|
|
Post by Cavespider_17 on Apr 12, 2020 13:38:25 GMT
ᚡᚥ
"War is never an option since you just end up negotiating anyway,
just with more people to bury,"
- Elio Lloyd Jackson, Kilgor, 2027
ᚡᚥ
Part 1
Date: 24th June 1989 Kitiku and James sat indoors in the classroom, as Clarence kept an eye on them both. They had decided that they would rather stay warm during the freak weather conditions. James slumped against his desk in an attempt to take a nap.
Kitiku on the other hand had decided to clear the assignments which had been set. He grabbed his Staravia quill and dipped it, cautiously, in the ink. He wrote ‘Name: Kitiku Tak Bryson, Tutor: Lord Clavouro, Town: ‘Ha Fehahra’’, before moving on to the paragraph. He thought for a moment on what to write before deciding on writing about the future and what he would possibly want to do with his life. He was aware that most students wouldn’t be able to write in such a manner, and therefore
would probably score him a good grade. Once he had finished, he carefully blew on the ink to make it dry quicker, before taking out the book for Pokémon care. The assignment for that was to discover what type the Pokémon they owned would be weakest against by drawing the type chart.
“James…” he whispered, making his friend grunt. “What is steel weak against?”
“I am not helping you with this stupid assignment. I don’t like school, and I don’t care about it either. Ask someone who does,” James grunted again.
“Tired James?” Clarence asked as he wandered over to see what the fuss was about.
“Why do you care?” James hissed.
“You have been learning new things for… five hours, six hours now. Your brain is in overload. Taking a nap might be a good idea, so let me know if you want me to get the Litwick to dim down…” Clarence’s voice was soft.
“Are you making fun of me?” James snapped.
“No. If you want to take a nap let me know. You will sleep better if it is darker, even with the light from outside.”
“Sure…” James said, as he turned his head to see the wall.
“Hey Kitiku. Are you feeling a little better?” Clarence moved to face the boy, who nodded without a word. “Silent as ever. You know you can come and talk to me whenever you want, I won’t mind. Hopefully school will help you build your confidence up around people, so you will start to talk more.” He watched as Kitiku started to draw out the type grid, but it quickly became clear, Kitiku was stuck. “Let’s figure this out,” Clarence said, as he sat next to Kitiku, who shuffled over into James’s space. James grunted at being disturbed but quickly ignored them. “Let’s work through this, column by column. If a normal type Pokémon… let’s say… Rattata, was to attack a Tauros. They are of equal strength and they would use moves of equal strength at the same time. Would the Tauros, win, lose or draw?”
Kitiku thought hard for a moment, before signing the word ‘draw’.
“Good, okay, so now Rattata is about to attack a Litleo, would Litleo win? Same rules as before.” Clarence whispered, to avoid disturbing James more. Kitiku signed the world ‘draw’ again. “Do the next few.”
Kitiku looked at the table, and started to fill it in quickly upon Clarence’s basic guidance.
A Lord joined him and the boys in the room. He scowled that James and Kitiku didn’t bow to him as he entered.
“Relax, my Lord. The boys are just tired out. It has been an exceptionally long and hard day for them. James has been snoozing most of lunch break. I am sure they will behave as you teach them mathematics, or at least how to count…”
“I’ll have them sit by household name. That should stop lots of troublemaking,” he said, gruffly, as he tidied himself up. Do you have a list of them by household name?”
“Should be on the desk,” Clarence said, as he stood up. “Well, Hishrak and I are off” Clarence whispered softly.
“Mylious?” a voice shouted across from the bathroom. “Hmm?”
“I read the letter you sent to Clarence,” Lord Piscar said, as he entered the main room.
“My Lord Elite, it is simply a game to him. These savages need to be…”
“These ‘savages’ gave us refuge. Remember?” Lord Piscar sat down at his desk, as his Metagross technology screens whirred away, and produced hundreds of messages for him to read. “Lord Madison was a fool though.”
“Of course. He has no idea what he has coming. His execution will be a spectacle.” Lord Piscar let out a small laugh at his Captain of the Guard’s comment.
“Will you ensure that? Honestly, Mylious, I don’t think he will just stand there and let us arrest him, take him to a grand battlefield where you or I would just run him through. Lord Madison will put up a fight for sure. That is why it is important that we crush any resistance in the youth as soon as possible. They were the first to die…” Lord Piscar pressed his knife against his lip. “Lord Madison used them as shields, like he has with so many people. He believes they should protect him…”
“Shouldn’t they?”
“A ruler protects his people with his life and soul. Else the soul of the leader who neglects his people wanders forward into the dark worlds beyond the abyss…”
“Ignat?” Lord Jackson asked, “The heart of the crack, must be… 1876.”
“You do amuse me my friend. You and your literature. Is there any poem or text you do not know?” Lord Piscar laughed.
