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Chapter 34: Other Related Information
Daomu Biji: Wu Xie’s Private Notes

001 I Have The Fish

(A group photo of ten people with the words “I have the fish” written on it is attached below)

How many mysteries are hidden in this photo?

002 Qimen Dunjia

The diagram of the eight gates is below. The eight gates are: Rest (Xiumen, “休门”), Life (Shengmen, “生门”), Injury (Shangmen, “伤门”), Failure (Dumen, “杜门”), Pleasure (Jǐngmen, “景门”), Death (Simen, “死门”), Fear (Jīngmen, “惊门”), and Prosperity (Kaimen, “开门”).

The legends of Qimen Dunjia:

What is “Qimen Dunjia”? It is composed of three concepts: “Qi” (奇), “Men” (门), and “Dunjia” (遁甲). (1)

“Qi” includes three things: Yi (乙), Bing (丙) and Ding (丁). (2)

“Men” includes eight things: Xiu (休), Sheng (生) , Shang (伤), Du (杜) , Jǐng (景), Si (死), Jīng (惊), and Kai (开). (3)

“Dun” means “hiding”.

“Jia” refers to the six Jia (六甲): Jiazi (甲子), Jiaxu (甲戌), Jiashen (甲申), Jiawu (甲午), Jiachen (甲辰), and Jiayin (甲寅). (4)

“Dunjia” is the most noble among the ten Heavenly Stems and has hidden meanings. It is hidden under the “Six Yi” (六仪), which include: Wu (戊), Ji (己), Geng (庚), Xin (辛), Ren (壬), and Gui (癸). (5)

The principles of Dunjia are that Jiazi hides under Wu (甲子戊), Jiaxu hides under Ji (甲戌己), Jiashen hides under Geng (甲申庚) , Jiawu hides under Xin (甲午辛), Jiachen hides under Ren (甲辰壬), and Jiayin hides under Gui (甲寅癸).

They also come with nine planets: Tianpeng (天蓬), Tianren (天任), Tianchong (天冲), Tianfu (天辅), Tianying (天英), Tianrui (天芮), Tianzhu (天柱), Tianxin (天心), Tianqin (天禽). (6)

The divination of Qimen Dunjia is mainly divided into three parts: Heaven plate, Gate plate, and Earth plate. They symbolize three styles.

The nine palaces in the Heaven plate have the nine planets.

The eight palaces of the middle plate (the second circle according to the picture) have eight gates.

The eight palaces of the Earth plate represent eight positions that can’t be moved.

At the same time, each palace in the Heaven and Earth plate is assigned a specific Qi (Yi, Bing, Ding) and Six Yi (Wu, Ji, Gen, Xin, Ren, Xing, Ren).

As a result, people can use the Six Yi, Three Qi, and Nine Planets to predict things like relationships, traits, the future, or even choose auspicious times and places according to the specific time and date.

This constitutes a unique category in Chinese mystical culture — Qimen Dunjia.

003

Human-faced snakes (with related illustrations)

Looking at these things, I highly suspect that humans are descendants of snakes.

There is a strange phenomenon in ancient Chinese history where a large number of records about gods and spirits are related to snakes.

In the “Classics of Mountains and Seas”, of the 454 figures that are recorded in the text, 138 are in the shape of a snake. Some of the gods and spirits mentioned who have snake-like bodies include Fuxi, Nüwa, the Yellow Emperor, and even the Queen of the West.

(I was particularly surprised that the Queen of the West had a human head and a snake body in the original records, and was depicted the same as Fuxi and Nüwa.)

According to current general speculations, this image of human-faced snakes was derived from tribal totems. It was possible that the Queen of the West changed from having a human head and a snake’s body to having a human head and a leopard’s body because the attributes in her tribe had changed.

In other words, maybe the Queen of the West was originally a member of Fuxi’s tribe, but something happened and she started her own tribe in the west where she reigned.

Whatever the case, we won’t be able to know what exactly happened.

Human-faced snakes also represent the male genitalia, especially a very large one. Sure enough, the bigger, the better. It would be better to have two such big ones. You could even tie them in a bow.

004 She Country

An ancient country called “She Country” was located between Shaanxi and Hubei in ancient times. But this country suddenly disappeared two thousand years ago.

The history of this country appeared sporadically from time to time in many ancient bamboo slips. It seemed like there was a period of sudden prosperity in She Country during the early Western Zhou Dynasty, but then the country suddenly disappeared in the middle of the Western Zhou Dynasty. Within ten or twenty years, the country in the primitive jungle seemed to quickly vanish.

They existed in many myths and legends, and there was also a large number of records in the “Classics of Mountains and Seas”. The “snake country” mentioned in the text that was outside of Sichuan should be about this country.

“She” is a homonym for snakes. This nation treated human-faced snakes as gods, so many decorations had that kind of pattern on them.

Most people who study the history of this country now believe that people in “She Country” were descendants of the mysterious “Huaxu Ancient Country”. This dates back to when it was a matrilineal society. This country used human-faced snakes as its totem mainly because the “Huaxu Ancient Country” had the legend of the “human-faced, snake-bodied Fuxi”.

Since these materials are all from ancient books and unearthed documents, the question of whether this country existed or not has always been a controversy among academic circles.

005 Murals Of The Heavenly Palace

(Six sketches of the murals are attached with paragraphs of brief explanations.) (7)

006 Murals Of The Undersea Tomb

Some of the pictures that A Ning had taken in the undersea tomb are shown.

(Eight sketches of the murals are attached with eight paragraphs of brief explanations.) (8)

Captured Wang Zanghai

The giant crater

*****

TN Notes:

(1) “Qi” means “mysterious or strange” but can also mean “valuable or holy” in this context. “Men” means “gate”. “Dun” means “hidden or escaped”. Jia is the 1st of the 10 Heavenly Stems and means “bud— the sign of growth”. It’s element is “wood yang”. The Heavenly Stems are a Chinese system of ordinals that first appeared during the Shang dynasty as the names of the ten days of the week. Wiki link. A very thorough breakdown of Qimen Dunjia is here

(2) “Yi” is the 2nd Heavenly Stem and means “sprout – the spread of growth, bursting forth from Earth”. Its element is “wood yin”. “Bing” is the 3rd Heavenly Stem and means something along the lines of “concentrated growth like fire in a house”. Its element is “fire yang”. “Ding” is the 4th Heavenly Stem and means “maturity, solidity, Heaven’s kiss”. It’s element is “fire yin”.

(3) Basically repeating the 8 gates from above: Rest, Life, Injury, Failure, Pleasure, Death, Fear, and Prosperity.

(4) The “Six Jia” refers to how ancient Chinese used to calculate the time according to the rule of heaven and earth. They regarded sixty years as one cycle and Jia should appear six times in that 1 cycle:

Jiazi (甲子)— 1st year of the 60-year cycle where each year is numbered with 1 of the 10 Heavenly Stems.

Jiaxu (甲戌)— 11th year A11 of the 60-year cycle, e.g. 1994 or 2054

Jiashen (甲申)—21st year A9 of the 60-year cycle, e.g. 2004 or 2064

Jiawu (甲午)— 31st year A7 of the 60-year cycle, e.g. 1954 or 2014

Jiachen (甲辰)— 41st year A5 of the 60-year cycle, e.g. 1964 or 2024

Jiayin (甲寅)— 51st year A3 of the 60-year cycle, e.g. 1974 or 2034

(5) Yi means rituals, so “Six Yi” means there are “six rituals”.

Wu (戊)—5th Heavenly Stem and means “flourishing and nurturing”. Its element is “earthy yang”

Ji (己)—6th Heavenly Stem and means “full bloom”. Its element is “earthy yin”

Geng (庚)— 7th Heavenly Stem and means “harvesting and abundance. Fullness leading to changes”. Its element is “metal yang”

Xin (辛)— 8th Heavenly Stem and means “dead heading, reformation”. Its element is “metal yin”

Ren (壬)—9th Heavenly Stem and means “sustenance, supporting life”. Its element is “water yang”

Gui (癸)—10th Heavenly Stem and means “regenerating roots and preparation for spring”. Its element is “water yin”

(6) These are also referred to as stars.

Tianpeng (天蓬)— has the water yang element. Considered an inauspicious star because it indicates theft/loss

Tianren (天任)— earth element. Sometimes called the “disease star”. People should receive teachings or admonishment, make friends, stay home, abstain from military deployment, postpone marriage, refrain from quarrels, long distance travel, new construction, etc.

Tianchong (天冲)— wood element, yang. Considered an auspicious star. Indicates charity and donations, doing kind deeds, or agricultural activities. Good for military action, battles, or legal issues, but inauspicious for everything else.

Tianfu (天辅)— wood element, yang. Considered a very auspicious star. Auspicious for travel, business, marriage, construction, especially study progress, increasing social status, cultural and educational development.

