TEEN: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo) *Chapter 5 up*

[AetherX]

Hey everyone! I've been awfully busy lately, but SuBuWriMo looked too tempting to pass up. I'm going for 50k words, but we'll see.

EDIT: JK 10k words now.

EDIT EDIT: SuBuWriMo's over now, but I got my 10,502 words in. I'll finish the story, but that's all she wrote as far as the contest goes (see what I did there? Only... I'm not a she...)

I don't know how long this fic is going to be, as I honestly have no idea where I'm going to go with it. I just wanted to write something, and this idea came to mind. I'm actually writing it all on the fly, so bear with me if the story is a little choppy. It's a little different from other Pokemon fics, and to be quite honest it wasn't originally going to have Pokemon in it. I just realized when I started writing that they fit in perfectly. I'll shut up now and get on with the story.

Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - Hammer Fall (below)
Chapter 2 - Legacy
Chapter 3 - Stranger in a Strange Land
Chapter 4 - Worth of Life
Chapter 5 - Another Point of View

* * * * *

Chapter 1:
Hammer Fall​

Spoiler

Clunk.

Clunk.

Clunk.

For the fourth time, I picked up my trusted hammer by its leather-bound handle and idly let it slip through my fingers until it bounced off of the cobblestone floor.

Clunk.

But for the fourth time, it failed to get the other sound out of my ears. A sickening crunch that had haunted me for the past several weeks. I picked up my hammer again.

Clunk.

I shifted on the wooden bench. It wasn’t really my fault, after all. He slipped. It was meant to be a debilitating blow to the shoulder. Instead, my favored weapon had smashed his skull to a pulp. It was his fault that his helmet had no face guard. I bet he was one of those pompous puritans that insisted a full suit of armor was “limiting”. I hated those people. I probably would have killed him anyway. But do I know that? I never decide before the exact moment. No one does.

Again the image and sound of the man with the yellow armor having his face smashed in tore through my imagination.

“NO!” I yelled, leaping from my seat and heaving my hammer at the stone wall. The noise and sudden movement made Metagross in the corner shift uneasily. As I walked over to retrieve the hammer, the Pokémon let out a soothing growl. I paused for a second, examining the damage I had done to the wall, and sighed.

“You’re right,” I said. “I need to let go. We should be focusing on this battle. We’re on soon, are you ready?”

The steely beast growled an affirmative and bobbed up and down, though his clawed feet never moved off of the floor.

Slipping my hammer into its leather loop on my belt, I gazed at the creature. Most fighters treat their Pokémon as no more than battle partners. But I was different; I shared something more with Metagross. He had saved my life too many times to be ignored. The two of us sat in quiet introspection until we were interrupted by a blinding light from the door.

“Matthan?” a disembodied male voice floated through the doorway. I shielded my eyes until they adjusted, I still had no idea why they made us wait in such dark dungeons. “Follow me to the arena.”

One more time, I checked the straps of my armor to be sure it was fitting properly, and then pulled my helmet onto my head. Hefting my round shield onto my back, I sucked in a deep breath; the familiar metallic smell of the inside of the helmet was reassuring in a way. “Lead on,” I told the man, and stepped out into the corridor. Metagross stomped behind me. The hall was a stone affair, similar to the room, but brightly lit with chandeliers and torches. The man in front of me was dressed like a noble, but obviously didn’t have a drop of royal blood in his veins. He stood slightly hunched, his scrappy beard and arrogant expression contrasting with his extravagant clothes.

We followed our guide along the gently curving hallway until we came to a large metal door. If my sense of direction was anything to go by, this was the west entrance. I smiled, that meant the sun would be in my opponent’s eyes, assuming that it hadn’t yet set behind the walls of the coliseum.

Without a word, the brightly dressed man pulled the door open and gestured outside, where the sun shone dully on the gray dirt. At the far end of the arena, I could see that the eastern door had been opened as well. Somewhere in the shadows behind the doorway lurked my next opponent. Adjusting my shield from my back to my arm, I stepped out into the gaze of the roaring crowd with Metagross stomping along behind me. The cheering seemed to get even louder, echoing in my helmet and turning into a deafening rumble in my ears.

I took eight steps forward, as was the custom, and watched my opponent do the same at the other side of the arena. Metagross gave a loud huff behind me as our adversary’s Pokémon was revealed to be a violent-looking Scyther.

As was also custom, the other fighter’s armor matched his Pokémon. Dull green segments plated his chest, while light brown leather left his arms free to swing his weapon, or rather weapons, of choice, two long, silver knives. A spiked helmet of similar color to his chest plates covered his entire face and head. I gave an unnoticeable sigh of relief at that, and then shook my head to clear my thoughts. No, I had to be ready to kill this man, as he was surely ready to do the same to me.

Silently, I hoped that my own armor was having the same intimidating effect on him. My segmented, pale blue plates covered nearly my entire body. A silver ‘X’ decorated my chest, shield, and helmet. At the center of the shield’s ‘X’ was a deadly spike.

I cautiously grasped a hand around my hammer and pulled it from its loop. It was a heavy weapon, one that proved too heavy for most warriors. That’s why I liked it so much. Plus, it requires little finesse. No fancy twirling or parrying is necessary when you can smash a man’s chest in a single blow.

Or his face. I shuddered.

The two of us stood staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity before the resonating gongs of a massive bell echoed over the din of the crowd. Then, the battle was on.

As was my usual strategy, I waited for him to make the first move. Let him decide the terms of our battle, I could deal with anything. Like most fighters do, he targeted me with his first blow, while his Scyther dashed at Metagross, light on its wings.

He rules of a battle are simple. Two warriors, each with their own Pokémon, face off in a flat circular or rectangular arena. There is no rule about who fights who, but the common approach is for the humans to duel while the Pokémon battle separately. Occasionally, the partners will help each other out, but for the most part, the two battles don’t interfere with each other. It’s all over when both the warrior and his Pokémon are incapacitated through either injury or disarmament. Then the victor gets to make the ultimate decision: whether or not to finish off his rival.

I took a step forward to meet the swing of my assailant’s short sword, letting the blade glance off of my shield. His weapons were curved, and therefore only useful in slashing, not stabbing. I could use that to my advantage.

I swung my hammer around heavily, slamming it into the side of his chest as hard as I could. The man winced, but did not hesitate to take another shot at chopping off my arm, this time with the other sword. Deftly flipping my hammer around in my hand, I let the blade hit it on the head.

