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Vines of Deceit	By : Manifest Destiny Category: Pokemon > General Views: 14165 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon. Pokemon is copy write by GameFreak, INC. and Nintendo. I make no money from this story, nor do I seek any.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Chapter 6: Truth Will Out
—————
The days that immediately followed Tristan and Bianca’s harrowing experience in the Dreamyard had brought change and pulled the attention of the three young trainers from Nuvema Town away from aspirations of the Pokémon League. The police had no success in finding the members of Team Plasma that were responsible for the cruel mistreatment of the Munna, so they decided that they would bring them to justice if they could. While at the Striaton City Pokémon Center, the three of them were approached by a woman named Fennel, a Pokémon doctor and friend of Professor Juniper who had been studying the Munna species for years. She invited the three of them to stay at her home while she took over the care for the injured Pokémon.
While all three of them accepted her kind offer, Tristan and Cheren felt unable to sit and do nothing while the Munna received treatment, and decided to do some training of their own north of town on Route 3. Soon after they arrived, they came across another shocking and terrible event. The daycare that sat quietly on the road between Striaton and Nacrene City had been attacked by another group of Team Plasma members. The children had their Pokémon stolen and desperately pleaded for Cheren and Tristan to get them back for them.
Still angered by the Dreamyard incident, the two young boys hastily agreed and ran after the supposedly rogue Plasma grunts. The trail led them off of the main path and Cheren spotted one of their targets entering Wellspring Cave—an aboveground access to an underground river. It was dark inside, but the two trainers instantly heard voices coming from deeper in the cave. As they sneaked closer to the Team Plasma members, they saw that they were putting all the Poké Balls of the stolen Pokémon into a bag, and prepared to throw them into the water.
Against Cheren’s advice, Tristan leapt out from behind the rock they were hiding behind while commanding Draya to snatch the sack of Poké Balls from the grunt. With the kids’ Pokémon safe with them, Tristan and Cheren fought off the angry attacks from the many Plasma members. When the battle looked to be falling out of their favor, one such member called upon their Woobat to use Flash in the dark cave.
While Tristan and Cheren were blinded, the Team Plasma members ran past them out of the cave. As fast as they could manage, the two trainers regained their eyesight and made to run after the rogue grunts, but something pulled Tristan’s attention back into the cave.
Draya had hidden herself behind a rock and was visibly shaking, groaning in pain and discomfort.
“What’s wrong?” Tristan asked.
“G—Go away…” Draya struggled. Her body began to shimmer and glow with the telltale signs of evolution. “Pl—Please go…”
“It’s okay, Draya,” said Tristan. “You’re just evolving. It’s a perfectly natural thing to go through.”
“But… I can’t…” she hunched her small green body over herself. “I don’t want…”
“You don’t want to evolve?” he asked.
“I don’t want you to see me like this!” Draya yelled. “Please, go away!”
The glowing of her body brightened, her form began to change and shift, and Draya screamed for Tristan to leave her. Then, the convulsions stopped, and Draya sat perfectly still on the damp cave floor, still very much a Snivy. She slowly looked at herself and stood, running over to see her reflection in a pool of water.
“Wh—What happened?” she asked, breathing heavily. “Did… Did I not—?”
“I stopped your evolution,” Tristan said.
At Draya’s surprised look, he brought up his Pokédex and held it out to her. She could hear a dull buzzing coming from the device.
“These have the ability to stop a Pokémon from evolving, if it’s used in time. There’s some advantages to staying in your smaller forms while training, so some trainers use this to help make their Pokémon as strong as they can be,” he explained. “I don’t know why you don’t want to evolve, but if you really don’t, you don’t have to push me away. I’m your trainer and I take care of the needs of my Pokémon.”
“You mean… I can choose when it’s okay?” Draya asked.
“Sure. You can stay a Snivy forever for all I care. You’re plenty strong as it is, and keeping you like this will only help that even more!” Tristan gently rubbed her scaly head. “You helped me by showing up back at home, so if you need anything, I mean anything, don’t hesitate to say something.”
“Okay…” Draya smiled. The Snivy took a deep breath and calmed herself down. “Thank you.”
Before Tristan could respond, he received a call on his XTransceiver from Cheren.
The group of Team Plasma members had split up along the main road, and Cheren was already in pursuit of the ones headed toward Striaton City. He told Tristan to return the Pokémon to the children at the daycare, then to follow the other group headed southwest.
—————
Nacrene City has been the site of great influence on the Unova region over the years. In more recent history the only business conducted here was purely commercial. It could hardly have been called a town, much less the city it was today. Countless companies and organizations owned spaces in which they stored whatever they wanted in large warehouses. The city’s largest draw at the time was its train station, which saw the shipping of traded goods more often than people. There were more storage facilities than residential housing at such a time. Such frivolous commerce was the norm almost a century ago, and has since spread much more evenly throughout the region.
The warehouses still remain, though some have been tastefully restored over the years. Bright colors and various additions or renovations gave the old relics a purpose again. Many of the old buildings were converted into people’s homes, places of business, or recreational space. The renewed life that filled the city brought the attention of artists and clothing designers to the town from all over the region. Many of the warehouses were now studios for artists to create new styles and pieces for their gallery. Such a community transformed the city into the modern day haven for those who delve into the aesthetic arts that it was now.
While the artistic influence had spread throughout most of the city, there are still a few buildings that remained almost untouched from the corporate-run days. The train station in the southern corner of the city fell into disuse nearly fifty years ago with the introduction of the region-wide subway system. While the buildings that surrounded it were some of the more frequently used in their time, citizens and artists haven’t been in a hurry to clean up every building in town. So often, an artist would only use one of their studios for a few months, leaving it to be used by another or sold to anyone wanting to buy. Being so far out of the way from the city’s busy center, these rows of buildings hadn’t seen much use since their old days.
A week had now passed since Tristan and Cheren had taken it upon themselves to capture the rogue Team Plasma members. To them, things had seemed rather simple. Find the culprits, report them to the police, and be done with it. Cheren worried that the group headed toward Striaton City may find and attack Bianca and hadn’t left her side since. Meanwhile, as Tristan had set off to Nacrene City, he hoped to end his search for the Plasma members quickly, but had no such luck. When Tristan had arrived in Nacrene City, he was met with his first major hindrance to his mission: the city was a big place. Starting out, he had no idea where to begin looking.
