(A/N: This chapter has been edited very much from the UMR (version before this one). Some information, details and names for the Legendary Pokémon are different. The plot of this chapter itself is different. But don’t worry; all changes are for the better (well, one can argue about the names, but I personally think they’re much better) and it doesn’t affect any later chapters majorly.)
When Mark woke up, the Charmander was still asleep, but this time curled up with the tail flame burning peacefully beside its head. Mark carefully placed his hand onto its back. It was warm and breathed normally. He smiled, quickly dressed and then tiptoed into the kitchen, where he was greeted by his parents’ serious faces and folded arms.
“Mark,” his father sighed, “we need to talk”.
“Why not??” Mark shouted across the table, pouring cornflakes into his bowl.
“It’s very simple, Mark, it’s dangerous out there!” his father hissed.
“So what? I’d have a Pokémon for my protection!”
His parents exchanged looks and his mother said quietly: “What if your Pokémon turns against you?”
“That… that… just… doesn’t happen!” Mark said lamely. In fact, he had no idea. Nobody had taught him that at school.
“Are you sure of that?” his mother asked.
“Well, no, not really, but…”
“See, we just want to keep you safe.”
“But, oh, mom…”
“Besides,” his father added thoughtfully, “we’ve yet to check all the reported Lost Pokémon.”
Mark didn’t say anything; he was aware of that, but he was still hoping somebody had released the Charmander on purpose. Meanwhile, his father stood slowly up, not taking his eyes off Mark, went to the computer in the corner (which was mainly used to find recipes online) and went to the official “Lost Pokémon” website. Mark quickly jumped to read over his shoulder as he searched for “Charmander”.
A broad grin spread through Mark’s face as the results appeared: Two lost Charmander, both of them in Kanto.
His father sighed. “That does not mean you’re about to go on a journey.”
Mark was about to protest, but…
The little lizard carefully stepped into the kitchen and looked curiously around.
“Oh, it’s awake,” Mark’s father sighed.
“Mander Charmander,” said the Charmander, sounding offended. If Mark knew his Pokémonish correctly, that was supposed to mean “I’m not an ‘it’, I’m male.” Mark turned to his father with a serious expression and said “He’s a he, dad. Should I have said “Oh, it’s awake” when I came in here and saw you?”
Charmander looked confused and asked “What’s going on?”
“We’re arguing over whether you will go psycho and kill me,” said Mark and shot a ‘what-weirdoes-those-adults-can-be’ look back at his parents. Charmander raised an eyebrow.
“Look, hon, that’s not quite the way we put it,” Mark’s mother began, but Charmander interrupted loudly.
“What am I doing here, anyway?”
“Er…” was all Mark’s father said.
“I saved you when you fell unconscious on the road in the rain yesterday,” said Mark. “And I was… uh… wondering…”
“If you can be my trainer?” Charmander smiled. “Sure, why not, as a thank you… I need a new trainer anyway…”
“Do you have a name?” Mark immediately asked.
“Just call me Charmander, I don’t have a special name,” he answered cheerfully. Mark looked hopefully at his parents.
“No way,” said his father, folding his arms. Charmander’s expression dropped.
“Maybe I should just leave, then,” he said, turning around.
“No, wait… you can stay here! Just as a pet! Or whatever!” Mark’s father called after him, not wanting to send the poor thing out to die in the next downpour. Charmander turned slowly back to them.
“Do you trust me more here than out there?”
“It’s just that...” Mark’s father started, but his mother interrupted:
“There are dangerous Pokémon out there – and you’re too small to handle them if they do attack.”
Charmander couldn’t think of anything to say – it looked like his and Mark’s silently made plan wasn’t working.
For a few days, Charmander was Mark’s pet. They had a really fun time – always went to bed very early, but set Mark’s digital watch to beep at two AM or so, and then with Charmander’s tail flame as the only light source, they discussed ways to get out on a journey. They actually started imagining this was the dungeon in the castle of two evil lords who kept them imprisoned, inventing loads of ideas of how to escape, each more absurd than the other.
“I think we must use our cunningness for this,” Mark whispered, leaning closer to Charmander. “You will set the castle on fire and while they burn, we will run.”
They both snickered.
“Hey, Mark…” said Charmander thoughtfully, “I think I have an idea. No, not that kind of an idea, a real idea…”
Mark walked into the kitchen in the morning, his face expressionless.
“I don’t want breakfast, mom,” he said gloomily. “I just came to say goodbye.”
“I’m gonna kill myself.”
Crash. Another cup went to waste. His mother’s expression was so priceless he almost burst out laughing, but he had to keep the depressed-and-tired-of-life face.
“No, you’re not!” she screeched.
“It’s just… my friends are all gone, I have nothing to live for,” he went on.
“But how do we fix that, dear?” she asked in a worried tone.
