-+The Serebeth Noob Trials (PG 13-14)+-

[Insincerus]

Disclaimer: I'd say there's a significant amount of profanity in this fic, although it is mostly socially used. It also contains violence and naturally, a little bit of gore. It's nothing you should worry about too much, but it is something that must be pronounced. I don't believe this is for the faint of heart, although I do suggest you enjoy it.

This fic is a parody of circumstances of which will become obvious after you begin reading it (if you haven't already read the preview). Characters are also parodies of certain people (as you may or may not realize) on the Serebii Forums. It is intended for your entertaining pleasure, and I hope you have a pleasurable experience reading this story based on events occurring around the forums in a twisted new setting of a sleepy village, once disturbed, and now at peace...for now.

Chapter 1: Appalling Accusation​

“It’s over there…IN THE CUPBOARD!”

The thirteen-year-old boy scrambled to his feet as the old woman screeched at him. He sprinted to the dusty cupboards in the kitchen, his hands searching desperately for something. His sandy brown hair pulled into a ponytail in the back was a little moist from sweat, and his blue eyes were narrowed as he squinted into the dark past the cobwebs and dirt. He thought he spotted it in the corner, and grabbed it with his hand. Much to his dismay, it was a dust ball that exploded on contact, covering his brown vest, white turtleneck, and wool pants in grunge. An owl-like creature roosted on the rafter above him, clicking its beak menacingly as it watched him in amusement. He reached in again, and this time, his hand came out clutching a nice glass bottle containing a yellowish liquid inside.

“Bring me the damned scotch, boy!” the hag screeched, coughing into her hand.

The boy rushed to her bedside as she lied there in the patchy covers illuminated by the faint, orange glow of the gas lamp. The Pokémon overhead swooped down from the rafter onto one of the bed posts, its forehead crest musky with soot. It let out a hoot that made the boy jump, and he nearly dropped the bottle. Before anything else happened, he lifted the bottle to the old woman, and she snatched it greedily out of his hands. She twisted the cap off rather quickly, and without any resent, poured the alcohol down her aching throat. It felt warm against her tongue, and it gave her a fuzzy feeling.

“Ahhh…” she croaked as she laid back into her pillow. The boy watched her unnervingly as she put the bottle on the bedside table. He did not want to, but he ventured a question, “Aunt Bertie, I…are you going to…die?”

The old woman twisted her head towards him, and let out a maniacal cackle. “You didn’t figure that out already? Your mother must have dropped you on the head when you was a baby!” This comment burned into the boy’s heart, and he clenched his fists in reaction. “When will you die?”

“I suppose very shortly, you little ***,” she coughed. “What kind of civil person are you, eh? To ask a dying woman when she will die?”

“I want to know when,” the boy said, his voice trembling.

“There you are again!” she cried, sending herself into another coughing fit. After she was through hacking, she released a laugh that sounded like a creaking door. “When I’m out of my misery, I won’t have to worry about you anymore!”

“You speak of me like a parasite!” the boy said angrily.

“Oh, you’re even lower than a parasite! Still…just when your mother died, she expects her mother’s sister to take care of a pestilent little worm such as yourself. SHE must have been dropped on her head as well. And here you’ve been, leeching off of me until you got me to this state. I’m just glad you’ll get your just dessert in the bitter end!”

“Oh yeah?” the boy challenged. “And what will you do when you’re sitting in your grave, you old crone?”

The woman laughed hysterically, sending herself into another frenzy of whoops and coughs. “When I’m dead, you won’t have anywhere to go! The orphanage’ll scoop you up off of the streets and keep you there! You’ll be working for them day and night until your eyes extrude from your head, because no one would ever want to adopt such a low, worthless, burning piece of scrap like you!”

At the end of her words, she began laughing. It was a booming, nightmarish laughter that sent chills down the boy’s spine. She wouldn’t stop. The owl clicked its beak furiously now. He just wanted to get it over with. He wanted to shove a pike through her blackened heart. He was nearly raising his hands above her throat, when she suddenly went into a spasm, and began to choke. Her breath became gurgling, and nothing could stop death from taking its toll. In a mere second, her breathing stopped, and she sunk into the bed. Her lifeless eyes remained open and a pure look of wretched terror across her face. The boy gave the old woman a dark glare. As he gave a final glance to her, he stood up from the floor. The cabin seemed haunted now, and even though the warm feeling the small fire in the hearth created was present, it felt like one of the coldest nights he had ever felt.

The boy went to the door, where a black cloak was hanging on a nail pounded into the wall adjacent to it. The owl on the bedpost began hooting again, its hypnotic eyes digging into the boy’s back. He slung the cloak over his body, and pulled the hood over his head. He stood there for a moment, staring at the door, and then walked back towards the bed post. He looked at the hazel-feathered owl Pokémon. It tilted its head, and released another series of hoots. He held out his arm, and the bird immediately lifted off from the wooden frame and descended slowly onto his outstretched arm, flapping its wings until touchdown. Suddenly, the boy heard a swish in the windows curtains. Something grunted outside, but before he could turn his head, something horrible happened.

The lantern fell into the wooden floor with a crash, and the glass shattered into shards everywhere. Oil seeped all around the wood, staining it a dark, ugly color. The wick that was in the lamp set aflame and the fire reached and swelled across the flammable liquid. The flames dancing reflected in the boy’s eyes, which were filled with tears. He knew it was unsafe to be there. Without further hesitance, the young man shouldered through the door with the Pokémon bird’s talons in his arm. He was met by the cold, frosty autumn air and azure moonlight glowing in the sky. He could hear the flames roaring as he sped down the mountain towards the village.

When he finally reached the foot of the hill, he dared to look back. In the distance, he could see that the cabin on the summit was blazing rich colors of red and yellow. A thought occurred to him, but he ignored it, and ran forward into the abandoned square. The village buildings rose above him, silent giants as everyone slept within their hospitality. The cobblestones on his feet clattered with noise as he galloped past all the buildings, and even the Celenburg hall, to the huts. The streets soon transitioned from stones to raw soil, and wads of the earth were flung back into the air as the boy dug his feet into the ground. He wouldn’t let himself stop.

As he went into the neighborhood of huts, he passed signs such as “Art Discussion,” “Political Debating,” “Training Strategies,” and others as he wandered deeper into the thicket of them all. At last, he jogged straight towards the hut with the sign posted outside, “Lounge.” His legs slowed to a halt as he came closer to the door of the small shack. He could feel the warmth emanating from the inside, and already he heard voices grumbling and talking. He lifted his hand to the door, but stopped short. What am I doing? No one will help me now…maybe that old bag of bones was right. I’ll never surmount to anything…I…just want to kill myself!

Tears welling from his eyes, the boy gasped, and darted off in the opposite direction of the hut. The cold air bit into his face as he rushed through the village, but it didn’t matter. His life would come to an end anyway. It wasn’t worth living. His family had died, and he had no one. He kept running, and running, and running. The Noctowl clipped to his arm swayed back and forth, trying to keep balance, but eventually glided off into the night sky.

The boy ran directly into two middle-aged women crossing the street. They screamed in alarm, for it was certainly surprising to be run into while taking a stroll in the dark. The boy fell backwards onto the stone, knocking the wind out of him. He struggled to speak, but instead came weak groans, and sharp intakes of air that felt inadequate. The two women were clothed in robes of violet shades. One wore her black hair in a bun streaked with gray while the other lady had hers plainly straightened, although it had completely turned the tint of white. All of a sudden, a Pokémon jumped up onto the boy’s torso, licking him with a rough tongue in the face. The women battered it away, and the one with the bun bent over and spoke to him.