He had gone straight to the police when he arrived in town in hopes that they could help him. He told them of Team Plasma and the illegal activities they committed in the Dreamyard and Route 3. To his disappointment, they all but flatly refused to help. If it was simply a bad day for them or if they were genuinely disinterested in his claims, Tristan couldn’t tell.
“Listen kid,” a Lieutenant Higgs had told him, “it’s not like we don’t want to help. Don’t think that. We’re just up to our eyeballs with as many calls as you can think of already. About a third of the people you see walkin’ around here aren’t even living in the city. That means a lot of places are their ‘work shops’ or ‘creating zones’ or whatever they call them are empty half of the time. We’ve got officers on patrol all around the city making sure these buildings aren’t broken into. And these artsy types call us in for every little disturbance they hear, thinking one of their competitors are trying to break in and steal one of their new designs or for some other reason. So, until you have any hard evidence these Plasma guys are in our city, we’ll continue doing our jobs.”
Tristan tried a few more times to get their cooperation, but the most he could get was a solemn “promise” they would help apprehend them if Tristan found where they were hiding. Before leaving the police headquarters, he made sure that this wouldn’t just end up getting himself charged with vigilantism. Wouldn’t that have been fun? Sitting in jail with a bunch of thieves, just for catching them?
Now, in the ruined and downright disparate end of town, Tristan and his Pokémon continued their hunt for the criminals. He could hardly believe the stark contrast the area had with the rest of the city. The buildings all looked their age; some smelt it. Letting them sit and continue to fall apart over the years was a poor decision on someone’s part. While it was obvious that no one had taken the time to clean or repair these buildings, it was obvious people still lived in them. Not everyone was lucky enough to be able to afford a nice home these days, Tristan reminded himself.
He wondered if many people knew about these people living in the rundown storage buildings. Piles of garbage and the strange dwelling or two dotted the rows of paved roads between the empty warehouses. Tristan had originally tried asking the homeless people for help, but after a couple of tries and a few unhelpful responses from a few vagrants, he could see it was a lost effort. No one had seen and sign of Team Plasma.
He walked down an alleyway, dodging piles of junk and jagged pieces of glass that would always be in his way. Tristan made small mental note to buy some more durable footwear. Draya hopped along behind him. Today, he’d been trying a different approach in his search. He suspected the Plasma grunts were aware of his continued pursuit of them, and as such, would be watching out for him. So instead of sneaking around every corner, he was making it very obvious where he was. To compliment this, he sent Cole to survey buildings away from where he was. If Plasma were keeping an eye on him, they would likely move or stay in a location further away from him. They would certainly overlook one more bug on the wall.
Unfortunately, the day was dragging on longer than he was expecting. After so many days without any new leads the hours of urban exploration were starting to wear his patience thin. He was relatively sure that they were still in the city, but if they had slipped by and into Pinwheel Forest, there would be little chance he would find them in there. Tristan sat down on an overturned garbage can, leaning against the wall of the building behind him. He wiped the sweat that was beginning to trail down the side of his face.
“Hey, Draya?” he asked as his Snivy hopped into his lap.
“Yeah?” Her new Everstone collar was loose around her neck. “This thing is so annoying…”
“It’s what’s keeping you from evolving now,” said Tristan. He idly adjusted Draya’s collar to a more secure fit. “But I want an opinion; Twice now, we’ve run into members of Team Plasma doing horrible things. But their leader says they’re a group striving for a good cause. ‘The liberation of Pokémon from humans’, they want Pokémon to be free. But the things we find them doing aren’t right. Hurting Bianca’s Munna, stealing those kids’ Pokémon and planning to throw them into the water… I don’t get it. What do you think about all this?”
“Ghetsis is a liar,” she said. “Simple as that.”
Tristan blinked, surprised at her quick response. “You think he knows this is going on?”
“Oh yeah.” Draya reclined onto her back as she talked. “How could he not? He might be all smiles and fancy words when he’s speaking in public, but that’s just what he wants people to see. There’s the Plasma everyone sees, then there’s what we’ve come across. They’re working in the background doing what they really want to do while the world still sees them as a group for good. Then, if anyone finds out about their bad side, people are less likely to believe it without proof.”
“That makes a lot of sense,” said Tristan. He removed his water bottle from his pocket, taking a few gulps of water. The sun was really beating down today. He offered the bottle to his Pokémon. “So the entire idea of Team Plasma is based on a lie that a figurehead spoon-feeds everyone.”
“If you're only told a lie,” Draya said between gulps, “that's the truth people believe in.”
Tristan raised his head against the wall of the building, mulling her words over. “That’s the tricky thing; people really do think Team Plasma is right. It seemed like N really believed in what they were saying,” said Tristan.
“His name is N. Of course he’s going to think weird things…”
Before Tristan could say anything else, something spiky and flat landed on his head. An exploratory tap confirmed what it was.
“Ah, Cole. Nice of you to drop in,” he said, picking up the Centipede Pokémon and setting him down in front of him. Every time he would do that, Tristan had to glance at his palms for any poisonous spines. Thankfully Cole had become accustomed to Tristan and Draya very quickly, and no longer extended his poisonous defense mechanism around the two of them. “Did you find them?” Tristan’s Venipede responded with a series of chirps and hisses, he seemed rather excited. Draya gaped at whatever he had said. She had him repeat it.
“Well?” he asked.
“They’re in that building behind you,” said Draya, pointing at the brick wall Tristam was leaning against.
Jumping to his feet, Tristan turned around to stare at the building behind him, hardly believing his luck. A rush of excitement flowed through him. He was going to check inside it anyway once he got moving, but now they have the element of surprise. Cole had been searching buildings for hours, but returned once he got hungry. As he was crawling over the roof of the building, he had heard people’s voices coming from inside. A quick infiltration through the building’s old ventilation shafts, Cole saw that it was Team Plasma inside, and hurried back to Tristan. The style of warehouse they were holed up in had only three exits; the main door, a large garage door for vehicles to come and go, and a door that lets out on the roof, with a fire escape ladder leading down to the ground.
“Good job, Cole.” Tristan set down a small meal of berries he knew his Pokémon liked. “We’ll need to make sure they can’t escape this time…” he said, thinking of a plan.