“I just wish I could go and meet up with them, on my own journey.” Mark immediately realized that the smile that followed was far too hopeful. And too un-depressed. His mother sighed.
“You’re not funny, Mark. I mean… do you even have any idea how much that cup cost?”
“A lot, if I know you correctly,” Mark muttered. Neither of them said anything for a while, until his mother sighed again.
“Are you that desperate to go on that journey of yours?”
“Of course I am!” Mark replied, his expression brightening up. “Mom, Charmander and I have been secretly thinking up plans at night! We’re that desperate and more, mom, we’ve been imagining you’re evil dictators keeping us inside a dungeon!”
“And,” Charmander announced in a threatening voice, entering the room, “we will do that every night from now on unless you let us out.”
Mark’s mother got a weird expression, and then said: “You’re incredible, boys – I think there’s no way to keep you in here for very long.”
“YES!” Charmander shouted.
“WHOOOOO!!!!” Mark yelled, hugging his smiling mother and then Charmander, in no fear of getting his shirt burned.
Things were being packed into an old leather backpack that looked like it could burst at any time. Mark’s father was still not happy, but he had ended up giving in to his wife. Mark and Charmander bounced around the house in a wild celebration-dance. He got loads of money to buy stuff for. Finally, he set off with Charmander by his side.
“Bye dad! Bye mom! I promise I won’t get myself killed!” Mark’s mother smiled through the tears as he waved. Then he turned and started running.
The Gyms in Ouen had been arranged so that the recommended first gym was in Cleanwater city, a big one which was conveniently not that far from Sailance, then went in a spiral inwards until the last gym was in Acaria city in the heart of the continent. Cleanwater was near the edge of the Pokémon-inhabited part of Ouen, built near a mysterious lake which was famous for being so clear that the bottom was always visible in details, despite being the second-deepest lake in the whole of Ouen. It was therefore called “The Lake of Purity”.
But he was not headed to Cleanwater city yet. He was going to the Sailance Library to get Pokémon Training for Dummies.
Mark knew very little about Pokémon training. All he was certain of was that he would have to get himself a Pokédex, which would come with a unique ID number that any Pokémon he caught would be registered with. And the very basic stuff, like that you can only carry six Pokémon at a time, that Pokémon are caught in Pokéballs, that a Pokémon trainer challenges Pokémon Gyms, how the Pokémon League works, that kind of things. He didn’t really know much about how to get started. His parents didn’t either, so they had advised him to go to the library. Technically Mark didn’t know if a book by that name existed, but it had to exist, right?
The library was a huge, bright white building in the middle of the town. The walls were decorated with carvings of various Pokémon. Over the door, there was a big Articuno flying to the left. As always when Mark entered the library, he gave a small bow in respect for the magnificent bird that looked so alive – Mark was sure the artist had liked Articuno a lot, since it had been made with more care than the other Pokémon. The modern-looking automatic door slowly slid open before him, and he prepared to walk inside. Charmander was about to come too, but Mark explained to him that Pokémon weren’t allowed in the library. He’d have to wait outside. Mark eyed a few people staring at the Pokémon like a miracle, and pride started spreading around his chest. He smiled, and then entered the building.
The search computers along with a few shelves of paperbacks with huge titles greeted him, along with the familiar smell of books that Mark had always loved. But he walked right to the elevators, as this book would be on the second floor.
A chubby middle-aged woman wearing what looked disturbingly much like a Sentret fur coat came through the metallic door, eyed Mark like some kind of a big disgusting insect and then walked away with her nose in the air. Mark decided she was a grumpy old snob and stepped into the lift.
An endless row of Marks stared back at him from the mirrors on the sides. He turned to the buttons and meant to press the “2” button, but his finger slipped and landed between buttons 2 and 3. Both numbers were lit up, and the elevator started moving slowly upwards. It stopped on the second floor and a man with a suitcase stepped in, but Mark suddenly felt a weird longing to see the third floor. It couldn’t hurt, could it? He had plenty of time, and if somebody tried to steal Charmander, which he doubted, his fire lizard could easily defend himself.
He went out on the third floor and looked curiously around. He could go left or right. A voice in his head told him to go right.
Automatically, Mark walked up to one particular shelf. On it there was a book that looked older than most of the others:
The Ouen Legends
Mark’s attention was instantly caught. His heart beat faster. Despite knowing everything there was to know about the Legendary Pokémon of Kanto, Johto and Hoenn, for whatever reason he had never found any decent books about the Legendary Pokémon of his own region. His burning interest for Legendaries, of course, had never fully accepted this. He did have a vague knowledge of their names, but he had never heard the stories behind them.
But now was his chance. He reached forward with his hand and took the book out. On second thought, it was dusty, but not all that old. Like it had just not been moved out of the shelf since… before it was printed? Odd.