“James Carroll! Is that you?” she said in a high-strung voice.

“Aye, ma’am,” the boy replied wheezy voice.

“Excuse Snubbull here…he didn’t know better,” she said.

James raised his head over his chest to see a pink dog crouching behind the woman, very short in size, and polka-dotted with blue spots. The tips of its ears were black, and its eyes large and dull, while its lower jaw overlapped its upper jaw. It growled in a low, but forced tone: “Snub-bull…”

“Here, child,” the white-haired woman offered. “Get up off the ground. Unsuitable for a young man your age, running around like this at night…where is your mother?”

James looked solemnly at her and did not answer. The other woman leaned over and whispered in her ear, most definitely concerning his mother, and the white-haired lady’s eyes lit up.

“Oh, excuse me…does your great-aunt know you are running about this late at night?” she corrected.

“Er…”

He was not sure how he would answer. Then, the image of the cabin smoldering to a pile of ashes flashed across his mind. Oh, no…oh no, this can’t be happening…

“Well, what do you have to say for yourself, child?” the woman with the bun demanded.

Before he could answer, sitting on the ground with his mouth agape, a very large man that resembled a heavily wrinkled walrus with a mustache came bounding down the streets, panting and bouncing up and down in his blue and white striped pajamas. The women noticed his presence and turned around to him. He stopped beside them, his hands falling to his knees and his head looming over the ground as he took deep breaths. The women opened their mouths to say words, but the wrinkly, obese man lifted a finger.

“Snub-ull!”

The Pokémon took off toward the stranger. The women gasped, and the little dog opened its mouth wide and latched its canines onto the man’s chunky leg. The man let out a howl of pain, and writhed his leg in the air ferociously while the Snubbull contently deepened its teeth into the man’s flesh. The black and gray-haired woman lifted her bony hand and slapped the side of the Pokémon’s face, hammering the little dog onto the ground yelping from its puffy cheek. The man groaned and examined his wound, which looked rather fine had you considered that his skin must have been as strong as that of a rhinoceros. Still, he whined babyishly as the women confronted him.

“Sir, is something of urgency?” the white-haired woman asked.

“Indeed!” the man bellowed in a jiggled voice. “Smoke was spotted from the top of the Emerald Hills!”

“Do you think maybe someone is just handling a campfire of sorts?” the white-haired woman asked.

“I should reckon not!” the man said, blubbering. “The smoke’s a rising in billows like clouds! And we saw someone fleeing the scene, who may be an arsonist.”

“But the only people who live on those hills are…”

The two women looked at James with a great suspicion and shock. The boy realized he was again in very deep trouble. The fear burned in his cheeks and his blood became much too warm for normality. But the white-haired woman looked far graver than he did. Her aged face was white beyond the skin of a ghost, and every few seconds, her eyes twitched nervously.

“Has this child a hand in this incident?” the walrus man piped.

“James,” the woman with the bun called. “What were you doing when you ran into us?”

“I…I…”

He was speechless.

“James…James Carroll? The nephew of Bertie Campbell?” the walrus man asked. “BERTIE CAMPBELL?”

“Now, don’t overreact…perhaps he had seen the fire and was running to tell someone,” the white-haired woman said.

“Are you making the assumption that I believe this child set that house on fire?” the man boomed. “Because if so, you are most certainly correct!”

“James, is this true?”

The boy remained flabbergasted for a long moment. Suddenly, teardrops the size of golf balls began pouring from his eyes.

“Y-yes…it’s true,” he cried. “But it w-was on accident! I swear! I was leaving and something knocked over the lamp and—”

“I’VE HEARD ENOUGH,” the man growled, frightening the women to an extent. “Any relative of the Campbells is no good! After what happened fifty-seven years ago…”

“Really, sir!” the white-haired women declared. “Do you really think this child was capable of causing such harm?”

“I do!” the man retorted. “For he is the descendent of a dark race…BERTIE CAMPBELL WAS A NOOB!” He pointed a pudgy finger at James. The name he had just said struck no meaning to him, but it sounded as though it were the most unpleasant word in the English language. The women obviously knew what it meant, and were struck aback by this information.

“That is most foul thing to indict upon a person!” they both shrieked.

“No doubt that witch taught him the craft of the Noobs,” the man barked. “What say you, boy? Are you the flesh of a Noob? Oh why the hell would I be asking you, for you are only to deny it…”

“No! Whatever it is, I’m not what you think I am!” James said. “My great-aunt just passed away, and I was leaving when the gas lamp fell onto the floor and caught the house on fire!”

“Now you’re trying to cover that you KILLED your aunt?” the man said in disbelief. “There is no doubt. I am going to the authorities to report this…whether it is the work of a childish accident, or the evil craft of Noob, this boy shall not go unpunished! We will go to stop this fire from spreading, and then I am going to schedule a trial for this child due morning!”

Without any further comment, the man stuck up his nose at the boy, and dashed off into the dark, towards the Emerald Hills. The two women looked at each other.

“I’m going home…I…come on, Snubbull,” the gray and black-haired lady said.

Her dog Pokémon followed close behind her, making grumbling noises as they scurried off down the streets after the walrus man. The white-haired woman turned to James.

“Tell me the truth, boy,” she said. “What happened?”

“I…I don’t know,” James wept. “My great-aunt really did die…and…I was leaving, because I had no one left to take care of me and…I heard a strange noise, and all a sudden the house caught fire!”

The woman was about to answer him, when they felt a great rumble underneath their feet. A number of mixed screams were heard behind them, coming from the huts, and three seconds upon hearing them, they were followed by a great explosion as one of the buildings burst into flames.

 

[Tale]

Woohoo! It is released ^____^

Very, very interesting chapter, Chesh! Drew me in like a moth to a lantern, it did. I can't say much about it, I found no flaws and no typos whatsoever.

Well, good job on the first chapter, I'm eagerly awaiting the second.

 

[Psychic]

Oh, hooray, Cheshy has posted the first chapter! w00t!

Well, it didn't change much since you PMed it to me, which is a good thing, 'cause it's very well done. However, the mistakes I had found before were still there (yes, I should have pointed them out).

Description was fine, though maybe a bit more would have been good on the villiage itself.

Not much more to comment on, so I'll get right to the mistakes:

Before anything else happened, he lifted the bottle to the old woman, and she snatched it greedily out of his hands.

Should be 'who snatched it' instaed of 'and she snatched it'.

He held out his arm, and the bird immediately lifted off from the wooden frame and descended slowly onto his outstretched arm,

Maybe you should try to specify who the first 'he' is.

the young man shouldered through the door with the Pokémon bird’s talons in his arm.

Should be 'bird Pokémon'.
And maybe add a verb after 'talons', so it would be, for example 'the bird Pokémon's talons digging into his outstretched arm.' (Adding 'outstretched' just because it adds spice .)

The boy ran directly into two middle-aged crossing the street.

Middle-aged what? I think you left out a word here. ^^

The main groaned and examined his wound,

That should be 'man'.

The fear burned in his cheeks and his blood became much too warm for normality.

Maybe the end of this sentence should be reworded.


Sorry Tale, but I guess this means you're not too good at finding mistakes. ^^

Other than those, I saw no real flaws. It was very good, and I seriously can't wait for the next chapter. There are some things I'm just itching to see. *winks*

~Psychic

 

[Insincerus]

GASP. I...made mistakes :O Well, why didn't you tell me this by PM, Miss Psychic?

Starting school tomorrow, and by that time, I should have Chapter Two posted shortly.

