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The Dark Type	By : Manifest Destiny Category: Pokemon > General Views: 36315 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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
- 7
- 8
- 9
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Chapter 8: Stories
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As she sat on her trainer’s shoulder, Rikalia finally let herself relax as they made their way out from the main lobby of the Pokémon Center. Once they turned down the long hall which led to the rooms, she shifted her posture, leaning to her side and resting her head against his. The blue-feathered Sneasel watched the wall-mounted lights scroll past her view as she drifted off in thought.
That man… she felt a shiver start to crawl up her spine, he was so creepy, saying weird things… Partway through her musings, she noticed Iruni had stopped in front of their room.
“Well, here we are,” he said, looking down at the small envelop in his hand.
Rikalia watched Iruni take the small keycard from its paper envelope and inserted it into the lock. A small green light near the slot and a soft click proved his efforts successful. He turned the handle and pushed the door open. The lights were off in the room, but the window on the far wall had its curtains pulled, the cloudy outside world casting a dull gray tone on the room. Separating itself from the common assets of the room, a small kitchen area occupied some space on the left wall. Flicking the light switch as they entered, the room regained its color; breaking away from bland atmosphere the cloudy day provided.
“This room’s pretty nice,” said Iruni, closing the door with a push. “Now I really feel bad. Dad gives me all this money, and before I can even spend it—”
“Mine!” Rikalia yelled as she leaped from her trainer’s shoulder, landing on the soft bed. Testing out the quality of the blankets, she kneaded the bedding with her claws. Satisfied, she laid on her chest, sighing contently. She looked up at Iruni, who was recovering from the sudden movement and making sure his heavy bag didn’t fall from his grasp.
Iruni took off his pack and coat, setting them on the small couch in the room, “Rika, you don’t get the only bed. You’ll share it with me and Kar like we did back home.”
“Too bad. This is my bed, so you two will just have to share it with me now,” she said playfully.
Iruni reached for Karros’ Poké Ball, amused at her sudden upswing in mood, “And that changes things… how exactly?”
“It sounds better in my head,” she said, rolling onto her back.
“Right…” he clicked the button on the red and white sphere, releasing a black furred fire-dog into the spacious hotel room. Karros shook his head and began roaming around the room, taking in the various new smells. Predictably, he jumped up onto the foot of the bed and made to lay down.
“So Kar, are you just going to sleep, or are we getting food?” asked Iruni.
“Yeah,” Rikalia said, going over to her teammate. “I wanna eat soon, so don’t get all lazy!”
Karros tiredly looked up at his trainer as his energetic companion shook his shoulder, trying to get him to stand. Then, he caught a peculiar scent coming from his eager Sneasel friend. He leaned over and sniffed her paws. Recognizing the smell, he jumped to his feet quickly, ears perked, and eyes alert, looking from Iruni to the Sneasel who just fell forward onto the bed. The scent clung to his nose, the familiarity of it alarming him.
“Easy Karros, easy… What’s wrong?” Iruni asked, kneeling by the foot of the bed.
The Houndour barked, nodding his head towards Rikalia.
After getting no further answer from his Fire type, Iruni looked down at his Sneasel as she sat up on the bed.
“Don’t say ‘again’ like that!” Rikalia said. She shifted her gaze to her trainer, “He says he can smell the blood from earlier,” Rikalia raised her right paw to her defensive friend and extended her claws, showing him the small bits of crimson that still lingered on them. “And don’t ever say it like I’m making this a habit, Karros. This was different.” She shyly began to wipe the drying blood from her claws.
“We’re not in any danger, Kar,” Iruni said, patting his head. “Rika was just being defensive.”
Karros whined and tilted his head, questioning what his trainer had meant.
“Well, we were—”
“There was this guy, and he was being super creepy, so I swatted him away,” explained Rikalia.
“That’s the short version, yeah,” said Iruni. “You know, before we figure out what we’re doing for lunch, we really should talk about what happened, Rika.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
Iruni sighed, dragging a hand across his face. When he spoke, her trainer’s voice was stern and wary. “Because,” he said pointedly, “you cannot do that again. Do you understand me?”
“But I thought it was alright—”
“Rikalia!” Iruni yelled. “You attacked him for doing next to nothing! That’s not okay!”
The Sneasel backed away slightly at being scolded so harshly. Rikalia sat down on the bed and hung her head, idly cleaning the dirtied claws on her right paw.
“I’m not mad at you,” Iruni said softly. “I’m worried about you. You don’t think it’s okay to just attack anyone who annoys you, do you?”