—————
It was almost too easy, Tristan reflected. Oops. That’s not a good thing to say. That always makes bad things happen in movies and stuff.
This just worked.
His plan went off without a single hitch. After quietly scaling the ladder to the roof of the building and barring the door, he called the Nacrene police department to say that he’d cornered the fugitive criminals. Next, all he had to do was occupy their time while the authorities arrived. Draya and Cole at the ready, he burst into the warehouse to confront them.
They never even tried the roof exit.
Team Plasma’s battling habits were no more ethical or sporting than he was used to, but their Pokémon seemed tired and lacking the drive to fight. Tristan wondered if they even cared for their Pokémon. Within five minutes he had them beaten and surrounded by a barrier of Toxic Spikes, courtesy of Cole. Strangely, the motor that ran the building’s large sliding door worked, and the building had power, which seemed odd to him, but he didn’t think much of it. He had them rounded up outside as the siren of a police car were coming into earshot. He had Cole carefully lay down more Toxic Spikes to make sure none of them tried escaping.
“Who do you think you are?” one of the grunts asked. They were all obediently sitting outside of the warehouse, keeping a close eye on the sharp barbs surrounding them. “We’re not the ones terrorizing people. We’re trying to save Pokémon!”
“Save it,” Tristan said. “I don’t think the cops haven’t heard that story yet. Don’t want to wear it out.”
Blue and red lights flashed around the bend just as they made it out into the road. Tristan told Draya and Cole to make sure the Team Plasma members stayed put as he went to meet the officer. To his satisfaction, it was the same one who Tristan had talked to when he arrived in the city.
“Well, lookey there. You weren’t kiddin’,” said Higgs, stepping out of his patrol car. The officer’s hands came to rest on his belt as he surveyed the area. “You ever think of joinin’ the force, kid?”
“Not very hard,” Tristan admitted. Childhood dreams of careers flooded his memory for a moment. “But don’t think you should get more cars to bring them all in? I don’t think five of them will fit in your backseat.”
“Yeah well,” the officer cleared his throat. “About that. You see, we’re not bringing them in.”
“What? Why not? They’re criminals, they’ve broken the law, arrest them.”
“They’ve already made bail,” said the officer, nodding up the road.
Two more vehicles were rolling up to the warehouse, coming to rest just behind the officer’s car. Large, gray vans, both with the Team Plasma insignia on their sides. The lead van’s passenger side door opened and a tall man with green hair stepped out. Tristan recognized him immediately. Two Team Plasma members got out of the second van and stood guard by their rogue teammates.
“Greetings,” the man said to Tristan as he walked up. The man’s face was calm but alert. He eyed Tristan with much interest. “I am Ghetsis Harmonia, of Team Plasma.” Ghetsis gave a short bow of his head, “I would like to thank you for apprehending these misguided people for us.”
“For you? What do you mean?” Tristan asked. “They broke the law, they should be arrested.”
“I’m afraid you are right,” said Ghetsis. He turned and gestured at the detained members of Plasma sitting on the ground. His expression seemed remorseful. “These poor souls have lost their way, and have been using the badge of Plasma to spread hate. Our organization has been hard at work for some time trying to bring them to justice.”
“Then let them be tried and put in prison!”
“Kid, they’ve made bail already,” the officer said. “There’s nothing else to it.”
“But they haven’t even been arrested yet,” Tristan complained. “How can you just let them walk away?”
“I can explain, my son,” Ghetsis said with a smile. “I came to this city’s police department a few hours ago, requesting their help. I had heard whispers of these lost agents of mine in this town and had hoped to retrieve them. They told me that someone else was already on the case and advised me to wait until they were found. I assumed they had a professional detective looking for them, not a young trainer such as you.”
“I told Mr. Harmonia here the crimes they were accused of, and he requested that he pay their whole bail up front, so that when they were found, he could take them in himself,” said the officer.
“Isn’t that like paying you off?” Tristan accused.
“Hey! I’m no crooked cop,” he countered angrily. “This man saved us a load of man hours and paper work that would have just been a waste of time. He gets his people back to deal with, they pay the price for their crime, and we all get on with our lives. He’s doing everyone here a favor.”
“But this won’t do anything,” said Tristan. “They’re just going to free to do those things all over again.”
“Do not worry,” said Ghetsis. “I fully intend to take responsibility and punish these sorely lost individuals. My goal, that is, Team Plasma’s goal, cannot afford any interference, especially not from within our own organization.” He nodded at the two men guarding the captive Plasma grunts. They began ushering them into the second van. “Thank you again for doing your part to further Team Plasma’s goal of Pokémon liberation.”
“Don’t mention it…” Tristan said. He clenched his fists as he saw the people he had been tracking down seemingly walk away without knowing if they would really be punished.
As Ghetsis slowly walked toward his mode of transport, he glanced down when Draya and Cole made their way back to Tristan. He turned back around, “Excuse me, my son?”
“What?” Tristan answered. He bent down and let Draya climb up his arm.
“Might you be Tristan Blake?” Ghetsis stepped forward a bit.
“And how would you know that?”
“Many whispers reach my ears. I’ve heard one of a trainer with a rather special Snivy,” said Ghetsis. He bowed, “It’s nice to meet you in person.”
“I wish we could say the same,” Draya spat. Tristan was surprised at her willingness to talk to a stranger. “Your people are doing horrible things!”
“My, my. Aren’t you…” Ghetsis leered at her. “Yes, very special. I assure you two, that anyone who slanders the name of Plasma will receive a swift and adequate response.”
“Right,” Tristan said. “I’m sure they will.”
“Well then, we should be off. Thank you again, Officer Higgs. And thank you, Tristan Blake.”
Ghetsis slowly made his way back to his van, accepting the help of one of his attending subordinates to get into the vehicle.
“He’s definitely a liar…” Draya whispered. “And he’s a cripple.”
“What?”
“Whenever he walks, he tries hard to hide a limp in his right leg and he never moves his right arm,” she said. “His face also looks like he’s in pain all the time.”
“Your point?” Tristan asked.
“I know where to hurt him,” she said.
“Leave the old man alone,” Higgs said behind him. “Probably just arthritis.”