Careful what ye say about my newblet, Psychic...he is just a newblet, still

 

[lilbluecorsola]

Hm, hm, an interesting start. It's quite mysterious. It would be especially for someone who hasn't read your Preview. I cannot wait to see how this unfolds. (^.^)

I truly have no critisicms to make; there were no errors that I spotted, not that I ever look for them, and your tone, mood, character emotions, all that important stuff, was excellent and on target. I'm definitely looking forward to reading this. (^.~) Can't wait for Chapter Two.

 

[Mimori Kiryu]

I've been waiting for this one to come out I love the description and the detail! It's good and I will be looking forward to the next chapter ^_^

 

[Dragonfree]

Heh, I'm finally here to read it...

Your style flows very well, which is nice. I also love the concept, as I may already have told you. This will be very interesting...

The story also clearly has more to it than just the parody, with James's background and all. Overall, great job. I wonder what next chapter will be like...

 

[Insincerus]

Good morning, Starshine! The Earth says hello!

lilbluecorsola: I respect that. Psychic here pointed out most of the mistakes (heehee ^.^) and I myself have been reading through the next chapters just to make sure everything is going according to plan.

♥~Mimori Kiryu~♥: Glad to have you on board, reader ^_^

Dragonfree: That's exactly it. Although it does have great amounts of parody, I have poked myself vigorously to try to get the best plot I can imagine stuffed into it. So far, I'm very proud of myself in achieving that goal. Thanks for the comment ^_^

All right, everyone, this be Chapter 2 (of which you can make accurate assumptions of by the title):

Chapter 2: Razor Blades, Fragrance, and Overly-extended Explanations​

The screaming echoed eternally in their minds, and already, people were fleeing from the tragic scene. Some even emerged from the fire with slabs of meat infused by the heat into their skin, like rotting scabs of torture. James gaped at them all, and a shiver of fear wriggled inside of his poor, aching heart. Suddenly, he was swiveled around by the white-haired woman.

“This is not a safe place for you. Come with me.”

“But…I don’t even know you!” James cried.

Without answering, the old woman grabbed the young teen by his waist. “Hey! Let go of me!” he yelled as she tipped him over her shoulder most surprisingly, as though a newfound strength had cracked from her senility. The boy rested on her shoulder, kicking and struggling to get free from the woman’s grasp, but it was no use. She was oddly stronger than he was. He stopped resisting as she carried him off around the corner of the Celenburg home, and onto an abandoned road west of the building. She did not speak a word, and just swept him off as though he were a pile of lumber for a fire.

“ARE YOU A WITCH?” James cried loudly. “What are you going to do? Eat me?”

“You need to learn to shut your abnormally large mouth!” she said, grunting under his weight. “A terrible curse has revealed itself!”

“What are you talking about, you crackpot old woman?” James said, his legs begging to walk.

“Don’t speak to your elders like that!” she rasped, taking a turn from the road into a narrow alley. “This is not a time for ranting.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“Stop asking questions.”

“Why?”

“Shut up.”

At this, James gave up, thinking there was nothing worse that could happen to him after his tragedies than a witch salvaging him for a cannibalistic feast. Nothing did seem to matter to him anymore, which in a way made him feel better. They continued walking down the alley, the woman with the boy on her shoulders giving her a hunchback-like appearance. Then, James saw a dark, winged shape swoop across the sky above them. He looked up, and indeed spotted a bird of some sort circling them. He immediately realized it was his Noctowl, Solomon. However, the alley was much too thin for the owl Pokémon to come down to his view. James did not dare to call out his name, but felt the Pokémon’s eyes on his. In a sort of non-verbal way, he gave the bird an acknowledgement of his presence, and to wait.

The old woman began slowing down, and finally, she stopped outside a door crammed into the brick wall of an old, discarded building. She did not let him down, however.

“Do you promise not to run away if I put you down?” she said calmly.

“After wanting to devour me? Of course not.”

“That’s quite sassy mouth you got there, but if you don’t drop this whole witch accusation, we’ll never get anywhere. There are worse things than witches out right at this very moment. In fact, I believe this thing is what framed your aunt’s death and the burning of her house.”

“Well, first of all,” James said, not caring whether this woman had time or not. “I hated that old hag. She was a monster all in herself, and if there’s anything less putrid than her, let me at them. What is going on?”

“If you come inside,” she said strongly, “then I will tell you.”

“You promise not to eat me?”

“Only if you promise not to run away.”

James took it all into consideration, but finally, he slipped off of her shoulder onto the gravel of the rough alley. They both stood there, looking at each other’s eyes: hers silver, and his blue. James’ ponytail swayed in the breeze as they stood there, staring at each other, and waiting for a reaction.

“Right then,” the woman said, looking contently to the door. “In we go.”

With her dirty, long fingernails, she rested her hand onto the small knob on the door. She then whipped out a small key from within her violet cloak, and inserted it into the slot. She turned it as she pulled the door, and it swung open. However, the alley was so cramped that the door smashed against the other wall blockading them in. The old woman sighed and muttered, “Oh, what the hell…” and shut it again. She ushered for James to squeeze in past her so they could both slink into the door. He did, and she opened it again to a crack just big enough for either one of them. James stepped inside, and the woman followed him.

They walked into a large room that was curtained with vast amounts of dark green and purple silk. It looked like a shop of scarves. A smell of lit potpourri trailed across the room from fragrance plants and fruits, to incense burners. One large, cushiony mauve bed was set into the center of it all, with a very large, locked chest at the foot of it. There was a lump in the bed, and James was not the only one to notice it. She strutted over to the bed, sitting on it. She patted it with her hand, and James thought she had gestured for him to sit down. However, instead, the prodding caused the lump in the bed to stir, and the blankets began moving. James stepped behind, and shut the door with his back. The lump instantly tore from the covers, showing what was lying there.

It was a winged insect Pokémon, with deep green skin that blanketed it like smooth oil. It jumped onto the bed, its fierce head glowing from the light of the candles in the room, and its scythes that extended from its arm sockets gleamed mythically in the dim glow.

“SCY-ther!” it screeched, galloping off of the bed, and spreading its wings that whirred quickly and buzzed. One of its sharp arm-blades slashed through the air toward James, and his heart nearly stopped. He jumped when it came right in front of his face, right at the tip of his nose when the woman yelled, “Stop!”

They just stood there a moment, with the sharp scythe pointing at the boy, and the Pokémon staring into his eyes with its dark pupils.

“Come, Scyther,” the woman said. The Pokémon hesitated, still gazing into James’ eyes, but receded and walked back to its master. “You can come too,” she added.

James walked palely toward them, his nervous body twitching from fright. The woman laughed softly. James went and sat on the edge of her bed, Scyther’s glare never ceasing.

“He gave you a scare, did he?” she asked amusingly.

“I…I’ve never seen a Scyther up close before,” he said, looking wondrously at the powerful Pokémon. “Only storytellers tell of them, and their description is no match for it in person.”

“Indeed,” she said, patting the Scyther on the head as it closed its eyes dreamily. “We were quite a dynamic duo…back when the Noobs lurked these lands.”

The word sparked something in his mind, and he remembered the fat walrus man accusing his great-aunt of being a Noob.

“What is a Noob?” James asked. “I…I’ve heard it before…sometime when Bertie was muttering in her sleep. Something about hunters. Are Noobs hunters?” The old woman chuckled.

“No, they are not hunters, but sole subjects of everything evil.”

“What is your name?” the boy asked curiously.