“No…” Rikalia answered quietly, still avoiding his gaze.
“Back home, you were great with everyone you met. What changed?” he asked.
“I don’t know… he was—that guy was just… too weird, okay?” she looked up at him, fighting back tears of frustration. “I just… felt like I needed to protect… you and me. He felt like danger.”
To her relief, she saw Iruni smile at her words. He gently rubbed her head, lightly dragging his fingers through her fur.
“Well, that at least I can understand. Thank you for doing what you thought was right, but next time you have control yourself. Growl first, at least,” Iruni said. “If it happens again, I’ll have to recall you to your ball, and I know you don’t want that.”
“Please don’t!” Rikalia pleaded. “I hate it!”
“I know you do,” he said sympathetically. “But I’d hate it if you were taken away for attacking someone who wasn’t as forgiving as Mr. Galian was. Do you get what I mean?”
“Yes…”
“There’s probably a lot of weird people out in the world, Rika. You can’t go around slashing at people you don’t like,” Iruni explained.
Karros whined and licked Rikalia’s face, trying his best to cheer her up.
She laughed, pushing the dog’s big head away from her.
“I’m sorry.” Rikalia looked up at Iruni, hiding her claws behind her back. “I’ll be more careful with these. I promise.”
Her human reached behind her and pulled her paws back in front of her, holding them in his hands. He gripped them firmly and smiled.
“There’s enough ugliness in this world, Rika. Don’t add to it, do good with what you have.”
“I…” Rikalia started up at his eyes, unable to find the words to fit what she felt. She eventually managed a short, “…I will.”
“Good,” Iruni said. “Let’s put all this serious talk away and—”
There was a knock at their door, catching the attention of the group. Iruni got to his feet and looking through the small porthole on the door. “Oh there is no way my luck is that bad…” he whispered.
“Who is it?” Rikalia asked. “Don’t tell me it’s him.”
“Well, who else knows we’re here?” he asked her.
“Say we’re not here!”
“That’s not gonna work. Don’t hate me for this, Rika…”
Before she could say anything else, Iruni opened the door. Her short fur stood on end as she saw who had decided to pay them a visit.
Galian stood in the doorway, hair matted and dripping with water. His pant legs had large splash marks around the ankles, and his leather coat shined in the light as small rivulets of rain rolled off his shoulders, “Hello… again, Iruni Thomas,” Galian said, struggling to keep his breath, “I hope I wasn’t… interrupting anything…?”
Iruni shook his head politely before speaking. “Oh, hey Galian. We just started settling in. The room’s very nice, by the way. Too nice.”
“That’s…” he paused. The black haired man coughed a bit, and swallowed hard. “That’s good to hear… Sorry to drop by… unannounced, but I felt this would be better done sooner rather than later…” His voice was a bit haggard.
Iruni looked down at a plastic bag in the dark-haired man’s hand, and started piecing together the other clues about the man’s appearance. “You didn’t just run to the store just now, did you? In this rain?” he asked, surprised.
“It was essential,” Galian said, trying to regain his usual calm and smooth voice. “The nearest store is three and a half blocks down the road… Besides, it wouldn’t do well to apologize without ample reparation on hand.”
“What’s in the bag?” Iruni asked.
“The crucial element to my coming here. If you’ll let me come in, I hope to make everything clear… May I?”
“Sure, come on in,” Iruni said, stepping back into the room. As Galian passed by him, he could see that, if the man abandoned his habitual slouch, Iruni might be a head shorter than him. “You don’t have to do anything else you know, you’ve already apologized—”
“To you, yes. However…” he said, coming to a stop at the edge of the bed.
Rikalia had moved to the opposite side, wanting to keep her distance. She sat staring out the window, refusing to acknowledge the man with the gray eye.
Galian pointed to her, “I can see she still holds me in bad opinion.” Karros, curious about the newcomer, and eager to see if he was as much of a threat as his cold friend had made it seem, slowly approached him. Galian extended his hand to the Dark Pokémon, “This must be your Houndour then. He has a name, I take it?” He took off his black coat, folded it, and set it on the bed. He placed the bag on top of it.
“Yeah, he’s Karros. I’ve had him since I was about… eleven I think.” Iruni moved over to the other side of the bed, letting his Houndour inspect their visitor while he saw to his other Pokémon. “Rikalia,” he whispered, “What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?!” she hissed. “I’m not talking to him… I’m doing what you said, controlling myself.”