Tianying (天英)— earth element, yang. Considered auspicious for all things

Tianrui (天芮)— metal element, yin, relates to leadership capability, scheming, medical treatment, and military deployment. It’s an auspicious star.

Tianzhu (天柱)— metal element, yin, indicates death, strange occurrence, mysterious matters, damage. It is an inauspicious star.

Tianxin (天心)— earth element, yang, an auspicious star. It’s good for beneficence and studying, settling disputes, and legal enforcement. Also good for business, marriages, and social status.

Tianqin (天禽)— fire element, yin, indicates outrageous behavior, heated situations, fire and blood. It is a neutral star. It’s good for planning, visiting high officials, but it is unlucky for wealth, social status improvement, marriage or travel.

(7) I’m sorry, I couldn't find the paragraphs to translate. Just enjoy the pictures.

(8) Same as #7, just enjoy the pics lol

Daomu Biji: Wu Xie’s Private Notes
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    Aaron’s Pokemon

    - Artoria (Kirlia)
    - Jeanne (Flaaffy)
    - Durvasa (Mankey)
    - Unnamed (Egg)

    Fish 4.11

    Aaron Fulan

    Petalburg Woods

    I’d missed out on the evacuation notice. Now that I opened it up, I could see through a series of white lines in the glass that there was indeed a white, bell-shaped indicator in the top right corner of my screen. The speakers died so I hadn’t known to check the alerts.

    “Well, f#ck,” I swore. I turned to Ranger Wheldon. He led me to the healing machine so I could have my team treated. “So, wanna catch me up? What kinda clusterf#ck did I stumble into this time?”

    “Alright, sure, Aaron. I’ve got a bit of time before the rest of my squad comes back. You obviously know about the rampaging scizor.”

    “Yup.”

    “Well, scizor and scyther often swarm this time of year. They lay their eggs over the winter and stick around together to raise their young together, teach them how to hunt, establish the pecking order, divide up territory, that sort of thing.”

    “I understand.” Scyther did have the Swarm ability in-game. I typically didn’t think of them as pack hunters, but I clearly knew f#ck-all about Petalburg’s bug types. “So this is just a bad time to be traveling? Can’t be, right? I mean, people travel through the woods this time of year pretty frequently.”

    “RIght. Scyther are aggressive, but not that aggressive. Like a lot of pokemon, they’re omnivores, but they know to stay away from the main roads. You occasionally get a few young ones that stray away and want to prove themselves, but they’re not too bad. Usually, it’s seen as a good thing by the locals because it’s a chance to catch a rare bug type without any fuss from the rest of the swarm.”

    “So what changed then?”

    “Poachers, and not just one or two idiots either. They were organized, a full gang of eight as far as we could tell. We’re still trying to figure out just what the hell they did, but they were spotted in the area and the group of scizor that like to oversee the swarm around this time of year got really agitated.”

    “You think they started poaching baby scyther?”

    “Maybe. Or killed a few. Either way, the swarm’s not in any mood to be pacified.”

    I thought about what could have happened with the ursaring. I wasn’t Steve Irwin,, or whatever the poke-world equivalent of him was. I hadn’t been the one to pacify the ursaring; her cub had done the job for me.

    It sounded as though the swarm didn’t mind a few stragglers leaving the forest. That said, their attitude obviously changed a great deal when people started poaching from the swarm directly. And now they were tearing up the forest looking for poachers, and damn whoever else gets in the way.

    “So what happens now?” I asked as my pokemon were handed back to me.

    They fought well. They obeyed orders quickly, made good snap decisions, and had it just been three scyther, I would have felt comfortable betting money on them coming out on top.

    However, with several scizor running round, and those were quite experienced, I had no trouble admitting how outgunned my team was here.

    Another ranger, her name tag identified her as Kylie Gable, strolled over. She was a brunette with a heavily freckled face, slightly younger than Wheldon. At her side flew two swellow and an altaria.

    “Now you get the hell out of dodge, kid. The poachers scattered into smaller teams of two to try and lose us,” she said with a frown. She shoved a map in my hand. “See this? This is the cordon we’re working with. We’re going to fly you out of the area. If you’re smart, you’ll walk around the perimeter to Rustboro, or back to Petalburg.”

    “Gable’s a grump, but she’s not wrong,” Wheldon said. “Sorry, Aaron, I wish I could escort you completely out of the forest myself, but we’re a bit short-staffed as it is.”

    I waved him off. “That’s fine, Ranger Wheldon. I should be able to steer clear of trouble.”

    “Paul, kid. You’re not in the corps so it’s just Paul. Just make sure to keep an eye on your pokenav in case the situation changes. I still have your number from last time we met.”

    “Thanks, Paul. Good luck with the poachers.”

    “Yeah, I’m not looking forward to this. Looks like a few all-nighters are in our future,” he said with a huff. “They’ll be going away for a long time when we’re through with them.”

    After that, Ranger Gable flew me off on her altaria, about half a mile away from the cordon. The cordon was a loosely established perimeter patrolled by various rangers and their pokemon, allowing them to slowly choke inward to find the poachers who were thought to still be in the area. Or, if that failed, to subdue the rampaging pokemon before they got loose.

    Ranger Gable flew off with a final warning to keep a weather eye out. Rather than train on the road, I decided that having Durvasa up ahead, climbing the treetops to subtly scout the forest was a good move. With Jeanne at my side sniffing the air and Artoria and I expanding our senses, we were as attentive as we could possibly be as we made our way towards Rustboro City.

    And yet, I couldn’t quite shake the ominous feeling that Paul was right. Maybe I was the cacturne bait this year.

    X

    Two days later, I had my confirmation. I’d have to have a chat with mom whenever I made it out of the forest about potential premonitions because I found the poachers. Or, one of their teams.

    The area the rangers were operating in was over a hundred square miles. Having flying types helped, but I had to assume these men had at least a few pokemon geared towards stealth. The scyther swarm causing a ruckus, probably didn’t help matters either. In the end, how they got past the cordon wasn’t as important as the fact that they were here now.

    On the plus side, they hadn’t noticed us. Durvasa found their camp purely by luck while he swung from tree to tree. Artoria and I almost stumbled on them before my mankey captured Artoria’s attention to warn us away.

    I’d been correct to assume some kind of stealth. The camp was a basic setup with a firepit, and two tents occupied by a man each. They had a pair of hammerspace backpacks and a duffel bag. They sat around the fire, casually chatting over dinner. They were doing a great job of blending into the scenery. By all appearances, they looked no different from a pair of regular backpackers.

    Except, the camp itself was surrounded by a shroud of dark type energy let off by two of their pokemon, a liepard and skuntank. It wasn’t enough to create a “void” in mine or Artoria’s senses, but our perceptions were muffled. Without Durvasa telling us explicitly where the camp was, we would not have noticed them at all. That stealth field was enough to make me suspicious.

    Durvasa stuck around above the treetops and relayed the conversation these men were having. They were indeed poachers. None of them had access to wide-area teleporters, which was the main reason they were reliant on dark types. That, and it was possible to track psychic residue; a poacher using a powerful psychic was exactly the kind of scenario that would bring mom down personally, something they obviously didn’t want.

    From what I could gather, they seemed like an organized operation, with a clear plan to meet up at an unknown rendezvous point in four days’ time. Until then, these junior members of the gang had orders to make like typical travelers and wander through the forest at a leisurely pace to throw off pursuit.

    Since the hammerspace bags didn’t react well with pokeballs that already had pokemon inside, I could assume the captured pokemon, some scyther but many other denizens of the forest, were held inside the duffel bag next to the men.

    Alongside the aforementioned liepard and skuntank, these men also had a nuzleaf out, though I didn’t know if there might be more in reserve.

    I gathered my team and withdrew a few hundred yards away before I could really push my luck. We made sure to remain downwind from them so as to not alert their pokemon and avoided lighting a fire.

    “So, poachers,” I began in a somber voice. “I really hadn’t expected to run into them. What are the odds?”

    “Man-mankey,” Durvasa growled. I didn’t need to be an empath to know he was itching for a fight. It wasn’t lost on anyone that our most recent near-death experience had been the fault of the poachers.

    ‘These cowards provoke opponents they fear to face, only to leave good men to clean up their messes,’ Artoria whispered darkly.

    “It’s a smokescreen. The poachers stir up as much chaos as they can because that leaves the rangers short-handed to pursue them.”

    “Mankey? Mankey-man.”

    ‘He believes we should arrest them, my lord.’

    ‘Somehow, I doubt he said “arrest,”’ I replied dryly.

    ‘His exact words were “Let’s go use the plant-thing to club the others silly,” but I fail to see the distinction.’

    ‘I take it you want to fight too?’

    ‘I admit I wish to bring these knaves to justice.’

    I’d expected as much. I passed out some jerky, dried berries, and granola to my non-grass-eating teammates. No fire meant we’d just have to settle. “Durvasa wants to feed them their teeth. Artoria’s the same. How about you, Jeanne? What do you think we should do?”