“That will be saved for the end of this story I am about to tell you, dear child,” she said. “It’s not important right now. For now, you do need explanation of a Noob…”

She suddenly got up from her seat on top of the chest, and hunched over it, opening it carefully. Scyther floated over to her side, peering amusingly into the box. Inside, she pulled out a worn leather book, titled “The Book of Obscure and Odd Words.” She slammed the chest shut, making candles in the room flicker, and dust puff out of the creases of the box. She wiped off the cover of the book, and walked over James’ spot, where she sat next to him. Scyther stood up on the bed, watching over their shoulders, his arm-blades sticking close to James, which made him very uncomfortable. The woman cleared her throat, and began flipping through the pages of the book. Finally, with an “aha,” she stopped at a page with a picture of over-roasted ham lying on the ground. She began to read.

“‘The common Noob,” she began, “is a creature similar to the Pokémon that originated from the region of Foruminium, a continent below the chain of Arcane Islands. Its scientific name is Ickiris omigawditigus tisanoobarus. The Noob was once a shape-shifting creature, having no true form or identity, although it is confirmed that they had red eyes, black skin, and a habit for conjuring terror. The word ‘Noob’ is also associated with the Noob clan, a group of wicked spell casters whose magic originated from curses of the creature, the ‘Noob.’ See page three hundred thirty-two for the ‘Noob clan.’”

The woman flipped through the pages again, scanning her eyes across text. She stopped at a page, where she pulled out some thin, reading glasses.

“I’ve been looking for these!”

She slipped them onto the end of her nose, and James eyed her weirdly. The Scyther chuckled, smiling brightly. She then flicked the pages again, coming to a halt at the page she had recited before.

“‘The Noob Clan was originally founded by a human named Corux Clergy. He had visited the cursed lands of Foruminium, a place that once thrived with ancient civilization, until it was swept away by the infestation of the Noob creature. Clergy arrived at the conclusion that if something great had crumbled the life of all of those who once lived there, he wished to obtain the power of the one who had brought it. Though it was risky to set foot amongst the menacing creatures, he achieved his goal in using ordinary spells to harness the energy of the Noob, which was the ability to set things aflame, summoning slaughtered Grumpig (dubbed ‘Spam’) and/or its flesh in the form of patties, and a chord in their throats that allowed them to release high-pitched noises that were most annoying and deafening.

“‘All of the witches’ learning had changed to Clergy’s new philosophy of Noob-craft, and became quite the phenomenon in the ages of Corux and his cronies, who had adopted the name from the origin of their magic, Noob. When one was to become a Noob, he or she was to undergo a ritual that included the removal of a minor vocal chord, killing three male Grumpig, and boil their blood over a fresh fire for drinking. This was supposedly how they were able to assimilate so many followers.

“‘After causing much chaos throughout the land, spies among the Noobs and others discovered Noobs’ weaknesses, and how they should be dealt with. An unofficial league of volunteers was born: the Noob Hunters and Noob Slayers. Though some were not even linked with one another, they all shared one purpose, and that was to annihilate the cult of Noobs worldwide. This became as popular as the Noobs themselves, and soon led to the downfall of many of the damned members, for they would never be able to spread their Spam, flaming, and screeching again.

“‘Many Noobs survived, however, and as a result of their conflict with the slayers, hid from the public, no longer an evil icon of horror, but a mere pest problem. It was only until three centuries that their uprising was rumored. When this occurred, the village of Serebeth was one of the first to actually discover a ‘Noob.’ His name was Braxton O’Conner, and unfortunately for the public who were unaware that he was not a Noob, but framed by one acting secretly, he was sentenced to the Forbidden Cave of Death, a cove that claimed its victims, and never released them.

“‘This finger pointing was made by an administrator of Joseph Celenburg, founder of Serebeth. Although her name has not been obtained, her accusation caused by the framing of Mr. O’Conner soon led to a dark age of bloodshed, known as the Serebeth Noob Trials, an epidemic of murder that was noted as the most homicidal period in time. Serebeth had found that they wished to eradicate all behavior of the Noobs and the spell casters themselves, but through hundreds of falsely accused victims and a handful of Noobs, Serebeth was brought to its knees by the destruction of its reputation, backstabbers, and vengeful death.

“‘Though good times have blossomed from Serebeth once more through decades of rebuilding it to a healthy physiological and corporeal state, its history leaves a scar which it only wishes to conceal. Noobs still exist today, and their current whereabouts and activities are unknown, but many have opinionated that the Noobs would one day return to bring havoc and revenge to the slayers and the entire world.’”

Once she had finished reading, it had been nearly a half hour of explaining.

“Could you have made something even longer?” James teased, looking up at Scyther thoughtfully as the Pokémon was sleeping once more in the velvet covers of the bed.

“You don’t think that was some boring lecture I made up to put you to sleep so I could put you in my oven, did you?” she said back to him. They both smiled, but both wearily. James sighed, looking at the floor, letting all of this information soak in.

“So the Noobs…you think that’s what caused all this flaming?”

“And Spamming,” she noted, pointing out the events where people had gone screaming with meat patties attached to their faces.

“But the book said that Noobs haven’t been around for ages… And what does all this have to do with me?”

The woman sighed. “You aren’t the only one… You see, child…James, right?”

“Yes’m.”

“James. Your home was set aflame, just as the book said Noobs had the power to do. When you fled, and your aunt was dying, a Noob that was lurking nearby found it a perfect rift in time to begin another set of Noob Trials. Don’t you see? Braxton O’Conner was framed for being a Noob, and although a few Noobs sacrificed their lives for this purpose, they purposely brought wreck, poverty, and the overall downfall of Serebeth in the past. They discovered that sometimes they didn’t have to work their magic constantly, but let wretched society do it for them with the terrible backstabbing of enemies and rivals within the village. A Noob has framed you, James, and they are going to start the Serebeth Noob Trials once more!”

“So you’re saying that because the incident looked like it was my fault, the slaughter of all those people will begin again?” James said, a tremble in his voice.

“Yes,” she said, covering the Scyther up affectionately with more blankets. “But what the whole world thought was a time-consuming event that brought us back up to our feet was actually a most extraordinary quest sought by the Noob Hunters and slayers that lasted for a very long time. It required great skill and feat to attain what was the power of purification from a creature. A Pokémon.”

“So the rebuilding of Serebeth is just a cover-up for the hunters and slayers to continue their quest without notice of the Noobs?” James inquired.

“You catch on quickly. It was a ‘cover-up,’ so to speak, and it did veil us from the Noobs. However, they have always had eyes everywhere, and the poor circumstances you faced were the best opportunity to spread the mass wave of atrocities across the land that had nearly killed them all off. It was said that Celebi left a few of the Noobs out of the radius of its purification last time, and that is the only reason why they still live today.”

“Whoa…wait second,” James said, putting up his hands. “Celebi. The Celebi? The Guardian of Nature?”

“Yes, right again. We had the power of Celebi on our side, but again, you forget the difficult quest we all faced just to obtain its power last time. It was the only way we could call upon it, and it takes great energy out of one’s soul. Some have even died just searching for this ‘holy grail’ Celebi provided. It is said that the legendary Pokémon can wipe out hoards of evil at once, and that is the tool we ultimately used,” she said, walking over to one of the incense burners and placing it on the chest. “But it did not take care of our problem completely, and again, we find ourselves in this horrible state again. So, with the inevitability of Serebeth’s destruction once more, we must begin the Quest of Purification once more, to prevent other lands to befall Serebeth’s fate, and to stop the Noobs from world domination. Only then will their evil be purged from this earth for good.”

“But why must I be included?” James said. “I’m only a boy!”

“I see strong potential in you,” she said, gazing into his eyes. “That, and we must keep you safe from the judicial system, so that we may be able to postpone the massacres waiting to happen. However, if the Noobs continue to terrorize Serebeth as I predict they should, trials will occur anyway, whether you are here or not. I was once a hunter, and now, I will gladly accept you and train you to help me on the quest. It was partially my fault the first Noob Trials happened, and I don’t want it to happen again…we’ll have to get reinforcements.”