“He’s here to apologize to you because he doesn’t think you forgive him.”
“I don’t! Why would I? I don’t want to talk to him, I don’t want to see him, and I don’t want him to be here!”
“Why’re you so against him?” Iruni asked.
Rikalia slammed her fists into the mattress, “Because he’s creepy, weird, and, and—”
“At least he’s trying, Rika. He’s come here to apologize to you, he rushed out in that rain to get something that’s for you,” he put a hand on her shoulder, “So the least you could do,” he said, turning her around, “is humor him.”
She sent an angry look up at her trainer; they held their staring contest while the sound of rain picked up as it pounded against the window. Soon though, his stern gaze soon wore down her stubbornness. She slowly got to her feet and looked to the other side of the bed. Galian had since sat down and was currently petting Karros’ head.
Galian looked to his left, noticing the cautious movements of the Sneasel eying him with apprehension. “Hello there, Sneasel Rikalia. Come sit with me,” he said, patting bedding on his opposite side.
She looked back at Iruni with a pleading look on her face. Her trainer simply rolled his hand expectantly, then walked over to the couch and began to remove and organize his travel gear. As he worked, he soon became annoyed with his long hair. She watched him pull it back into a ponytail, letting his bangs fall over his face and get back to work. She sighed, defeated, seeing no further assistance coming from her trainer. She slowly went over to Galian’s side, keeping a respectable distance from him.
“I’m glad to see you’ve come around,” Galian offered his hand to her, as he did Karros, but a sharp hiss was enough for him to cease his efforts, “Not yet? Fair enough, I suppose.” He drew his hand back and ran it through his soaked hair. He combed his fingers over his scalp, revealing his pale-skinned forehead.
Rikalia wished he didn’t; his gray eye was now looking at her now.
“I would like to bring our quarrelsome history to an end as soon as possible. The fewer enemies one has at the end of the day makes for fewer knives in one’s back in the morning.”
“That’s… a little grim…” Rikalia said, transfixed on the man’s pale face.
“Ah, there it is… Iruni Thomas?” Galian asked as he looked to his left. Iruni had since become surrounded by various piles of clothes, supplies and miscellaneous objects. Even the couch was occupied with his belongings. “My, quite the load you’re bearing, is it not?”
“Yeah, I over packed when I left home,” Iruni said, rummaging through a pile of clothes for a sock he doubted he would find a match for, “I always over pack.”
“It does well to build a strong back, but not to break it. I recommend not overloading yourself so early on, especially with your injury…”
“Thanks for the ti— wait…” he said, turning back to him, “How’d you know my arm was hurt?” Subconsciously, Iruni’s right hand drifted to his left shoulder, which seemed to have picked an appropriate time to resume its chronic ache. While Iruni had agreed to leave home when his injury was healed, the projected timeframe eventually began to overlap his deadline to meet Professor Elm. Iruni made a convincing act of a healthy shoulder and was allowed to leave.
“It wasn’t so hard to notice. You pick up your backpack with your right arm and bear most of the weight on that shoulder as well. Your face betrayed a bit of pain when Jacob Ostra leaned down on your left side in the lobby as well.” Galian pushed a few locks of hair back on top of his head, “But I digress from my initial inquiry: You can understand Rikalia when she speaks, can’t you?”
Taken off-guard by the sudden change in topic, Iruni paused a moment before responding, “Uh, yeah actually. We’re not really sure how, but I can understand her just like we’re talking now. Her words actually sound like English to me.”
“Fascinating…” Galian said as his eyes widened with interest. “But that’s not why I came here.” He returned his attention to the Sneasel who was exchanging worried glances back and forth with her trainer. Galian reached into his bag, and revealed a clear, plastic container of pink fruit.
“Getting back to the matter at hand, I would like to formally apologize to you, Rikalia. My words weren’t of the proper tact,” his hand drifted to his face, tapping the bridge of his nose, “and you made sure to remind me of that.
“I have wronged you, and I felt that my earlier attempts at redemption were not satisfactory, at least to my own conscience. I may be overstepping my boundaries,” he said, opening the package, “but I think you would enjoy a Pecha berry.” Galian picked one from the plastic container, and offered it to Rikalia.
She eyed it warily, looking to her trainer for assistance; he motioned for her to take it.
“They aren’t the freshest,” he told Rikalia, “Only store-bought, but their sweet flavor and tender texture are quite good.”
The Sneasel held the pink, heart-shaped berry in her hand for a minute, turning it over and inspecting it.
