was scared—I knew this combination was a recipe for disaster, but I couldn’t help it. I had lost my whole family, my friends, and now even my home to war! I liked the outdoors more than most of my family, when they were alive, but now if I never again entered a forest, it would be too soon. Screw that, it would be fine with me if I never even saw a forest again!
Who am I? A very fair question. I hope my answer is good enough. My family had never been much for adventures, and for the most part I hadn’t either. We lived in Viridian City, and we liked it because as far back as anyone in the family could remember, we have always lived here. That, and we own—owned the Pokemart there and all the tourists, trainers, and people for the major airport in Kanto set us up pretty well financially. For most of the first ten years of my life, I had been studying to be Professor Oak’s aide, and was just about to ask him if I could take his test when he suggested that I go on a Pokemon journey. He knew that I wanted to be a researcher, and told me that I would get valuable insights on Pokemon if I went on a journey that I wouldn’t get otherwise. He told me that watching Pokemon interaction would probably be the basis for my future research. Someday, I plan to be a professor as prominent as Oak. I’m eligible for college, if there were any left in Kanto, and know more than most kids my age about battle strategies, famous battles in history, and battle techniques. Those subjects were my driving passion in school, and have been the subject for several hypotheses I have made on new attacks that could possibly be formed. Because of the small fact that I have no Pokemon, however, I have no opportunities to test them out. However, I now see why Oak wanted me to go on a journey, and what he meant by valuable experience. That’s why I’m off to Johto, so I can get a team and test my hypotheses. Someday I’ll have my own lab, and I’ll churn out new techniques like nobody’s business.
I’m about average for my age in about every way except for my battle knowledge, red hair, brown eyes, and a craving for adventure that can only be filled by a Pokemon adventure, which most kids who are fifteen have already had, or at least started. Thus the trip to Johto. The only things I have are what I had with me before my house blew up. A set of jeans, a black shirt, and a red vest, plus the one Pokeball I’d saved most of my money for five years for. It only cost me two thousand dollars (I caught a sale)! I also had my survival notebook—the one I had filled with notes during the survival classes that were mandatory before the invasion (You know, the classes where almost everyone else was goofing off or sleeping?). I had only one thing more, and it was my most prized possession. It was a Pokedex, taken from Professor Oak’s lab just hours before it was burned to the ground.
I had been one of his favorite sidekicks, and I had come to his lab nearly every day, soaking up as much knowledge about Pokemon that I could. And that knowledge was being put to good use, now. I had managed to avoid over a dozen Pokemon because of the training. But I still had a long way to go before I got to Johto.
I shifted the club I had in my hand to my left hand and adjusted the Bandolier I had gotten at a prize at some fair several years before the invasion, and that I now used to keep the rocks to throw at small Pokemon in. For most small Pokemon, that would be enough to shoo them away, hopefully. For the larger ones....that was what the club—rather a sturdy branch I'd picked up somewhere along the way—was for.
From behind me, there was the noise of something crashing through the woods. I whirled around, tossing the club back to my right hand, and waited. By the sound of it, there wasn't much more than two things coming through the woods towards me. I swallowed. I wasn't much of a warrior.
Then it was upon me. A small, green form shot out of the brush in front of me, and darted behind me. I had just enough time to glance back and see that it was an Asfiriath and back in front of me before the Poochyena slowed to a stop in front of me. I knew what the tiny equine was from my time studying at Oak's lab—not many of them are still around.
Originally from Sintaur, the country of the horse Pokemon Masters, I knew, Asfiriath were the devolution of Asgiliath, which were more the size of horses as almost everyone thought of them. Asfiriath, by comparison, were generally taller than a Growlithe. This one was smaller even, so it was obviously a very young Pokemon. The vines that formed its mane and tail were shaking violently, obviously scared. The leaf-like hairs of its coat were marred with a yellowish blood, and I could tell that it had barely escaped the Poochyena.
Before the Engaran invasion, it would have been inconceivable to see one of them running around. But during the invasion, I knew, many Pokemon that were otherwise largely domesticated were let loose by the Engarans, to prevent an uprising against them. These Pokemon had met with others of their own species, and had begun repopulating the forests around Kanto—forests that had largely been decimated by the atttacking force.
For the first several years after the invasion, all Pokeballs were forbidden to private use throughout the country. It was only within the last several months that Pokeballs and other trainer aids such as Potions were once again being sold, but at prices far greater than they had been before the invasion. This would have made many people fortunes if the Engarans hadn't confiscated their stocks of trainer aids immediately after the invasion.
The Poochyena—jet-black canines known for their ferocity, bullying other Pokemon, and fangs disproportionally large to its body. The dark types' tails bristled, the hair making them seem twice as big as they normally were. After the initial shock of seeing them, time seemed to slow down. The adrenaline roaring through my veins yelled at me to run after seeing the fangs. But then reason took back over.
Poochytena, I recalled, were definitely bullies. Anything smaller—or sometimes bigger—than them were fair game. They remained bullies because their prey stayed terrified of them. But if one were to fight back against them, they would run. I shifted my club to my left hand and reached for the bandolier and picked out a rock. I threw it at the left-most Poochyena and swung clumsily for the second with the club.
I heard a yelp from the Poochyena I had hit with a rock, and heard it turn and run. The other Poochyena, this one a good deal larger than its now hastily-retreating fellow, backed up several steps, flattened itself against the ground, and began to growl.
For a second, I had no idea what was going on, but something about the Poochyena's movements was familiar. I couldn't quite remember what it was. I switched the club back to my right hand, and waited for the Poochyena to make a move. It was something that I definitely would regret for a long time.
It was nothing at first, but then a light began to come from the growling Poochyena. At first I ignored it, and waited for it to move. Then the light began to grow brighter and brighter, until it took the familiar luminescence of a Pokemon evolution.