    “Flaaa…” she bleated, head tilted to the side. Shecontinued to chew her cud slowly. “Flaaffy?”

    “Kir-lia. Kirlia,” Artoria trilled.

    The two went back and forth, until finally, Jeanne looked at me and shrugged. Rather than getting up in arms, she did the opposite: She flopped onto her belly and snuggled into my sleeping bag.

    “I take it she doesn’t care?”

    ‘She is livid. She does not appreciate being forced to fight scyther,’ Artoria said. She frowned in distaste. ‘And yet… My sister is of the opinion that the past is past. Entering yet another life or death battle today will not right their wrongs. She suggests that we simply go to sleep for now.’

    ‘She’s not wrong, you know. We ought to just go to sleep for now. Hell, we could even leave tomorrow and part ways, never having to fight them at all.’

    ‘But that would mean abandoning the pokemon they’d captured already.’

    ‘Who said anything about abandoning them? I do have Paul's number, you know.’

    ‘I… I had not considered that, my lord. Even so, such a course of action feels unsatisfying. I understand that they are the lawful authorities, but…’

    “But you want to do your part,” I finished for her, voicing aloud her desire for my team to hear. “You want to make sure they return the pokemon and see them brought to justice with your own two hands, even if I could just report the sighting to the rangers.”

    “Mankey,” Durvasa nodded with conviction even as his aura blazed to life. “Mankey-man. Key.”

    ‘He notes that they will not be here tomorrow, my lord. They escaped the rangers before.’

    My pokemon had a point. And yet, I felt that they were not thinking correctly. Perhaps, with some luck, this could be a teachable moment.

    “You bring up some valid points,” I acknowledged. “Let me ask you both one important question then: What is the objective?”

    The two most battle-hungry members of my team looked at each other in confusion. Meanwhile, Jeanne looked up briefly from my lap and bleated out her encouragement before promptly going back to dozing.

    For all that she seemed lazy, perhaps even stupid, Jeanne was anything but. Sometimes, I felt that she understood the way my brain worked best, even better than Artoria in some ways.

    “Well?” I asked. “What is the goal here? Fighting without an objective is no good, eh? So tell me what you want out of this. Do you want to get some payback on the poachers for siccing the scyther on us? Or do you want to arrest them so they never do this again?”

    ‘The latter of course,’ Artoria said in my mind. At the same time, Durvasa let out his own grunt of agreement.

    “Right. If our priority is to get these men arrested, who do you think will have a better chance at accomplishing this objective successfully? Us or the rangers?” They looked at me with pinched faces, like children who had discovered sour candy for the first time. “Don't be like that. You're not entirely wrong either. For a start, like you pointed out, they've escaped the rangers before.”

    “Man! Mankey!”

    “Yup. It could be a good idea to keep an eye on them ourselves. But, we also don't know how many pokemon they have so taking them head on isn't a good idea either, especially since we can’t count on Ranger Acosta’s pidgeot coming in to save the day again. I believe in us, but that doesn’t mean I want to do something stupid for shits and giggles.

    “So here’s what we’ll do: Tonight, we’re going to sleep,” I said. I held out a hand to forestall their protests. “Tomorrow, we’re going to track them. Every hour, on the hour, I’m going to shoot Ranger Wheldon a text, describing our location. I don’t know how short-staffed they are or how many resources they can dedicate to backing us up, especially since they’ve got to calm down the wild pokemon, but it shouldn’t be long before we have help on the way. Then and only then will we engage. Are we clear?”

    It wasn’t well-received, but that was to be expected. A good compromise left all parties dissatisfied.

    Even so, I wasn’t budging. I could recognize that this was a part of my duty as a trainer. Hell, had I more badges, there was a real possibility the rangers would have deputized me then and there. But though I wasn’t heartless, I wasn’t in any rush to risk my team against opponents I had barely any intelligence on.

    X

    Morning came and we were ready to keep an eye on the men. I wasn’t an expert tracker, but I didn’t need to be. Durvasa stuck to them like glue, and as one of Petalburg Wood’s natural denizens, he went entirely overlooked in his place in the treetops.

    Though we couldn’t grab an empathic hold on the men thanks to their dark types, Durvasa himself acted like a piece of mental reflective tape; both Artoria and I were quite familiar with his emotional signature after all.

    As we moved, I texted Paul Wheldon, hoping to gauge what the rangers were up to.

    Aaron: Paul? Good morning. I found one of the camps. From what the my mankey overheard, they’re two of the poachers you’re looking for.

    Paul: You speak pokemon now?

    Aaron: Artoria does and she’s telepathic.

    Paul: Ah, I see. Where? You didn’t sneak back through the cordon, did you?

    Aaron: I did not. We’re off northeast of the cordon, from where Ranger Gable dropped us off. Is there a way to track this pokenav? I don’t have internet service at the moment.

    Paul: I don’t have a porygon anyway.

    That made me pause. What did a porygon have to do with anything? I asked and got my answer: They could, by following the network, track my pokenav. It wasn’t very helpful for a ranger in the wilderness, but it was an option in areas closer to urban centers.

    Apparently, a global positioning system (GPS) didn’t exist in the pokemon world. It wasn’t for a lack of technological advancement or background knowledge either; these guys had teleport pads and hammerspace bags. Rather, they never saw the need for a GPS.

    And why would they? They had pokemon for that sort of thing. In theory, a GPS could track someone just as well if not better than a mightyena, but that would involve a comprehensive space program and a network of satellites that constantly transmitted radio waves in the background. It would also depend on the lack of interference, such as weather or just an ornery pokemon in the area.

    And with Hoenn being the only league with a nationally subsidized space program, there was simply no practical way to launch a network of GPS satellites to even get it all running in the first place.

    Aaron: What do we do then? I’m following them. My mankey’s got eyes on them. Should I wait for night and take their pokeballs?

    Paul: NO! Do NOT engage! You have two badges, Aaron. For f#cks sake, please wait for us.

    Aaron: You can’t track me though.

    Paul: We can! We have bird pokemon who can keep up from where we dropped you off. Are you in danger right now?

    Aaron: No, or I wouldn’t be texting.

    Paul: Alright, fine. Keep an eye on them. Their leader’s got a strong ninetales and we’re trying to keep it from setting fire to the forest. We’ll dispatch someone your way as soon as we can. Until then, don’t engage. If you’re discovered, run.

    Aaron: I’ll try.

    So that was the end of that. I continued to report back every half hour, leaving behind bright, sky-blue trail markers with little imprints in the shape of pink and yellow Mind Badges taped to tree trunks.

    We followed the two men for hours, fully aware that we were getting a bit off-road and away from Rustboro. We occasionally allowed them to head out further, so long as they were within Durasa’s line of sight and Durvasa remained within Artoria’s mental field of awareness. All told, they maintained an average of a half a mile of distance ahead of us.

    At about two or three in the afternoon, Durvasa reported via Artoria that the men had stopped. That struck me as odd; they’d even taken their lunches on the move, no doubt in a hurry to escape the rangers. Them being poachers, I had a sinking suspicion as to the cause.

    As we approached, more information trickled in. I was right: They’d encountered a small family of rare pokemon that they considered worth stopping for. They’d intentionally ignored all pokemon they encountered in favor of maintaining a good pace out of the forest but seemed willing to make a delay if the prize was worthwhile.

    ‘Any clue what species the pokemon are?’ I asked Artoria. We immediately began to pick up our pace.

    ‘One moment, my lord,’ she said. Then a hazy impression filtered through our bond.

    It was like a hazy photograph, taken from above and behind the poachers, as if the viewer stood hidden beneath the canopy. The image wasn’t perfect, translated as it was from Durvasa’s perspective, but I could see clearly enough.

    Four, quadrupedal pokemon stood against the poachers. They were easy to recognize: Pale, creamy skin, sauropod body shapes, and most tellingly, bright, green leaves that sprouted from their heads. These men had managed to stumble on a family of chikorita, and one that lacked a bayleef or meganium to watch over their juniors.

    In their rush to get a move on, the poachers had released their liepard, skuntank, and nuzleaf, as well as a kecleon and a bird pokemon I was certain was not native to the region. I hoped those five were all they had.

    The battle, if it could be called that, began and I could feel Artoria’s need to get there faster.

    ‘We cannot stand idly by, my lord,’ Artoria urged.

    I could guess what Durvsaa thought of the matter. He’d only stay back for so long. Durvasa had his excuse to jump in and I didn’t think he’d be swayed. In the end, I had no choice: A good leader didn’t give commands he knew wouldn’t be followed.

    Well, we were a team. For better or worse, I swore we’d face things together. If one of us dove in, we’d all be right behind him.

    I balled Jeanne and handed the pokeball to my starter. She still didn’t have a handle on teleporting more than herself, something about mass, but a pokeball? That was a little trick Artoria and I workshopped.