“C’mon Rika, try it,” Iruni pressed, making his way to her side. “They’re not gonna kill you.”
“Well…” she brought the pink fruit close to her nose, taking in its scent, “it smells good, but…”
“Here,” Iruni said, reaching for a berry for himself. He turned it in his palm a few times, picking a suitable spot to take a bite. Sinking his teeth into the skin of the berry, his tongue was met with a gush of sweet juice as he dug into the soft flesh inside.
“There, see?” he said, chewing his bite. “They’re good.”
Rikalia tested the fruit by stabbing it with a claw, and testing the flavor by licking the juice that lingered there. Her eyes immediately lit up, visibly enjoying the sweet taste of the fruit. She took a small bite from the berry itself, finding it much more satisfying, and finished the rest of her snack in two quick bites.
She eagerly reached for another, but paused, looking up at Galian. He just smiled, and set the container in front of her, “Have as many as you wish, they’re yours.”
And for the first time, Iruni saw Rikalia smile back at the black-haired man. Abandoning her manners, she snatched up two more berries and voraciously tore into their pink flesh, relishing in the rich flavor. Partway through her third berry, Galian extended his hand toward the feasting Sneasel. She paused in her meal momentarily, but let him lightly pet her head.
“Apology accepted then?” Iruni asked.
“Yes, I’m not mad at him now,” Rikalia answered quickly, “Now, let me eat.”
“Hmm, Iruni?” Galian spoke up.
“Yeah?”
“This might just be me finding patterns that do not exist, but looking back on it, our situation seems remarkable reminiscent to that of an old story, The Nobleman’s clothes. Do you agree?”
Iruni thought for a moment, but couldn’t place what story Galian had in mind. “Can’t say I’ve heard it before.”
“I see… My father used to tell it to me as a child; it’s a story I’m quite fond of. Would you all like to hear it?” Iruni nodded, Rikalia simply picked up another berry and moved to Iruni’s lap as he sat on the bed. Karros came over to their side as well.
“Well, it’s a story set in medieval times; lords, kingdoms, knights and the like. The tale opens with a wealthy Earl; well liked, and affluent in material and social status. The Earl had a happy family, many friends, and held a great deal of influence in the city where he lived. Some held him in the same regard as royalty. An opinion that could very well have been the case; the city surrounded the King’s castle, and the Earl was always in good opinion with the King.
“One night, the King was to hold a celebration at his castle; a very exclusive event. Naturally, the wealthy Earl was to attend as the King’s guest. The Earl sent his family to the King’s castle ahead of him and gathered a group of his closest friends to accompany him to the party. With his friends in tow, they walked through the town on their way to the castle.
“Along the way, however, they came across a man, garbed in strange, colorful, eccentric clothing. The group stopped and jeered at the man; ridiculing him, their minds bogged down by liquor. The Earl, in a feat encouraged by his friends, personally affronted the strange man, throwing him into the muddy street, threatening eviction from his home for blocking their path. His group laughed and they continued their way to the castle.
“They arrived at the party and began enjoying themselves. However, the Earl saw something that filled him with dread: the man in the strangely colored clothes was at the party as well. That fact alone wouldn’t have been enough to scare him, but the oddly dressed man was talking to the King himself. The oddly dressed man that the Earl had insulted and pushed into the mud had been the King’s brother. The King, voice booming over the noise of the party, called the Earl to his side. The noisy commotion of the celebration seemed to pause instantly.
“The Earl, fearing for his life, begged and pleaded for forgiveness. He blamed his actions on his friend’s behavior, the liquor, his own pride, anything to escape the gallows. The King’s brother, being younger and kinder than his older sibling, asked the King to be merciful, and requested the Earl’s punishment to be his decision. The King begrudgingly agreed, and the younger brother began to contemplate an appropriate fate for the Earl.
“The brother thought for a moment and decided that the Earl was to wear his clothes, and be paraded around the city. However, the King thought his brother to be too forgiving, and in addition to his brother’s sentence, stripped him of his status as Earl. His wealth was to be taken away, leaving the once wealthy Earl nothing but a pauper. As harsh as the punishment was, the Earl accepted the King’s final decision, thankful that he kept his life.
“The Earl’s friends disowned him after his attempt to selfishly save his own life at the cost of theirs. His family resented him for leaving them in a life of poverty. The town’s people soon hated him, admonishing him for being so disrespectful and causing his family to have such hardships. The Earl then became known as ‘The Unfortunate Jester’, as he refused to shed the colorful clothes he was force to wear that day. He wore them as a reminder of the mistakes one can make when acting with only your own interests at heart.”