Then, with a sinking stomach, I remembered where I recognized the behavior of the Poochyena in front of me. It was the warning symbols of a Mightyena attack. Mightyena were far more powerful than Poochyena. They retained the caricaturishly large jaws, and most of their black coat, but they also received a silverish-grey streak of fur running from underneath their neck, widening until it covered the whole of its underbody, save for black “socks” covering its feet and about half of its legs. But, what worried me more than this, Mightyena were notoriously vicious Pokemon, and most never let up an attack, once begun.
My face turned white and turned around and started to run, Asfiriath several feet in front of me. I may have been able to fend off a tiny little Poochyena, but there was no way that I would be able to fend off a Mightyena.
Then something landed on my back, knocking me forward, my head jarring into Asfiriath. I heard the tiny horse squeal as I was surrounded by a bright light. I could feel the Mightyena's paws, digging into my back. I could feel its putrid breath against the back of my neck. I rolled over, and it yelped as it slipped. I could feel it clawing for traction, its nails clawing through my already-thin shirt and ripping into my skin. I screamed, and the Mightyena darted away. I sat up and looked around. The Mightyena was barely a yard away, watching me carefully, the light of its evolution only now slowly fading.
I knew that I had only one chance. I whipped my club around, and pointed it at the dog Pokemon. To my horror, I saw that I had broken it in my fall, and had been split into two pieces. I watched, as if in some horrible, twisted nightmare, as the piece of bark that had been keeping the two pieces together snapped, and the other piece—the larger piece, I noted with horror—flew towards the Mightyena and slammed into its face.
The Mightyena roared in fury, and leaped onto me. It landed on my chest, its claws tearing through my shirt and into my skin. I acted instinctively, and bucked my legs up, my stomach and chest following. The action threw the Mightyena over my head, using its own momentum against it. I heard it land, snarl, and whip itself around. I was rolling to the side, reaching for the rocks in their pouches across my chest. I had almost gotten one free when it landed in the dirt in the direction was rolling. I looked up at it, and it looked down at me. Our eyes locked for a split second.
Then it was reaching down, going for my throat. I raised an arm to fend it off, and its jaws closed around my arm. I screamed at the pain, and dimly felt my body writhing. All of my attention was on that arm, and the pain that the Mightyena was causing. It shook my arm like a rag doll, and I heard at least five more distinct cracks. It dropped my arm, and again lunged for my neck. I rolled to the side, but not fast enough.
Its teeth were now firmly closed around my right shoulder. It picked me up and threw me a short distance. I had no chance to see where I was going before my head hit the tree. I tried grabbing the tree for support, but my shoulder and my arm seemed to match my own voice in volume, both screaming out at the top of my and their lungs. I slid to the ground, exhausted, and turned my head back to the Mightyena.
The Mightyena was closing on me, its tongue licking my own blood off of its lips. My vision began to narrow. I saw five Poochyena appear behind the Mightyena, yellow blood staining their otherwise black fur. I felt my blood run cold. I had run across a Mightyena hunting party. It wasn't just the two Poochyena—or rather Poochyena and now this Mightyena. My eyelids began to droop, and I resisted the siren call of the blackness that was waiting in the wings to swallow me whole. Then they were on me, tearing at my body wherever they could get a hold in.
I heard a loud roar, and the six Pokemon flinched away from me as if shot. I saw a brightly-colored shape blurring its way across my vision—and then the blackness claimed me.
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I awoke slowly, and heard nothing. I felt nothing, except the feeling of being very tired. The memories of what had just happened flew through my mind, and my eyes jerked open. I was in some sort of white-washed room, and there were electronics all around me. I tried to sit up, but my body screamed out in protest.
I could tell that I was on some kind of painkiller, but it wasn't entirely working. Not even close. I glanced down at my hand, and saw that I had some sort of IV running into my hand.
Then I felt myself getting even sleepier, and, before I realized it, I was once again asleep.
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I awoke with a start, the smell of bacon frying making my stomach growl. I sat up abruptly, and looked around. A teenage girl who had been sitting by my bed jumped. I focused on her. She was probably around my age—eighteen or so—and had long brown hair. “Gramps!” she yelled towards a door that I only now noticed. “He's awake!” she turned back to me, and gently but firmly pushed me back down to a lying position. Her concerned green eyes implored me to stay down. “Stay still,” she said quietly. “You've been through quite a bit.” her voice seemed alien and yet, strangely familiar. I could have sworn that I had heard her voice somewhere before.
I looked around the room again. This was nothing like the room I remembered being in before. This was constructed entirely of logs. At one end of the room was a curtained window where what were either the first streams of daylight or the last vestiges of dusk were coming in. On the walls were pictures that looked like the young woman in various stages of her life.
The young woman must have seen my confusion. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
I nodded. “Where is....” I trailed off. From what I could remember in the short time I had been awake, the other room hadn't had a window. What in the world?
“Your Asfiriath?” the young woman asked. “He's in the kitchen, eating. He's barely left your side. He seems quite taken with you.”
I frowned. I had forgotten about the ivy horse. “It-” I swallowed. “It's not mine. I came across it in the woods. Some Poochyena were chasing it, and--” I froze, my mind going back to the yellow blood on the coats of the Poochyena that had attacked me. I reached up and grabbed the girl by the arm, ignoring the pain that shot through my body. “Its family!” I told her. “Its family! Those Poochyena...” I trailed off as I saw their faces turn downwards. “They're dead, aren't they?” I asked.
The girl didn't take her eyes off the ground, and nodded. “Gramps' Arcanine chased them off, and then Gramps and I tracked their trail backwards. We had to leave almost immediately. The group that attacked you was only a small part of the pack. The pack had attacked the Asfiriath's herd.” She closed her eyes, and shuddered. “I don't want to see anything like that ever again.