Then, a thought occurred to James, and he realized what she had been all along.

“You…” he stuttered. “Y-you accused Braxton O’Conner!”

“Yes,” she said, not looking at him this time. “I am Mistress Dragonfreel…and what a foolish mistake I had made. However, this time I don’t intend to let evil triumph over me and Serebeth again. If Joseph were still living, his name would be in vain. I cannot let it happen again.”

“But the trials were so long ago…how did you survive for so many years?”

“It seems that life has a will, James,” Dragonfreel said, breathing in the environment deeply. “And we can’t stop that will. In this case, I live for the sole purpose of wiping out the Noobs, once and for all.”

“I…feel so encouraged,” James said. “I have craving for adventure…and courage. It’s a new strength…”

“Good. There is no time to waste,” Dragonfreel said, prodding Scyther with her hand. “We must get going, or that oafish man and other concerned citizens find us.”

“Justice is murder,” James said as they both walked to the chest.

Dragonfreel explained no more, and just began heaving objects into two backpacks, one for each of them. Their contents included wooden spikes, butcher knives, concealable pikes, and jars of marmalade.

“What’s all the marmalade for?” James asked.

“Noobs,” Dragonfreel said as she plopped a sack of very sharp jacks into the bags. “The smell of it wards them off.”

After tedious packing, the did finally equip themselves with all that they would need, heading to a location where Dragonfreel mentioned a colleague interested in aiding them was to be. Solomon had perched himself outside the alley, patiently waiting for their arrival as it clicked its beak at Scyther and company. Together, they snuck across the Emerald Hills in the dead of night while bustling in the village was already present, with sharp objects, jars of repelling marmalade, and the will to stop evil from reigning once again.

 

[Mimori Kiryu]

Another awesome chapter....but I have to get off soon, so I can't point out all your mistakes right now, but it was really good I love this story a lot. *subscribes*

 

[Insincerus]

Wow, lol...you read that entire thing in less than eleven minutes? ;;

I was sooo glad to get replies from last chapter, by the way. I had nearly given up on myself again ;-; I liked this chapter as well...the whole explanation of the Noobs will certainly explain their activities for the future...

Mistress Dragonfreel! *GASP* What a shocker But what an interesting character she will be in the future...

 

[Psychic]

Oh, you had to post the next chapter during Rosh Hashana dinner. -_-

But this was great!
The whole atmosphere and mood was perfect! Characters are well-developed, acting in character.
Description was fit: this was one of those chapters where a lot of description isn't really needed. Actually, your writing style itself doesn't require much description!
Again, I really like your writing style. Just the way it's so serious that it's funny. And then she packs the marmalade! *giggles* Well, you make Dragonfreel pack all this...I dunno, serious stuff, then a bunch of jars of marmalade! It's just great the way you incorporate humor like that!

You did a good job proofreading, as I saw no errors. *this is the part where some other member posts with a list of mistakes*


Well, keep writing, as you're doing an awesome job (as usual, lol).
Can't wait to read about you-know-what! XD

~Psychic

 

[Dragonfree]

Aww, I liked being the evil Admin who runs around pointing at people and screaming "I ACCUSETH THEE OF BEING A NOOB!"

Heh, but it's interesting to have Dragonfreel reappear as the old woman. Certainly is a nice twist.

And by all means give Scyther a good role.

 

[Tale]

I. Love. This. Story.

Maybe it's cos I'm in a happy mood or summat, but I feel your writing is certainly on par with that of a proffesional authors (even above, from some of the books I've read). I love everything about it! You've really gone deep into this, I was stunned by the amount of history Dragonfreel was reeling off *_*
One dedicated writer, and one of the best I've seen. *blubbers*

 

[lilbluecorsola]

Har, I figured out it was Mistress Dragonfreel as soon as she said “We were quite a dynamic duo…back when the Noobs lurked these lands.” *nod nod* Very interesting, bringing back her character and representing her as an old woman. (^.^)

Still waiting to hear the N00bs' side of the story. =P Really good so far though. I like how this is progressing. =)

 

[Insincerus]

Psychic: Woops! I forgot it was Jewish New Year >.O Hehe, lol, I proof read it myself, so hopefully the mistakes I didn't spot don't come back to haunt me. How was Rosh Hashana? Very joyous and yummi-ful, hopefully ^_^ I too can't wait for the posting of the next chapter myself. It will include you-know-what ^.~

Dragonfree: Heh, Dragonfreel plays a major role throughout the fic. She is the wise teacher of all things anti-Noob, if you catch my drift. As for Scyther, I know precisely whatcha mean...I've been trying to pack more writing about Solomon (Noctowl) and Scyther, their personalities/behavior, though it is difficult to give them characteristics as Pokemon. Speech may come into play later, but I doubt it... Still, Scyther will [spoil]receive a heavy burden[/spoil] in the future.

Tale: *is showered in gratitude* @.@ Wooooaaa...lol, if you thought Serebeth was good, you should read my "Tainted Dreams." Ha, however, it is not for anyone's eyes but mine and my editor for now, so bruha. Anyway, thanks for the comments. Really lifts teh spirits of this poor kitty ;-;

lilbluecorsola: Ah, and I haven't forgotten, my reader. Don't fret, it will come in due time. In fact, what the role you and I talked about will also play a major role in the plot. I know I seem to be saying that everything plays a major role, but in factual truth, it does, lol. You'll just have to wait and see

*wipes forehead* Thanks for all the great replies! ^_^ I'll be writing the chapters further tonight, and doing a bit of editing on the "special" chapter Psychic knows about *winkwink* I'm not sure when I'll post the next chapter; hopefully the same day I post this message.

~Chesh

 

[Kamex]

I just finished Chapter 1 yesterday, so I'm gonna be a bit late with Chapter 2. I should get it finished by tomorrow, though.

Chapter 1 was very intriguing, and while I don't know yet (or have never known) the people behind the parodied (is that a word?) characters, the story is still great, and I'm sure I'll see people I notice.

For a while I read the story like it was just a story, then, looking back at what I read, I saw the parodies come to me like a flash of light. Like the fact that all these fires are flamings.

Sorry again that I'm not currently reviewing the second chapter, but I'll get to that tomorrow.

 

[Insincerus]

Heh, that's just fine, Blue. Actually, lol, you're going to be a bit behind, because I now have a ten-page long Chapter 3 to present:

Chapter 3: The Mew Saint​

“Mistress Dragonfreel,” James whined. “Why do I have to carry this rock?”

James Carroll was indeed heaving a large boulder around in his arms, with the backpack weighing down on his sliding black cloak. Solomon flew slowly next to Scyther as they trotted next to Dragonfreel, who was studying the stars and squinting in the distance.

“Because I think you’re a rotten child,” she said, not taking her wincing eyes off of the rolling hills.

“Ha-ha,” he forced, looking glumly at the rock. “You know, for a senile Noob slayer, you’ve still got it kicking.”

“Damn straight, ‘foo,’” she said, speaking like a grandmother desiring to be hip.

“Where’d you learn to speak like that?”

“Oh, ‘twas a far away land where everyone spoke as though they had speech impediments. Think it was called something called the ‘Leet Village.’ It’s just an innate habit for me to speak in the same lingo as another converser,” she said, laughing. It still didn’t explain why he was carrying the rock. “The rock is for building arm strength,” she said, reading his mind. “You can drop it as soon as we meet with this generation’s Mew Saint.”