    “Go. Teleport to Durvasa and coordinate together. Your mission is to draw out the battle as long as possible until the rangers arrive. Keep them from catching the chikorita and work with them if you can. I’ll be right behind you,” I promised.

    “Kirlia!” she shouted. With a flash of light, she was gone.

    Half a mile, a bit less maybe. It wasn’t a long distance to sprint, but the forest didn’t make things easy. I gauged that I could be there in four minutes, maybe six.

    As I ran, I pulled out my pokenav and dialed Paul’s number. I said I’d watch and wait, but circumstances changed. Hopefully, backup wouldn't be far behind me.

    Author’s Note

    For those in the know, a GPS does not in fact work off of your wifi. Or your mobile network. Aaron is wrong, even while he’s complaining that the pokemon world never bothered to innovate. I thought it’d be a funny nod because god knows I didn’t know how a GPS worked until I had to write this.

    Aaron has trail marking tape with Mind Badge patterns.

    Would letting the poachers capture the chikorita have been smarter? Sure. They could have watched and waited. But that’s a very un-protagonist-y thing to do. Aaron might be caturne bait, but he’s sure as hell running head first into it when he can.
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      Gopher
      Gopher
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      Aaron’s Pokemon

      - Artoria (Kirlia)
      - Jeanne (Flaaffy)
      - Durvasa (Mankey)
      - Over Easy (Egg)

      Fish 4.12

      Artoria

      Petalburg Woods

      I teleported with my sister’s ball in hand and appeared next to Durvasa on the treetops. I released Jeanne at the juncture of the branches where the leaves were thickest so the light of the pokeball would be obscured as much as possible. Thankfully, the men were not paying attention to us, too focused on the chikorita below.

      Jeanne looked around and immediately zeroed in on the unknown bird pokemon. It had a long neck and bill, not unlike the skarmory I occasionally saw. But rather than a skarmory’s dignified armor, its feathers were a mix of white and black, with a cold, cruel gaze that made me wary. It also had a strange flap along its front that I could only call a throat-sac, possibly meant for transporting other pokemon.

      For her part, Jeanne had foregone all her usual silliness in favor of a quiet glower. Though she said nothing, the air around her vibrated with power, charged by the ambient static let off from her wool.

      Her tail-bulb glowed in muted colors as sparks danced along the surface, a sure sign that she’d already begun to build up some power. It was one of the first lessons my lord taught her: No matter what, every spare moment, Charge. She now did it practically unconsciously, the action as meditative for her as my kata were for me.

      “What’s the plan?” Durvasa grunted. He was hanging from a branch by his tail, keeping an eye out for us. “You’re the boss.”

      I appreciated it. At the start, I’d expected to fend off constant challenges to my authority from Durvasa, but that wasn’t the case. He made one serious attempt and after that seemed to respect me enough to listen. For the most part, he was a remarkably disciplined pokemon, not just for a mankey, but in general.

      I also remembered what my lord said: He was devious, cunning in a way that I wasn’t. Delegation was the hallmark of a good leader. So was recognizing the talents of one’s subordinates.

      “Our goal is twofold,” I began. “Ultimately, we want the poachers defeated and captured by the rangers. To that end, our primary goal is to delay their escape for our lord and the rangers to arrive. Second, we must protect the chikorita below.”

      “You can strike down the humans with a Teleport,” he pointed out. “That would end things quickly.”

      I shook my head. “The poachers were ready for psychic searchers and prepared dark type pokemon. We should proceed assuming they are prepared for such an attack.”

      “Then we should secure the duffel bag. And the chikorita should be a higher priority, otherwise they might take hostages.”

      “Thank you, I hadn’t considered that.”

      Jeanne looked at me with concern. “Will their dark type affect you? If you can’t use your best moves…”

      “That shouldn’t be a concern. Pokemon who can fully shut down a psychic are rare,” I assured her. “These simply make it hard for me to trace them but will not inhibit my own movements.”

      “Good. In that case, we need to treat the chikorita as allies. The easiest way to delay the humans is to interfere with their capture of the chikorita,” Durvasa said. “Who knows? They might be willing to fight with us.”

      I nodded. A hail of Razor Leaves spun towards the poachers, only for the skuntank to shoot them down with a gout of flames. A jet of foul-smelling fluid fired from the tip of his tail, which somehow ignited in the air to form the attack. It was the strangest use of the move I’d ever seen.

      The poachers’ pokemon began to surround them and the show of fire seemed to have killed their courage. The three other chikorita huddled behind the bigger one, trying to make themselves look even smaller than they were. We were out of time.

      “We need to move.”

      Durvasa looked down for a moment before making a spot decision. “Stick to what we know. Same formation as before. Lure them in; I should be able to do something up close.”

      “Good enough. Jeanne!”

      “On it!” my sister shouted, leaping down with an Electro Ball in hand. It narrowly clipped the bird’s long legs, not doing much damage but keeping him from swooping in behind the chikorita with a Wing Attack. She paid the missed attack no mind and immediately pounded the ground, setting up an Electric Terrain.

      I pushed aura into my spoon and got ready to use Reflect or Light Screen to defend my teammates. A handful of clones shimmered around Jeanne and I to obscure my movements.

      Fairy aura still didn’t come easily to me, I could do it, but reinforcing my spoon with it took time. In this case, I’d be the distraction here to provide my brother with the chance to land fighting type strikes against our foes.

      “Shit, we’ve got company!” one of the poachers shouted.

      “I know! They’re trained,” the other replied. “Look for the trainers!”

      ‘Shock Wave the bird,’ I told Jeanne telepathically. ‘Get them to rush our position and trust that Durvasa will make the opening count.’

      ‘Okay!’

      Jeanne began to spark, but that didn’t deter the dark types in front of us. We weren’t the priority. The liepard rushed forward into a blur, tackling one of the chikorita by the shoulder and clamping down with a vicious bite. He cried out in pain as blood splattered along the grass.

      Another chikorita, the biggest of them all by half, let out a warcry of his own, headbutting the liepard off his friend.

      “Get up! Fight!” he cried, doing his best to rouse the others. Anger blazed around him, almost as brilliant as Durvasa’s own. The kecleon fired a Psybeam at him but he dodged deftly. Rather than wait for his fellows to find their courage, he rushed the lizard pokemon before a cloud of Poison Powder blanketed a small area around him. “YOUR BLOOD WILL WET THE FOREST!”

      That changed the plan somewhat. His fighting spirit was commendable, but it was blatantly obvious he wasn’t trained. I had to keep him from getting jumped. I teleported up to the nuzleaf and smashed my sword into his face. It only did minimal damage, but I kept him from reinforcing his teammate.

      The liepard, nuzleaf, skuntank, and foreign bird focused on me, even as the kecleon hacked and coughed in the poison. The lizard pokemon vanished into his own shadow before reappearing at his trainer’s feet.

      I didn’t know those things could do that. Could I strike down the humans? Or would I leave my sister unguarded, only for him to intercept my blade?

      I opted to hold my ground. Sticking together was the right answer. Even if it wasn’t, it was too late to adjust now.

      A powerful surge of electricity shot into the air, filling the glade with the scent of ozone. The bird tried to dodge but there was no running from my sister’s Shock Wave.

      The bird cried out in pain and I learned then that it was called bombirdier. He was scorched and singed, but still managed to climb out of range.

      No matter, if he wanted to make a difference in this battle, he would have to come back down.

      “Skuntank! Flamethrower! Make some mutton chops!”

      The skuntank turned on a dime to obey his trainer. Fire gathered around his maw and I had a second to make a decision. Under normal circumstances, teleporting above the bird to knock it out of the fight would have been the ideal move, but…

      I gave up on chasing down their aerial support in favor of protecting my sister. She remained in place, continuing to charge her electric attacks, fully confident that I would shield her. Since the bombirdier was out of range, she launched salvo after salvo, keeping the nuzleaf, liepard, and kecleon off balance with weaker but faster attacks.

      I would not betray her faith in me. Psychic power bloomed along my sword. In an instant, I stood in front of her. Light Screen met Flamethrower and the noxious flames parted along the bowl of my spoon. When the torrent ended, I scattered the last of the embers with a flick of my spoon before swinging it around to point at the pokemon. The challenge couldn’t be more blatant, a wordless taunt to all: Come.

      It was the liepard that answered.

      Darkness clad his claws as he lunged towards me with a hair-raising yowl. Assurance? Night Slash? Some other move I was unfamiliar with? It mattered not. I readied myself to parry, not because I intended to face him head-on, but because I did not wish to alert him to the ruse.

      The liepard’s blackened claws were inches from me when Durvasa struck with an ear-piercing screech. It wasn’t quite a move like my lord wanted it to be, but the sudden shriek threw off the liepard, making him stutter for that one, crucial second. Our surprise attack left a sour taste in my mouth, it wasn’t knightly, but I saw the need for it.