I heard the clomping of hooves, and then something leaped up onto the bed. It was Asfiriath—it landed RIGHT on me. My mouth opened for a reflexive scream, but I closed it. The girl grabbed the Asfiriath and put it down on the floor. Its head popped up above the side of the bed, and looked up at me happily. “I'm Erin Slate,” she said quietly.
“Tyco Sanders.” I replied.
She tilted her head. “You're not from the Sanders family that runs the Viridian City Pokemon Mart, are you?” she asked. I nodded, and she grinned. “I thought you looked familiar!” she exclaimed. “Gramps and I used to go into town a couple times a month before....” she trailed off, but I understood. Before the invasion. The Asfiriath snuffled at my fingers, and I scratched its head. It whinnied in what I guessed was happiness. If it didn't like what I was doing, it probably would have gone after my fingers—or at the very least moved away from me.
An older man came through the door, one hand supporting a tray of food, the other on the doorknob. He rushed to the young woman's side. “How are you feeling?” he asked, looking down at me concernedly and setting down the tray on a side table next to my bed. “that Poochyena group tore you up pretty badly.” I closed my eyes, and turned away from the pair. I heard him speak softly to Erin. “I take it that you told him about....” he trailed off. She must have nodded, because he continued. “There's nothing that you could have done, son.” Asfiriath nuzzled against my fingers again, and I felt sick. And then suddenly angry. It was the thing that had gotten me into this position in the first place. I swatted at its nose angrily, not thinking. “Just leave me alone,” I said quietly to the two humans.
The older man sighed. “If that's what you want.” he said. “But don't forget to eat.” I heard him turn around and leave. I turned to the girl, and glared at her. “Didn't you hear me?” I demanded. “I want to be alone.” She opened her mouth to talk. “Get out!” I snapped at her.
Reluctantly, she got to her feet, and headed for the door. I let my head fall back into the pillow, and tears began to form in my eyes. The Asfiriath's whole family was dead? I'll never be sure, but I think I saw Erin turn and look back at meat the doorway, before leaving the room completely and closing the door behind her.
I just needed some time alone. Asfiriath's nose was pushing against my fingers again. I didn't do anything, and she pushed her head underneath my hand, then walked forward, forcing me to pet it. I sighed. Well, at least it wouldn't hate me for hitting it. That was one good point in all of this.
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It took me a long time to get over that fit of depression. If I remember correctly, something like a week and a half. I couldn't help but feel guilty about Asfiriath's family. But Asfiriath didn't mind. She became a loyal companion, and only left my room when she had to eat.
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“I had a little brother, Caleb, two big sisters, Susan and Emily,” I said, grinning. I had finally been able to walk to the kitchen table to eat without too much pain today, almost two weeks since I had woken up in the cabin, and I was in a much happier mood than I had been in a long time. “Caleb was a little brat, always running around and messing up whatever I was doing.” I was sitting on top of the covers, now, wearing some of Slate's old clothes. They were a little big for me, but at least it was better than the rags the Mightyena and Poochyena had left my original clothing.
Erin grinned at me. “I know the type.” she said. Asfiriath sat in her lap, and Erin scratched Asfiriath's head idly. Asfiriath whinnied happily and she settled down into Erin's lap. “I was the only kid in my family, but I actually put a lock on my door to keep an annoying neighbor out of my room. Before...” she trialed off and looked down at Asfiriath. She sighed. “Before mom and dad split up.”
The comment that my parents had made me take the lock off of my door died on my lips, and the room was silent for a minute. “I-I'm sorry.” I offered.
Erin shook her head. “No, don't be. Their splitting up was one of the best things that happened to me. Before then, they were always fighting, and I just got sick of it. When they split up, they couldn't agree who would get custody of me, so I ran away from my mother's house—she was the one who was taking care of me,” she added, looking back up at me. “I came here, to Gramps' place. When I told him what was happening, he insisted that I stay with him, and said the same thing to both of my parents when they came to pick me up. He refused to let me go with them. He said that this would be a much better environment than anything they could provide for me.” Erin smiled, and looked back up at me, stroking Asfiriath absently. “He was right. I can't imagine what it would have been to live with them, constantly being pulled from one to the other.” She grinned at me. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I interrupted you. What were you saying?”
I grinned back. “Well, let's see. I told you about Viridian, house was always a mess because of us kids, and Caleb was a brat.” I grinned. “Right. I've got it now.” Asfiriath was curled up now, and was sleeping on Erin's lap. It was interesting how little Asfiriath acted like a horse, and instead acted like a cat or a dog. “My older sister, Susan, was a bit of a ditz. All she cared about was looking pretty and having the cutest boyfriend.” Erin grinned, and nodded knowingly. I reached to the table beside my bed for my glass of milk where her grandfather, Carl Slate, had dropped off my lunch, as was now the standard procedure. I looked down at my hands. “She died during the invasion. The Engarans blew up the school. Later they claimed that it was being used as a base. The only reason that Caleb and I had survived was because we had skipped school that day to go visit Oak.” I looked down at my hands.
Erin looked down at Asfiriath, and scratched the tiny horse between her ears. Asfiriath whinnied softly and burrowed deeper into Erin's lap. Erin glanced at her watch, and then up at me. “You feeling up to helping me feed the Arcanine?” she asked. “it's time for me to go feed 'em, but we can keep talking if you're up to it.”
I took a deep breath, and nodded. The trip to the kitchen table across the table had been the farthest I'd managed to go since the Mightyena attack, but I had done several laps around the room, with Erin's help. I swung my feet over the side of the bed, and reached for Erin's shoulder. I grabbed it and got to my feet gingerly. “You okay?” Erin asked conscientiously.
I nodded to her and cautiously stepped forward. Some pain shot up my leg from the rips that the Poochyena had left in their wake, but I could handle it. “Yeah,” I said, trying to keep the pain from my voice. “Let's go.”