Now that I had blocked blows from both of his weapons, the man’s stance was wide open. With a yell of effort, I lifted a heavily armored leg and planted it in his stomach, shoving him hard backwards. He stumbled once, and caught himself on his knee. Pressing my advantage, I led with my shield and swung my hammer down with all of my strength. But rather than taking another strike at me, like I had expected him to do, he rolled expertly out of the way. My weight carried me forward as my hammer slammed into the ground where he had been. Off balance, I pivoted on the hammer just in time to catch a double blow of my opponent’s swords in my shield.

To the side, I saw Metagross rearing back on its hind legs, pummeling the Scyther with a rapid fire assault of its clawed arms. I paid for getting distracted by catching the next double blow right across my back. It failed to slip through my armor, but still hurt incredibly. I cried out and fell forward, spinning so that I would land face up. This proved to be a good choice.

My adversary was following up with two more swings, his left hand blade leading while his right hand one windmilled over top. Out of reflex, I easily brushed the first sword out of the way with my hammer, but was forced to kick him in the stomach again so that the second blade wouldn’t get me.

The kick knocked him far enough away that I could get back on me feet, but gave me little time to recover more than that. He came at me again, his two swords spinning aggressively. I set myself in a ready stance, with my shield in front and my hammer above my head. It was a brief second of rest before the battle continued.

Our fight raged on for what felt like an hour. Each swing became slower, my helmet filled with the stench of sweat, and my hammer felt like a dead weight in my hand. My muscles were beginning to shake, and my breath came in gasps. Metagross seemed to be gaining the upper hand in his battle, but the green warrior and I were at a stalemate.

Any benefit I gained from having a heavier weapon had been lost ten minutes into the fight. I was simply too tired now. But besides the layer of dirt that had accumulated on his once shiny armor, my opponent seemed unaffected. Perhaps it had something to do with his light armor and weapons, but he continued to fight like a machine. That’s all he was to me, an inhuman being that had no purpose other than to beat me.

As we pulled out of yet another flurry of blows, I heard a sound that I had dreaded hearing since I started battling. The high pitched screech of metal tearing followed immediately by a roar of pain. My head whipped about. Metagross was on his back, his legs flailing in the air. A giant gash, oozing some clear fluid, was rent across the bottom of his body.

“No…” I whispered. We weren’t beaten yet, but as soon as one partner went down, the other was always soon to follow.

Refusing to be taken advantage of, I whipped back around to face the surely oncoming blow. But I was a second too late. Rather than blocking the blade of my opponent’s sword with the leather handle of my hammer like I had meant to, I caught it on my hand. The weapon dug between the joints of my gauntlets and easily split the leather gloves beneath. Instants later, I felt the cold steel of the blade separating the knuckle and index finger of my right hand.

Blood spilled from the wound, contrasting strangely with my blue armor. I let out a brief cry of surprise and dropped the hammer before I realized what had happened. The green warrior continued his assault, hitting me hard in the shoulder with the hilt of his other sword. I collapsed to my knees and gave out another gasp of pain, still staring in awe at the stump of my finger. My shield slowly slid off of my uninjured arm.

Everything seemed to snap back in place. The trance I had been in while battling was lifted, and the pain and tiredness that had plagued me throughout the fight hit me in full force. The cheering of the crowd reemerged as more than the white noise that it had become.

Gently, the winner of our battle placed the tip of a sword under my chin and lifted it slightly. Our eyes locked through the slits in our helmets. Am I going to die now? Was all I could think. The beady black eyes of my opponent showed no sign of an answer. He was cold, emotionless. The perfect warrior.

Suddenly, he raised his other hand and pulled the helmet from his face. With that simple gesture he was human again. I looked upon a man younger than me, with tussled black hair that matched his eyes, which were not as emotionless as they had seemed before. They were full of a wise understanding far beyond their years. Thin lips twitched slightly as he continued to stare at me. His face was covered in sweat, and he was actually breathing as hard as I was. He was human, after all.

Without a word, the sword dropped from my chin. He stowed both his weapons away in their sheaths and offered me an armored hand. I was to live.

Shakily, I grasped his hand in my uninjured one and let him lift me to my feet. This was much to the dismay of the crowd. Cheering became rampant booing. Letting your opponent live was rarely a popular choice. I had been fairly successful in my career so far, but I was no crowd favorite. Not yet.

I took my own helmet off, still maintaining eye contact. In a soft voice, just loud enough so that I could hear him over the crowd, he answered my unasked question. “I always let them live.”

As Metagross and I were escorted off of the field and into the infirmary, I contemplated his remark. Always? Surely not. I had been in seven battles before this. I had lost two and won five. Not counting the man I had killed accidentally, I had let only two of my defeated opponents live. I had no idea why I made the decision. Sometimes it just seemed right, it was all in the heat of the moment.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts as the doctor bandaged my hand. If I started thinking about stuff like that, it would interfere with my fighting. It wasn’t important. Winning was important.

* * * * *

Chapter word count: 2,332
Total: 2,332

 

[AetherX]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo)

This should give a satisfying amount of background.

* * * * *​

Chapter 2:​

Legacy
​

Spoiler

To be a champion. It’s something we all aspire to at a young age. Ask any young boy what they want to do with their lives and they will proudly answer “battle!” When they reach the appropriate age of seventeen, they begin to look for a master battler willing to take them on as an apprentice. Few of them will ever find one. Of those few, even less make it through the intensive training process. In the end, almost every boy will end up apprenticed to their father.

But if you can stand the training, the rewards are great. One year before, I had decided that I was ready to battle on my own. The graduation test, as it is, is no mean feat. You must challenge your own master.

I was an arrogant lad, and figured I would have no trouble overpowering my aging teacher. I was wrong. After nearly an hour of fighting, the evolution of Metang was not enough to beat his experienced Metagross (for the mentor’s Pokémon is almost always the same as that of the mentee). My own reckless fighting was also not enough to outdo my strategic master. He bested me in the end, and I figured it was all over. For the rules of a battle between master and apprentice are no different than any other. But my fears were for naught, my master believed me worthy despite my defeat, and let me live. I inherited both his armor and his hammer for my own. Ironic how the day of my worst defeat was also the greatest day of my life. I was ready to embark upon the road to championship.

One month later, I participated in my first real coliseum battle. I remember it clearly. I faced a blade wielding Gallade owner in silver and green armor. He had been in two more battles than me, and had won both, according to the records. But I beat him and killed him, proving my resolve and earning the respect of the crowd. I have no regrets about that one.

It takes anywhere from one to two months to recover from a fight and get a chance to participate in another one. I was lucky that I had the chance to battle as often as I did. My career had its ups and downs, but I was gaining ground.