Galian cleared his throat and took a deep breath before continuing to speak, “Well, that’s the children’s version of the story. The original tale has a slightly different ending.”
“How does it end?” Rikalia asked. Iruni repeated her question to their guest.
Galian smiled at her, “The King ignored his younger brother’s pleas for the Earls life, and had him executed for his insult to the royal family.” He chuckled a bit at the group’s collective reaction, “Still one of my favorites, that one…”
“So,” Iruni said, wanting to break the tension, “how do you see us in that story? I think you’re the Earl, but am I the King or his brother?”
“I’ll leave that to your interpretation…” said Galian. He looked down at the package of Pecha berries he had brought, seeing it almost empty. “It seems my judgment was correct.”
Iruni laughed and got to his feet, stuffing the rest of his first Pecha berry in his mouth, “Looks like you’ve got a new favorite Rika. Good call on the berry idea, Galian. How’d you know she’d like Pechas though?” Karros stood and walked over to Galian’s folded coat on the opposite end of the bed.
“Some might say it was ‘intuition’, but I like to attribute it to my observatory habits,” the pale man said. He turned around, switching his focus to the Houndour sniffing his coat, “For example, your Houndour has a very mild and laid back manner, but is also alert in his senses, as he is already one step ahead of me. Karros would likely find a favorable opinion in a Chesto berry, should you find some.
“However, while I do not have any berries for you to sample, I did come prepared with something you might like,” he said to Karros. He slid his hand into the coat’s pocket, looking for what Karros had apparently been investigating. Removing his hand, he produced a small, black piece of charred wood. “This is a piece of Azalea charcoal. Fire type Pokémon seem to be attracted to the smell of the wood they employ in the craft. So, if you would like, you’re free to take it.”
Karros put his nose close to the man’s hand and sniffed at the piece of charcoal. Particulates of ash came loose from the small block, causing Karros to sneeze, shooting a wonderfully bright jet of flame up Galian’s arm. Rikalia stood up in shock, backing away from the sudden blaze.
Never losing his calm smile, and ignoring the frantic worry of the Houndour’s trainer, he patted Karros on the head, “You’ve got quite the bit of fire power, don’t you? As you can see, the charcoal significantly boosts the potency of a Fire type.”
“Never mind that! Your arm’s on fire!”
Galian casually raised his arm, coolly observing the flames slowly crawling up the sleeve of his shirt. “Oh, so it is. No harm done…”
He reached into his coat without taking his eyes off his arm and removed a Poké Ball with a deep blue base that slowly shifted to white in a flowing, wave-like pattern. He tapped the button twice and released the Pokémon inside. A weasel with soft orange fur and a single cream colored spot on her back shook her head a bit as she adjusted to her new surroundings. Noticing the situation, she jumped up onto the bed and held her paws out to the burning arm. Rings of crystal clear water emanated from the Buizel's hands and enveloped Galian’s arm. The flames were quickly extinguished and the shifting bands of water soon coalesced into a clear veil just clinging to his skin.
“Thank you, Amé,” Galian said as he rubbed the fur on the Buizel's head. “These burns shouldn’t take long to heal.”
She replied happily, rubbing against his hand as he praised her quick action.
“Are you sure you’re going to be alright Galian?” Iruni asked frantically. “I’m so sorry; Karros has a bad habit of doing that. It was an accident—”
“Just as it was earlier,” Galian cut him off, “this wasn’t any fault of yours, I assure you. Just take it as a preview of how much stronger Karros’ flames can be.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No, no, it’s quite alright. Here,” he said, holding his water-cloaked arm up for Iruni to see. “They were small burns, and Amé is very capable of taking care of such minor damage.”
“Well, that’s good,” Iruni paused to catch his breath and sat back down on the bed. “What move is that? I didn’t know there was a Water move that can heal like that.”
“This is called Aqua Ring, and it isn’t really healing as much as it’s stripping the burnt flesh away, cleaning the wound, and encouraging the natural healing process,” he reached back and grabbed a Pecha Berry from the container took a quick bite, “so all that’s left is for my body to do the rest.”
“That’s really handy,” Iruni remarked. “I’ve never heard of any Pokémon—well, apart from Chansey or Blissey anyway—using a move to heal a human before.” Iruni then felt two clawed paws grip his arm; he could feel a slight tremble in his partner’s movements. When he didn’t respond to that, Rikalia dug her claws into his arm.