      Durvasa struck with all the fury his species was notorious for and landed two Karate Chops, one to the back of the liepard’s neck and the other over his opponent’s eye. Both strikes were no doubt boosted with Focus Energy. Even as the liepard’s head was wrenched to the side, his Karate Chop transitioned into Scratch.

      His sharp nails found purchase on his opponent’s delicate ear, tearing it to ribbons as he pulled himself up over the larger feline. The dark type had expected an easy psychic and found the single angriest pokemon in the forest instead.

      Still, the liepard was a fully evolved pokemon with all the durability and resilience that implied. He spun on a dime, lashing out with long, razor-sharp claws that left black, sickle-shaped after images in the air. There was power there, a cruel, feline grace that spoke of murderous intent, but that was all he had going for him. Blind in one eye and already injured, he fought with savagery rather than skill, a savagery my teammate was eager to repay in kind.

      Durvasa avoided the worst of the strikes with Detect, falling back into that floating, swaying motion that Archie the hitmonchan had taught him. Though he was forced to take a few glancing blows, he repaid each with an equally vicious Karate Chop that steadily wore down his opponent.

      Where he lacked the speed to evade fully, my sword parried the claws aside. Psychic energy might be ineffective directly, but I could give my brother the opening he needed.

      Until finally, he managed to grab the liepard by the tail. His muscles surged with fighting type energy as he swept the much larger opponent clear off his feet. With a roar of triumph, he hurled the liepard into a tree.

      To our collective shock, the liepard wasn’t down. He rose on shaky legs but the glare of raw hatred in his eyes made it clear that this wasn’t over.

      Jeanne was doing an excellent job of keeping the bombirdier away so we had a brief moment to breathe. I took the chance to teleport away, arriving just in time to stop the kecleon and nuzleaf from double-teaming the brave chikorita. The nuzleaf was nearly immune to Mana Edge, but that kecleon certainly wasn’t.

      His tongue lashed out, wrapping around my spoon. There was a sticky substance that kept me from simply shaking him off. Disgusting. I’d have to spend a few hours polishing my spoon to perfection after this.

      That was fine. When he pulled me into him, claws shining with Fury Swipes, I aided him. Mana Burst cracked the earth as I used his tongue like a bungee cord, pulling me along with speed that made me a little dizzy. His eyes widened in shock before my sword found his face. The psychic energy within burst violently over his head, sending him flying away.

      Showing his own training, he swerved in the air and let go of my sword. His tongue then lashed out, catching a nearby branch and using the tree to swing around in a circle, returning to his trainer’s side. His beady little eyes looked at me with significantly more caution now.

      That was as much time as we had before the poachers finally gave up on trying to locate our lord. “Fu#k! Focus! Bombirdier, use Whirlw-”

      “Gah! Would you stop that?” the bird pokemon shrieked in pain as another Shock Wave found him the moment his elevation fell. He dared not get closer lest my sister truly put him in the ground.

      “Pick up the nuzleaf. Nuzleaf, use Bide!” the second poacher said. The bird obeyed, using his strange neck-sac to gather up his ally. I tried to intervene, but the chikorita had the same idea. A hail of leaves got in my way and kept me from reaching them.

      The nuzleaf shone with a crimson aura, absorbing Jeanne’s electric attacks. My sibling needed no other warning, stopping her anti-air assault. Instead, she turned her attention towards the skuntank, curving her strikes so that the skuntank couldn’t simply shoot them down with Flamethrower.

      He responded with Sludge Bomb at his trainer’s orders, a rapid-fire burst of noxious poisons that did a decent job of shooting down individual missiles. He wasn’t able to defend against everything and took a moderate amount of damage.

      At the same time, the bird dropped the nuzleaf, sending him careening towards us. If the landing hurt, it must have been intentional because the red glow around him deepened into an ominous crimson.

      “Give up and save yourself some pain,” the nuzleaf sneered at the chikorita.

      To my surprise, the chikorita did not flee even as its other three cohorts turned to hide. Nor did he hesitate. Somehow, he was even angrier than the average mankey; I didn’t think that was possible.

      He let out a roar before stamping the ground. A pulse of energy sank into the earth, summoning a spike of stone that struck the nuzleaf. “I WILL IMPALE YOU!”

      No matter his enthusiasm, it was clear to me that he was not a trained combatant. His stone spike was slow and the nuzleaf had plenty of time to dodge, but he chose to block instead, catching the spike with a slight wince. The crimson aura around him flared as he lunged, ready to pay the chikorita back tenfold.

      “He’s using Bide! Dodge!” I yelled at my newfound ally.

      I tried to intervene, only for the kecleon to recover far faster than I’d expected. He shoved me back with a Fury Swipe at my side before launching a Psybeam at Durvasa. It didn’t hurt much, but it was enough to draw my attention for a split second.

      Durvasa, who’d been looking to finish off the liepard, was caught by surprise. He wouldn’t be able to dodge that. I had to make a choice. And between my brother and the chikorita, that was no choice at all. I vanished again in a flicker of blue, sword up to split the Psybeam. I could only watch as our newest ally took the full brunt of the nuzleaf’s retaliatory strike.

      The Bide-enhanced nuzleaf struck the chikorita with a victorious cry. A loud sound of something breaking rang through the clearing as the young pokemon flew through the air and into a tree. He was unfortunately nowhere near as resilient as the liepard.

      “Good! Now use Rock Tomb! Herd the chikorita over here!” a poacher shouted. At first, I had no idea who he was talking to. There wasn’t a single rock type here, but apparently the bird could use rock moves.

      We were too late to respond and a dome of stone encased the three other chikorita, keeping them trapped. The bombirdier piled on more and more rocks, keeping them weighed down with a thick shell of stone. They could probably escape with Razor Leaf, together if not separately, but fear paralyzed them.

      Their eyes went to their downed fellow and I saw not a hint of fighting spirit in them. I was filled with frustration and disappointment at their cowardice but there was nothing for me to do. Father once told me that fear was the first foe we must face and I saw the truth of his words here.

      The bombirdier maintained his momentum. He turned to us with his eyes full of malice and I realized that we three were alone against these five.

      “Get off the Psybeam. Shadow Sneak. Get rid of that kirlia,” a poacher commanded the kecleon.

      “Rock Throw. Stay out of range and bombard them. Skuntank! Support with Sludge Bomb!” the other said to their two ranged pokemon.

      That got us into motion.

      ‘Durvasa, knock the rocks away with Swift. Jeanne on the sludge. Try to find an opening to take the bird,’ I thought at them. I had no idea if this was the right call and sorely wished my lord was here. Alas, I knew enough to not second-guess myself.

      I stamped down my insecurities and charged forward to meet the kecleon, and nuzleaf. The liepard hung back, injured and looking for a chance to flank me as my brother had done to him. Three on one against dark types was hardly favorable to me, but they were all injured to some degree. I’d have to hold on. The barest flicker of pink light began to coalesce on my spoon.

      Not enough, still not enough. I quickly disregarded the burgeoning fairy aura in favor of ghost. At least I knew how to use that.

      I clashed with the kecleon as the nuzleaf ran past me, striking one of my clones with Headbutt. He tried to reorient, but I’d already skipped back from the kecleon to crack my spoon over his head. The ghost type aura flared, exploding with Mana Edge, but failed to do as much damage as I was used to.

      The moment I turned my back, I felt the kecleon’s claws rake against me, tearing the back of my dress. I grit my teeth in pain but forced myself to step forward anyway to continue attacking the nuzleaf. I could feel each claw distinctly, the touch of ghost type aura leaving a trail of cold flames down my back. It raked at my mind, a constant distraction that threatened to dispel the gathered aura.

      The nuzleaf took that chance and used Payback. Black aura coated his body before he lunged for my throat. He batted my spoon aside with one hand as the other crashed into my cheek. The darkness flooded into my mind. It threatened to overwhelm me. For a moment, the glow of aura around my weapon faded as my vision was filled with stars.

      I dug in my heels and turned with the blow as my lord taught me. With the kecleon behind me, I could not step back. The kecleon was dangerous. The chikorita had poisoned him and he’d taken a full Mana Edge from me, but he was still fighting as though uninjured. I sidestepped around the nuzleaf and stomped forward, swinging the pommel of my sword upward in a close-range uppercut that left a weeping cut in the nuzleaf’s chin. I couldn’t allow them to flank me again.

      The nuzleaf fought like a berserker. There was no form or discipline to his actions. He knew moves, a fair few like Payback, Razor Leaf, and Bide, but had little in the way of technique. I felt humiliated, being pressed by an opponent I would have had no trouble defeating under normal circumstances.

      I danced around them both, putting the nuzleaf between me and the kecleon. It was the only way I could face them together; I’d have to make sure the kecleon didn’t flank me again. I used Double Team one more time and got ready to teleport.