I was lying awake in a bed above the tavern, contemplating my history and the events of the day. My hand throbbed painfully in its bandage. The finger that was no longer there itched furiously. An itch that I could never scratch. Still, it was better than death.

I contemplated silently. If the green warrior had decided to take my life that day, what would my legacy be? A mediocre battler that was lucky his master died before seeing how horribly his student had fared. I would be forgotten to everyone but my small family and perhaps a most astute statistician.

It turned out that the Scyther owner had little experience in battling. The records showed that he had only fought in three battles before, but won each.

So here I was, on my third loss. My first came from a master and the third from a rookie.

My second loss ever had occurred in the battle before I killed the yellow-armored man. My conqueror fought alongside a massive Kingler, and wore blood red armor. Throughout the battle, I thought he was insane. He tossed about his giant axe like it weighed nothing and laughed the entire time. I still don’t understand how he did it. I’m always out of breath when I fight, I can’t imagine letting out deep booming laughter like he did.

It was actually his Kingler that knocked me out. That was another thing, he fought so strangely. At first, we were dueling face to face, and then he would switch places with his Kingler and fight Metagross for a while. I was baffled, completely and totally confused. His Pokémon eventually caught me across the back of my head with a swing of his mighty claw. I woke up to see the man towering over me, with his axe at the ready, still laughing maniacally. I thought I was dead for sure.

But rather than beheading me, he helped me to my feet and offered to buy me a drink. Still a little dazed, I accepted, which led to one of the most interesting conversations of my life.

His name was Armand, and he had spent the last twenty years of his life battling. But the odd thing was, he only did three battles per year. He spent the rest of the time traveling and training. He was completely undefeated, even by his old master, but hadn’t participated actively enough to proceed any farther along the trail to championship. It is require that you win eight battles over the course of one year in order to participate in the Tournament of Champions. Even if you won all of your battles, it is a difficult feat to fit that many into a single year.

Armand entertained me and the rest of the tavern for many hours with stories of his travels. He began with hilarious tales such as the time he stumbled across a nest of angry Pinsir, but as the evening wore on into night, his stories darkened like the cloudy sky. He told how he and his Kingler had slain a rampaging Gyarados after it tore apart two Royal Navy galleons.

The fire began to die and many revelers struck out for home, their minds broadened by stories of the wild. But they didn’t know the half of it. When only five or six people remained, Armand finally got up to leave. I had planned to stay and drown myself in despair at losing a battle, but he insisted that I walk with him for a while. I agreed and we retrieved our Pokémon from the pens outside.

It was a tranquil night, cool but not cold. Clouds covered much of the starry sky but left a gap for the full silver moon to shine through. Wild Rattata and Sentret scampered about in the dark, chittering at us for intruding upon their territory. Besides them, the night was quiet. Most people had fallen asleep long ago. In a way, I envied them. It had been a long day with a tiring battle. I was sore and ready for a long, restful night of sleep. I gave a loud yawn.

As the four of us, people and Pokémon, strolled along the dirt roads of the town, Armand gazed up at the bright moon. “I had children, you know,” he said, “a son and a daughter.”

I noticed that he talked as if it had happened in the past. Silently, I put two and two together then spoke. “And I remind you of your son.”

He let out that booming laugh of his. “Yes, lad, you do. You’re a mite older than he was, but an old man has to learn to take what joys life gives him.”

“Your son is dead then.”

“Several years ago, now. I came home after being away for weeks at a battle in the city to find my home destroyed, my wife’s body in the wreckage, and rumors of a man in silver armor looking for an apprentice.”

“So you know not if he is dead?” I said, looking at him inquisitively.

“My children are gone and I have no way of finding them. I see little difference between that and death.”

I halfheartedly kicked a stone under the wooden porch of a house as we passed by. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just take my advice.” Armand placed a hand on my shoulder and halted me. “If you ever find what you are looking for, hold onto it with your life.”

With that he stalked away into the darkness, his giant Kingler by his side. He left me with a single question burning fervently on my mind.

What was I looking for?

* * * * *

Chapter word count: 1,346
Total: 3,678

 

[sharktooth162]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo)

This is so cool. A pokemon bloodsport is always something i've tried to write but I never pulled it off. I cant wait to see how this goes and I love the personalised armor. on a side note liking the banner, very flash.

 

[Pseudonym]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo)

I find this to be great; it's good to see some interactions between humans and Pokemon during a battle, although maybe it is a little too harsh to have the possibility to KILL your opponent after the match? Anyhow, please keep it up. I'm hooked.

 

[AetherX]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo)

This is so cool. A pokemon bloodsport is always something i've tried to write but I never pulled it off. I cant wait to see how this goes and I love the personalised armor. on a side note liking the banner, very flash.

Glad you like it!

I find this to be great; it's good to see some interactions between humans and Pokemon during a battle, although maybe it is a little too harsh to have the possibility to KILL your opponent after the match? Anyhow, please keep it up. I'm hooked.

Thanks for reading! Well, that's a pretty significant part of the story. One of the "morals" if you will. I'll go over it more in chapter four.

Sorry to keep you all waiting! I've been really busy lately, what with final projects, exams, parties, music, saying goodbye to my foreign exchange student friends, and trying to find time to spend with my girl. It's been a long month, but I have two days to finish this. I'm aiming for 10,000 words and the end of the story, but I don't know if that will happen. Believe in the heart of the cards or what have you! Prepare for a chapter blitz tomorrow (or today, depending on where you're at). This one's pretty half-assed to be quite honest. I didn't get much time to revise it, and it was super rushed. But you're gonna have to deal with it.

Warning: This chapter contains the killing and eating of Pokemon. If that bugs you, then don't read it.

* * * * *​

Chapter 3:​

Stranger in a Strange Land
​

Spoiler

Crowds never appreciate the return of a defeated warrior. If it was up to the masses, each battle would end in an execution. For that reason, I decided it would probably be best if I left for the next town rather than wait for the arena to open again.

Metagross and I strode slowly through the streets, my armor in a pack on my back, looking for the Battler’s Guild building. Inside we would find maps, information, and hopefully enough supplies to last us to the nearest city with an arena. I had visited the town’s Guild when we had first arrived two weeks before, but I spent more time training than walking around and so had forgotten the way.