Lord Piscar snatched the berry from his desk, and bit into it, before sitting on top of the wooden frame. “Electric stone has been found on a prisoner of war?”
“The very same. She ‘threw it into the river’ apparently. We searched for it for days, but it disappeared. We brutally interrogated her, but she didn’t say much else. She was suffering with trauma anyway. Her Luxray found a few of our Lords and led them to her. She was being crushed by a pillar. Her legs, spine, both arms, and three ribs were broken. Two ribs were twisted out of place.” Lord Piscar squinted at the sound of how painful that was. “Right hand was crushed, and left hand had been broken in several places.” Lord Jackson clenched his fist as he spoke.
“Did she survive the interrogation?”
“Yes, what is wrong?” he smirked
“Fehahra, two Guards got attacked in one night? That seems unhealthy.”
“Shall I send a second letter to Clarence?” Lord Jackson said, eagerly.
“No…” Lord Piscar started to play with his knife once more. “Interference would be preferred, but let’s let Clarence carry out his plans. I am planning to take a tour of the North soon anyway.”
“My Lord Elite, that sounds fun. Crushing those weak minded people, and watching their accused cry and beg for mercy… maybe even my girl will get some action.” Lord Jackson drew his knife and ran his finger carefully along the blade.
“We wait for Rei to make his move. It is a game of Cyriok.”
“Of course. Would you fancy a game?”
“You mean do I fancy losing?” Lord Piscar laughed again. “Why not? Maybe I’ll win for a change.”
“Not a chance,” Lord Jackson said, firmly but smug.
“Want to raise the stakes a little?” Lord Piscar said, as he placed the case of 40 pieces onto the board.
“Hmm… why not?” Lord Jackson smirked, as he lit a cigarette, before lighting a second one, and tucking it behind his ear.
“If I win, I get to interrogate our other interesting prisoner myself… It has been a while and I honestly would enjoy a break from my responsibilities. Also, your son gets three throws with a knife against you, without your knife-proof vest. How is that?” Lord Piscar said, his voice became serious.
“That is the best you could come up with? Okay. My turn. If I win, I get to interrogate the prisoner with whatever methods I want from the start.”
“You do that anyway,” Lord Piscar interrupted.
“So I do. I enjoy watching them squirm. Let’s see… if I win then, I get to kill Hanson Rei myself, if he isn’t already dead, and you owe me a grand bottle of dritze.” Lord Jackson, said, as he puffed his cigarette several times.
“Fair enough.” Lord Piscar offered him a hand, and they started their game of Cyriok.
Part 2
Specs of rain slapped against the leaves, drizzling the drops down onto the cloth coating over a tent. The Mareep wool soaked up each drip, dragging it through the thick cloak and squeezing it out the other side. A plop of water landed on the Falinks leather gloves, which were brown in colour, with little red colourings in places from the Pokémon’s spine. The man who wore them stretched his fingers as he tugged them down onto his hands snuggly. “So, Miro, did you bring me the books?” the man gruffly asked. “Yes, my Lord Captain,” Miro replied, running his fingers through his curly puffed up brown hair. “Excellent, give it to me,” the Northern Lord Captain said, stretching out his left hand while glimpsing at the black man, who was now shuffling nervously, with his dark brown eyes. The binding of the book was placed in his leather glove. “I assume the message has reached the front line,” he said, looking back at Miro had knelt down onto the soft blanketed floor. “Kapora,” Lord Madison said, coming into the tent. “What is the news from the front?” The Northern Lord Captain looked at Lord Madison and with a cold grin he said, “The news is bad, we must evacuate. The people of the town will just slow our evacuation and consume the food, water and other resources we can use to our advantage.” Lord Madison pushed his thick glasses back up his nose. “Then what do you propose?” Kapora thought for a moment and whispered, “I think we trap the South there and weaken them. Use the town as bait of some kind.” He put his brown satchel-like jacket on over his green shirt and green tie. “My Falinks and I shall cut down some trees and create some barricades and traps. Shmitty town must fall in grandeur.” Miro sighed silently, slipping out of the tent and ran towards the edge of the camp. ‘Everyone in Shmitty town… I must get them out.’