Erin looked at me uncertainly. “You sure that you're fine?” She asked. I nodded, and took a deep breath. She looked at me like she knew what I was doing, then started walking forward slowly, making sure to stay within an arm's length of me. “That's two of your siblings,” Erin said, opening the door for me. I had told her numerous times to let me open the door for her, but she always ignored me. Probably something about the Poochyena attack. But I felt a little odd, having a girl opening my doors for me, instead of the other way around. “What about your older sister...Emily, was it?” We were in the kitchen, now. It wasn't much. Just the wooden logs for the walls, a table that could seat up to six people, depending on how you arranged the chairs, a stove, a sink, a fridge, and some cupboards. Hanging around the room were pictures of Pokemon in different poses.
I nodded. “Emily. She had gone through an accelerated schooling program and had graduated school at sixteen. By age eighteen, she was running the store. Four months after she started running it, the invasion hit, and the Engarans grabbed all of our stock, and left us penniless.” We were going through the back door now, back to the shed. The outdoors, as I had surmised, was a clearing around the shack for at least fifty feet in all directions. Beyond that was the Western reaches of Viridian Forest. To the northeast, I could see what had been Indigo Plateau. Idly, I wondered if anyone still lived there, after the Engarans razed all the buildings on it to the ground.
“Somehow, she always came up with some money. Personally, I suspect that she was involved with the black market. She had probably hidden a stash of Pokemon supplies away somewhere before the confiscation, and then was slowly selling them off.” I glanced ahead at Erin, but she was staring straight ahead, towards the shed
I followed her gaze, and saw the shed myself for the first time. It wasn't much. It looked a lot like an outhouse, but Erin had told me that they kept their supplies in there. Food for the Arcanine that protected the house from wild Pokemon, seed and tools for the vegetable and flower garden that they had out front, and other stuff that they needed. It looked a lot like the house. It was built out of logs that, Erin told me, came from the trees that had been in the clearing before her grandfather had cleared it.
“She dissapeared one day,” I continued. “I never saw her again. At first I thought that the Engarans had nabbed her for smuggling or for Pokemon training paraphernalia or something, but then they didn't come by our house and question us. Later I learned that she made it to Johto. I never heard from her again. She's one of the reasons I was heading to Jotho in the first place.” Erin nodded understandingly as she unlocked the padlock to the shed and stepped inside, bringing out a wheelbarrow. She dissapeared back inside the shed and brought a bag out with her.
I shrugged, a bit agitated because I knew I hadn't recovered enough from the attack to help her with the bags. “That's my family. Now how about yours.”
Erin reappeared out of the shed with another bag, and plopped it down onto the wheelbarrow on top of the other one. “Remember that story I told you about my grandfather keeping my parents from taking me with them?” she moved to the rear of the wheelbarrow and began pushing it. I followed her and nodded. “I was four years old.” I nodded, but she continued. “I can tell you a few things about Gramps, though. He used to travel all over the world, or so he tells me. Apparently he was the main researcher for that Pokedex we found on you. Seeing it made him start up his anti-technology rants again.” she grinned at me, then stopped in what looked like a normal spot out on the lawn. She put a finger into her mouth and whistled loudly.
Almost immediately, four Arcanine came crashing through the edge of the forest, preceded by a smaller shape that was out of the forest and at Erin's feet almost before my eyes registered seeing it. I looked down at it. It was a fox-like creature, its fur and long tail entirely gray but spiky. I could feel electricity crackling in the air as its blue eyes looked up at Erin eagerly. I frowned. I recognized it from my time at Oak's lab, but couldn't place the name.
I looked up at the Arcanine, whose long legs were quickly eating up the distance between them and Erin. Officially, their height was only about six feet high, but that was measured at their shoulders, or withers, not their heads. Including their heads up, they were probably seven and a half feet tall, on average. Because of their size, only the best trainers had evolved their Growlithe. Otherwise, they simply wouldn't have been able to have fed them. The huge, majestic creatures were awash in flame around their faces and chests, at their leg joints, and their tails. The rest of their bodies was a rich, if a bit warm, orange fur with black tiger stripes running across their back. Each of the large animals ran for the shed, and stood on their hind legs, leaning against the shed with their front legs, and grabbed a bowl off the roof of the shed, and trotted back to Erin.
One of the bowls, I noticed, contained another, smaller bowl. Erin grinned at me. “Darnyen can't reach his bowl up there, so we keep his in Pheonix's.” Darnyen. That was it. The grey fox was the Darnyen, one of the fastest Pokemon in existence, with its only real rival in that regard was the Arcanine. The Arcanine whose bowl had also contained the Darnyen's bowl preened and leaned against Erin when it heard its name. I looked affectionately at Pheonix. He had been the first to get to me, and had gotten the Poochyena's attention off of me and onto him.
“My legs are starting to hurt,” I said to Erin. “I'm going in to lie down.” whatever the Poochyena did to me after I went unconscious, it seriously limited my ability to stnd for extended periods of time. “And I think I'm going to take a nap, too.”
Erin nodded at me. “All right. Supper'll be at six-thirty tonight.”
I nodded back, and started hobbling my way back towards the cabin. Step by painful step. Idly, I wondered how long it would be before I could get to Johto. And also about that room that I had thought I'd seen. Had it been a dream? I wasn't sure. Erin and Slate hadn't mentioned it, though, so I thought it best that I didn't either.
But if it wasn't a dream, where had it been? There wasn't anything out here for miles around.
But it had just been a dream....
Hadn't it been?
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I was lost. No two ways about it. As I looked over the trees in the forest, their tall trunks standing firm, their green leaves softly fluttering in the slight breeze, and the ferns and other flora that served as underbrush, I knew it in my heart. I could hear the chattering of Sentrets, the mid-afternoon cry of Hoot hoots and the chirps of Pidgeys in the otherwise still air, the growling of my stomach—I’d been lost in the forest for just under a week, and had been out of water and food for half that time—my heart was beating so loudly that I figured that every Pokemon in a mile radius could hear it. Logically, I knew this couldn’t be true, but logic and I hadn’t been on the very best of terms lately, and those terms were getting worse and worse every day.