“Ow! I get it, Rika…” she pulled him aside to the other end of the bed. “What’s wrong?”
“His…” she kept her voice low and moved closer to her trainer, “His arm was on fire… and he just sat there… like it was nothing.”
“What? Just a second ago you were fine with him, but when he stops feeding you berries—”
“Shut up!” she snapped. “You know what I mean… he just sat there… don’t you think that’s weird?”
“Of course I do,” he whispered, “but it’s never good to overreact about someone while they’re in the room. Besides, not everyone’s as scared of fire as you, so he might be used to it; I know I am. And if he had reacted any worse, that fire might’ve caused more damage than his Buizel could manage.”
“I guess…” Rikalia said. She looked around her trainer at Galian, and watching him observing his healing wounds under the veil of water. She crawled over Iruni’s lap and got a closer look, curious about the nature of the animated water.
“I’m sorry my gift to Karros inadvertently startled you, Rikalia. It seems bad luck follows me wherever I go.” Galian motioned to his Buizel, finishing up the Aqua Ring treatment, “Pardon the late introduction, but this is my Buizel, Amé.”
Iruni spoke up, “She’s not from around here, is she?”
“Correct, she is from my home region. My luck uncharacteristically turned favorable on eve of my departure from Sinnoh. I found her almost as I left the region, or rather, she found me. She’s a natural at utilizing her Aqua Ring, an inherited move found in her lineage, I think. Which reminds me, Rikalia,” he said, looking at the Sneasel, “you might have some latent potential as well.”
As Galian finished his sentence, a loud ringing started coming from his coat, turning the heads of everyone in the room.
“Excuse me,” Galian said. He unfolded the coat and began checking the many pockets on its inside, and after a few more repeats of the beeping, he pulled out a black and green PokéGear.
After fumbling with a few buttons on the device, Galian answered the call, “Yes? What about him? Has he done anything? ‘Public’? How do you—… Are you certain? When will it be on? What station? I will, thank you.” He turned to Iruni and spoke in a hard, fast tone, “Iruni, the remote for this television, where is it?”
Going by his previous knowledge of basic hotel rooms, he found the remote in the drawer next to his bed, “Here it is. What’s wrong?”
“Something’s about to be aired on the news. Turn it to INS,” Galian said, turning toward the still-off screen. His Buizel sidled up beside him, questioning her master’s sudden change in tone.
“A bit pushy, isn’t he?” Iruni said under his breath as he powered on the television. He found a small cardboard card listing the channels that were available, and changed the channel to the International News Station. It was currently running a piece on a group of Pokémon activists, claiming that everyone should “liberate” their Pokémon from their “servitude”. This “Team Plasma” as the news reporter called them, had been recently increasing their activity in the Unova region. The screen cut to a home-made video of a rally that was held in Accumula Town:
[The video cut to a close up of a man standing on a stage. The picture zoomed out to show that he was flanked on either side by five young men and women, each adorned in very old looking outfits, almost medieval in nature. The two members at the ends of the precession held flags, bearing a stylized ‘P’ over a ‘Z’-like pattern. The man speaking had pale green hair, wildly trailing down around his shoulder and back. An odd eye-piece covered his right eye.] Iruni thought it looked like a monocle made from a broken pair of gaudy sunglasses, its red visor flashed as a spectator took his picture.
[The man wore a bright and colorful robe with a design that looked like two red eyes. The collar of his robes seemed rather awkward, resembling what some would recognize as the battlements of a castle, but they stayed square on the man’s shoulders as he paced the stage. He spoke in a loud, pleading voice, booming over the speakers at the crowd before him:
[“—must open your eyes, citizens! How long have we kept Pokémon under our control like this? Generations! To you, you see it as the norm, even to the Pokémon; they’ve grown used to the idea! But this isn’t how we’re supposed to live with them! Pokémon are our friends and companions, some even call them family, but not our slaves! Would you force your own brother or your best friend to fight for mere sport? Of course not! That is why you must release your Pokémon! Set them free! What you’re doing isn’t—”]
“What’re we watching this for?” Iruni asked. “This guy’s getting on my nerves…”
“It should be on any moment. A friend of mine said they ran the story earlier today, and this channel reruns its stories all day. It should come up after this…”
The home-video cut away just as the man with green hair concluded his speech, the person filming it putting their camera down and applause could be heard. The news reporter began to wrap up his segment, stating that the group called Team Plasma, while having a few key similarities to groups that had gained power in other regions, has not shown any violent tendencies or been caught in any illegal activity. He finished his report by showing the projected number of Plasma supporters active now, and a week ago: the number had tripled.