James threw his Poké ball onto the grass hard, clipping the latch and releasing Okta. She screeched at him, before playfully pressing her face against his. He raised his right hand and stroked her gently, before trying to wrap his arms around her head to hug her. James was relieved school was over. He had found the last few hours tiresome and boring. All he wanted to do was battle with Okta by his side, despite being told he would have to wait one more day. The two were being watched by Sutton through the corner of his eye. His main focus was on Kitiku, who he had promised to teach to catch Pokémon, or at least better his aim. He wondered where Lioa could have gotten to, since the group was almost always together. “Hey, Mister Sutton?” James shouted at him, and Okta screeched in his face. “Please don’t do that… Onix spit is so hard to wash out…” Sutton said, as he tried to remove the spit off his jacket. Okta laughed a deep laugh at him, before raising James up above the ground and placing him on her back. “James get down from there this instant!” “Why?” “It is dangerous…” Sutton started. “Can we battle? Please?” James asked. “I’ll get down if you agree.” “I do not negotiate with troublemakers,” Sutton said, as Kitiku nudged him, and hugged him. “Why can’t you be more like Kitiku?” “I’m not boring,” James called back, as Okta started to pat her tail on the ground, “Besides, Captain Bourbabel said no battling until Sunday,” Sutton added. “Okta and I want to battle now though! The South sucks. All you ever do is nag, and be boring, and make stupid rules, and then arrest people for breaking the stupid rules, and then…” James started to deliberately try and wind Sutton up. “James, it isn’t like that. Okta, down!” Incaresta Sutton commanded. The Onix obeyed, and lowered her head to his height. “Good girl, now put James do-” Okta used screech on him before he could finish. “That is incredibly immature. James get down now, or I will arrest you.” “How?” “I have a Fearow…” Incaresta shook his head, “Can we battle? Please Mister Sutton? Afterwards Kitiku and I will go home, eat dinner and go to bed…” James shouted, as he sat on top of Okta’s head. “Down. Now. Last warning James.” Sutton’s face turned serious. “I don’t think I will, because the South can’t tell me what to do,” James spat, Okta copied him, and spat, coating Incaresta in Onix spit. “Fine…” Sutton turned to the shy boy who had hidden behind a tree when the Onix started to screech and spit. “Hey, do you want to go home Kitiku?” The boy then shuffled out from behind the tree, on his crutches, and nodded. “Mister Sutton?” James shouted. “Yes James?” he said, irritated and stressed. “If I come down, can we battle?” “No James,” he said, coldly, as he struggled to say the boy’s name. Incaresta turned his back once more to the boy, and started to walk in the opposite direction with Kitiku. As they started to walk past several of the large trees, Clarence appeared, and walked towards James, who was still sitting on top of Okta’s head. “James, weren’t you supposed to be somewhere?” Clarence stood, firmly. He was scowling, an expression James hadn’t really seen the man ever express before. That was the moment he realised he was in serious trouble. “My office in the town, perhaps? Sorting files alphabetically, like you were told to do after school for causing all that trouble yesterday.” “Okta… we need to get out of here…” James whispered to his Onix, who he rubbed the head of, while he sat. “Come down this instant. We need to have a talk.” Clarence wasn’t surprised when James shook his head. “Come on James. Let’s be reasonable,” he sighed. “This can’t continue. You can’t just cause trouble and not face the consequences.” “Make me come down!” James shouted back. He watched as Hishrak appeared next to the officer. “If it was Barook we could knock him out of the sky…” James whispered to Okta. “This isn’t fair… Hishrak is too strong!” The boy then shouted at Clarence, who shrugged. “Use psychic, lift the boy in the air, and hold him steady. Then use a second psychic attack, while holding James, on the Onix. Do not overdo it though, she has only just started to recover.” Clarence said, calmly to Hishrak, who rolled his eyes at the orders, before sending a psychic pulse to lift James in the air. “Put me down! This isn’t fair! Okta use dig!” Okta screeched in panic as James floated in the air. She ignored James and started to lash out at Hishrak. Hishrak’s psychic attack on her seemingly did nothing, as she charged towards him enraged. She swung her tail at him, slamming him in the chest and sending him hurtling across the ground, before screeching again. “Okta use dig!” James shouted out again, desperately. However, she didn’t listen again. She swung once more at Hishrak. “Protect!” The Alakazam immediately put up a protective field around himself and his trainer. “Now psychic!” Okta slammed her tail against the protective field again and again. As she did the energy started to crack around it. Hishrak let go of the field to launch a psychic attack, but was hit once more with her tail. He flew backwards once more, past Clarence and into a tree, bashing his head and rendering him unconscious. Okta’s yellow body then flew forward towards the Alakazam, who had lost focus and flung James into the air. James started to plummet towards the ground. His fall was slowed slightly by the lingering psychic field. “Barook catch him!” Clarence tossed his ball to the side, snapping open the latch, and the Braviary that had been napping inside shot out faster than a bullet. Okta slammed the ground with her tail, breaking it, before spinning around and shooting rocks up in the air at the Braviary. Barook simply banked to the right before swooping up and diving and grabbed James as he hovered two metres from the