I was lost and I was scared—I knew this combination was a recipe for disaster, but I couldn’t help it. I had lost my whole family, my friends, and now even my home to war! I liked the outdoors more than most of my family, when they were alive, but now if I never again entered a forest, it would be too soon. Screw that, it would be fine with me if I never even saw a forest again!
Who am I? A very fair question. I hope my answer is good enough. My family had never been much for adventures, and for the most part I hadn’t either. We lived in Viridian City, and we liked it because as far back as anyone in the family could remember, we have always lived here. That, and we own—owned the Pokemart there and all the tourists, trainers, and people for the major airport in Kanto set us up pretty well financially. For most of the first ten years of my life, I had been studying to be Professor Oak’s aide, and was just about to ask him if I could take his test when he suggested that I go on a Pokemon journey. He knew that I wanted to be a researcher, and told me that I would get valuable insights on Pokemon if I went on a journey that I wouldn’t get otherwise. He told me that watching Pokemon interaction would probably be the basis for my future research. Someday, I plan to be a professor as prominent as Oak. I’m eligible for college, if there were any left in Kanto, and know more than most kids my age about battle strategies, famous battles in history, and battle techniques. Those subjects were my driving passion in school, and have been the subject for several hypotheses I have made on new attacks that could possibly be formed. Because of the small fact that I have no Pokemon, however, I have no opportunities to test them out. However, I now see why Oak wanted me to go on a journey, and what he meant by valuable experience. That’s why I’m off to Johto, so I can get a team and test my hypotheses. Someday I’ll have my own lab, and I’ll churn out new techniques like nobody’s business.
I’m about average for my age in about every way except for my battle knowledge, red hair, brown eyes, and a craving for adventure that can only be filled by a Pokemon adventure, which most kids who are fifteen have already had, or at least started. Thus the trip to Johto. The only things I have are what I had with me before my house blew up. A set of jeans, a black shirt, and a red vest, plus the one Pokeball I’d saved most of my money for five years for. It only cost me two thousand dollars (I caught a sale)! I also had my survival notebook—the one I had filled with notes during the survival classes that were mandatory before the invasion (You know, the classes where almost everyone else was goofing off or sleeping?). I had only one thing more, and it was my most prized possession. It was a Pokedex, taken from Professor Oak’s lab just hours before it was burned to the ground.
I had been one of his favorite sidekicks, and I had come to his lab nearly every day, soaking up as much knowledge about Pokemon that I could. And that knowledge was being put to good use, now. I had managed to avoid over a dozen Pokemon because of the training. But I still had a long way to go before I got to Johto.
I shifted the club I had in my hand to my left hand and adjusted the Bandolier I had gotten at a prize at some fair several years before the invasion, and that I now used to keep the rocks to throw at small Pokemon in. For most small Pokemon, that would be enough to shoo them away, hopefully. For the larger ones....that was what the club—rather a sturdy branch I'd picked up somewhere along the way—was for.
From behind me, there was the noise of something crashing through the woods. I whirled around, tossing the club back to my right hand, and waited. By the sound of it, there wasn't much more than two things coming through the woods towards me. I swallowed. I wasn't much of a warrior.
Then it was upon me. A small, green form shot out of the brush in front of me, and darted behind me. I had just enough time to glance back and see that it was an Asfiriath and back in front of me before the Poochyena slowed to a stop in front of me. I knew what the tiny equine was from my time studying at Oak's lab—not many of them are still around.
Originally from Sintaur, the country of the horse Pokemon Masters, I knew, Asfiriath were the devolution of Asgiliath, which were more the size of horses as almost everyone thought of them. Asfiriath, by comparison, were generally taller than a Growlithe. This one was smaller even, so it was obviously a very young Pokemon. The vines that formed its mane and tail were shaking violently, obviously scared. The leaf-like hairs of its coat were marred with a yellowish blood, and I could tell that it had barely escaped the Poochyena.
Before the Engaran invasion, it would have been inconceivable to see one of them running around. But during the invasion, I knew, many Pokemon that were otherwise largely domesticated were let loose by the Engarans, to prevent an uprising against them. These Pokemon had met with others of their own species, and had begun repopulating the forests around Kanto—forests that had largely been decimated by the atttacking force.
For the first several years after the invasion, all Pokeballs were forbidden to private use throughout the country. It was only within the last several months that Pokeballs and other trainer aids such as Potions were once again being sold, but at prices far greater than they had been before the invasion. This would have made many people fortunes if the Engarans hadn't confiscated their stocks of trainer aids immediately after the invasion.
The Poochyena—jet-black canines known for their ferocity, bullying other Pokemon, and fangs disproportionally large to its body. The dark types' tails bristled, the hair making them seem twice as big as they normally were. After the initial shock of seeing them, time seemed to slow down. The adrenaline roaring through my veins yelled at me to run after seeing the fangs. But then reason took back over.
Poochytena, I recalled, were definitely bullies. Anything smaller—or sometimes bigger—than them were fair game. They remained bullies because their prey stayed terrified of them. But if one were to fight back against them, they would run. I shifted my club to my left hand and reached for the bandolier and picked out a rock. I threw it at the left-most Poochyena and swung clumsily for the second with the club.
I heard a yelp from the Poochyena I had hit with a rock, and heard it turn and run. The other Poochyena, this one a good deal larger than its now hastily-retreating fellow, backed up several steps, flattened itself against the ground, and began to growl.
For a second, I had no idea what was going on, but something about the Poochyena's movements was familiar. I couldn't quite remember what it was. I switched the club back to my right hand, and waited for the Poochyena to make a move. It was something that I definitely would regret for a long time.