A light rain fell from the dreary gray sky and pattered softly on the cobblestone road. As Metagross and I edged to the side of the street to make room for a man leading a rather rotund Miltank, I looked upwards and sighed. My bandaged hand still throbbed painfully, but the bleeding had stopped. At least, I thought it did. Wielding my hammer would feel strange without an index finger, but I was sure that I could figure it out. After all, I would have plenty of time for training as I traveled.

It was almost noon when a friendly trader finally managed to point me towards the Guild building. The rain had ceased, but it was replaced by an increasingly ferocious wind.

Leaving Metagross at the pens outside, I stepped into the building. As were most of the other Guild buildings I had been in, this one looked to be a repurposed hotel. Many people bustled up and down the wooden staircase across from the doorway. Upstairs would be the dorm rooms, where battlers were allowed to stay the night. When I had arrived, the rooms had been full so I was forced to go to the tavern.

Under the stairway was an open door that looked out into a covered area outside. From there I could hear the metallic pounding of hammer and anvil as armor and weapons were built or repaired. I looked around halfheartedly for the green warrior, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, I was rudely brushed aside by a tall warrior in light leather armor, followed by a Lucario. I glared at him. Lucario owners were always so arrogant. I had battled one before that had wielded an array of kunai. He had been just as pompous, so I had felt little regret in ending his career forever.

Minutes later I retrieved Metagross with my arms and pack full of supplies. He looked at me skeptically as I lay out the things on the wet ground in front of the building.

“I know we don’t travel much,” I said, “but it’s going to happen from time to time, so you better get used to it.”

Searching through the bottom of my pack, I fished out a bundle of leather straps and bags. Metagross would have to carry his own weight, as it were. Gently, I wrapped the straps around the Pokémon’s body, careful not to obstruct his mouth or legs. Into the bags went a portion of the food and some pieces of my armor. There weren’t enough rations to get us all of the way, so some hunting would be necessary, but I was fine with that. Any self-respecting traveler was trained with and carried a bow, I was no exception.

Taking out the map I had picked up, I slowly knelt and sat on the ground. I was incredibly stiff and sore from the previous day’s excitement. As I spread the map out on the ground, Metagross peered forward. He seemed to appreciate me putting myself on his level. That was what made us such good partners, we respected each other.

“You know that mountain ridge we had to pass over on our way here?” I asked the Pokémon. “The fellow inside said that the nearest town with an arena is actually inside of it.” I pointed to a small dot, nestled between the inked mountains that split the map in half. In cramped writing was the label “Azurefell.”

“It’s supposed to be smaller than this place, but it’ll do. You ready?”

Metagross gave a loud huff of anticipation and nodded in agreement.

I swiftly rolled up the map and stood, “Well let’s go then.”

* * * * *​

​

The Pidgey’s body twitched slightly as I removed the arrow from its breast. The bird was of decent size, but I would need to get another if I was to sate Metagross’s appetite as well as mine. We had been trekking hard for two whole days, and were making very good time despite the intimidating elevation gain.

It was very difficult to use the bow without my index finger, but after a little bit of practice I got good enough with using my middle and ring fingers above and below the nock respectively. I doubted I would ever be as good of a shot as I used to be, but that was just another consequence of being a battler. At least the pay was good.

Tying the feet of the bird and swinging it over my back, I looked around. The Pidgey’s pre-death squawk seemed to have frightened off any other game. Nocking an arrow, I slowly stood and walked towards a nearby clearing. Maybe I would be able to see something from there.

I closed my eyes as I stepped into the field and listened intently. Off in the distance was the roar of the river that Metagross and I had crossed earlier that day. But other than that, I heard nothing but the wind in the trees and the rustle of grass. A cool breeze brushed against my face, a faint reminder of the approaching twilight.

But when my eyes flicked open, I did see something. A brown dot, growing bigger, flew just above the trees off ahead of me. At last, some luck. Dropping the Pidgey I was carrying, I pulled back the string of my bow and waited for my target to come to me.

But after a second, I realized two things. The dot was much larger than a Pidgey, just farther away, and it was traveling incredibly fast. I slowly lowered my bow and squinted. It was coming from the west, the direction of the setting sun, which caused a nondescript silhouette. What was that?

Mere seconds later, my question was answered. With a flurry of feathered wings and dust, a proud looking Pidgeot landed in the grass not ten meters in front of me. Even more surprising though, was the figure that leaped off its back.

With short brown hair and an athletic figure, she was both young and beautiful, which was surprising as everything else about her appearance hinted that she was a warrior like me. She was clad in hardened leather armor like that of the Lucario owner, but with light metal plates on her chest, back, and arms. She was armed with an exquisitely crafted recurve bow that put my homemade yew weapon to shame. The arrows in the quiver on her back looked to be fletched with Swanna feathers. On the breast of her Pidgeot was a steel plate of armor and on its back was a saddle laden with supplies.

I just stared with my mouth hanging slightly open. There was so much wrong with that picture. She was too young to be a warrior, she was a woman warrior, which is rare, she wielded a bow, which would get her destroyed in a battle unless she rode upon her Pokémon. And that was the last thing. I had never seen anyone tame a flying Pokémon before. As far as I knew, it was completely unheard of.

Luckily, she spoke first. “Are you lost?”

I blinked. To be honest, I had half expected her to challenge me to a battle. “Umm… no. Just hunting. I’m… travelling to…” I paused a second as I tried to recall the name of the town that was my destination. “Azurefell, that’s it.”

“Well, you aren’t far.” She gestured to the mountain behind her. “It’s up there, make it over the next ridge and you’ll see it. Two days if you’re slow.”

“Thanks.” I shifted uneasily on my feet. “What are you, some sort of ranger?”

Before she could answer, we were interrupted by a roar from behind me. With lightning fast reflexes, the girl nocked and loosed an arrow at whatever it was as her Pidgeot gave a cry and flared its wings. I whipped around to see what was attacking us.

“NO!” I screamed. Luckily, the arrow bounced harmlessly off Metagross’ armor-like skin without doing any damage. Seeing a Metagross gallop, or otherwise attempt to move with any sort of haste, is actually quite a humorous sight. At least it is if said Metagross isn’t overly protective and incredibly pissed off, which it probably will be, as there’s little other reason for a Pokémon of that size to move quickly.

“Wait!” I jumped in front of the blue beast and waved my arms. “I’m fine, she’s no threat!”

With a loud huff and deep, throaty growl, Metagross skidded to a halt in front of me. I whipped around to face the Pidgeot rider.

“What the hell did you do that for? Don’t you think?” I yelled.

She looked panicked. Her beautifully crafted bow had been dropped to the ground and she had fallen to her knees.