ground. Okta stopped attacking Barook in fear of hitting James. Her attention turned to Clarence and Hishrak, who was still unconscious. “Okta help me!” James shouted, as he started to panic more and more. She let out an earth shattering screech, before swinging her tail at Hishrak. Okta wasn’t battling to train anymore, she had become so frightened and angry, that she wanted to kill the one who had ‘harmed’ her trainer. She raised her tail up high, and swung towards Hishrak, narrowly missing him due to her tail hitting a tree instead. She raised it once more to swing. “Okta that is enough,” Clarence said, as he stood in front of her. She screeched at him. “Enough.” She raised her head and stretched before turning to see Barook carefully carrying James back to Clarence. She then slumped her head back down against the ground, and looked up at the man who had saved her trainer. Clarence reached out a hand and placed it on her head, and slowly started to stroke her. “Nothing bad will happen to him, I promise.” She let out a soft grumble, “2.5 metres per second that is child’s play. Right Barook?” Barook let out a cry, as he carefully placed James back on his feet. “Can I go again?” James said, to try and wind Clarence up. “Once Hishrak is feeling better.” He turned around and returned his Alakazam to his ball. “You left him out his ball, unconscious?” James tilted his head, “You were priority, if you hit the ground from that high up, at that angle, you would have broken countless bones, or even be dead.” Clarence started to scold. “As for Okta, please get her under control.” James returned her to her ball, whispering something to her, and placing her in his pocket. “James… I am being serious. You could have been killed, again.” “She beat Hishrak though, right?” James smiled at him, only to be met with serious eyes. “She is dangerous at the moment. You cannot control her, but you have owned her your entire life, and hers. You behaved irresponsibly. For that, I will have to note it on your record.” Clarence crossed his arms, as he spoke calmly. “Also you are being formally arrested, for irresponsible Pokémon ownership, and endangering lives.” “What? No, that isn’t fair. I don’t want to be arrested. You are mean to us, and it’s not fair! Southern jerk!” James shouted out as he tried to run away. Clarence grabbed him by the scruff of his neck as he attempted to flee. “With that, any attempt of getting, as you say, ‘the dragon’s egg’, has gone,” Clarence scolded James more, “James, you have to learn that you can’t get everything you want, and you certainly can’t disobey the law. The laws were put in place, by Lord Piscar, for a reason.” “Yeah, because he likes to torture us, and make us miserable.” James sulked. He watched Barook hover overhead, “not that I would break under torture, I am not scared of anything.” “Torture you? I think you wouldn’t last five seconds.” Clarence nudged him. “Would too. I am tough,” James said, trying to puff himself up. “Oh really?” Clarence loosened his grip on the boy, who seemed to now be happily walking beside him. “Yeah, Lord Jackson doesn’t scare me. I would tear him up piece by piece and then Okta would beat his Houndoom, and then we would be the best battlers ever!” James swung his fists at the air, before tripping over a tree root and falling flat on his face and skidding across the ice. Clarence offered him a hand, which James accepted. “I see,” Clarence smiled at James’s attempted defiance, and clumsiness. “That hurt,” James said, looking at his cut on his wrist. “You wouldn’t last five seconds. That is nothing,” Clarence said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small canister of Chansey egg, and health strips. “Let me see.” James cautiously showed him his wrist. Clarence took it and sprayed it twice, before going to put a strip on it. “Ouch! Why did you do that? Now it hurts even more,” James hissed. “Cleaning and healing it,” the man responded, in his usual calm tone. “Besides, how would you know what torture wounds are like? You have probably tortured loads of people, because that is what the South does!” The boy started to work himself up once more. “No, but the Southern civil war did bring out the worst in a lot of people. I did see and experience some things I would rather forget,” Clarence sighed, as he tried to supress memories. “So, what to do with you this time…” “What do you mean?” James asked. “Well, you didn’t turn up to your punishment, and you are being arrested…” Clarence started, making James cross his arms and start to sulk again. “A night in a cell perhaps?” “What? That’s not fair. I didn’t mean to deliberately not turn up,” James shouted at him, angrily. “It is the fairest thing I can think of. The other option is to give you to the Southern Guard… and I don’t want to do that, and I don’t think you want me to do that either.” Clarence watched as James hung his head, “No, sir,” he whispered. “I don’t want to go to prison either though. Is there anything else?” “One night, that is all. After that you can go back to the Bryson household.” Clarence gently grabbed James by the scruff of his neck once more, aware that the boy was thinking about trying to run away from his problems. James started to shake his head, before squirming. “No squirming James, or I will make it two nights and Wednesday.” “That is really unfair! Let go of me!” James started to try and kick him, before attempting to grab the Captain’s hand and force him to let go. “Last warning to stop, James,” Clarence scolded, James wasn’t interested in listening though, as he started to squirm even more. “That’s it. You will spend tonight in a cell, then after school Sutton will pick you up and take you back to the cell tomorrow, and then on Tuesday at night, myself or Sutton will pick you up from the Bryson household