It was nothing at first, but then a light began to come from the growling Poochyena. At first I ignored it, and waited for it to move. Then the light began to grow brighter and brighter, until it took the familiar luminescence of a Pokemon evolution.
Then, with a sinking stomach, I remembered where I recognized the behavior of the Poochyena in front of me. It was the warning symbols of a Mightyena attack. Mightyena were far more powerful than Poochyena. They retained the caricaturishly large jaws, and most of their black coat, but they also received a silverish-grey streak of fur running from underneath their neck, widening until it covered the whole of its underbody, save for black “socks” covering its feet and about half of its legs. But, what worried me more than this, Mightyena were notoriously vicious Pokemon, and most never let up an attack, once begun.
My face turned white and turned around and started to run, Asfiriath several feet in front of me. I may have been able to fend off a tiny little Poochyena, but there was no way that I would be able to fend off a Mightyena.
Then something landed on my back, knocking me forward, my head jarring into Asfiriath. I heard the tiny horse squeal as I was surrounded by a bright light. I could feel the Mightyena's paws, digging into my back. I could feel its putrid breath against the back of my neck. I rolled over, and it yelped as it slipped. I could feel it clawing for traction, its nails clawing through my already-thin shirt and ripping into my skin. I screamed, and the Mightyena darted away. I sat up and looked around. The Mightyena was barely a yard away, watching me carefully, the light of its evolution only now slowly fading.
I knew that I had only one chance. I whipped my club around, and pointed it at the dog Pokemon. To my horror, I saw that I had broken it in my fall, and had been split into two pieces. I watched, as if in some horrible, twisted nightmare, as the piece of bark that had been keeping the two pieces together snapped, and the other piece—the larger piece, I noted with horror—flew towards the Mightyena and slammed into its face.
The Mightyena roared in fury, and leaped onto me. It landed on my chest, its claws tearing through my shirt and into my skin. I acted instinctively, and bucked my legs up, my stomach and chest following. The action threw the Mightyena over my head, using its own momentum against it. I heard it land, snarl, and whip itself around. I was rolling to the side, reaching for the rocks in their pouches across my chest. I had almost gotten one free when it landed in the dirt in the direction was rolling. I looked up at it, and it looked down at me. Our eyes locked for a split second.
Then it was reaching down, going for my throat. I raised an arm to fend it off, and its jaws closed around my arm. I screamed at the pain, and dimly felt my body writhing. All of my attention was on that arm, and the pain that the Mightyena was causing. It shook my arm like a rag doll, and I heard at least five more distinct cracks. It dropped my arm, and again lunged for my neck. I rolled to the side, but not fast enough.
Its teeth were now firmly closed around my right shoulder. It picked me up and threw me a short distance. I had no chance to see where I was going before my head hit the tree. I tried grabbing the tree for support, but my shoulder and my arm seemed to match my own voice in volume, both screaming out at the top of my and their lungs. I slid to the ground, exhausted, and turned my head back to the Mightyena.
The Mightyena was closing on me, its tongue licking my own blood off of its lips. My vision began to narrow. I saw five Poochyena appear behind the Mightyena, yellow blood staining their otherwise black fur. I felt my blood run cold. I had run across a Mightyena hunting party. It wasn't just the two Poochyena—or rather Poochyena and now this Mightyena. My eyelids began to droop, and I resisted the siren call of the blackness that was waiting in the wings to swallow me whole. Then they were on me, tearing at my body wherever they could get a hold in.
I heard a loud roar, and the six Pokemon flinched away from me as if shot. I saw a brightly-colored shape blurring its way across my vision—and then the blackness claimed me.
++++++
I awoke slowly, and heard nothing. I felt nothing, except the feeling of being very tired. The memories of what had just happened flew through my mind, and my eyes jerked open. I was in some sort of white-washed room, and there were electronics all around me. I tried to sit up, but my body screamed out in protest.
I could tell that I was on some kind of painkiller, but it wasn't entirely working. Not even close. I glanced down at my hand, and saw that I had some sort of IV running into my hand.
Then I felt myself getting even sleepier, and, before I realized it, I was once again asleep.
+++++
I awoke with a start, the smell of bacon frying making my stomach growl. I sat up abruptly, and looked around. A teenage girl who had been sitting by my bed jumped. I focused on her. She was probably around my age—eighteen or so—and had long brown hair. “Gramps!” she yelled towards a door that I only now noticed. “He's awake!” she turned back to me, and gently but firmly pushed me back down to a lying position. Her concerned green eyes implored me to stay down. “Stay still,” she said quietly. “You've been through quite a bit.” her voice seemed alien and yet, strangely familiar. I could have sworn that I had heard her voice somewhere before.
I looked around the room again. This was nothing like the room I remembered being in before. This was constructed entirely of logs. At one end of the room was a curtained window where what were either the first streams of daylight or the last vestiges of dusk were coming in. On the walls were pictures that looked like the young woman in various stages of her life.
The young woman must have seen my confusion. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
I nodded. “Where is....” I trailed off. From what I could remember in the short time I had been awake, the other room hadn't had a window. What in the world?
“Your Asfiriath?” the young woman asked. “He's in the kitchen, eating. He's barely left your side. He seems quite taken with you.”
I frowned. I had forgotten about the ivy horse. “It-” I swallowed. “It's not mine. I came across it in the woods. Some Poochyena were chasing it, and--” I froze, my mind going back to the yellow blood on the coats of the Poochyena that had attacked me. I reached up and grabbed the girl by the arm, ignoring the pain that shot through my body. “Its family!” I told her. “Its family! Those Poochyena...” I trailed off as I saw their faces turn downwards. “They're dead, aren't they?” I asked.