“Oh my Arceus. I am so sorry. It’s my reflexes, you have my deepest and most profound apology.” But she wasn’t looking at me; she was looking straight at Metagross. This day just kept getting weirder and weirder.

I stood, dumbfounded, as Metagross brushed by me and slowly approached the girl. The Pidgeot fidgeted slightly as my Pokémon moved closer until his deep red eyes were inches from her dull green ones. The girl didn’t flinch. She looked incredibly regretful, but also uneager to show any sort of fear.

We stood for what felt like minutes as the two of them had their staring contest; neither one appeared to blink. Suddenly, Metagross let out one of his loud huffs. The abrupt sound caused the girl to twitch slightly and jerk backward. Confident that he had successfully intimidated his opponent, Metagross retreated to my side rather smugly. I laid a calming hand on his head.

The girl got to her feet and stepped backward next to her Pidgeot. “I have some food if you’d like to join me,” she offered.

I looked down at the ruffled bird that lay in the dirt at my feet and picked it up. “Why not?” I said with a shrug, “thank you.” Metagross growled quietly. I kicked him in the leg.

An hour or so later, we sat around a fire finishing what had actually been a much more filling meal than I had expected. It was now dark and neither I nor the girl, whose name I still didn’t know, had said a word. Our Pokémon just glared at each other over the flames.

Setting down a bone that I had just gnawed clean, I looked at the girl in the flickering firelight. Going out on a limb, I tried to make things a little formal. “Tell me, what’s your story?”

It was a question that held heavy customary significance. Traditionally, that was a question asked only when you were genuinely interested in the answer. Typically it wasn’t something you asked strangers, but I was very curious. Although it may be a bit of a breach of privacy, it was considered very rude not to answer. In return I would have to tell her my story, which wasn’t something I was too worried about. I was a normal person, after all, not some shady character with a mysterious past.

She looked into my eyes, her hands playing absentmindedly with the intricate designs on her unstrung bow.

“Let’s start with names. I’m Matthian,” I said in an attempt to make things a little less awkward.

After a long pause, she started to talk. And once she started she didn’t stop, like she had wanted to talk for a long time but never had the chance. “I’m Avis. I was raised… my brother and I were raised by our father. He was never… is not a particularly pleasant person. Sometimes I think that all he cares about is the money. You see, he raised us to be warriors. At first it was just Vito, my brother. It was harsh training, and my father was unforgiving. I didn’t like listening to the sounds of them battling, so I would go out into the woods. One day I took Vito’s knife with me and started carving. Every day I would carve a new figure of some Pokémon. They were crude at first, but slowly improved. Eventually I found a nice yew branch and carved this bow.” She raised the weapon. “I had always liked archery, but my father refused to let me really learn. He said it was cowardly to fight from a distance and said that I would get torn apart in battle.”

I nodded slightly.

“But I didn’t want to learn so that I could fight. I just enjoyed it.

“So once I finished the bow, I brought a string and strung it. Every day I practiced, until I was very good.”

She paused briefly here and took a deep breath. “Then came Vito’s eighteenth birthday. My father let him compete in his first battle.” Another pause, this one accompanied by a glistening in her eyes. Not a happy glistening. “He lost, and his life was taken.”

I let out a breath, but she continued before I could offer any sort of condolence.

“My father was furious. Not at the opponent, not at the system, not at himself, but at Vito. He said my brother was weak. He said my brother was incapable. He said my brother was… a waste of time. But in his anger, I saw something. Or at least I thought I did. I saw desperation. I saw a man that wanted a legacy, a man that wanted children to support him when he aged.

“I wanted to do something for him. I promised that I would replace Vito and become an expert battler. But he just scoffed and said I would never win, not with my weapon of choice. Maybe he’s right, but that’s when I began working my way toward proving him wrong. The day after Vito’s death, I went out into the forest where I had always sat and carved. There I found Pidgeot.

“I don’t know why, but he trusted me. I did the impossible and befriended a flying Pokémon. I love Pokémon, all of them. They’re so innocent and non-judgmental. They are as pure as creatures can be.

“That’s my story. It’s been years, though. My father has reentered the battling circuit and is very successful. I travel with him, training all the time. Maybe, just maybe, I can prove him wrong.”

I was a bit taken aback. “Where is your father now?”

“Around,” she said, gently stroking Pidgeot. “Possibly getting ready to participate in the upcoming battles in Azurefell. I assume that’s where you’re headed.”

I nodded.

“Then hope that you don’t run into him.”

“How will I know who he is?”

“I think you will know. He’s the one with a heart and mind as cold and sharp as steel.”

She never asked me my story.

* * * * *​

Exactly one day later I stood ankle deep in snow, gazing over a frozen lake and up a ridge at the moonlit palisade of Azurefell, where it lay nestled beside the cold belly of the mountain. I was freezing, and Metagross didn’t seem to be doing much better. I contemplated whether we should stop there or hike through the night until we arrived. A thought struck me, and I smiled to myself. “You know what mother would say, Metagross? ‘It’ll still be there in the morning.’ Then father would shake his head and say, ‘Then again, it might not.’” I decided not to take the chance.

* * * * *​

Chapter word count: 2,718
Total: 6,396

 

[AetherX]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo) *Chapter 3 up*

God, I procrastinate so much. I should be able to reach my word goal in the next 24 hours, but it's two chapters until I finish (including one super epic battle climax). I'll give it a shot :cheers:

Hope y'all like this'un. Once again, no revision so it kind of sucks. Tomorrow's won't be much better.

* * * * *​

Chapter 4:​

The Worth of Life
​

Spoiler

Not a soul besides me prowled the icy streets that night. I was lucky to even be let in to the city; the gatekeeper had taken pity on me. But now Metagross and I walked, chilled, through the freezing snow. No light showed from the windows above and no friendly voice beckoned us inside. My best bet would be to find a pub with a couple drunks that were still awake. Anywhere that was warmer than this was welcome.

Our prayers were answered not much later. A tavern stood ahead. Its wooden door had a small window through which shined a warm light, almost begging us to come inside. I was all too happy to oblige. As I opened the door and eased into the room, Metagross pushed in behind me. He was technically supposed to wait outside, but I didn’t object and when I looked at the tired bartender, he just waved a hand in dismissal.

“You a warrior, ain’t you?” he asked as I set down my heavy pack with a loud sound and sat at the bar. Metagross settled behind me.

I nodded, still shivering.

“You’re brave souls. Both of you. I couldn’t ever do it myself.”