      As much as I wished otherwise, I was unable to keep the liepard from simply dodging around me. He had murder in his slitted eyes as he rushed towards Durvasa, the one who’d almost certainly given him a concussion. A telepathic warning allowed my brother to only take a glancing blow from his claws.

      He immediately gave up on trying to shoot down the bombirdier’s Rock Throws. Instead, he cunningly positioned himself beneath the liepard, using the much larger pokemon as a living shield against his own teammate’s barrage.

      The liepard let out a wordless shriek of rage as stones pelted his body. Then, just before he could gather himself, Durvasa punched one of the stones with an aura-enhanced fist, shattering it right in front of the liepard’s face. A dozen shards lanced out, burying themselves into the feline’s eyes and choking his throat.

      That was the good news. However, the bombirdier quickly repositioned himself and began his barrage anew, this time against Jeanne.

      At this rate, we’d be worn down. I was confident in my ability to face any one of them, but together? While they had ranged support? It was beyond my current abilities.

      Jeanne must have noticed we were being overwhelmed because I heard her shout.

      “Look away!” my sister cried.

      Neither I nor Durvasa questioned it. At this point, we knew her well enough to know what was coming. Jeanne raised both paws to the sky, horns and tail glowing with power. She did what she did best: She praised the sun. A brilliant blast of white light emanated from my sister, as if a star had descended upon the glade.

      “Gah! I’m going to eat you alive!” the nuzleaf cried in pain. Jeanne was bright for me. I couldn’t even imagine what a nocturnal pokemon thought of her Flash.

      Most of the poachers’ teams were similarly affected, though to lesser degrees, and we wasted no time capitalizing on the opening. Most, not all. The kecleon further proved himself adaptable. He heard Jeanne shout and ducked behind the nuzleaf, avoiding a direct hit of my sister’s Flash.

      Durvasa struck like a sharpedo that smelled blood in the water. Even while the liepard recoiled, a vicious Karate Chop found its jugular, leaving it hacking and coughing. He then jumped onto his head, climbing just beyond the nape of the neck. The liepard thrashed wildly, bucking like a berserk taurus, but no one ever said getting a mankey to let go of his perch was easy.

      All the while, Durvasa rained down a continuous stream of hammerfists onto the back of his opponent’s head. Though he was far beyond the point of caring about precise martial arts forms, each strike was laced with the distinct glow of fighting type aura. It didn’t take long for the liepard to slump forward in blissful unconsciousness.

      That thing was strong, probably one of the poachers’ ace pokemon. I made a note to congratulate my brother for the accomplishment later.

      Jeanne ducked out completely, opting to disengage from the Electric Terrain. She’d gotten her use out of it and though she likely could have tried to snipe the bombirdier, he was quite far away and her bolts tended to dissipate into the atmosphere rapidly, losing a fair bit of power. Instead of getting a free hit on her opponents, she began using Agility, choosing to build her mobility.

      That was something that confused me about my lord’s training: My sister often acted as our ranged support, our “ranged DPS” to use my lord’s phrasing. She used Electric Terrain and Charge to build up a locus of power and behaved almost like a stationary turret.

      Yet at the same time, my lord had me teach her Agility and she learned Electro Ball, a move that benefited from increased speed.

      I didn’t understand. The two fighting styles seemed antithetical. Still, I could not deny that it proved useful now as she dodged a hail of hastily thrown rocks from the bombirdier. Knowing my sister would be able to remain mobile despite all evidence to the contrary thus far was a weight off my mind.

      I didn’t stay idle either. I used those precious several seconds to focus. I had to end things now, before the skuntank and bombirdier refocused on us. When I struck again, it was with every intent to finish it. I couldn’t have Durvasa be the only one to score a knockout here; he’d gloat for days.

      The nuzleaf was not my match. Blows rained down fast enough that he could barely register them. I smoothly ducked beneath the kecleon’s tongue and Fury Swipes before teleporting to the other side of the nuzleaf, constantly putting him between me and his ally.

      Almost without noticing, I sank into familiar kata, movements I’d honed and mastered at my lord’s side. He’d once called it a moving meditation, motions so ingrained in the body that they brought with them a nearly trance-like state of awareness.

      Then it began. A light, a spark, the slightest flare of pink in a sea of ghostly violet. Then another spark, and another.

      There was much I disliked about the fae. I disliked how mercurial they could be. I disliked the way their whims seemed to change with the phases of the moon, how they lived with such a selfish perspective. They seemed so alien to me at times, even while I counted myself among their number. And yet, it was that same selfishness that had drawn me in on that night atop the waves.

      To be a fae was to be selfish. It was to chase one’s desires with a near obsessive passion. Thus was my dream: I would become a peerless knight. Damn my gender. Damn my natural typing. None of it mattered in the face of my determination. I would prove it so. I would slash apart anything and anyone in the pursuit of this dream.

      My lord liked to tell me stories, stories of fictional heroes and villains alike. I was named for one such hero: Artoria Pendragon, the King of Knights, a young girl saddled with responsibilities she had not understood. By the time she fully comprehended the weight of her destined sword, it was too late. But rather than cast Caliburn aside, she embraced her role for the good of her kingdom, becoming a paragon of knighthood that resonated deeply with me.

      She held in her hands the Ever-Distant Utopia, a sheath perhaps even more precious than her Sword of Promised Victory. Lord Aaron once said that it was as much a metaphor for what lay beyond the horizon as it was a tangible sheath. It said that though she was unbeatable on the field of battle, it was the act of sheathing her blade, the peace promised by Avalon, that she cherished most of all.

      Because that was what Avalon was in the end: a goal, the dream of a young girl, the resting place of the King of Knights. She had her Avalon, her dream, and like her, I had mine.

      And right now, this nuzleaf was in the way of that dream.

      To be a knight was to be a protector. A shield for the defenseless. A sword for the wicked. A beacon for the lost. The code of chivalry was at its heart a paradoxical one, to seek peace by drawing the sword, perfect for a fae.

      Faster and faster I struck, even as more and more motes of pink light coalesced on my blade. The silvery hue of my spoon rapidly gave way, revealing a swirl of fairy aura that physically burned my opponent.

      For the first time, I’d fully succeeded. A fairy type sword. My dream, my own Ever-Distant Utopia, was before me, and I would not be denied. Immense pride swelled in my chest as my new sword cleaved through the nuzleaf’s guard to deliver one final blow.

      Then a thought sprang to mind. A name: Excali-Spoon. I could even hear my lord’s voice calling it that. So ingrained was his ridiculous name in my conscience that it was on the tip of my tongue, but I just barely prevented myself from shouting it out.

      The thought almost made me stumble in surprise. Even as I brought the fae-sword down on the nuzleaf, I could imagine my lord’s smug smirk.

      Heedless of my inner crisis, I continued my kata, the nuzleaf reduced to nothing more than a training dummy at this point. He’d do nicely to vent my frustrations upon.

      Author’s Note

      I hope I did that fight some justice. Sure, it only took Aaron four minutes to get there, but four minutes is a f#cking eternity in a fight. I decided to give everyone several “rounds” in D&D-speak. I wanted to focus on the pokemon. We’ll hop back to Aaron’s POV next chapter.

      If it came off as a bit confusing, that was intentional on my part. I wanted to make it obvious that this wasn’t a structured battle with normal rules. Just about the only nod to the rules is that Artoria isn’t using Teleport to assassinate the humans (she’s not that mean, yet).

      Other than that, it was my attempt at writing a (still kinda low-powered) skirmish. The poachers’ pokemon weren’t very strong, but neither are Artoria & co. They’re both considerably stronger than the regular wild pokemon though and I hope it shows.

      Animal fact? Sure. Chameleons don’t actually change color to camouflage themselves. They’re already brown and green; they don’t need more camo. Instead, studies suggest they change colors for one of two reasons: to get laid or to cool off.

      Chameleon males will change into bright colors based on mood, some reds and blues, to attract mates. Scientists also found that chameleons change color according to temperature, suggesting that being cold-blooded, they use this as a means of regulating their rate of heat absorption.

      If you really want the best camo specialist in the animal kingdom, look at the cuttlefish.

      Bonus fact: Koreans eat cuttlefish live, called san-nakji. It’s usually dipped in a spicy, vinegary sauce made using gochujang, along with sesame oil. It still squirms in your mouth and you can die choking on it (because the suckers cling to your throat).

      Honestly? It’s not awful. An acquired taste for sure, and definitely not my favorite seafood, but I wouldn’t turn my nose up if someone gave me a bite either. It’s especially nice with some cold soju. I’m really sad that there aren’t any truly good Korean seafood restaurants in the DC area.
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      1. Offline
        Gopher
        Gopher
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        Aaron's Pokemon

        - Artoria (Kirlia)
        - Jeanne (Flaaffy)
        - Durvasa (Mankey)
        - Deviled (Egg)

        Fish 4.13

        Aaron Fulan

        Petalburg Woods

        I raced through the woods, aura suffusing my body as best I was able. I could see the flares of emotion now, a corona that filled the glade in the distance. They acted as a beacon that drew me in, like a lighthouse that warned me of the jagged rocks ahead.