The girl didn't take her eyes off the ground, and nodded. “Gramps' Arcanine chased them off, and then Gramps and I tracked their trail backwards. We had to leave almost immediately. The group that attacked you was only a small part of the pack. The pack had attacked the Asfiriath's herd.” She closed her eyes, and shuddered. “I don't want to see anything like that ever again.
I heard the clomping of hooves, and then something leaped up onto the bed. It was Asfiriath—it landed RIGHT on me. My mouth opened for a reflexive scream, but I closed it. The girl grabbed the Asfiriath and put it down on the floor. Its head popped up above the side of the bed, and looked up at me happily. “I'm Erin Slate,” she said quietly.
“Tyco Sanders.” I replied.
She tilted her head. “You're not from the Sanders family that runs the Viridian City Pokemon Mart, are you?” she asked. I nodded, and she grinned. “I thought you looked familiar!” she exclaimed. “Gramps and I used to go into town a couple times a month before....” she trailed off, but I understood. Before the invasion. The Asfiriath snuffled at my fingers, and I scratched its head. It whinnied in what I guessed was happiness. If it didn't like what I was doing, it probably would have gone after my fingers—or at the very least moved away from me.
An older man came through the door, one hand supporting a tray of food, the other on the doorknob. He rushed to the young woman's side. “How are you feeling?” he asked, looking down at me concernedly and setting down the tray on a side table next to my bed. “that Poochyena group tore you up pretty badly.” I closed my eyes, and turned away from the pair. I heard him speak softly to Erin. “I take it that you told him about....” he trailed off. She must have nodded, because he continued. “There's nothing that you could have done, son.” Asfiriath nuzzled against my fingers again, and I felt sick. And then suddenly angry. It was the thing that had gotten me into this position in the first place. I swatted at its nose angrily, not thinking. “Just leave me alone,” I said quietly to the two humans.
The older man sighed. “If that's what you want.” he said. “But don't forget to eat.” I heard him turn around and leave. I turned to the girl, and glared at her. “Didn't you hear me?” I demanded. “I want to be alone.” She opened her mouth to talk. “Get out!” I snapped at her.
Reluctantly, she got to her feet, and headed for the door. I let my head fall back into the pillow, and tears began to form in my eyes. The Asfiriath's whole family was dead? I'll never be sure, but I think I saw Erin turn and look back at meat the doorway, before leaving the room completely and closing the door behind her.
I just needed some time alone. Asfiriath's nose was pushing against my fingers again. I didn't do anything, and she pushed her head underneath my hand, then walked forward, forcing me to pet it. I sighed. Well, at least it wouldn't hate me for hitting it. That was one good point in all of this.
+++++
It took me a long time to get over that fit of depression. If I remember correctly, something like a week and a half. I couldn't help but feel guilty about Asfiriath's family. But Asfiriath didn't mind. She became a loyal companion, and only left my room when she had to eat.
+++++
“I had a little brother, Caleb, two big sisters, Susan and Emily,” I said, grinning. I had finally been able to walk to the kitchen table to eat without too much pain today, almost two weeks since I had woken up in the cabin, and I was in a much happier mood than I had been in a long time. “Caleb was a little brat, always running around and messing up whatever I was doing.” I was sitting on top of the covers, now, wearing some of Slate's old clothes. They were a little big for me, but at least it was better than the rags the Mightyena and Poochyena had left my original clothing.
Erin grinned at me. “I know the type.” she said. Asfiriath sat in her lap, and Erin scratched Asfiriath's head idly. Asfiriath whinnied happily and she settled down into Erin's lap. “I was the only kid in my family, but I actually put a lock on my door to keep an annoying neighbor out of my room. Before...” she trialed off and looked down at Asfiriath. She sighed. “Before mom and dad split up.”
The comment that my parents had made me take the lock off of my door died on my lips, and the room was silent for a minute. “I-I'm sorry.” I offered.
Erin shook her head. “No, don't be. Their splitting up was one of the best things that happened to me. Before then, they were always fighting, and I just got sick of it. When they split up, they couldn't agree who would get custody of me, so I ran away from my mother's house—she was the one who was taking care of me,” she added, looking back up at me. “I came here, to Gramps' place. When I told him what was happening, he insisted that I stay with him, and said the same thing to both of my parents when they came to pick me up. He refused to let me go with them. He said that this would be a much better environment than anything they could provide for me.” Erin smiled, and looked back up at me, stroking Asfiriath absently. “He was right. I can't imagine what it would have been to live with them, constantly being pulled from one to the other.” She grinned at me. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I interrupted you. What were you saying?”
I grinned back. “Well, let's see. I told you about Viridian, house was always a mess because of us kids, and Caleb was a brat.” I grinned. “Right. I've got it now.” Asfiriath was curled up now, and was sleeping on Erin's lap. It was interesting how little Asfiriath acted like a horse, and instead acted like a cat or a dog. “My older sister, Susan, was a bit of a ditz. All she cared about was looking pretty and having the cutest boyfriend.” Erin grinned, and nodded knowingly. I reached to the table beside my bed for my glass of milk where her grandfather, Carl Slate, had dropped off my lunch, as was now the standard procedure. I looked down at my hands. “She died during the invasion. The Engarans blew up the school. Later they claimed that it was being used as a base. The only reason that Caleb and I had survived was because we had skipped school that day to go visit Oak.” I looked down at my hands.
Erin looked down at Asfiriath, and scratched the tiny horse between her ears. Asfiriath whinnied softly and burrowed deeper into Erin's lap. Erin glanced at her watch, and then up at me. “You feeling up to helping me feed the Arcanine?” she asked. “it's time for me to go feed 'em, but we can keep talking if you're up to it.”
I took a deep breath, and nodded. The trip to the kitchen table across the table had been the farthest I'd managed to go since the Mightyena attack, but I had done several laps around the room, with Erin's help. I swung my feet over the side of the bed, and reached for Erin's shoulder. I grabbed it and got to my feet gingerly. “You okay?” Erin asked conscientiously.