Tristan ignored the policeman and started walking back towards the busy area of town. He heard the police car start back up and watched with contempt as it sped up the road ahead of him. As he recalled Cole into his Poké Ball he thought of something. The Team Plasma members he had been hunting had been hard to find, but when he finally did it was like they didn’t care that they had been caught. Their fighting was less than adequate, but Tristan initially thought it was either because they didn’t care to or couldn’t treat their Pokémon from their earlier fights. The building they were found in still had power.
What if it wasn’t abandoned?
“What if it didn’t matter?” he asked. Tristan stopped walking as the pieces fell together in his head.
“What’s wrong, Tristan?” asked Draya.
He didn’t answer her. He needed to make sure he wasn’t over-thinking things. He turned around on the spot and ran back to the warehouse they had just came from. Inside, he immediately looked for anything that would control the lights, if they still worked. He found a switch and flipped it, illuminating the rest of the warehouse. Even though the outside was the same kind of weathered brick and dirty windows, the interior was new and clean.
He saw cardboard boxes, some opened and a few still sealed shut. They all had Plasma’s crest on them. Littered around the floor of the building were empty packages of food, supplies, even discarded clothing. There were even a few vehicles, similar to the ones that Ghetsis and his grunts arrived in.
“None of that mattered! Any of it!” Tristan kicked a half-finished can of drink across the room. It crashed into something, but he didn’t care what. He dropped down to the floor, clenching his hair in his fists. “Those guys were just waiting for their leader to come pick them up. They own this building—have for years probably. So they sat in there, waiting to be picked up, or brought to the police and be saved anyway.” Tristan dropped his arms to his side, letting his head slump down. “He played us. We didn’t even matter.”
“Hey, hey, don’t get all emotional now,” said Draya. She hopped to the ground, making sure she was in Tristan’s field of vision. She nudged her head under his chin, “It’s not like it wasn’t all for nothing.”
Tristan looked at her, unsure of what she meant.
“Well look! We’ve already stopped them twice, and we’ve definitely got their attention now. We kept them stuck in this place for days while they had to wait for their leader to come save the day. And you know what else?”
“What’s that?” Tristan asked.
“They left the door open,” Draya pointed out to the open world outside of the warehouse. “You think those poor people we’ve been seeing would like some free food? A car or two?”
Tristan blinked, looking around at the building. It certainly was full of useful things. He smiled, rubbing Draya’s head. She gave him a sly grin and continued, “It’d be a shame if these things went to the wrong cause.”
“I knew there was a reason I kept you around,” said Tristan.
“Let’s go spread the good word!”
“Oh!” Tristan jumped to his feet, powering on his XTransceiver. “That’s right.”
“What is?” she asked.
“Spreading the word.” He began to call Cheren. A message on his XTransceiver said he had twelve missed calls from him. “Shit…”
His friend picked up after the first few rings, [“Tristan! There you are.”] The image on the screen showed some laboratory or hospital. Machinery and screens Tristan didn’t understand lined the walls. [“Where’ve you been?”]
“Sorry,” Tristan said. “Had things to deal with. Listen Cheren; don’t let any of Team Plasma‘s officials get near—”
[“Save your breath,”] said Cheren. He shook his head, [“That’s what I was calling you about. I’ve already lost them.”]
“Dammit!” Tristan swore. “Ghetsis was there too?”
Cheren cocked an eyebrow, [“No. A man named Zinzolin came and rescued the members I was after. He was one of their Sages, whatever that means. Ghetsis himself came and brought yours in?”]
“Yeah. The grunts are gone, but,” Tristan angled his wrist to show the inside of the warehouse, “we found one of their hideouts.”
[“Interesting,”] said Cheren. Tristan brought his arm back in front of him. [“Can you find anything useful inside?”]
“From what I can tell, it looks like just a storage facility,” Tristan said. He began walking through the building and rummaging through the various boxes and searching for anything notable. “Nope, just a bunch of supplies, extra uniforms, empty Poké Balls. Oh, here’s a cloth banner, let’s see. ‘For the Glory of our King.’ That’s all it says.”
[“I wonder who that could be? Bianca said that illusion of Ghetsis you both saw in the Dreamyard talked about the ‘King’ also. Maybe Ghetsis isn’t their real leader…”] Cheren paused to think while Tristan finished looking around the warehouse. [“Take a few of the uniforms, just in case,”] he suggested.
“Will do.”
[“Anyway,”] Cheren said, adjusting his glasses. [“Bianca’s caught the Munna—she’s named it ‘Moony’—and it has made a complete recovery. We’re just at Doctor Fennel’s place currently while she learns more about the Dream Mist it generates. We should be on the road again as early as tomorrow afternoon.”]
“That’s great,” said Tristan. “You want me to meet you halfway or something?”
[“Don’t trouble yourself. We’ll be taking our time as we train our Pokémon. If you’re up to it, feel free to challenge the Gym. Just don’t move on ahead without us.”]
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
[“By the way,”] Cheren said, lowering his voice. [“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s about your Snivy. In private.”]
Tristan glanced over his shoulder, seeing Draya across the warehouse. She was digging into a box, spilling its contents all around the floor. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but go ahead.”
[“There might be something wrong with her. I’ve noticed in all the battles I’ve seen her in, she hasn’t used any Grass type moves. None at all. Have you seen her use any?”] cheren asked.
“I… No, I guess not. I never really thought about it. She’s more scrappy and physical when she fights.” Tristan felt unease rise up in him. “What’s your point?”
[“I talked to Fennel about it,”] Cheren said. [“She couldn’t think of a reason why Draya hasn’t managed any Grass type techniques yet either. If it goes on too long, I suggest catching another Grass type Pokémon.”]
“I’m not replacing her!” Tristan said in a harsh whisper.
[“I didn’t say that. I’m just being realistic. If you still want a Grass type to train…”]
“I’m not talking about this now. I’ll see you when you get here.”
—————
“He looks even weirder now…” said Draya. She was peering over Tristan’s shoulder, down to the ground beside him where Cole was keeping apace, rolling on the ground.
Two days had passed after their failed attempt at apprehending the Team Plasma members. Apart from that disappointment, their unplanned gifts to those less fortunate had gone over very well. At least some good came out of that week long hunt.