Mark shook his head and slowly walked over to a big, fluffy and comfortable-looking chair with the book in his hands. He slammed himself down into the chair, examining the cover image. At the top, it had dragons soaring in the sky. He figured that those must be the so-called Color dragons, named so because their basic structure was all the same except for the colors, elements and some markings and additional things representing their element.
Below the dragons, there were winged unicorns. If the Color dragons’ basic structure was the same, the unicorns were the exact same apart from the color and what their tail, mane, horn and wings were like. He knew them, but couldn’t remember their names.
But at the very bottom, there was… Mewtwo?
Yup, he was sure of it. The whitish-purple anthro cat-like shape was unmistakably that of the first super-clone that had ever been created and had gotten such experiments banned. A Kanto Legendary.
What’s Mewtwo doing on the cover of a book about the Ouen legendaries? Mark thought. He looked better at Mewtwo’s shape. The eyes were closed, but looked creepily open all the same. It’s that highlight, said Mark’s artist eye. The shading gives that effect, the highlight on the eyelid looks like a pupil. But it was still scary, with those closed eyes that seemed to be watching you. Had the cover artist drawn it like that on purpose?
Either way, Mewtwo wasn’t supposed to be there.
Mark shrugged and opened the book. He flicked past the title pages, apart from checking the publishing date. It was five years old.
The book started with the Color dragons. The left page had a watercolor illustration of them, with their names written near them.
There was a small, silver one at the bottom with a big, Charmander-like head and tiny wings, apparently called Lidreki. What caught Mark’s attention about it, however, was that where the sunlight shone onto the dragon’s scales, they were brightly rainbow-colored. Mark thought the effect was cool.
The other ones were the real Color dragons themselves. They were all larger than Lidreki, European-style dragons with big, clawed legs, small arms and broad wings spreading out from their shoulders.
The bottom left one was in a deep metallic green color. It was a pretty typical Western dragon in all other aspects, basically rather uninteresting. It was called Dragoreen.
Opposite Dragoreen so that both stared hatefully at each other, there was Preciure, the Gold dragon. It had beautifully golden scales, a white beard and a line of silver spikes went down its back. A few rubies were in between the scales.
Above them, there was another pair of dragons that seemed to loathe each other. The right one Mark immediately recognized as Raudra, the Fire dragon. Its scales were a fiery red and a thick, yellow mane flowed down its back. It had two bony white horns atop its head. The left one however, was Dracobalt, the Water dragon; it was Dark blue, with a large fin on its back and two long, narrow horns.
The third and last pair of rivals was at the very top. Puragon, the left one, was pearly white all over, with four see-through narrow horns. Venoir, in the top right, was black. It had dark purple horns, red eyeballs and slits for pupils, making it look terrifying.
Mark was excited as he started reading the information on the right page.
THE COLOR DRAGONS
The six Color dragons grew up from Lidreki – originally there were six of those, then they were separated and lived differently.
One of them went off to a volcano, for he liked heat. From being exposed to so much lava and fire, he evolved into Raudra, the Fire dragon.
Another one, a female, went and lived near a lake. From being so close to water, she ended up evolving into Dracobalt, the Water dragon.
Another male hid in the darkness of a lonely cave, eating Ekans and Seviper. He evolved into the Darkness dragon, Venoir.
The next female went off to the arctic, lived in the cold and the snow. She evolved into Puragon, the Ice dragon.
The oldest male became consumed with greed and collected precious metals and jewels, collecting them into a cave. There he evolved into Preciure, the Dragon of Wealth.
But their youngest sister was helpless at the time, followed them one after another until they fought her away, and she ended up evolving into Dragoreen, the Dragon of the Poor.
After they had grown up, it became their greatest ambition to be better than their opposite sibling, and the legend says that they’re still lurking out there, desiring strength above all…
Mark turned past some pages consisting of things he already knew, quoted newspaper articles from people who claimed to have seen them and some old paintings of the Color Dragons (as interested as he was in art, he didn’t want to keep Charmander waiting for too long), and finally reached the next chapter.
He studied the illustration. The unicorns were eight. The first one was all white with normal, feathered wings and a swirly horn like your typical winged unicorn. It was Waraider.
The next one was also white, but had a flaming mane and tail; the horn and hooves were bright orange and the wings were made of fire, reminding Mark of white Moltres wings. That one was Emphire.
The third unicorn, Seasar, was beautifully dark blue. Its tail and mane didn’t seem to exist at all; it rather seemed like a river burst out from the top of its head and ran smoothly along its whole back, finally gracefully dropping down like a waterfall and then disappearing into thin air just before reaching the ground. The wings seemed made of vapor that took form into a wing.
Electhrone was the fourth one. It was whitish-yellow, but its mane and tail were very dark blue and somewhat curly, giving the illusion that they were clouds of some sort. Small sparks flew between the hairs. The horn was a bit crooked, like a bolt of lightning. Its wings were feathered, but the feathers were oddly pointed.