It wasn’t until then that I noticed the man sitting next to me. He was of small build, but judging by the barkeep’s banter, he was a warrior too. Short, unkempt black hair was spotted with snow, he must have come in not long before me. The man saw me staring and turned to look at me. His dark, beady eyes looked far older than his body. There was something familiar about them. I blinked, and they shone out through a slit in the green visor of a helmet.

I nearly fell off of my chair. A brief glance at his waste showed two short swords sheathed at his belt. “You!”

His thin lips curved upward in a slight smile. “I thought so. There aren’t many Metagross owners.”

“You’re participating in the upcoming battles, then?” I asked, shocked that I had come across a familiar face in such a godforsaken town.

“Obviously. How’s your hand? I’m genuinely sorry about that.” He looked it, too. Why was this man so damn compassionate? It was frustrating.

I stretched my three fingers and one stub. “A little sore, but manageable. Hopefully I’ll have better luck this time.” The bartender eyed my wound as he polished a glass, clearly impressed and a little disgusted. I decided to ask the question that had been on the forefront of my mind since the two of us had left the arena the week before.

“I’m Matthian, by the way.”

“Seth. It’s a pleasure to see you unarmed.”

I laughed and patted the hammer at my belt. “Not completely.”

“We never leave our weapons behind, do we?”

“We always have to be ready to fight. Fight or die.” I sighed before finally continuing. “When you beat me, you said that you always let your opponents live.” He nodded. “Why?”

There was a pause, a long pause, before Seth eventually responded. The bartender stopped his polishing and stared at us. He absentmindedly set a drink in front of me, despite the fact that I had not ordered one.

“It’s not right. Killing people. We do this to make money, provide entertainment, travel, and better ourselves. There is no reason that we should have to risk our lives to do it. I have a cousin who’s a peddler. He makes almost as much money as I do, yet he doesn’t run the risk of being killed every time he goes to make a sale.

“Plus, I can’t stand that feeling when someone is at your mercy. Sometimes they want to die. For honor, or some Tauros shit like that. But more often than not, they’re begging you to let them live. People have spent years getting to where they are. Years! They have touched countless others and made a tremendous impact, in their own way. You never know what they could go on to do. It’s wrong to take that away from them in an instant.

“You probably think I’m weak, that I have no strength to end a life, but that’s my decision. People get too caught up in the bloodlust of it all. The crowds don’t understand what it’s like to be down on the field, on your knees, with a blade under your chin. Life is too valuable to waste. My goal is to change the sport to my way of thinking, but that will never happen. Don’t listen to me; I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
By the time he was finished, a single tear was running down the cheek of the silent bartender. My own eyes had even begun to water. He was right, after all. Life is too valuable to take away, too valuable to give up. Life is for living and enjoying, growing and experiencing.

* * * * *​

Three days later I again sat on a bench in a small room, with no company but my hammer and Metagross. Only this time it was all wooden and much, much colder. Despite how close I sat to the single torch, I could still see my breath.

The stadium was smaller than the one at the other town. Apparently it had been built rather haphazardly for a festival a few years earlier. Only four or five battles were going to happen this round, otherwise I would have to share waiting rooms with somebody. Secretly, I wouldn’t have minded that at all. But here I was, left to stew in my own thoughts.

I thought back to what Seth had said at the bar. I had since decided to do the same as him. This would be the first battle where I would let the opponent live no matter what. Assuming I won of course, but I didn’t plan to lose.

Before long, a manager was sent to retrieve me. As we stalked along the dimly lit halls to the main arena, I thought back to my thoughts the last time I had made this walk. I would never be having that problem again.

The door was much less impressive this time, and opened with a creaking noise. The crowd, however, was equally boisterous. The ground this time was frozen dirt, with a few blades of grass choking through here and there. With Metagross behind me, I took eight steps forward and looked to my opponent. My eyes widened.

It was a second chance. There was no other way to describe it. The same armor, the same weapon, even the same Pokémon. Yellow, all yellow, with a helmet that didn’t cover his face. I wouldn’t be making the same mistake as last time. Putting my shield out in front of me and my hammer above my head, I bent my knees and got into a ready position. He did the same, the spiked ball of his mace swinging ominously. At my side, Metagross glared across the arena at the Combusken. Everything was the same.

Slightly tinnier than the one in the last town, a bell rang out and the battle was on.

I led with my shield this time. Since he was also using a heavy weapon, I wouldn’t have to worry about getting tired out before him. The man was surprised by my aggression, his shield arm crumpled under my blow and the spike on my shield left a dent in his chest plate.

He staggered backward. I jumped at the advantage, but he was expecting me this time. He caught my hammer on his shield and pushed me back to where Metagross and his Combusken were fighting. I turned to my Pokémon before my opponent attacked again, “Let’s keep things lively, what say you my friend?” Metagross gave a growl of agreement and we leaped into action.

Ignoring my now charging opponent, I turned and stepped onto Metagross’ flat head. With a grunt of effort, the Pokémon threw me at Combusken, who had just recovered from a barrage of attacks by Metagross.

I gave a loud battle cry as I flew through the air at the Pokémon. I heard a shout of surprise from behind me as Metagross engaged the yellow armored warrior. The Pokémon was equally surprised and received a crushing blow from my hammer.

Combusken recovered quickly, though, and slashed at me with its fierce claws. I barely managed to stop them with a flick of my weapon.

We danced around like this for quite some time. Combusken was much faster than me with all of my armor, but I was more experience. It was little trouble to block each blow and follow up with one of my own. I hate to say that it was a poorly trained Pokémon, but it had no sense of strategy, just reflexes and instinct.

Metagross didn’t seem to have a problem fighting a human opponent either. His sheer weight and strength could overpower any kind of attack that the yellow-armored warrior threw at him.

More than anything, Combusken seemed to be getting increasingly frustrated that it couldn’t land any debilitating attacks on me. All of a sudden, the Pokémon began a flurry of aggressive kicks. He never lost balance, leaping from one foot to the other, making strikes with both his clawed feet. I stopped one with my hammer, another with my shield, the third caught me in the chest, but I stood my ground. The fourth knocked my hammer out of my hand and the fifth one finally knocked me over. The Pokémon leaped at me, I raised my shield to meet it and prepared myself for the blow, but it never came.

From nowhere, Metagross leaped over me and tackled Combusken straight out of the air. It gave a loud caw of surprise. I looked to my left, where I saw the yellow-armored warrior dashing to pick up where his Pokémon left off. I wasn’t going to let that happen. After a frantic moment, my right hand found my hammer in the cold dirt next to me. My opponent gave a battle cry as he neared and raised his weapon for a finishing blow.