“Say what?” James said, dropping the rock directly on top of his feet. “OW.”

“You heard me right. Mew Saint.”

“Isn’t it odd to you that you have allies with legendary Pokémon?” James said painfully, picking up the boulder again. “I mean, you just seem too natural about it!”

“First off,” Dragonfreel targeted. “Celebi can be summoned by anyone, but there are few who actually wish to seek its power past travails and tribulations, so it is not our ally, but merely a tool. Second of all, the Mew Saints were an official assembly of slayers that pledged themselves to purifying evil with holiness, who actually did ally the powers of the peace-seeking Mew, who had also pledged itself to follow orders of each Mew Saint’s generation, keeping themselves away from the public.” She saw that James was completely at awe.

“Oh, really,” she said groggily. “Legendary Pokémon are so overrated nowadays. It was only during times like these that some would come to help. Although Mew’s help is about the only consistent source of our doings that is legendary, Pokémon I consider to be true legendaries are the mighty Ho-oh, who would watch over the Earth, only to come the day when humans and Pokémon were to live harmoniously.”

“But actually setting eyes on Mew…the origin of all Pokémon…that is a sight I could never believe,” James said, baffled as they trudged up the side of an inclining hill. “There’s got to be a catch to having assistance from legends.”

“Oh, there is,” Dragonfreel said, muttering something to Scyther. “Mew does not stay with the saints continuously, but can be called upon by the Lament of Mew, a song played on flute that is only taught to Mew Saints. That, and when a Mew Saint has conceived a child, when that child comes of age, the parent’s memory is erased.”

“Harsh,” James said ironically as his arm muscles and tendons felt as if they were about to snap.

Solomon soared off into the black sky ahead of them, only to return on wings to swoop down and perch on James’ head, hooting contently.

“Yeah, you better be happy, you stuck-up bird.”

“CHEESE SCABBARD!” Dragonfreel yelled randomly.

“MANIPULATING MARMITE!” James imitated. Dragonfreel looked at him and shook her head quietly.

All at once, they felt the ground beneath them shivering. Then, as though a god had struck the earth with a sword, the ground shifted and shook violently. It caused Solomon to fly off of James’ head and Scyther to hover above the ground slightly with its humming wings. James dropped the stone on his feet again, and the rock tumbled down the hill as his curses were drowned by the roaring of the earth. They could see a prism rising from the ground, layered in soil and grass. When the rumbling had stopped, a cubic layer from the crust below them was sitting in front of them, with a door hinged into the front of it. James looked at it as if it was the world’s greatest oddity.

“Er…what is this?” he asked after an awkward silence, now not minding the stinging pain in his feet.

“This is Psychria the Mew Saint’s home,” the old woman said quite simply, sizing up the house-shaped earth before her in the pale moonlight, smugly. “I’d bet you fifty shillings that she’s been bouncing all over the place.”

“Okay,” James said, completely clueless. “What was ‘cheese scabbard’ for?”

“Didn’t you get it?” she asked. “And I thought you were bright… It’s the password for beholding the Mew Saint sanctuary! Pfft… ‘Manipulating marmite’ sure shows how you think.”

Dragonfreel then stepped toward the door of the earthly home, Scyther’s green figure right beside her, and rapped on the door with her white knuckles. Solomon came back to James and clawed himself to his master’s shoulder, tufts of its sienna feathers ruffling in the cold.

“God! Who is it?” a singsong, female voice boomed from inside, which startled James.

“It is me, Dragonfreel,” the old woman said, brushing her white hair with her fingers.

“OH!” the voice exclaimed. “I…I’ll be there in a moment, Mistress!”

They then heard a great thumping, and a cry of pain. After that, more thumping and tossing of metal pans was heard from inside, and by this time, a deranged look was written all across James’ youthful face. At last, the voice came again.

“Okay, I’m all set!” she cried.

Before opening the oak door, Dragonfreel leaned over to James: “She’s a bit of a flake around me, and quite young, but nonetheless, powerful.”

Dragonfreel gripped the handle of the door tightly, and with no haste, pushed it inwards to the nook inside. When the door opened, James had half-expected the entire place to be made completely out of rocks and sand. The two humans and their bird and insect Pokémon entered the warmth within, and when they shut the door behind them, the house began to sink once more into the ground, melding as another regular part of the Earth.

Inside was a cozy den-like study. It was also fairly large for what that great cube could hold, and James saw that it even had a fireplace. The overall perspective of it seemed to come out of a mystery novel, as it had very settling gothic features about it. Bookshelves lined one of the walls, packed with volumes of information to last one a lifetime of reading. Near the fireplace were three, red leather chairs made from the finest Tauros hides, studded with gold armrests. In the corner of the room was a coal stove, with cabinets filled with pickled and jarred foods above it. An elm table with legs carved in the shapes of lions stood in the opposite corner, and adjacent to it was a rich bed of scarlet and polished ash wood. All around the room, the planked walls were tacked with all sorts of black and white sketches, photo graphs, and paintings, many of which James identified the portraits to be of the cat-like Pokémon, Mew.

Scyther and Solomon immediately walked to the bed, where sitting on it was a girl about two years older than James. The girl rubbed them each on the head lovingly. She had pale skin and fair, blonde hair, with a tinge of elegance and luminosity about her. She wore a robe of faded white, with a small hint of pink. She smiled as brightly as the moon, and stood up to their presence. The fire in the room crackled and flared.

“Oh, Mistress! It’s so good to see you again!” she said in a lovely tone, walking up to the old woman with her arms outstretched.

“Don’t touch me,” Dragonfreel growled. “You touch me, and unicorns will die.”

“Silly Mistress,” the girl said in a deepened voice. “You know that only scared me when I was six. You know I’m a grown girl now.”

They both looked at each other, and suddenly burst into laughter as they embraced each other fondly. James had become accustomed to odd behavior, so he simply stood there and watched, waiting to be introduced. He cleared his throat, and Dragonfreel winced.

“This is James Carroll,” Dragonfreel pointed at him. “He’s stalking me.”

“Am not!” James cried.

“Only joking. Anyway, this boy came from Serebeth, Psychria. And as you might wonder, he has also knowledge from me about what is coming.”

Psychria put her sparkling blue eyes on him, studying him. It was then James realized that her eye was swiveling around in many directions at once. He felt a little strange being near her, but his nervousness died away shortly. She stopped studying him and pursed her lips.

“Serebeth,” she said faintly. “So you aren’t here on social occasion, then?”

“Why else would we be here?” Dragonfreel said as she walked over to the fire and took a seat into one of the fit-for-royalty chairs. Psychria went and sat in the middle chair next to the mistress, and James soon followed by taking the seat closest to the door. Scyther and Solomon both hopped onto the bed, and seemingly began talking to each other in silence.

“May we just chat a bit before getting on with business?” the girl pleaded softly.

“I suppose,” Dragonfreel sighed. “A little communism never killed anyone.”

“Well, actually,” James began.

“Not that kind, you fool,” she snarled, gazing into the fire with her silver eyes. James avoided her gaze from then on.

“Anyway,” Psychria breathed, turning to James. “So, James, tell us more about you. I’m sure the mistress hasn’t personally asked.”

Dragonfreel lifted an eyebrow, and looked at both her and James.

“She is a bit cold at first,” Psychria laughed. “But she’ll warm up to you.”

“So they say,” Dragonfreel replied, searching the fire endlessly.

“Well, it’s a long story,” James said. “And it’s not quite as happy as most…are you sure you’d like to hear it?”

“Oh, yes,” Psychria said coolly. “Don’t be ashamed of the truth or the past, for it is what makes you an individual.”