The reporter disappeared as a graphic of what looked like an ancient stone pantheon flashed over the screen, but his voice began to read aloud the next segment Galian said in a low voice, “This is it.”
[“Another story coming from Unova today is the resignation of one of the most prestigious ranks in the region. Officials at the Unovan Pokémon League report that they received a letter of resignation from the third seat of Unova’s Elite Four, Dalton Drake.” The image of a man with bright, short, orange hair, and a large larvae-like Pokémon covered in white fur with five red horns surrounding its head sat on his shoulder appeared next to the reporter. The image began to shift between various other pictures and statistics about the ex-Elite Four member.
[“After being appointed in 1993, Fire type master, and Unova native, Dalton Drake held his seat for nearly seven years, where he was an avid supporter of increasing the required age limit of trainers in Unova, until Champion Alder voiced his opposition to the movement.
[“This, along with other public disagreements with the Champion, lead some to believe that Alder is the root cause for Dalton vacating his position, but the two’s strenuous relationship had been well known for some time. Dalton had challenged Alder for the Championship a number of times, each ending in the Fire specialist failing to take the title from Alder.
[“Dalton had been an active member in the Elite Four until the start of this year, where the Fire trainer had been requesting multiple leaves of absence. This resignation comes as no surprise to some, as rumors detailing the nature and reason behind his absence have been circulating.
[“Officials at the Unova League were unable to produce a statement regarding Dalton's replacement, but speculation points to Lady Caitlin, the Frontier Brain of the Battle Castle in Sinnoh. Sources say that she is considering volunteering for the position.” The reporter began to close the story with a few more notable accomplishments that Dalton had achieved.]
“That man…” Galian said, low and almost a whisper.
“Do you know him?”
“I’ve met him before, many times. I… I didn’t expect him to step down from his position. This isn’t like him.”
“I guess you met him on one of his ‘vacations’ then?” Iruni asked. He heard a disappointed grunt behind him; he looked and saw Rikalia staring at the empty fruit container.
“That’s right. While I was still in Sinnoh, and not long after I had caught Amé,” he said as he pet the Buizel's smooth, water-resistant fur. “But he was a harsh and cruel man… Not the kind I would like as an enemy, you could say.”
“Let’s hope you made a good impression then, eh?”
Galian laughed a bit, “Yes, one can only hope. Just as I hope I’ve cleared my name in your minds, Iruni and Rikalia.”
“Don’t worry about it, you’re good by us. I’ve never seen anyone apologize so much.”
“I refuse to leave room for error,” Galian said. He looked out the window for a moment, watching the rain batter and run down the glass. “I seem to have taken enough of your time today, so I should get going. Amé also enjoys being out in the rain, and I wouldn’t want to deny her such good conditions for much longer.”
Galian stood and gathered his belongings, recalling his Buizel into her Dive Ball. Iruni stood and walked him to the door, opening it for him.
“Be careful out there, Galian,” Iruni said. “Oh, that reminds me. It might not be any of my business, but could you tell me your name? Your first name, I mean. I’ll still call you ‘Galian’ if that’s what you want, but I’m just curious.”
The black haired man stared at Iruni with scrutinizing eyes, his expression on the verge of anger. Eventually, he sighed and softened his gaze, “I will, only if you promise to not tell anyone else, and if you confide in me one question as well.”
“Uh… Sure?”
“That scar—that bite mark on your hand…” he whispered, his vision shifting over to the bed for a split second, “Rikalia gave that to you, didn’t she?”
“Oh, that? Yeah, she did. It was somewhat of a misunderstanding back when we first met, but we worked it out.”
Galian looked surprised, and a bit amused, “I see. It seems we have that in common. Very well, I’ll tell you my first name. Coralis. Coralis Odarius Galian is my full name. I trust you with that knowledge,” he said as he turned and started to walk out. He paused just as he exited the door, “Oh,” he said in a whisper, “you may tell Rikalia. I wouldn’t mind if you told her.”
“Oh? Why’d you change your mind?” asked Iruni.
“She, like you, is trustworthy; I’ve determined that from my time with her today. She is also far more forgiving than I was expecting.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean what I say.”
“Well,” Iruni said, “Thanks. I’ll keep your name secret, but why’d you want to know about my hand?”