Yesterday and the day before had been filled with training outside Nacrene City on the outskirts of Pinwheel Forest. The tricky wetland environment made battling a hassle. The area ended up being a great place to practice in, once they had become accustomed to it. The muddy ground restricted his Pokémon’s movements and worked their bodies much harder than they normally would have.
Cole, having struggled the most in that terrain, ended up evolving after taking down a rather stubborn Audino. He now rolled along on his circular shell as a Whirlipede. He wasn’t as agile as before, but far more capable of taking hits. Many wild Pokémon ended up poisoned as a result of his spiny exoskeleton.
“That’s what happens when you evolve, Draya,” Tristan said. “Maybe you should try it sometime.”
“Not right now…”
“I’m kidding,” he said. He playfully tapped her collar. “You’re still the one who gets to decide that.”
The last report he had gotten from his friends put Cheren and Bianca still somewhere on Route 3. It didn’t sound like they were making any remarkable progress, but any progress is something. Tristan was sure the extra time would be good for the both of them. Cheren’s Rufflet still had its short temper by the sound of things, and Bianca’s battling skills still had much to be desired. Cheren was nothing if not knowledgeable on most things related to battling, and with the addition of a Psychic type to her roster, Bianca may be able to help find the root of the bird’s bad temper. They’ll either fix the other’s problem, Tristan thought, or their personalities will make a new set to deal with. He laughed to himself at the various escalating situations that could arise.
“Big building, ho!” Draya stood up on Tristan’s shoulder, pointing up the road. “Is that it?”
Most Pokémon Gyms were just that, a place where trainers and their Pokémon battle and grow stronger. For the second time now Tristan found himself heading to one that served another purpose. The city’s Gym Leader and her husband also directed the Nacrene Museum. The Gym itself was a feature of the museum, fitting in right with the abstract nature of Nacrene City. Like Striaton Gym, Tristan had to make a reservation for his battle. His was in fifteen minutes.
Tristan walked underneath the stone archway and into the cool air of the museum. He was greeted as he entered by the attendants. After explaining his appointment, they let him past. Tristan was free to browse the museum before his battle with Lenora, the Gym Leader, but he was more concerned with going over his team’s strategy before the battle began. He and his Pokémon began heading toward the center of the large building; the battlefield was the center most section of the museum.
“Four hundred sixty-seven thousand, eight hundred seventeen years old,” a voice to his right caught his ear. “You saw things I hope to see one day.”
Tristan turned to see a large slab of stone propped up behind a glass window. Encrusted in the stone were the bones of a Pokémon, one long dead and extinct. Its height and size surely would have made it impressive in its own time. Tristan then recognized the person standing in front of the display. They had their hand on the glass, staring longingly up at the skull of the creature.
The man took off his hat for a moment and bowed his head. “I’m sure we could’ve been friends,” N said, replacing his hat upon his head. He turned and saw Tristan regarding him with a look of surprise. “Well, I was not expecting to see you here.”
“Same here,” said Tristan. “I didn’t take you to be a history buff.”
N smiled to himself, idly examining the golden, segmented cube hanging from his waist. “The past can teach us many lessons. Patterns are always there if you look for them.” N tilted his head, looking from Tristan to the ground at his feet. “Whirlipede, you’re a new addition.” N stepped forward, lightly grabbing Draya’s Everstone collar in his fingers, “And what is this?”
Draya batted the intruding hand away, “It’s mine.”
“But it is holding you back,” he said. N placed his hand over his heart. “You are just about to flourish. Do not be restrained by what your trainer wants, Draya.”
“N, it’s not like that,” Tristan said. “Draya doesn’t want to evolve right now.”
“Yeah, so back off,” Draya said, shifting to Tristan’s other shoulder.
“I did not mean to offend,” said N. He took a few steps back, putting on an easy smile. “It is nice to see that Tristan is observant of your needs.”
“I do try and care for the Pokémon I train,” Tristan said, annoyed at what N was implying otherwise. “So, why are you here? Just looking?”
N gazed around at the displays and the relics they contained. He walked up to the largest in the room, a tall skeleton reproduced in the shape of what the Pokémon may have looked like. If Tristan had to guess, it probably was a Dragon type Pokémon when it was alive. N stared at it for a few moments before shaking his head. “I am searching for the missing pieces to a puzzle that was lost long ago. A museum is a wealth of knowledge and insight.” He turned back around, “And you?”
“I’ve got about ten minutes, but I’m here for a Gym Battle.” Tristan could see the instant change in enthusiasm in N’s face. “What?”
“You force your friends to suffer the harshness of battle?” N asked. “For your own glory? I had thought you were different…”
“Why don’t you come and watch?” Tristan suggested.
“And why would I do that?”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“What do I think then?”
“You think this is only about me,” said Tristan. “You and your talk about wanting to live in harmony with Pokémon, and you don’t even ask the ones right in front of you.” He picked up Cole, carefully avoiding his new long spines. “Take Cole Train here. He’s a feisty little guy who picked fights all the time in his forest. He won too, he’s strong. He finds battling fun. So does Draya. These battles aren’t just for my ‘glory’ as a trainer. It’s good sport, and a way to live and grow with Pokémon. You said you believe that humans and Pokémon can live without us confining them, but that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy some of the things that come with this arrangement.”
“So this is fun for you?” N asked, bending down to Cole’s level. The Curlipede Pokémon blinked and hissed at him. N must have been pleased with the answer. “Well, I would not have believed it… but it seems there truly are many kinds of Pokémon in this world.”
“Trust me, I get where you’re coming from,” said Tristan. He set Cole back on the ground. “In a black and white setting, what we do to Pokémon could seem terrible, but really it isn’t. Not all the time.”
“Very well then,” N said. “I will observe your match this day. I hope it will shed light where I have been kept in the dark.”
“Great, I’ll see you— Oh crap. Two minutes!”
One quick goodbye later, Tristan and his Pokémon made a quick sprint through the halls to where he would begin his second Unova League battle.
—————
[“Ladies and gentlemen and trainers of all denominations, today’s Unova League Gym Battle is about to begin!”] The commentator’s voice boomed throughout the gym over the speaker system as the time came for the battle to commence. Cheers and whoops from the crowd rose up from bleachers that surrounded the battlefield. It seemed to be a sizable crowd from where Tristan was. He felt some of them may have been people taking a break from their museum walks; battles are far more exciting. And alive.