        My sword was clenched in hand, held loosely but securely. I was almost there. Judging by the way my team was fighting, none of them were down yet, which probably meant the poachers didn't have any other pokemon than what Durvasa had seen, or that they weren't very strong. I thanked Arceus for that. Sending them out without me was a risk, one I'd only entertained because I trusted Artoria's ability to command them.

        As I neared, I saw a spark of pink light up the glade and heard the adorable battlecry of my starter. Pride swelled in my chest. It seemed Artoria finally got her fairy sword working. One day, her Excali-Spoon would part the heavens.

        They came into view and I quickly gauged the situation: Artoria was standing over a heavily concussed nuzleaf who was probably regretting its life choices at the moment. Similarly, Durvasa stood above a downed liepard, panting and with cuts that most certainly needed to be treated, but victorious.

        I saw as Jeanne dashed out of the Electric Terrain, an Electro Ball in hand. She leapt into the air with the telltale blue glow of Agility and landed atop a pile of definitely-not-natural stone. Inside, I could see several chikorita, trapped. Jeanne used the pile of rocks as a makeshift launchpad, launching herself further into the air before pitching the orb at the bird pokemon I didn't recognize.

        One of the poachers, its trainer, screamed for it to dodge. It closed its wings and sank like a stone, avoiding taking a direct hit. Jeanne's attack still managed to clip it, making it spasm in pain.

        "Roost!" he ordered.

        It obeyed, hitting the ground and grounding itself in such a way that could only be described as poke-magic bullshit. It lost its flying type and dispersed some of the electrical charge from Jeanne's attack to the earth below.

        I'd seen enough. "Jeanne, on the bird! Take it out! Artoria on the skunk!"

        That got everyone whirling my way. My mind linked to Artoria once again and I felt a wave of relief and resolve in equal measure flood through our bond.

        I looked around for what else I could do. The shadow beneath Durvasa's feet pulsed and I shouted out a warning, saving my mankey from a painful ambush by the kecleon. I'd completely forgotten that thing could learn Shadow Sneak. If it could change type like in the games, it was the worst possible matchup for Durvasa.

        Shadowy hands reached up out of the ground. The first ambush missed, but Durvasa went in, unfamiliar with the pokemon's quirks. I wanted to warn him but was too late. Without the telepathic bond between Artoria and I, I just wasn't fast enough.

        He wore a surprised face for only a moment as his fist phased through the kecleon. Its tongue lashed out like a lance, punching and sticking to the mankey's forehead. It swung its tongue around like a bludgeon, slamming my mankey into the ground. With his already injured state, that was enough to knock him out.

        That left us at a distinct disadvantage. They had a kecleon, skuntank, and the bird and I had Artoria and Jeanne. Off along the edge of the glade, I could see three chikorita huddling in the pile of rocks. A fourth chikorita lay several yards away, bleeding and broken but somehow still conscious.

        Taking it all in, I came to one conclusion: I had to take the field.

        This wasn't a pokemon battle. There was no referee. There was no crowd to please. No, this was a fight, one that could very well end with someone dying. And right now, not only was my team outnumbered, Artoria was also injured. They worked well together, but that alone wouldn't be enough if I didn't finish this soon.

        'Stall, I'm going to try to grab their pokeballs,' I told her. A wave of dismay came through our bond but I drowned out her protest before she could voice it. 'Our priority is finishing this quickly. This is the fastest way. Just keep the kecleon off me.'

        'As you wish, my lord,' she replied, unhappy but unable to deny the truth.

        I flooded my body with psychic power as I rushed towards the two men. It wasn't anything like what the old martial masters could do; I'd seen videos of Elite Bruno or the grandmaster of Shalour City's Tower of Mastery, but it was enough.

        The two men weren't looking at me. They'd long since dismissed the presence of a nearby trainer and were completely focused on my pokemon. They wore dark-green fatigues and brown jackets that blended well with the forest.

        By the time they noticed me, I was almost upon them. One of them saw me coming out of the corner of his eye and turned. His eyes widened as they zeroed in on the sword in my hand.

        "Shit! Watch out!" one shouted, alerting his buddy. They reacted quickly, already high-strung as they were, but it didn't matter.

        Compared to two, untrained men who flailed more in panic than anything, I may as well have been an anime character. Who knew? Maybe one day, I would be. There were so many fictional sword styles, techniques blatantly impossible in my old world that could be made possible with a little psychic help. But for now, all I had was my mundane training to fall back on.

        One poacher slung his backpack off his shoulder and thrust it in the way of my initial swing, trying to block the metal. He underestimated how quickly the lever-like hold of a kendoka could twist a sword's trajectory. My sword wove in the air like a firefly, gently brushing past his outstretched backpack to stab painfully into his hand. A burst of red was my reward.

        "Gah!" he cried, dropping the backpack. The sword may have been blunted, but a point was a point. It was designed so I wouldn't hurt someone unintentionally.

        I stepped into his nonexistent guard with a heavy swing, bringing the metal down onto his other hand. He probably didn't have any more pokemon left, but there was nothing wrong with taking insurances. With aura-boosted force, a rounded edge meant little.

        I felt the fragile bones in his hand break under my practiced swing even as I turned my newly stopped blade into a sharp thrust towards his jaw. Not his throat, this world wasn't any kinder on murderers than my last one and I had no intention of seeing the legal system from the other side, but towards his face nonetheless.

        The sword lanced through his cheek, leaving a wicked gash that would require a chansey's special attention to fix. Perhaps he'd be more appreciative of pokemon now. Another scream pierced the air as he collapsed to the ground.

        "What the f#ck?" his partner yelled. "Bombirdier! To me!"

        That was a mistake. The skuntank could not help in time with its relatively slow speed and long-ranged but imprecise attacks. There was a real chance any attack towards us would hit the poacher instead of me. The kecleon was currently busy with a pissed off kirlia and was in no position to Shadow Sneak over. It made sense to call for the bird pokemon; it was by far the fastest responder under the circumstances.

        But Jeanne wasn't stupid; she understood human common perfectly fine. The moment that bird turned around, she nailed it with everything she had. An Electro Ball careened into its back like a fastball, followed by an overcharged Shock Wave that looked more like a small Thunder. Her opponent collapsed like a stone as she turned to face the skuntank.

        He whirled to face me with panicked eyes. He scrambled for something at his hip, a hunting knife about four inches long. He held it with some modest skill and I determined that he was a man who'd been in a few scraps before. He'd clearly never expected to fight a kid, but that inexperience made him unpredictable and I was forced to treat him with more caution than I had his partner.

        Those cute disarmament kata that got shown off in dojos? They usually didn't work. They were cool to look at, and they were almost always necessary to receive a black belt, but they weren't nearly as effective as the mall-ninja masters claimed.

        The one acknowledged constant of knife-fighting was that if a blade got pulled, your best bet was either to back off altogether, or engage with the understanding that you would likely be cut. Barring special circumstances, there were no winners in knife fights, just varying severity of injuries. That could be different here in this anime world, but I wasn't so far above a normal teenager that I wasn't afraid of a knife.

        So, rather than lunge for him, I opted to wait quietly. If I saw him move first, he'd become much more predictable. I could afford to wait now that the rangers were coming and the poacher only had two pokemon left. Time was on my side here. The two of us stared each other down as we played a mental game of chicken.

        I didn't have to wait long. He grew increasingly nervous as the pressure mounted. And when he came in with a thrust, I stepped to the side and brought my blade down on his wrist, breaking the bone with a sharp crack.

        I followed through, bouncing my sword from his wrist and slammed the back of my sword into his throat. He screamed out in pain, only for that to die in his throat in a choked gurgle. A final strike to the temple knocked him out.

        Moments later, I was rummaging through his belt. I found three pokeballs and hurled them all one by one at the skuntank until the third, of course it was the last one, forcibly returned it. Then I did the same with the first poacher I'd knocked out until I found the kecleon's ball.

        Finally, it was over. There was no climactic end, no trade of super-moves or beam-offs, but that's how I preferred it. All that was left to do now was to clean up.

        X

        Chikorita

        Petalburg Woods

        Incredible. Just… incredible…

        The forest was a peaceful place. Those who lived within its depths had few dealings with outsiders, not unless we wanted to. The paths where humans traveled were known to all. Pokemon who partnered with these "rangers" occasionally dropped by to inform us of changes or take a survey of the forest's denizens for one purpose or another. We were so isolated in fact that I had not known the humans called this place "Petalburg" until the previous year.

        We, the chikorita, were among the guardian species of this place, nurturers. She Who Blooms with the Dawn was our leader, a great, aging meganium who acted as our matriarch and the leader of the herd. Before she passed with the final sunset and the herd scattered, she would tell us stories of far-flung woods, a place called Ilex that was home to the Great Forest Guardian.