With a grunt of effort, I twisted and heaved my hammer at his legs. It spun quickly through the air and caught him unawares, causing him to shout in pain and tumble head over heels into the dirt. I leaped up and quickly incapacitated him by placing a studded boot on his mace arm. To force the surrender, I needed some kind of mortal threat, so I placed a knee on his chest, further paralyzing him, and lowered my shield spike to mere inches from his nose. The bell sounded again, signaling that he was down and out. A brief glance over my shoulder showed that Metagross’ tackle had knocked Combusken out cold.

Just like before, it took a second before all of my senses returned. The adrenaline began to fade and I gave a shudder at how tired and sore I was. The crowd roared around me. I knew what they wanted, but I also knew what I wanted. This time, I knew for sure the choice to make.

Slowly, I removed my knee from the man’s chest and stood up, offering him a hand, which he took, his stunned eyes radiating thanks.

“You’ve got a lot to work on,” I said, “learn to cooperate with your Pokémon. It’s an advantage even I forget sometimes.” Sweat pouring down his face, he just nodded.

I smiled to myself as I retrieved my hammer and returned to Metagross. It had been a good battle, and I was glad to have journeyed so far to get there. With a wave to the booing crowd, I left the arena.

* * * * *​

Chapter word count: 1,970
Total: 8,366

 

[sharktooth162]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo) *Chapter 4 up*

Damn this is cool. I love the way you make the pokeon reflect the warrior with the Lucario trainer being really pompous and full of themselves and the action is really well described. Are you going to continue it after the SuBuWriMo or not?

 

[Pseudonym]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo) *Chapter 4 up*

Quite amazing. Yes, i've seen some typos here and there but it's very good written overall, especially if you're doing for SuBuWriMo (which ends today). Good plot too, I'm very interested on what will happen next and it's great that Matthian has understood not to kill. Keep it up!

 

[AetherX]

Re: Locked in Battle (SuBuWriMo) *Chapter 4 up*

Damn this is cool. I love the way you make the pokeon reflect the warrior with the Lucario trainer being really pompous and full of themselves and the action is really well described. Are you going to continue it after the SuBuWriMo or not?

Well, my current story won't be much longer, but I do plan to finish it. After all, this isn't the last chapter but this is the deadline. I'll probably update Unpredictable before I finish this. It's been too long.

Quite amazing. Yes, i've seen some typos here and there but it's very good written overall, especially if you're doing for SuBuWriMo (which ends today). Good plot too, I'm very interested on what will happen next and it's great that Matthian has understood not to kill. Keep it up!

Yeah, I've caught quite a few typos too, looking back. I'm glad you like the plot, I personally find it a little simplistic compared to my usual stuff, but that's what happens when you try to write a shorter story.

The last speed-written chapter. I'll try to spend more time on the next one.

* * * * *​

Chapter 5:​

Another Point of View
​

Spoiler

I don’t know what made me do it. I never watch the battles after my own. But for some reason, I felt that I wanted to do it this time. So I left Metagross and my pack at the Battler’s Guild and made my way back to the arena still wearing my armor, although I had shed my helmet and shield.

Battlers were given free admittance to all arenas, although I had never known anyone to take advantage of it. We got enough bloodshed on our own down on the field.

I elbowed my way to the bottom fence, at the very front of the crowd, and looked out at the competitors. I had missed one battle, but this one looked like it was just about to start. I looked to the west door, out of it was walking none other than Seth. He was once again clad in his segmented scaly green armor and carrying two slightly curved short swords. Beside him was his Scyther, looking as intimidating and angry as ever.

From the east door strode a tall, hulking man, wielding a glaive, a long bladed spear that was only sharp on one side, but had a hook sort of thing on the other. I had never seen a warrior use a weapon like that before, but I could see the appeal. It was a long slashing weapon, which meant that he could keep his opponent at bay and still have a wide angle of attack. His armor was mostly gray-black metal except for his shoulders, knees, and helmet visor, which were all bright silver. It was easily the most intimidating suit I had ever seen. Spikes adorned his giant shoulder plates and his helmet had a single horn jutting out the back. I had no idea how he planned to use a weapon that required so much finesse with such heavy armor. He must have been incredibly strong.

There seemed to be some commotion in the doorway behind him, as he looked back and yelled some indiscernible words inside. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his Pokémon was not emerging.

After a moment, he turned around completely, took a step forward, yelled again, and gestured towards himself with his open arm. There was a pause, and the murmuring crowd silenced. Then came a roar, and the wooden beams around the door split with a loud crack. Several people screamed. What came bursting through the smashed open door was the largest Pokémon I had ever seen used in competitive battling.

It looked remarkably similar to its owner. Black and silver armor coated its entire body and two large horns jutted out of its head. A pair of fierce blue eyes glared out from under a visor-like bill that looked almost like the skull of a Mandibuzz. It was an Aggron, and it was more frightening than any other Pokémon I had seen. No wonder it hadn’t been able to fit through the door.

Across from the monster and its monstrous trainer, Seth and Scyther didn’t even flinch. Instead, they just got in their respective ready positions and awaited the bell. I admired his courage; I would probably be pissing myself in fear if I were in his place. Even now, I was deathly scared for him.

The crowd must have all been as scared as I was. No one made a sound as the silver-armored man took his position eight steps in from the ruined door and grabbed his weapon with both hands. Aggron stood beside him, each step shaking the ground slightly. Almost tentatively, the bell sounded and the battle began.

Instantly, the rest of the onlookers forgot their fear and began cheering on the fighters. I, however, remained uneasy. Seth was an incredible warrior, but this stranger looked more than capable of beating anyone that stood in his path.

As per usual, the Pokémon leaped at each other separate from the humans. Aggron barged toward Scyther, who easily avoided the attack with a flap of its wings. The silver man just took a step forward and swung his weapon in a sweeping arc at Seth, who in a remarkable display of acrobatics, jumped over it and charged with his swords.

It had been years since I had seen a battle from the outside. But now, with the eye of a battler myself, everything seemed surreal. It was almost like I was in the fray myself, I got the adrenaline, and everything moved in slow motion.

Seth got some hits in here and there, but nothing could get through the large man’s thick silver armor. Scyther was fairing slightly better. At least, he had successfully pissed off Aggron. The two Pokémon were quite a sight to watch. I was sure that if the giant steel Pokémon landed a single hit, Scyther would be finished. The crowd clearly shared this idea, as they gasped every time Aggron’s foot or clawed hand came down. But every time, the mantis Pokémon would just barely dart away.