“All right… When I was little, my mother, Helena, told me that I was born in a cottage on the Emerald Hills near the village of Serebeth. She was my everything…I didn’t have any friends in the village. You could say that I was…different.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I suppose…but none of them wanted to play with me. I took interest in things no others would, and saw a different light. My mother didn’t care that I was different, though. She told me to embrace my own personal traits, for that’s what made me special. Then…”

He swallowed, glancing lowly at the floor with a saddened head.

“She came down with rheumatic fever. She told me…she told me that her heart was different. She said it still loved me with its wholeness, but it was sad. And I really believed her heart was sad…I tried helping her as much as I could, and one day, she collapsed. We nursed her back to health, but…she said that she wouldn’t last much longer.”

Dragonfreel continued to gawk at the fire, but her eyes became depressed, and were felt with a deep regret. Psychria’s face was paler than it was before, and a look of concern riddled it. James sighed.

“We lived in that cottage for a little while, the village doctor coming up to check on us everyday. I remember it…it was a sunny morning, and the sun was shining…it seemed nothing could go wrong. I was right there beside her, and she was telling me stories about far away kingdoms and legendary Pokémon when…she went into a sort of shaking. I called her name, but she never answered. She died that morning,” he said mournfully, now burying his lost eyes into the fire. “And I wept for days.”

“What happened after that?” Psychria ventured.

“Her funeral,” he replied. “We placed her tomb in the Serebeth cemetery, along with hundreds of the other headstones. They placed a stone angel on her grave, as the whole town contributed to it. They all knew and loved her. The doctor even gave me a Hoothoot out of sympathy. At first, I didn’t like that he hobbled on one foot constantly, and wish he could fly…I wish I could fly…to get away from Serebeth and my mother’s sad memory. When I was ten, it evolved in a Noctowl, and from then on, we’ve been great companions.

“Solomon didn’t know how to fly then, and it was very difficult for him to learn. I tried teaching him around the hills. I would run down the hill while he scuffled quickly at the ground,” he laughed. “I would flap my arms up and down. It took him a while, but eventually, his strength and my training paid off, and he was able to fly off into the night, looking for food to take care of himself. By that time, the evil witch came to stay with us.”

“A witch?” Psychria exclaimed. “What sort of person would make you live with a witch?”

“Well, she wasn’t a real witch,” James said, watching Solomon rub Scyther’s blade with his wing, as though the bug Pokémon were showing it off. “She was my grandmother’s sister, who I had never met. Her ugly name was Bertie Campbell…everyone hated her.”

Psychria gave an astonished look at Dragonfreel, and the mistress knew she had her eyes on her. The old woman turned in her seat to James, and looked at him solemnly.

“Your great-aunt was a Noob,” she said to him. “A true worshipper of the Noob cult, she was. No one had proof on her that she was a Noob, and that was why we all despised her. She was rich, and powerful…she could usually get out of any situation.”

“But why did she come to stay with me?” James asked. “If she was so rich and stuck-up, you think she’d go and buy herself a palace!”

“I have reason to believe Bertie knew that she was dying, and so she called upon her Noob allies to set the house on fire,” Dragonfreel said. “How else could the Noobs have known that the perfect opportunity to blame their work on had come knocking?”

“That makes a lot of sense,” Psychria said. “The punishment for crime these days, as they were in the past, are much too cruel that even citizens themselves fear to go out in public. If only someone had the courage to stand against the laws of our ancestors, then none of this would ever happen.”

“That is a side quest we may consider,” Dragonfreel said, putting a finger to her chin. “But for now, we must begin the Quest of Purification.”

“Wait,” Psychria said, stunned. “You…you’re actually going to do it? And…you want MY help?”

“Yes we do,” Dragonfreel agreed, looking promisingly at James. “And I believe that together, we can do extraordinary things.”

“Oh, goody gumdrops!” Psychria exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and beginning to do a small victory dance, whispering to herself: “I’m going on a que-est, I’m going on a que-est…”

Dragonfreel shook her head, smiling, and the old woman wandered over to the bed, where the Pokémon were interacting. James followed her as Psychria moved about the room, searching for something frantically. Solomon and Scyther stood side by side, watching Psychria move about quickly, gathering things.

“You do know you will require much Pokémon training, yes?” Dragonfreel pointed out, rubbing Solomon’s silky feathers on its head. “We face perils ahead that few dare to oppress, and your Pokémon are much more important than any other tool, or friend we possess.”

“I’m willing to take up training,” he said cheerfully, sitting next to Scyther, who had actually taken a liking to him.

“We begin tomorrow on the road, most likely in the evenings. This journey will take quite a long time,” she said, looking to Psychria, who was not bothering to look at them. “We may stay here tonight if it is all right with our Mew Saint.”

“Oh, fine by me,” Psychria replied, her voice muffled as she tore through boxes behind the bookshelf. “Now, where did I put it…?”

“Say, Psychria,” James addressed. “If you are a Mew Saint, can you summon Mew for us?”

“AHA!” she shouted, pulling out a polished object. “Of course I can. It’s not usually for amusement, but as I wanted to call Mew anyway, I might as well show you.”

The girl walked over next to the mistress and the boy with a tiny, white flute in her hand. Before putting it to her mouth, she added, “These flutes are made only by the crafters of the Mew Saints. They cannot be reproduced, and this song I am about to play is only taught to my kind.”

“What is to happen if your flute or music falls into the wrong hands?” James asked.

Psychria hesitated, her mystical eye rotating about, and then she said: “It has never happened, but we vowed that if anyone were to call upon Mew with the music that is not a member of the Saints, Mew’s power leaves us, and we can no longer call it for assistance again.”

Without further delay, Psychria pressed the eagle-like bone flute to her lips. Scyther and Solomon quieted down, resting beside one another, while Dragonfreel listened and waited. As she blew air into the flute, a long, smooth tune flowed from it like a wisp of smoke. She continued playing the tune, and before long, began fingering the holes of it in complicated patterns. The melody that escaped was a requiem of some sort, for it was deeply saddening. The depressing tunes it created, however, seemed to shed a light in the center of it, and near the end of the entire song, a prosperous tranquility sounded. It made James forget all the worries he had, as if it had cleansed him of his mother’s death, and wiped away all of his dried tears.

Before any being in that room could react to the magnificent flute song, a wisp of cold wind whipped through the walls. It startled James, for as they were underground, no gust was supposed to penetrate through. The wind wound across the fire, causing it to flicker and die, and twisted its path near the bookshelves, sending some pages fluttering and the shelves themselves rocking. It passed around to the bed, where they were all seated, and began a most curious transformation. The wind quickly took the miniature form of a wrapping tornado, funneling about elegantly. The funnel began to collapse, and it was soon being forced to invert itself into nothingness. Scyther stared proudly at the glimmer of shimmering, holy light billowing skirts of beautiful radiance from the center of where the funnel had closed. Then, in a shower of bright sparks, a creature appeared, a heavy pink aura glowing around its fur divinely. The showering display of gorgeous, magical splendor faded slowly to reveal what had arrived, but a cat-like Pokémon, with rabbit feet that were perfect for padding along ground, a pair of sapphire eyes that glistened in a glaze of happiness, small stubs for ears, and a thin, whip-like tail that ended in an oval shape. Its white-pink fur looked feathery like the down of a most luxurious cat, and the presence of it made all of them stare it with awe and spirituality.

“Mew,” it purred, in a soft, comforting tone of voice that scraped a high note with grace and pleasance.