and you will spend the whole of Wednesday in a cell. I have really tried to be fair, but you are unwilling to work with me.” “Wait!” James shouted. “I’ll stop!” “Too late,” Clarence said. As he did he noticed a shift in James’s behaviour. The boy had gone quiet, almost too quiet, as if his brain was thinking it over again and again in a loop. Clarence sighed, “James, why do you think you are being punished?” “You are unfair and a psychopath from the South,” James said, upset. “No. Well I would hope I am not a psychopath…” He smiled, trying to make James smile back, but received a sad look, “You are being punished because you broke the rules, and then insulted me, and then broke the rules and disobeyed me again.” “So?” “So, you need to learn that this isn’t how you should act.” “I am an adult, I can do as I please!” James shouted back at Clarence. “No, you are a child and you will not do as you please. You have another eleven years until you turn twenty five. Those eleven years should be the best of your life, but… you also have to understand that these eleven years are there so you can grow as a person,” Clarence said calmly while scolding, as James shuffled over to him. “I am cold…” James whispered, to which Clarence took off his midnight blue jacket, which hung loosely around his shoulders, undone, and wrapped it around James’ shoulders. “Thank you,” James whispered again, as they reached the office block. “Keep it on overnight, it will keep you warm. At least the cell block is two floors into the basement, and there is heating and cooling. I am going to need to take Okta from you.” Clarence’s statement immediately made James shake his head and hold Okta close to his chest, in her ball. “Rules are rules.” James shook his head again. “She is mine…” “I know.” “I won’t let you take her from me.” He pressed her closer against him, as he locked the latch firmly in place. “Please? I won’t break any rules if you let me keep her on me.” Clarence shook his head, as he opened his hand to indicate that it wasn’t up for negotiation. James started to stress, “I promise, please let her stay with me. I want her to stay with me. I…” James felt his side ache. “James, are you okay? Let me see,” Clarence said, firmly. “Only if she can stay with me,” James said, adamant he could get his way. “Rules are rules. Now let me see.” “No, you won’t let her stay with me. I want to see Kitiku’s doctor. At least he will side with me. He is a Southern jerk, like you, but at least he is nice to Kitiku and helps him,” James spat. “Very well… but I think he will agree with me.” The Young Guard’s feet sunk deep into the mud, as his boots covered in mud. He muttered under his breath a little as he felt the warmth from the sun beat down onto his back. The vines and thorns of the nearby overgrowth leaned into the worn dirt path, catching the tips of his laces which had stuck together as the mud dripped down off them slowly. He looked up at the sky, taking in a deep breath, his fingers wiggled a little from side to side as he placed his feet firmly on the ground as he came to a halt. “Hey Igraki, keep up,” he said, tilting his head to the side. Behind him he could hear the slopping of mud as the Fraxure came sprinting up the muddy path, plodding its little feet as it did. It stopped alongside him to sniff the air before it took in a short breath, narrowing its big blue eyes and snorting a small puff of fire from its nostrils. “Tired too? These patrols can get long sometimes; I understand they are necessary to do, but I wonder why we always get the shortest tooth, besides, this place is a little off the beaten track, I suppose it was an old traveller’s path once,” Anayak said, walking forward once more as his eyes drifted to Igraki. Igraki’s ears picked up a sound, making him turn his thick scaly head to the side and look around. Unfortunately, having inbuilt ears made it hard for the Fraxure to pinpoint the sound exactly, however, with his long claws he reached up and started scratching at his ears. A buzzing, crackling sound sunk deep into his brain, constantly beating and humming. Igraki twitched, sprinting into the thick greenery to his right. “Igraki? Stop that!” Anayak shouted, chasing after the Fraxure. His footing started to slip as he rushed into the overgrowth after his best friend. His uniform caught on the thistles and thorns as he pushed through them, tearing parts of his jacket. Little fragments of blue Mareep wool hung off of the branches in his wake. With every step a buzz crept into his ear, ringing out. He swivelled around and dug his heal into the marshy grass. The mud slipped and he waved his arms around trying to regain balance as the buzzing sound turned into a coarse grumbling. Anayak shook his head a little, pinching the top of his nose in between his index figure and thumb as his head started to pulse. A sickening feeling churned in his stomach as his blue eyes glanced at the overgrowth as his left hand dived into his pocket. Grazing the tips on the Falinks parchment and carefully pulled it out, the words inked into the skin had faded a little, but still legible. Anaya’s hands started to shake, his orders from Lord Clavouro were clear, to investigate the rumours of resistance activity in the outskirts – more accurately a sighting of Hanson Rei, but now he knew his priorities shifted. A rustle from up ahead made him draw his knife out, squeezing the wooden handle tightly, ‘Don’t engage… don’t engage,’ he thought, plodding through the entangled branches that were now overhead, blotting out the sunlight in places. He stepped down on an uneven stone, twisting his knee. Quickly he reached up and grabbed one of the overhead branches, desperately trying to break his fall. “Aah!” he cried out, gritting his teeth as a little blood dripped down the palm of his hand. He wiped his land on his trouser leg and looked up, as the buzzing became louder and louder. Something caught the corner of his eye; a grey brick peered out amongst the mud. “Huh?” he muttered. ‘What is that? I don’t remember a building being here – at least under the town and route plans.’ He pulled himself back upright, drawing his knife. “Come on, Igraki, cut through these branches,” he shouting, before muttering, “Where are you Igraki?” Anayak heard footsteps coming up ahead. Kicking his legs, he shuffled himself back towards some of the heavily leafed bushes, coating his blue trouser legs in mud. He held his breath as silence dawned amidst the buzzing. Suddenly he heard a whisper. “Who needs you Anayak? No one, that’s who. All you do is screw up, like you did back home.” The boy scowled as the voice echoed in his head. ‘No, that’s not true.’ “Oh, but Anayak, you killed your sister. It is your fault she was never born. If you hadn’t gotten sick, she wouldn’t have gone to Marsten Hall in your place…” “No!” he shouted out, tightening his fists. “I did-” he felt a hand grab his mouth, as a man crouched down beside him. “Make another sound and it will be the last one you make,” the man said, dragging Anayak to his feet. Anayak twisted his head looking back at his attacker. The burn marks on the man’s face were distinctive and the boy’s stomach started to churn. With his boots he kicked a little, trying to break free. “Oh, Mister Merge, why couldn’t you just stick to your Lord’s orders?” Grektox said, laughing a little at the Young Lord’s squirms. “What do you want to do with him, Hanson? Kill him?” Hanson wrapped his arms around the boy’s neck, tightening his grip. “No, I think killing him would be pointless, after all, that makes his suffering end.” Anayak squeaked a little, tearfully trying to breathe. “Now, now,” Hanson said, touching the Guard’s face making him shudder, dragging him along the verge and into the ruins of the old outpost, releasing the boy’s throat and with a tight grip he grabbed his wrists, twisting them behind his back and pushing him forwards in front of him. The steps seemed to last forever as Anayak reached the bottom and was dragged into the darkened corridor. He caught a glimpse of a cold red stare in the distance as he was taken into a small room. The door slammed behind them, and he was thrown backwards against the wall. “Ugh,” he grunted, looking back up terrified at the moment the sound escaped his lips. He tucked his knees in and shrunk himself down in size. Hanson whistled sharply; the air went cold and the little light that was in the room vanished, leaving Anayak in tears. “Please, please…” “That is enough, Hanson,” a voice said, entering the room, a cloak drifting over his shoulders and a brown hood over his face. “Sir?” the boy stuttered, trying to pinpoint the voice he had heard once before. “Why couldn’t you just follow the orders you were given and stayed out of my way?” the man barked. “I-I-I didn’t mean to disobey, I am sorry, please, please, sir, send me home – I won’t tell anyone.” He shivered in place, feeling his skin become layered in Goosebumps. “I won’t tell Lord Clavouro you are here, I will report nothing,” he sniffled. Hanson bent down beside him, drawing his knife and gripping it tightly in his hand. With the sharpened blade he slashed it downwards against the boy’s cheek, letting the blood dribble down his cheek. His eyes were glowing a deep purple as he reached to his neck and pulled out the Poison stone as his smile twisted a little. “You are now injured, aren’t you little boy?” He rubbed the blood of the boy against the tip of the poison stone. The Young Guard shivered once more. “I am n-not little,” he stuttered, looking back up to the Guard who was smirking at the situation. As he glanced at the man their faces merged into a simple blur, the moment he looked away he felt the memories of their appearance escape him, as if they were never there. Their voices were distorted in his mind, he couldn’t place them anymore. “Please, make this stop, don’t change my memories!” “I am not changing your memory, I am simply… making you want to forget.” “How is that any different?” the boy spat. “One is an active act; one is an indirect act; you will forget on your own,” Grektox said, coming in to join the group with Hanson’s Gengar levitating behind him.” The boy’s eyes started to dull, staring forward, almost lifeless. “Excellent,” the cloaked man said, pulling down his hood and turning to Grektox. “What now, Lloyd?” “That is my Lord to you!” he barked back. “No matter. Put the town under hypnosis, create toxic clouds, do whatever you need to do. We need to bring Piscar here, once he is here, I’ll have my chance. Hanson took the stone off from around his neck, placing it over the boy’s head. “Hypnosis,” he said. The Gengar jumped around a little, aiming at the boy’s dreary eyes. “Use your lifeforce to create the clouds, dictate the population into a trance and make them… go for a walk out of town, stand them in the canyon for all I care. Get them out of my way, and if you are lucky you will go down in history as one of those who ended the reign of Aaron Piscar.” “Hanson, kill any Guards or soldiers who aren’t affected. Piscar cannot have backup. I doubt he would send Mylious, or bring him with him… given his injuries.” “Oh but of course,” Hanson Rei replied, waving his arms in a mocking bow. “It will take a few days to get the power required, after all, we don’t wish to… kill our victim before it’s too soon.” “Very well,” Lloyd said, walking away.
Part 3
Lioa sat down at the table as Vesit and his mother poured the soup into his and Andrew’s wheat bowls. Lioa was starving, since Lord Clavouro had stopped him eating lunch. His mind focused in on the steam coming from the thick bowl.