        My matriarch had arrived here with a human, one who loved and cherished nature as much as she did. Though we did not know what became of the human, we knew where she was buried, along with the worn pokeball that She Who Blooms with the Dawn had once called home. A great, gnarled spruce sat atop a small hill, alone yet peaceful. It swayed in the breeze and overlooked the herd. That tree had been special to her. To us.

        To the herd, it was a precious gathering place, our own slice of the forest. It was a place of community, where our matriarch entertained the young and nourished the forest around her. And when others came to visit, it was where she held court, addressing the forest at large, dispensing her vast wisdom, and soothing wounded hearts. It was the place where I grew up, where I first learned to feel the life energy of all the flora around me.

        It was also the place She Who Blooms with the Dawn was buried after she'd seen her final sunset, buried with her dearest and most cherished friend. It was the place where the entire herd mourned her passing, where we sang and stomped the earth until the trees swayed in concert with our steps.

        It was beneath its swaying leaves that the herd gathered for a final time before we went our separate ways. It was the only home I'd ever known.

        And these bastards took it from me.

        Ugly, blazing hatred burned in my heart, so very unlike the rest of my kind. My kind were a peaceful lot. We were nurturers and caretakers. It was our lot to sing to the forest, to guide and nourish. We loathed fighting, one and all.

        Except me.

        My blood sang and I struck out against those who would further scatter the herd. My leaves sliced the air and threatened to tear them to pieces. Powders of poison, as ugly and vile as the wrath inside me, flooded the air.

        I wanted revenge. I wanted justice. I wanted to watch as their blood wet the soil, the slightest measure of penance for the tree they had so carelessly torn down, the home they had destroyed, the grave they had defiled.

        I called my brothers to fight with me. I called, for surely they felt the same burning in their hearts.

        And yet, not a one rose to fight for what we had lost. Not one would honor her memory.

        My wrath blazed ever brighter at the sight of my quailing siblings. Cowards! Spineless wurmple! They ran! Ran like frightened calves! Even when they were captured, they did not struggle.

        It sickened me. And I understood, for we were nurturers, not warriors. And it sickened me twice over that I understood.

        We were a peaceful lot. Not one of us had known of battle. We had no need to, for none in the forest would dare raise claw nor fang against us. Why would they? Why would they harm the ones who most selflessly gave of ourselves for the sake of our shared home?

        Even the scyther, sharp and terrible predators though they were, left us be. Their leader, the scizor with countless scratches on his claws, decreed it so.

        But they were gone now, and so was our matriarch. Her tree lay sundered and the ground beneath rotted with toxins. War had come to my home and I found myself woefully unprepared. I cried and raged and fought with all I had, but I had to face the truth: I wasn't good enough.

        But someone else was. I watched, broken and bleeding, as three pokemon came to our rescue. A flaaffy, mankey, and kirlia, none fully evolved, none I'd ever seen before.

        I had to rely on the goodwill of strangers to gain some slight measure of justice.

        It burned. The indignity. The wrath. It burned like a physical fire that I could feel coursing through my veins. It burned and left a gaping hole in my chest knowing there was nothing I could do but watch as someone else fought my battle.

        And fought they did. It was clear to see, even in my inexperienced eyes, that they had a plan coming into this.

        I saw the kirlia and mankey cover the flaaffy. I saw the kirlia cleave fire like a stone that parts the river. I saw her tempt the liepard into attacking her, only for the mankey to take over seamlessly, landing strike after devastating strike. I saw the flaaffy shock the bird and keep him away, making him all but useless.

        I saw them maneuver the liepard with ease, making the damned bird strike his own ally. I saw the mankey strike down the feline with shattered stone into his eyes. I saw a sword of ethereal energy illuminate the glade. I saw a lamb shine like a star.

        Most of all?

        I saw them fight as one.

        It was incredible. They weren't impossibly swift or mighty like a salamence. They did not have numbers on their side like the mightyena packs. No, their strength, at least individually, wasn't much greater than my own. They did not stand as towering giants, yet the shadows they cast felt all the longer because of it: Their strength seemed achievable.

        'I can do that,' I thought. 'We could have done that. Together. As one herd. We could have fought as one, if only we had not gone our separate ways.'

        And yet, there they were, fighting, fighting a battle that should have been mine.

        I saw and was filled with shame and disdain. At myself. At the cowardice of my species. At these poachers who had desecrated the matriarch's resting place.

        I could not scream or shout. I could only bite my tongue with bitter self-loathing as they were slowly but surely overwhelmed. Once glancing blow after another, they simply could not handle the numbers. Though none had fallen yet, it was only a matter of time. I tried to force myself to stand but felt my ribs scream out in white-hot agony.

        And then he came. A human calf who wielded a blade like a scyther.

        He rallied them even as the mankey fell. His presence alone breathed new life into the kirlia and flaaffy and they fought all the harder because he was here. He could do what I could not: He inspired them, calling them to fight beneath one banner with nary a word.

        He struck down the men with a grace I'd not thought possible for his kind. The taillow and swellow often spoke of humans as bumbling and graceless, like newborn calves who had yet to find their feet. There was blood. There was the sound of breaking bones. There was fury and righteous wrath and ruthless retribution.

        I loved it. I watched grown men brought low by a child and felt the dark delight of vindication. For the pain they'd caused, for disturbing the matriarch's rest, they paid in blood and I was satisfied.

        I'd wondered who led them, a kirlia who fought with the speed and grace of a scyther, a mankey with the discipline and cunning to temper his rage, a flaaffy who shone brightly like the sun. And now I knew.

        I'd found my trainer.

        X

        Aaron Fulan

        Petalburg Woods

        After forcibly returning the poachers' pokemon, I went about treating my own, starting with Durvasa. He'd taken the most damage from the kecleon, and I assume the liepard. After giving my team the lion's share of my potions, I had Jeanne keep an eye on the poachers and turned to the chikorita.

        The chikorita was looking bad. It was about half again as big as its brethren and had a large, green leaf on its head that was browning at the edges. Bruises and cuts littered its body, so much so that I almost saw more discolored bruises and weeping cuts than its natural, pastel-green hide.

        "Hey, you've been through a lot, haven't you?" I said gently. It looked up at me with crimson eyes. Rather than fear, I saw the hues of awe and vindictive satisfaction in its eyes. I held out my potion. "This is going to sting, okay?"

        "Chiko…" it moaned and nodded. It didn't react to being sprayed with the healing liquid beyond a light wince.

        Then, once the pain subsided, it tried to stand. Its forelimbs pushed it up with moderate difficulty but its hindlimbs failed to work. I saw its legs twitch a little as it tried to get its feet under it.

        'My lord, he was slammed into a tree by the nuzleaf's Bide,' Artoria filled me in as she came to my side. Her dress had been torn but she would fix it herself once she had the chance to recover her psychic power. Beyond that and a few scrapes that had already begun to scab over, she was in good health.

        "Don't get up," I told the little dinosaur. "You probably injured your spine. Trying to get up will make things worse for you."

        "Chiko-rita. Chiko," he said. He tried for a moment but I placed a hand on his head and gently but firmly pushed him back down.

        "The best thing you can do right now is rest."

        "Chi? Rita-chiko."

        "Kir-Kirlia, kirlia-kir," Artoria replied.

        I let them talk things out while we waited for the rangers. It didn't escape my notice that he was the only chikorita that was seriously injured. Was he their protector? Big brother?

        Either way, his admiration for my starter was plain to see. I had a feeling I knew what was coming.

        'I wonder what his dream will be?'

        Author's Note

        Really short chapter, but I think it's a good stopping place.

        I'm not a huge fan of pokemon fics where the human MC is a DB-esque warrior too, but at the same time, Aaron's been building to that. That said, I love Ruroni Kenshin so if I had to give Aaron a fantasy sword style, it'd probably be Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu. Sure, it's not the strongest in fiction or anything, but that's a plus in my book.

        If it wasn't obvious, yeah, the chikorita is the fifth (depending on if you count the egg) member of the team. I suppose he doesn't really have an archetype. If Artoria is the Knight, Jeanne is the Idol, and Durvasa is the Sage, this one is… kind of ambiguous. I do have a picture of his personality in mind, but a single word that captures his archetype eludes me. I'm sure it'll come to me eventually.

        Animal fact? Nah. Have a star fact: The sun, via nuclear reaction, loses 4.7 million tons of mass (4.3 metric tons) per second. I know that when we talk about comic book characters, battleboarders like to say someone is "star-level," but I think very few people realize how absurdly powerful that would really be.

        You know what weighs that much? About 790,055 elephants. Or 33,424 blue whales. Or 471 Eiffel Towers.

        The sun yeets 471 Eiffel Towers across the solar system each second. Respect it.
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