James and Solomon were utterly stunned; one of them had dropped their jaw, and the other’s pupils grew to the size of large grapes. Dragonfreel chuckled delightfully at their rejoinder, and smiled at Mew. Scyther crawled its way over to Psychria as Mew floated from its levitating stance in front of them, and cuddled up warmly in her arms like a soft, attractive infant waiting for its mother’s touch, meowing cutely. James’ immediate thoughts of the legendary Pokémon struck him with holiness, serenity, and utter peace. It was so adorable just lying there in the Mew Saint’s arms, rubbing against her as Scyther watched with excitement.

“This,” Psychria said, as she pet the glorious cat Pokémon in a nurturing way, “is Mew, the origin, the mother, and the guardian of Pokémon everywhere.”

James licked his lips, and laid his youthful eyes on the endearing Pokémon. It returned his gaze with sweet, azure eyes and a quiet meow. Dragonfreel rested against the bed, and Scyther left Psychria’s side to his master, who wrapped her arm around the bug Pokémon’s shoulder as though it were a dear friend. Solomon hopped, hooting eagerly as it hobbled next to James, watching Mew lick its tiny, little paws. Its tail lifted and fell continuously, and there was nothing else to catch their attention. Psychria could not ignore their amazement, so she smiled to him.

“Would you like to pet it?” she asked.

“Please, thank you!” James cried out, laughing happily at her inquiry. Psychria laughed, and lifted her arms into the air so James could reach in her lap and feel Mew. Solomon had great interest in Mew, but it was not bothered to pester the legend, so it clawed its way across the bed to Dragonfreel, and nested on the bed next to Scyther. James took a swallow, and reached his arm across to Mew. Mew curled back a little as a response, but when it noticed he was harmless, warmly allowed him to touch its silky, white fur. James’ fingers felt as though they had been to heaven as he moved them across the Pokémon’s side. Mew purred dreamily, and closed its large eyes. It softly began breathing slowly as James lifted his hand away cautiously, and within a few moments, closed its eyes and drifted off into a sweet sleep. The fire crackle seemed to come alive once more, and James’ mind was in a bustle as the legend slept.

“It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen,” James whispered to Psychria, as Dragonfreel too seemed to look sleepy. “Why is it sleeping? I mean…it just got here.”

“Well,” Psychria whispered, “The song I played to summon Mew drained it of its energy. It needs some rest before we go anywhere.”

Dragonfreel, as they realized, had fallen against the bed, snoring loudly on the bed with the owl and bug Pokémon snuggled up to her cloaked form, all of them with their eyes shut. Psychria giggled quietly as the mistress made interesting peeping noises as she snored. James let out a small laugh as well, but his face was troubled.

“What’s wrong, friend?” she asked, stroking Mew caressingly.

“I just wondered what’s going to happen…on this quest,” he said, lifting his hand to the back of his head, swinging his ponytail back and forth. “Mistress Dragonfreel explained what the Noobs were to me, and that a horrible plague is about to unfold, but this quest brings up questions in my head.”

“What do you want to know?” she offered. “The Mew Saints have always had a hand in the fight against the Noobs. I’ve studied all there is to know about the last Quest of Purification, and I should be able to relay some answers to you.”

“All right,” he sighed, looking at Mew’s raising chest. “How was the mistress involved with it?”

“A long time ago,” Psychria started, “the mistress knew what wrong she had done for Serebeth, and sought for a new way of life from being an administrator under the demolished rule of Joseph Celenburg. My Mew Saint descendent, Elizabeth, answered her call, and brought her into a world where she could seek vengeance against the Noobs, and…a part of herself.”

Psychria got up from the bed, laying Mew back onto it brightly as she made her way to the cupboards. There, she lifted a jar of clear liquid that fogged the glass container. She came back to James’ side, and sat on the floor against the bed, drinking the cold beverage from the jar.

“We could not allow her to join the Mew Saints according to our tradition, but she decided upon leading a slightly darker path as a slayer. I myself don’t quite enjoy being called a saint,” she added, smiling devilishly. “In fact, I’ve known to be a bit naughty when it comes to how I deal with Noobs and foul creatures galore.”

James did not reply to this, uncomfortable as he was, and just waited for her to talk more about the subject. Psychria took another drink of the liquid, and rambled off again.

“She, Elizabeth, warriors, hunters, and slayers all across the land joined forces to pursue an ancient lore of the Quest of Purification. Only she, Elizabeth, and a few minor warriors who soon became heroes managed to survive the quest, and obtained Celebi’s distilling power, though it had taken a few decades,” she swallowed more of the drink bitterly, her wandering eye wavering and her facial expression becoming grim. “Elizabeth was my grandmother. She was the eldest member of the Mew Saints, and was hunted down by the Noobs after the quest, and showed no mercy in incinerating her body to ashes.”

“I’m…so sorry,” was all James could offer. She sighed.

“Don’t be. It’s not as if it was your fault…it happened nearly sixty years ago…” she said, drinking again. “Mew, sadly, was not there in her time of need, and had not been called upon by the flute. That is the only reason why she came to fall, I think. Otherwise, she would have had a round with those pestilent, rotting piles of disgusting vermin. I couldn’t believe there were actually attorneys who represented them in court…

“Come now,” she said, gesturing over to the fireplace. “I’ll make you a bed, and in the morning, we’ll start our path to the Gardens of Tenindo. It’s another village not too far from these hills, and along the way, I’m sure we’ll be teaching you new things.”

“But what about the path that lies ahead of us?” James brought up, stopping Psychria from entering the den area with hesitance. The fire seemed to hiss unnaturally in the awkward silence that followed.

“The path ahead of us is dark and clouded,” she said, keeping her white-cloaked back to him. “It is also bloody, treacherous, and most deceiving. Trust not what your eyes see, but what you feel in your mind and heart. That is the only way to happiness, and in our case, to Celebi’s power. Night has come, and if we don’t get adequate rest, it will have come to pass. Come, now.”

For the remaining hours in that evening, they tossed a large, wool blanket over Dragonfreel, Solomon, Scyther, and Mew sleeping blissfully on the bed, and they had both made their own arrangement of blankets on the floor next to the balmy and roaring fireplace. There, Psychria and James slept in their clothes in separate heaps on the contoured sheets on top of the wooden floor, and with all of the thoughts on their minds, and the flute tucked away snugly in Psychria’s robes, they fell asleep, wondering what would be in store for them in the future.

 

[Dragonfree]

XDDD Leet village... that had me giggling all the way through.

Dragonfreel is cool. And so is Psychria in a different way. Loved her "I'm going on a que-est" thing. x3 Nice chapter overall, although the scene with Mew appearing seemed a little bit overdescribed. I notice you're updating very fast...

 

[Insincerus]

That I did...got done with the chapter sooner than I had planned ^^;;

I do think I sorta outdid myself with Mew, but I always do that when it comes to describing legendaries because I want the reader to realize how special they are. Oy, you should've seen how I described Ho-oh in one of Psychic's RPGs @.@

Funny thing, I added the Leet Village as a final edit of that chapter, not really thinking about it XD Character development from here on out will be important to me, as I believe we need to get to know the Pokemon, James, and Psychria better in future chapters. I'm sure you all realized how Dragonfreel's mind works

EDIT: God, that post was much too peppy >.O

 

[lilbluecorsola]

*does a victory dance* "Oh, goody gumdrops! I’m going to have a major ro-ole, I’m going to have a major ro-ole…”

*cough*

Hm, this Psychria character is interesting. I'm trying to determine who she represents. I like how she's all bubbly and cheerful compared to the others. (^.^)

Hm, I caught a bit of foreshadowing. (^.~) Ke ke ke...

And jeez, you write way too fast. o__O;;; Are you going to post a chapter a day?