“How was school?” Vesit asked, “Andrew, you first.”
“Oh, school was great. I made a few friends, and our tutor was really nice to us. He didn’t get mad when we made mistakes, because he thinks we are going to struggle already. Then for mathematics, the Lady we had teaching us was really nice too.” Andrew shoved soup in his mouth. “She says I am clever, and should easily be able to pass the exams for the Southern Castle in mathematics, and be able to join when I turn fifteen to sixteen.” He straightened the scarf Vesit had given him, as he sat up proudly.
“That is wonderful Andrew, good boy. If you could make it into the Southern Castle as a student your possibilities for a high job are almost endless. What about you Lioa?” Vesit nudged him. Lioa shrugged. “Lioa…”
“School was…” He felt a minor burning pain still from the truth serum. “School was frustrating. My tutor is a jerk, and mathematics was stupid, and Pokémon care is being taught by Captain Smart-Arse.” Lioa quickly then moved his hands to cover his mouth again. Vesit scowled at him. “I’ll go to my room…” Lioa got up and attempted to flee to his room, embarrassed by how he had forcibly answered the question.
“Lioa, sit down.” Vesit demanded, and the boy turned around embarrassed.
“Look, I don’t want you in my life. You are not my father, you will never be my father and having you here is making me miserable. Your stupid Hippottas as always under my feet, and the South is stupid. Long live Lord Madison!” His mother shot a
glare at him, as he shouted his feelings.
“Lioa, you are in so much trouble…” she started.
“Why do you care? Let me rephrase that, you don’t care. You didn’t love father, you never did. It was a lie. You are a traitor the same as anyone else who obeys the South. Come on Andrew, let’s go.” Lioa said, coldly.
“I like Vesit,” he replied, “He hugs me, and will read to me, and he plays with me… father never did any of those things. To him, I didn’t exist because you were born first. Even though Vesit isn’t our father, he has spent more time with me, and he isn’t a bad person.”
“What was that?” Lioa snapped. “My little brother is a traitor as well. That’s great. Life in the Takui household can’t get any better!” He shouted, as he stormed upstairs and slammed the bedroom door.
“I suppose now isn’t a great time to mention it…” Vesit said, quietly under his breath, as he hugged Andrew.
Date: 25th June 1989 James sat in the corner of the cell on the floor. He was sobbing and sulking, as he held the jacket closely to his body. Lord Ikur had sided against him, which made him feel angry. Now he felt helpless. Clarence, who was concerned by the rapid change in behaviour from James after his Onix had been confiscated, sat on the bed in the cell, Hishrak hovered next to him. Upon the Lord deciding James’s Onix would not be joining him in a cell, James had refused to allow the Lord to check his side, and had even started to shout threats and kicked him. Which in turn had angered the Lord.
“James, why don’t you sit on the bed?” Clarence said, softly, but the boy shook his head, and continued to sob and sulk. “Why don’t we wrap you up warm so you feel a little better?” James once again shook his head. “There is no need to cry, once morning is here you can go outside and play with Okta, please calm down. It will be fine.”
The boy shook his head, and Clarence got up and pulled him up, James pressed his head into his chest.
“I promise I won’t do anything, please let me have her. I don’t feel safe without her,” James whispered.
“James, you were given fair warning to stop several times. Why don’t you feel safe? I won’t let anyone hurt you,” Clarence replied, realising he may have to sit up all night to ensure James felt safe.
“Rei is coming back isn’t he?”
“Rei survived the fire at Marsten Hall, yes. However, why would that mean he is coming back? I mean, if he is your father then I understand you worrying about him being arrested but…”
“He isn’t. He is going to kill me…” James squeezed Clarence’s hand. “Master Mainstenhill… it must have been Rei who attacked that Guard.”
“Why would he do that? That seems bizarre. Either way, I promise I won’t let him do that to you. Okay? Besides, you are a pain in the neck of a Girafarig, who would want to actively make themselves have more of a problem. Hmm?” Clarence answered jokingly. Hoping to make the scared boy smile, just a little.
However, James shrugged to Clarence’s question, looking up at Clarence with worried eyes. The dimness of the room seemed to darken further in his eyes with every second that passed without his Okta in his hands. James was overcome with a swarming feeling of helplessness, which sunk down inside his stomach. “What if he already has though?” he whispered.
“The pain in your side… how did you come by it?” Clarence said, as he helped James lie down on the bed.
“Gengar bite,” James whispered.
As he did Clarence’s face turned white. “Let me see it. This is important James. Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Clarence pressed, as James lifted up his shirt to reveal a small purple bruise at the top of his leg, “That doesn’t look too bad at the moment, although, it needs an antidote as soon as possible.”
James shook his head. “I was bitten on the lower leg…” James said, uncomfortably.