I turned my attention back to the humans just in time to see the silver-armored man land the blade of his glaive on the hilt of Seth’s left sword. The weapon went flying out of his hand and landed in the cold dirt much too far away to recover. My eyes widened. The silver man came around for another swing.

“Oh, shit.” I muttered.

But it was Scyther to the rescue. Leaving his own slow, hulking foe in the dust, he flew over and caught the man by surprise. A single, very sharp scythe cleaved through his shoulder spike and clipped him on the side of the head. The metal spike spun away and buried itself in the dirt.

The man yelled in pain, blindly swinging his weapon at the Pokémon and stepping backward. Scyther was not ready for the attack, and got hit by the blunt pole of the glaive. The man clearly did not expect to actually hit something and hesitated for a second. Seth took advantage of this by jumping forward and swinging his remaining sword at the silver-armored warrior’s leg. It caught him in just the perfect place. The cold steel of the weapon sliced through an exposed leather strap, freeing the left legging of the man’s armor. The lunge left Seth off balance, however, and the man’s retribution was swift. He pulled the loose armor plate from his leg with a single strong yank, and threw it at Seth. The edges must have been fairly sharp, as there was a gash in the leather at Seth’s elbow where it hit him.

In the mean time, Scyther and Aggron were back at it again. The steel Pokémon would swing his massive tail and swipe with his fierce claws, but each time Scyther would dart away immediately before impact. The mantis’ patient yet consistent barrage of slashes were beginning to make a mark. Aggron’s metal skin was no longer shiny, but scuffed. Scratches and lacerations laced his body. Drops of dark red blood fell here and there.

I could tell already that the battle was nearing its end. Both parties danced around each other for a few more minutes, but they were all getting tired. They were all getting frustrated. Sure enough, after a little while longer, end it did.

Scyther was doing rather well, actually. Aggron hadn’t landed any real hits on him, but again, I was sure if he had then Scyther would be out.

Seth started getting incredibly aggressive. As the large man made a swipe, Seth didn’t jump backward to dodge it, but lunged forward. He blocked the rod with his arm, which looked painful, and swung his sword at the silver-armored man’s side. The warrior wasn’t going down without a fight, though. He actually let go of his weapon’s handle with his left hand and grabbed the sword’s hilt mid swing. Both warriors were now in an open stance. It was a split second that decided the whole battle.

Without hesitation, the large man rammed his head into Seth’s much thinner helmet. The attack left him a little dazed and confused, which the silver-armored man took advantage of by delivering to him a powerful quick to his stomach.

The blow caused Seth to drop his sword and spin around as he fell backward, eventually landing face down in the dirt. The silver-armored man didn’t give him time to recover. He jumped forward, an impressive feat for one with such heavy armor, especially given the imbalance caused by missing an entire legging. He grabbed Seth’s helmet and pulled him up to his knees. Grabbing his glaive right under the blade, he held it up to Seth’s neck like a dagger.

This was it.

Scyther saw what was happening, which was unfortunate. He was distracted, so the next swipe of Aggron’s tail caught him across the head, knocking him over and putting him at the mercy of the steel Pokémon.

The bell rang once again, causing the crowd to cheer even louder. Both of the partners were down. My hands tightened on the wooden railing in front of me. Now their fate would be decided.

A flash of steel. A spray of crimson blood. I let out a gasp. Seth was no more.

The man stood up from the fallen body of the green-armored warrior, wiping the gore from the blade of his weapon. He turned to his partner. Aggron raised a giant clawed foot above Scyther’s limp, but still twitching body. The fate of the Pokémon was always the same as the fate of the warrior.

“Wait!”

I don’t know what made me do it. It was pretty stupid, looking back.

“Wait!” I cried again, jumping over the barrier and into the field. To my left and right I could see guards heading towards me, but the silver-armored man was curious. He waved them off.

He tore his helmet from his head, revealing a rather old face. He had dark eyes like Seth’s and a short, scruffy brown beard. Scars laced his countenance, giving him a frightening appearance. “What do you want?” he said in a gruff voice.

I was already beginning to doubt myself. The man was head taller than me and I heard Aggron give a growl in the background.

“I…”

My gaze was drawn to Seth’s body, sprawled in the dirt. The sight breathed courage into my veins.

“Spare the Scyther.” I said, staring into the man’s intense eyes.

He squinted back at me. “Why? What use is a Pokémon without a companion? It deserves to die.”

I stood tall and took a step forward. “With all due respect, sir, the only reason your Aggron managed to beat it was because your defeat of its partner distracted it.”

The man glared at me for a moment. I didn’t back down. Then he laughed, a short, grating sound. “You’re bold, son. Take the Scyther, it means nothing to me. Aggron, let’s go.”

The crowd didn’t seem to understand what was going on as I helped Scyther out of the arena, following the man and his Aggron.

* * * * *​

​

I’ve seen death before, it’s not like this was anything new. But I was expecting to feel different this time. It had been years since I had seen the death of a friend or family member, and although I didn’t know Seth very well, I was sure that I should be more heartbroken by his loss. My own apathy scared me.

I reassured myself by thinking of the Pokémon that sat to my left. Scyther had been Seth’s after all, and I had saved him to preserve Seth’ memory. Or something like that.

I was now sitting on a bench in the town center of Azurefell, brooding over the day’s occurrences. Metagross was on the ground to my right, acutely sensitive to my discomfort. No more snow was falling, but the air was still quite cold and the sky was blanketed in gray clouds.

Suddenly I heard a shout from behind me. “Matthian, m’boy, thank Arceus you’re here!” I turned around.

Striding toward me in his blood red armor and with his massive Kingler in tow was none other than Armand. It had been months since I had last seen him, but he had changed little. His giant battle axe was strapped to his back.

“Armand? What’re you doing here?” I asked, standing up.

“That’s a stupid question. Battling, of course. You did the same, I assume. Did you win? Where’d that Scyther come from?”

“Yeah I won…” I told him the events of the day.

Once I was finished, he smiled sadly. “Forgive me if this seems presumptuous, but it sounds like you’d be willing to help me.”

“Help you with what?”

“I’ve found him!”

* * * * *​

Chapter word count: 2,136
Total: 10,502!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWYYEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHAT NOW?!?! TEN THOUSAND WORDS BITCHES!!!!!!!

*ahem*

Glad I could reach this goal in time. Or at least in my time. Where I live, we have 52 minutes until July.

 

[LightArrows.exe]

To bad you didn't reach your goal. But I did. Twice! Better luck with ending it faster next time!