I nodded to her and cautiously stepped forward. Some pain shot up my leg from the rips that the Poochyena had left in their wake, but I could handle it. “Yeah,” I said, trying to keep the pain from my voice. “Let's go.”
Erin looked at me uncertainly. “You sure that you're fine?” She asked. I nodded, and took a deep breath. She looked at me like she knew what I was doing, then started walking forward slowly, making sure to stay within an arm's length of me. “That's two of your siblings,” Erin said, opening the door for me. I had told her numerous times to let me open the door for her, but she always ignored me. Probably something about the Poochyena attack. But I felt a little odd, having a girl opening my doors for me, instead of the other way around. “What about your older sister...Emily, was it?” We were in the kitchen, now. It wasn't much. Just the wooden logs for the walls, a table that could seat up to six people, depending on how you arranged the chairs, a stove, a sink, a fridge, and some cupboards. Hanging around the room were pictures of Pokemon in different poses.
I nodded. “Emily. She had gone through an accelerated schooling program and had graduated school at sixteen. By age eighteen, she was running the store. Four months after she started running it, the invasion hit, and the Engarans grabbed all of our stock, and left us penniless.” We were going through the back door now, back to the shed. The outdoors, as I had surmised, was a clearing around the shack for at least fifty feet in all directions. Beyond that was the Western reaches of Viridian Forest. To the northeast, I could see what had been Indigo Plateau. Idly, I wondered if anyone still lived there, after the Engarans razed all the buildings on it to the ground.
“Somehow, she always came up with some money. Personally, I suspect that she was involved with the black market. She had probably hidden a stash of Pokemon supplies away somewhere before the confiscation, and then was slowly selling them off.” I glanced ahead at Erin, but she was staring straight ahead, towards the shed
I followed her gaze, and saw the shed myself for the first time. It wasn't much. It looked a lot like an outhouse, but Erin had told me that they kept their supplies in there. Food for the Arcanine that protected the house from wild Pokemon, seed and tools for the vegetable and flower garden that they had out front, and other stuff that they needed. It looked a lot like the house. It was built out of logs that, Erin told me, came from the trees that had been in the clearing before her grandfather had cleared it.
“She dissapeared one day,” I continued. “I never saw her again. At first I thought that the Engarans had nabbed her for smuggling or for Pokemon training paraphernalia or something, but then they didn't come by our house and question us. Later I learned that she made it to Johto. I never heard from her again. She's one of the reasons I was heading to Jotho in the first place.” Erin nodded understandingly as she unlocked the padlock to the shed and stepped inside, bringing out a wheelbarrow. She dissapeared back inside the shed and brought a bag out with her.
I shrugged, a bit agitated because I knew I hadn't recovered enough from the attack to help her with the bags. “That's my family. Now how about yours.”
Erin reappeared out of the shed with another bag, and plopped it down onto the wheelbarrow on top of the other one. “Remember that story I told you about my grandfather keeping my parents from taking me with them?” she moved to the rear of the wheelbarrow and began pushing it. I followed her and nodded. “I was four years old.” I nodded, but she continued. “I can tell you a few things about Gramps, though. He used to travel all over the world, or so he tells me. Apparently he was the main researcher for that Pokedex we found on you. Seeing it made him start up his anti-technology rants again.” she grinned at me, then stopped in what looked like a normal spot out on the lawn. She put a finger into her mouth and whistled loudly.
Almost immediately, four Arcanine came crashing through the edge of the forest, preceded by a smaller shape that was out of the forest and at Erin's feet almost before my eyes registered seeing it. I looked down at it. It was a fox-like creature, its fur and long tail entirely gray but spiky. I could feel electricity crackling in the air as its blue eyes looked up at Erin eagerly. I frowned. I recognized it from my time at Oak's lab, but couldn't place the name.
I looked up at the Arcanine, whose long legs were quickly eating up the distance between them and Erin. Officially, their height was only about six feet high, but that was measured at their shoulders, or withers, not their heads. Including their heads up, they were probably seven and a half feet tall, on average. Because of their size, only the best trainers had evolved their Growlithe. Otherwise, they simply wouldn't have been able to have fed them. The huge, majestic creatures were awash in flame around their faces and chests, at their leg joints, and their tails. The rest of their bodies was a rich, if a bit warm, orange fur with black tiger stripes running across their back. Each of the large animals ran for the shed, and stood on their hind legs, leaning against the shed with their front legs, and grabbed a bowl off the roof of the shed, and trotted back to Erin.
One of the bowls, I noticed, contained another, smaller bowl. Erin grinned at me. “Darnyen can't reach his bowl up there, so we keep his in Pheonix's.” Darnyen. That was it. The grey fox was the Darnyen, one of the fastest Pokemon in existence, with its only real rival in that regard was the Arcanine. The Arcanine whose bowl had also contained the Darnyen's bowl preened and leaned against Erin when it heard its name. I looked affectionately at Pheonix. He had been the first to get to me, and had gotten the Poochyena's attention off of me and onto him.
“My legs are starting to hurt,” I said to Erin. “I'm going in to lie down.” whatever the Poochyena did to me after I went unconscious, it seriously limited my ability to stnd for extended periods of time. “And I think I'm going to take a nap, too.”
Erin nodded at me. “All right. Supper'll be at six-thirty tonight.”
I nodded back, and started hobbling my way back towards the cabin. Step by painful step. Idly, I wondered how long it would be before I could get to Johto. And also about that room that I had thought I'd seen. Had it been a dream? I wasn't sure. Erin and Slate hadn't mentioned it, though, so I thought it best that I didn't either.
But if it wasn't a dream, where had it been? There wasn't anything out here for miles around.
But it had just been a dream....
Hadn't it been?