“A bit old-fashioned,” Tristan commented. Cole and Draya waited with him, each standing or balancing straight and calmly beside him like some comically undersized group of bodyguards.
[“In the challenger’s box, we have Tristan Blake from Nuvema Town. He’s carrying one badge already… Will he bring home his second?”]
“I like it,” Draya said. “He puts an exciting spin on things.”
[“He’ll be facing our own ‘Archaeologist with Backbone’, Nacrene Museum’s director and our fine city’s Gym Leader,”] a door on the opposite end of the Gym opened, [“Lenora!”]
A woman of pride and knowledge stepped out into the bright lights of the arena. Her lightly colored clothes contrasted with her dark skin and teal hair, pulled back over her head. She waved at the spectators as she walked towards the center of the battlefield. Tristan left his box on the field and walked to meet her.
“So, you’re confident then, are you?” Lenora asked. The Normal type specialist was giving him an odd look that Tristan couldn’t quite pin down. A frown and crossed arms put on a facade of scrutiny and slight disapproval.
“What makes you say that?”
Lenora unfolded her arms and pointed behind him, “Not many trainers come into my gym showing off the party they plan to use. Unless you think you’re clever and have more Pokémon up your sleeve.”
“I wasn’t trying to be conceited,” Tristan said.
“Well, that’s good.” Gym Leader Lenora leaned close to his face, dropping her voice. “Because I don’t like it when people think they can take advantage of me, or think less of me and show me some restraint. Nor do my Pokémon.”
“We’ll give it our all,” he said, matching her voice. “Count on that.”
“Very good!” Lenora clapped her hand hard on Tristan’s back, making him stumble. “You’ve got the good kind of confidence. Not the arrogant kind that’ll get you into trouble.” She gave him a warm smile and extended her hand. “Count on me to not go easy on you.”
Tristan shook her hand and wished her a good battle. As he got back to his end of the battlefield, Draya spoke up.
“That woman worries me,” she said.
“You’ll be alright, Draya.”
[“And with that folks, we are about to begin! Both trainers are taking their sides once again and will send out their first Pokémon!”] The announcer started his match commentating. [“Challenger Tristan Blake has a Whirlipede and a Snivy, an unusual move for a trainer to have his Pokémon known before the match even begins. What Pokémon will our Leader choose?”]
“You know,” Lenora said, holding up a Poké Ball, “I had already chosen my Pokémon before I saw yours. So I’m sticking to it!”
[“Ball is up!”] the announcer called. Bright white light poured out of the ball and onto the battlefield, shimmering and shifting. It coalesced into a four-legged shape. A white and pink coat of fur, with yellow patterns and tufts of yellow fur on its head. Perky tapered ears swiveled around, taking in the noise of its surroundings. [“And there it is; Deerling!”]
The Gym Leader’s deer Pokémon stamped its hooves on the dirt floor.
“Alright,” Tristan said. He crouched down to his Pokémon at his side, talking to Cole. “Remember what I said. Trust my judgment, and focus on moving.”
Tristan’s Whirlipede twisted his head inside his shell, facing forward, letting one big eye face out each of the sides.
“Great. Go get ‘em, Cole Train!”
Cole rolled a few feet forward onto the battlefield, coming to rest in the center of Tristan’s side of the field.
“You sure you’re not choosing that one because of my own?” Lenora asked.
“This was my plan from the start,” said Tristan. “I promise.”
The referee on the ground level of the Gym raised his hand, looking both trainers in the eye. He brought his hand down in one swift motion, “Begin!”
Right away, Cole began spinning and heading towards his opponent. Lenora’s Deerling stood its ground until the last instant and jumped out of the way, leaving Cole barreling on past where he had hoped to stop.
“Cole, angle left and turn around. It’ll be on your left, about a quarter turn!”
Listening to Tristan’s commands, Cole leaned to the left, making a wide turn around and adjusted his aim. If the enemy was right in front of him, Cole Train himself would be unable to see it. To the left or right at all, he could. Tristan would be relaying what they were doing in front and behind him, leaving Cole to focus on his speed and attacks.
“We’re not letting you run us around,” Lenora chided. “Deerling, Double Kick!”
Holding its ground as Cole came close again, Deerling turned around and bucked with its back legs, the first strike sending the Curlipede Pokémon spinning in place, the second sending it backwards toward the challenger’s side of the battlefield. Toppling end over end, Cole landed on his side after spinning a few more times. As soon as Deerling’s hooves touched back down on the ground, it yelped in pain, kicking them up again and falling on its side.
“Deerling!” Lenora called out. “What’s wrong?”
“It hit Cole Train too hard and in the wrong spots,” said Tristan. His Whirlipede wobbled in its shell, rocking back and forth until he was upright once more. “And now, you’re vulnerable. Cole! Venoshock!”
Taking the opportune moment, Cole began rolling toward the still-downed Deerling. Using a pair of long spines on the outside of his shell, Cole sprung into the air above the Deerling, spinning all the while. He began to excrete a special kind of purple ooze from his shell, splashing the ground beneath him. The young deer was caught in the waves of specialized poison, doing considerable damage after making contact with Cole Train’s barb covered shell.
Landing on the ground in front of Lenora, Cole made a quick retreat back to Tristan’s end of the battlefield just as the referee declared the victor.
[“What an astounding technique by Tristan Blake! Utilizing his Whirlipede’s poisonous body and Venoshock to deal colossal damage to Lenora’s Deerling! Was this match over even before it started?”]
Lenora recalled her Pokémon, “Not bad, son. That’s quite a strategy you thought up.” She pulled out her second Poké Ball, preparing to toss it. “But it was luck. It was luck that my Deerling got poisoned. My plans don’t require luck to take you down. Watchog!”
Her Poké Ball went into the air, bouncing on the dirt floor, and then rebounding back to Lenora’s hand. Where it landed now stood a tall, meerkat with large yellow stripes in its fur. Large, imposing eyes stared angrily at Tristan and his Pokémon. Lenora’s Watchog bared its teeth and growled.
“Round two, begin!”
“Retaliate!” Lenora commanded.