“We need to get you an antidote, now. That is a lot of poison. When were you bitten? Truth now.”
“Day before we met you…” James whispered, upset. “Can I have Okta? I feel scared.”
Clarence ignoring his plea, deeply concerned reached out and touched James's head, and said, “I will be back in a minute. Lie down, don’t move.”
“Y-yes, sir…” James said, nervously, as he rested his head on the bed, and wrapped himself up tighter. He stared at the ceiling, as he started to miss Okta more and more. He jolted up when he heard Lord Ikur and Clarence return. Lord Ikur seemed concerned, as he wandered over to James and went to place his hand on his forehead. “No. I don’t want to be touched, I want Okta back!” James started to shout, immediately becoming stressed.
“James, calm down,” Clarence said, calmly and softly.
“No! I want Okta, I don’t want to be alone,” James shouted at Clarence, before diving off the bed and tucking himself under it.
“James… this is irrational…” Clarence crouched down next to the bed to try and reason with him.
“The boy is terrified, but why?” the Lord asked in Elkrat, “He is behaving exceptionally irrationally over me just having a look at the injury,”
“I don’t think that is what he is afraid of,” Clarence replied in Colrat, before laying down next to the bed to see James, who had buried his head in the jacket. “James, if you come out I will let you hold Okta until Lord Ikur is done. That is fair, isn’t it?”
“No blood taking, and I get to hold Okta,” James shouted, in an attempt to reason with the Lord and the officer.
“I have to, I need to see what type of antidote he can have, since a few blood types require a stronger or weaker dosage.” The Lord crossed his arms, and pushed his glasses back onto his face, as he refused to speak Colrat once more.
“You get to hold Okta and that is it.” Hishrak readied himself to move the bed, since he knew James’s response to his trainer’s statement.
“No blood, and Okta,” James hissed.
“Hishrak, move the bed please,” Clarence asked his friend, who immediately moved the bed to the opposite wall. James scrambled backwards and ended up in the corner of the room. “James, come on. There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of. I promise it will be fine.” He pulled James up, and walked with him back to the examination room. James laid down on his back, and Clarence crouched down next to him once more, as the Lord started to tug his shirt to see the poison markings.
“Can I hold Okta?” James whispered.
“No, because you didn’t do as you were…” Clarence watched as James’s stress levels started to rise once more. “It will be fine, I promise.”
“No… I want her. I am scared. You are a bad person, you want me to be scared. Let me have her back!” James shouted at Clarence, upset.
“If you help Lord Ikur have a look, rather than being limp, I will let you hold her.” James sat up, and pulled his shirt off, before taking off his shoes and trousers.
“How are you not dead?” the Lord said, immediately. “That poison has spread across the upper half of your leg and into your kidney and appendix… is that the ground stone?”
James shrugged at his question.
Clarence reached into his pocket and handed the Onix over to the boy, who quickly started to hold her against his chest protectively, much to the irritation of the Lord.
“Fake,” Clarence said, quickly, “The real one has been missing for a long time.”
“The poison in this boy is strong. Gengar bites are usually not so destructive,” the Lord said, as he injected James’ arm and drew blood from him, before forcing the boy to lay down, and rest his head against the pillow. “Your blood type is B+. Which, unfortunately, means you cannot have the antidote I have easy access to, since it contains traces of seeds and other things that may make you feel a little worse. The best treatment for you at the moment is aromatherapy. A few of the Chansey owned by the other doctors know the move, so you will be getting treatment. It will also make you relax for the first time in your uptight little life,” the Lord said.
“Can I put my shirt back on now? It is cold,” James asked, somewhat bored.
“To be honest it may be better if you don’t for now. Especially since aromatherapy will work better if the point of illness is exposed,” Clarence said, before Lord Ikur could. “I am no doctor, but I know about certain things.”
James yawned as the stress of the situation drained him, weighing him down leaving him unable to see beyond the disaster of where he was.
“James, you can’t sleep during treatment, it will simply wake you up.”
“I’m tired, and so is Okta…” James started.
“Then she should get some rest,” Clarence opened his hand to take her once more, “Examination is over, time to give her back.”
“Five more minutes?” James asked, holding her tighter than ever, “Please sir?”
“Five more minutes.” Clarence loosely placed his jacket back over the boy’s shoulders.
James nodded, as his fingers squeezed hold of the capsule tighter. He wasn't going to let go, he had decided, even after the time was up. His heart beated calmer, as his eyes started to close. With both hands he rubbed the top of the capsule in a petting motion, imagining he was stroking Okta's body and not just the ball.
“Okay, Hishrak, carry him please. He needs all the rest he can get.” Hishrak agreed, and gently lifted the boy into a hover. “Thank you Lord Ikur for your time.”
The Lord shrugged. “I will create a supplement for him to take as well,” he said in Elkrat, his voice was muffled by the hand he had wiped his lip with. “Hopefully, James will be feeling better in a few days.”
|
|