The fifth one was called Natruler. It was white like Waraider, but in place of feathers, its wings had long, beautifully green leaves. The horn resembled a branch growing out of its forehead. The tail and mane looked like bundles of grass and leaves.
Unicorn number six was Freezaroy. Icily white with a tint of blue, its tail, mane and wings appeared to produce snow as the magnificent Pokémon ran. The horn resembled an icicle.
The second-last one was called Mysticrown and was white with magenta tail, mane, horn and hooves. Its eyes were creepily purple, and unless Mark was very much mistaken, it seemed to glow with a very faint violet aura. The wing feathers were tipped with purple.
The last one, however, was pitch-black but somehow transparent; evil-looking red eyes glinted in the head. The wings seemed made of smoke. It was Darkhan.
Mark turned to the information page.
It is said that there were originally eight Waraider, but somehow all but one of them evolved, each into a different type. Waraider is equally powerful as its evolved forms, but lacks the elemental powers. Instead, Waraider is the leader of the herd. Waraider is a Normal type.
Emphire is a Fire type, Seasar is a Water type, Electhrone an Electric type, Natruler a Grass type, Freezaroy an Ice type, Mysticrown a Psychic type and Darkhan a Dark type. They all have the Levitate Ability.
After that, there came a bunch of stuff Mark wasn’t as interested in, so he turned past it. After that, there came what he was probably most curious about: what Mewtwo was doing in that book.
He looked at the illustration first as he had done before. Again, its eyes were closed in that creepily “watching” manner that had been on the cover picture. Mark couldn’t help wondering why it was drawn like that, though. He would’ve believed Mewtwo’s eyes would usually be open.
The answer was on the right page, where the title – partially – explained it:
Oh, yeah, Mark thought. Stupid me, should’ve remembered that one. I’ve heard of it before, I’m sure. But… why does it look like Mewtwo?
He started reading the text.
Chaletwo is the only one of the Ouen Legendaries that is confirmed to exist. He appears every year at the exact same time and place; 4:26:45 PM on the 25th of May, the grass patch outside Green town. His appearance always attracts a lot of tourists, and is what made Green town so big in the first place.
The first time that a human witnessed him, he is said to have communicated telepathically with the human and said: “Don’t fear. I am Chaletwo and do not intend to harm you nor any other living thing. I only wish to come here once a year and have a quick look around the world.”
Nobody knows why he bears such a striking resemblance to Mewtwo, who is in fact a Kanto Legendary (although that is arguable due to the fact that he is man-created), look-wise.
Due to Chaletwo’s limited availability, Mewtwo has been asked about this.
“Do you think I wouldn’t like to know?” he answered before teleporting grumpily away. “He said he didn’t wish to tell, least of all me. He wouldn’t reveal anything further.”
People wonder whether Chaletwo might be another Super-clone, backing that up with the name he after all introduced himself with, but experts doubt it.
“He’s not just a simple second Mew clone,” Pokémon researcher Ash Ketchum explained in an interview once. “I’ve studied both of them carefully through making detailed 3D models from close-up photos. I’m telling you, every last hair on their bodies is the exact same. Technically, Mewtwo’s creators could have made an additional one with almost the exact same genetic code, resulting in a clone that looks the same, but face it, according to all sources we have, Mewtwo destroyed the lab and everything in it, which would have had to include another embryo if one had been there.”
It appears that there are only two differences between them: Chaletwo’s eyes and his Dark/Psychic type.
Chaletwo’s eyes are probably the greatest power of this world. If they look upon a living thing, it dies. If they look upon an inanimate object, it blows up. Only his own eyelids can withstand the power, and even through closed eyes, he can see through things. Nobody is quite sure how his eyes work, but there are many theories.
Chaletwo is said to match the Kanto Legendary Molzapart in power, tying them as the most powerful Pokémon in the world.
Molzapart. Mark, obviously, could have recited many books’ worth of information about it if he wanted. It was said to have been created when Mew found the legendary Mist stone, which was rumoured to have the power to evolve any supposedly “fully evolved” Pokémon at all. Mew made a decision to attack the stone in order to prevent Pokémon from stumbling across it and evolving into scarily powerful creatures, and called the Legendary Birds of Kanto for assistance. But even their attacks combined could not destroy such a magical object, and instead they found themselves facing the “evolved form” of their attacks: a large, magnificent, yellow bird with a burning flame on its head, brightly blue wings, a long, dark blue tail feather, black legs leading to huge bright orange talons, and the psychic powers to severely injure its accidental creators with one blast. Then Molzapart flew away and trained until his power had no match.
Apart from Chaletwo, apparently.
Mark looked at his watch, discovering how long he had been reading, closed the book, put it back where he had found it and hurried down to meet up with Charmander again.