Before Tristan could give a command, the enemy Pokémon had already cleared the distance between it and Cole. Coming directly in front it, Watchog went almost unnoticed. Turning to face the side of Whirlipede saved it from coming in contact with most of the poisonous barbs that covered its shell, leaving Cole to take the brunt of a very strong attack. The Lookout Pokémon rammed right into Cole’s side, flinging the round, curled up Pokémon across the battlefield. Cole landed on his side but didn’t try to right himself this time.
[”Oohh, there goes Tristan Blake’s Whirlipede! A Retaliate attack after a Pokémon is taken out doubles in strength, something Lenora’s Watchog has in excess!]
“Cole, come on back,” Tristan said, recalling his Whirlipede. “You did great.”
“That’s…” Draya said quietly. “That’s just not fair.” She was watching the Leader’s Pokémon calmly walk back to its side of the battlefield. “Too fast. Even I’m not that fast…”
“It’s alright Draya,” Tristan knelt down on the ground, putting a reassuring hand on her head. “You’ll do great, like always. If not, we can try again. But I believe in you.”
“But…” she looked up at him. Legitimate worry was written all over her face. She was starting to breathe hard and fast.
Panic wasn’t something Tristan was used to seeing in her.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. She looked like on the verge of tears. Tristan cupped a hand to the side of her face. She calmed down slightly.
“I’m just… I mean nothing! I’ll do it. I can do it” Draya shook her head and stepped out onto the dirt in front of her trainer. “Just gotta beat him and we’re done here.”
“Round three,” the referee said, hand raised.
“That’s the plan,” said Tristan. He could see she was worried. Her breathing quickened further; her tail was shaking. This is the first time I’ve seen her nervous in a fight…
“Begin!”
The Watchog sprinted and leaped at Draya the instant the battle started. It flew through the air with frightening speed.
“NO!” Draya ran, dodging as best she could. Lenora’s Watchog pounced on nothing but dirt, but missing did not slow it down very much. It quickly made chase all around the battlefield, trying its best to catch the slippery green snake. It tried snapping at her and physical strikes, but Draya always managed to slip around it.
“Watchog, just hit the little thing! Crunch!”
She’s afraid of it for some reason, Tristan thought. We faced plenty of Patrats though… “Draya! You can’t just keep running! Fight back!” he yelled.
After another dodged attack, Draya turned on her tall opponent. Standing her ground, she waited for it to lunge with its head. Being as quick as she could, she grabbed her opponent by its big cheeks and threw it down, head first into the rocky ground below. The force of the move was impressive, leaving a shallow dent in the dirt floor of the arena, where Watchog’s head now sat.
Draya stepped away from it, wary. She caught her breath, watching for any hint of movement from her enemy combatant. She chanced a look at the referee to see if the match was over.
“Draya! Look out!”
She turned around just in time to see the angry eyes of Lenora’s Watchog staring her in the face. It wheeled around on the spot, spinning and sending a kick right at her belly. It connected, sending her reeling backwards. The little green snake tumbled and skidded across the smooth dirt floor of the Gym. Before she stopped moving, something else seemed to happen to her. A purple field of energy sparked and shifted around her. Then the field shattered like glass.
Where Draya finally stopped, there was no Snivy.
What was lying on the ground where she should have been was about the same height, but longer. Four-legged, fluffy tail, and covered in dark gray and black fur. A tufts of red grew on the forehead and on the ankles, which now lead to paws. Not hands or feet. Two red dots sat above the eyes, which were now bright cyan. Those eyes slowly opened, then locked onto Tristan. They looked afraid.
Tristan stayed right where he was, in his chalked off section of ground on his side of the battlefield. He didn’t move, breathe, or even blink. He saw what happened as clear as everyone else in the Gym did. He had the hardest time believing it though.
[“Oooh, tough luck for our challenger’s second strategy. The cat, or rather the fox, is out of the bag now!”]
Ignoring the announcer’s commentating, Tristan looked around the Gym. Lenora wore a surprised, but respectful look. Her Watchog peered up on its toes, getting a good look at its opponent now. Most of the spectators were out of their seats, cheering, remarking, trying to get a better look at the Pokémon now cowering on the ground. Tristan caught sight of where N was sitting, hand clasped over his mouth in genuine shock.
“Time out!” called Tristan. He looked to Lenora; she crossed her arms and stepped back out of her box. The referee nodded, waving a yellow flag kept in his belt. Tristan ran out to where his Pokémon was lying on the ground. Every step he made closer to her made him infinitely glad she didn’t just bolt and run away. When he got to her, she was shaking visibly, hiding her face underneath her paws, looking down at the ground. Tristan knelt down close to her, attempting to try and pet her now obvious fur, but she flinched and shied away at his touch.
“Draya?” he said softly.
She peeked one bright eye out from behind her paws. “Yes?”
“Is that you?” asked Tristan.
“Yes…” she said.
“Has this,” he gestured at her, “always been you?”
“Wh— What do you think?” she relented and fully revealed herself to him. She stood up on her four legs and shook herself of the dirt she had gained from the short-lived battle. She kept her head down, refusing to really face him.
Tristan stayed still there for a few moments, thinking silently to himself. Finally he said, “So, do you want to keep going?”
Draya’s head shot up and looked right at him. She started to say something a few times before finding the right words. “What are you saying? Aren’t you… mad?”
Tristan brought a hand over and stroked the back of her new head. “Confused is more like it. But right now, we’re in a Unova League Gym Battle. There’s a badge on the line, and about two hundred people all looking at us. I’d rather talk about what just happened in private, which I can bet you would agree on.”
Draya nodded quickly.
“There now,” he said, smiling. “You look like you can keep going. And while I don’t like the idea of forfeiting the match, I will. If you want to leave right now we will. It’s up to you.”
Draya sat down on the dirt floor. She mumbled to herself, trying to make a decision. She brought up a paw and tugged at her collar a bit, resting just above her large ruff of dark fur. After craning her neck a few times, she managed to get it back into a comfortable position. She glanced over at the Watchog that had hit her. It was eyeing her angrily. Looking eager to finish the battle.
“Yes.” She looked back at Tristan, putting on a determined face. “I’m angry, nervous and I want to get back at that rat for… well… we’ll talk about that. But yeah, I want to beat that thing.”
“Alright then,” he smiled. “You gave that thing quite the hit earlier.”
“I chipped its front teeth. He’s pissed off.”