“That was merely me being curious. I dislike leaving questions unanswered… Now, I’ll be off.” With that, Galian walked down the hall, away from Iruni’s room.
Closing the door, Iruni went back to the bed to find Rikalia attempting to lick any remaining juice from the bottom of the plastic container, “You certainly lightened up once he left.”
“Look,” she said. “I forgive him for being weird, I can tell he meant it when he apologized, but that doesn’t mean I like him.”
“I guess that’s as good as we’re gonna get.” Iruni sat down next to her, “And if you want more Pechas, we can pick some up before we leave town. Don’t go eating the plastic just to get at a few bits of pulp.”
“But they’re so good…” she whined, flopping down onto the bed.
“How many did you eat?”
“Probably most of them. How many were there?”
Iruni looked at the empty container and counted the number of indentations in the plastic, “Twelve. Galian and I each had one for ourselves. So yeah, ten is definitely most of them. You probably should’ve saved some for Karros.”
“But that Galian guy said Kar would like something else anyway, and I would’ve given him some if he wanted any.”
Iruni picked up the empty container and threw it into the garbage can beside the dresser. He went over to his Houndour and picked up the piece of charcoal, “We’re definitely going to test how much this helps. So Kar, you still want to get something to eat for lunch? I know Rika’s spoiled her appetite.”
Karros answered his trainer, punctuating his response with a yawn. Rikalia translated, “He said he’s still tired, and doesn’t really want to head out.”
“We’ve got some food with us; I’ll heat up some Pokémeal for you then.” Iruni walked over to the couch, stepping over a few piles of his belongings, and rooted out a package of microwavable Pokémon food.
“What about you, Iruni?” Rikalia asked as he came back to the bed, the drone of the microwave clashing with the sound of the TV. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“A little bit, so I’ll probably get something out in town. Pizza, fast food, something… or just eat some of the snacks I packed if it means it’s less to carry.”
Rikalia looked to the giant pile of items to her right, “What are you going to do about that?”
“Well,” he said, sitting on the bed, “I’ll probably send some stuff back home. I was going to call Dad once we got in and settled anyway, so I can tell him to be on the lookout for a package of stuff. But I could just put the stuff in storage, which really would be the best thing to do… eh, I’ll figure it out.”
“Are we still going to call Kate?”
“Yeah, I’ll call her after we eat and talk to dad, just in case she has classes,” Iruni said. The microwave beeped, and Iruni got up and took out the platter of food.
“Can I be there with you when you call?” Rikalia asked.
“Sure,” he answered. “I bet you’re going to go right to sleep after you’re done with this, aren’t you Kar?”
His Houndour barked an affirmative and jumped off the bed to eat his lunch. Iruni went back to the bed after he set down the Pokémeal.
“Hey, Iruni?” Rikalia asked as Iruni laid back on the bed.
Iruni stretched on the bed, trying to work out an ache in his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“You said you’d buy some Pechas for me before we left, right?”
Sitting up, he reached out for the remote and turned off the TV, “Sure. We can get some on our way out for lunch if you want some tonight.”
His Sharp Claw Pokémon surprised him with a quick hug, “Thank you.”
“I’m going to have to thank Galian next time I see him. Oh, speaking of, he told me his name and said I can tell you.”
“Really?” Rikalia asked. She came around to Iruni’s side, “What is it?”
“Coralis Odarius Galian. It sounds really…”
“… Like a really old name,” she finished. Iruni nodded in agreement. “But why’d he say I could know it? Did he say me specifically?”
“Yeah, he said he thought you were trustworthy, and that you were a lot more forgiving than he thought you would be.”
Rikalia looked away from him, mouthing the words over once more, “… more forgiving…? Oh!” she suddenly burst into laughter, wrenching Karros’ attention from his meal. “I get it now.”
“What?”
Karros looked up from his food for a moment to ask what she had meant as well.
“Coralis thought I was like the King from that story of his.”
“Do you think so?” Iruni asked.
“Well, a little. I’m obviously not as mean as the ‘original’ King, but I find it funny that he didn’t think I’d forgive him.”
“Did you?”
“Did I what?” she asked.
“Well, you tried to ignore him and almost refused to even talk to him. Did you think you’d forgive him?”
“But—I was… he… shut up,” she looked away, embarrassed.
Iruni tried a few more times to coax her into admitting defeat, but Rikalia’s stubbornness won out. “Fine…”
—————
To Be Continued…
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- 7
- 8
- 9
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The Dark Type