“That’s my girl,” Tristan said, ruffling the fur on her head.
Tristan walked back to his box with his Zorua close behind. He called to the referee and confirmed they were continuing. Lenora and her Pokémon took their places once again and with the wave of a hand, the battle had begun again.
“Draya,” said Tristan. “I’m going to go ahead and guess you’re not too afraid of taking hits now.”
“Nope. The rat’s going to see what I can really do!”
Without needing any commands, Draya took to her feet and sprinted around the battlefield, gaining ground on her target. Lenora’s Watchog stood where it was, turning its head as it followed Draya’s erratic movements. She got close enough to make an attack, but her opponent was ready. Another kick was sent towards her, but Draya let herself duck right underneath the meerkat’s legs. Behind it, she rammed hard into its back, sending it falling forward onto the ground. Draya jumped onto its back as it tried to right itself pushed it further into the dust.
Watchog whipped Draya off of it with its tail, hopping to its feet. It roared back at Draya, but coughed, giving Draya her moment. She leaped up and sent a flurry of quick scratches at it, hitting its face, throat, and chest. Lenora’s Watchog tried to blindly attack back, but stumbled backwards, falling hard on its back. Draya stepped back—far back, this time—from the downed Pokémon. She decided to rely on her ears this time rather than look away.
“Gym Leader Lenora’s Watchog is unable to continue! The round goes to Zorua and match to Tristan Blake from Nuvema Town!”
[“What. An. Upset! There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. With the shocking reveal of the challenger’s true second Pokémon, he managed to come out on top!”]
Any other day would have left Tristan cheering along with the spectators in the stands. He wasn’t cheering. He was happy, proud even, that he and his Pokémon bested their second Gym Leader. But he was confused and worried apart from whatever N would have to say to him. As he walked to where Draya had collapsed on the ground from exhaustion, his mind was racing. A Zorua, not a Snivy, had visited his house all those days ago and saved him from a month of waiting around.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that quite yet.
“Amazing work, Draya,” he said, smiling. “You really let lose out there. Thank you.”
“Yeah well, I was angry…” said Draya. She looked up at her trainer, relief spread across her face. “I’m glad we’re done though. Let’s go. Now.”
“We just have a few more things to do. Then we can leave,” said Tristan.
“I have to say, you really outdid yourself. Not all of your strategies rely on luck after all.” Lenora stood in front of them, looking much more at ease than she had. “Sorry if I came across a bit rough; battling just puts me in a serious mood.”
“I just took it as sporting banter,” said Tristan. “No harm done.”
“Tristan please, all these people are looking at me.” Draya pulled a bit at his pant leg, trying to get his attention. A few excited spectators were making their ways down from the bleachers and hurrying out onto the battlefield. She called up to him in a loud whisper. “They’re coming over now… hurry.”
“Well you did good, son. Here,” Lenora held out her hand. A purple and gold pin in the shape of a book’s spine sat in her palm. “This Basic Badge is now yours.” She showed no signs of noticing Draya’s persisting worry.
Tristan took his new badge and pinned it to his jacket, just beside his Trio Badge. “Thanks, I—”
“Hey, challenger!” someone said, walking up to him. Tristan didn’t recognize him but he had on a friendly smile. He was followed by a few others. The bunch of spectators all stood around him and Draya. “Is that a real Zorua?”
“I’ve never seen one in person before,” another said.
Tristan tried to shoot down the group’s various requests for trades or pleas for a battle. As he was dealing with a particularly stubborn girl who apparently absolutely must know where he found her, another in the group reached down to Draya. A move that finally pushed the nervous Zorua over the edge.
“Get away!”
Draya’s Snarl carried for seconds after her initial warning, reaching volumes that drove all the humans who were in the Gym to cover their ears. The howl echoed for a moment after she stopped, leaving an unsettling silence. Tristan opened his eyes after enduring the ear-spitting noise just in time to see Draya darting past people crowding around the exit.
“No! Draya, stop!”
Tristan tried his best to not knock anyone over as he pushed past the many people exiting the Gym. He had to ignore the many security guards trying to stop him from running throughout the museum. Time and again he would catch just the end of her tail rounding a corner. She was heading outside.
“Wait!” he called, running out into the sunlight. He winced as his eyes tried to adjust to the change in brightness. Passersby looked at him like he had a second head before continuing on their business. Tristan looked all around, up the streets and back into the lobby of the museum. No sign of her. Oh no… He started to run down the main thoroughfare before a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Tristan.” He looked back to see N standing there, stern expression on his face. “Just when I think you may be someone different, you go and do something like this…”
“Let go! I don’t care what you have to say right now.” He shoved N’s hand off his shoulder.
“You will listen!” N said. “You could see as well as I could that Draya was worried and afraid of people. You ignored her repeated cries for help. Why?”
“I had to talk to Lenora and then I was trying to get those people to leave us alone.”
“While I disagree with the practice on the whole, you could have even put her away in her Poké Ball before all of that,” N put on a very accusing stare. “But you did not.”
“Why do you care so much?” Tristan asked. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging her decision of leaving?”
N sighed, “It isn’t that simple anymore.” He pulled a Poké Ball out of his pocket, “But now is not the time to talk.” Tapping the release button conjured up a Pidove, coming to rest on N’s shoulder. He gave it a friendly smile, “My friend will help us find yours. Zorua and their kin are known for their elusive manner, and we will need the extra eyes to find her.”
“You’re helping me?” asked Tristan.
“Yes, and you are delaying us,” N said. He looked over to the Pidove on his shoulder. “We are going to head west, please help us find a friend of Tristan. Fly fast,” he said. N let the Pidove hop to his opposite forearm and raised his arm up high, sending the gray bird into flight.
“What about my other Pokémon?” Tristan asked. “He’s still injured from the battle.”
“I can tend to your Whirlipede as we move,” N said, extending a hand. “We need to hurry if you ever plan to see your Zorua friend again.”
Tristan gave N an odd look, but decided that he was right. Time was running out. He handed him Cole’s Poké Ball they started down the road. On their way through town, they checked every side alley, every street, and asking everyone they passed if they had seen a lost Pokémon. One that could look like anything in the world.
—————
To Be Continued
—————
- 5
- 6
- 7
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Vines of Deceit