The hotel was a huge building that appeared to be entirely composed of glass from the outside. To Mark’s pleasant surprise, he found a sign outside it announcing that Pokémon trainers paid half price.
He walked inside, not sure if Charmander was allowed outside a Pokéball, but just assuming he was. An elderly lady in a blue dress sat by the counter and read the newspaper. Her huge square glasses were on the edge of falling off the tip of her nose.
“Excuse me,” said Mark. The woman looked up and observed him carefully, eying Charmander.
“Pokémon trainer?” she asked in a monotone voice.
“Yeah,” answered Mark.
“How many nights?” she asked, turning slowly to a computer standing beside her.
“One to begin with,” Mark said.
“Your ID number, please?”
Mark immediately realized that of course, he had forgotten to buy a Pokédex. Feeling stupid, he blushed and said: “Er, I don’t have one yet.”
“It’s necessary to give your trainer ID before checking in,” said the woman.
“I’ll go to the Pokémart and buy a Pokédex, then, and come back afterwards,” Mark suggested. The woman nodded and sank back into her newspaper.
Mark walked outside again, closely followed by Charmander. The clouds were slowly drifting away, predicting a starry night and good weather tomorrow.
“Well, there’s always something you forget to buy,” Mark sighed. “Charmander, would you like to go into your Pokéball now, or…?”
“Yeah, maybe, I’m getting tired of walking,” said Charmander, relieved. Mark removed one of the red and white spheres attached to his Pokéball belt, maximized it by pressing the button, and touched Charmander gently with it. He was turned into red energy and drawn into the ball.
Mark went into the Pokémart, constantly forgetting that Charmander was inside his Pokéball and getting crazy worries about Charmander’s safety inside the ball. He would just have to get used to it, but at the moment it was somehow really discomforting. Reassuring himself that his Pokémon was definitely still inside the Pokéball, Mark walked over to the fourth row of shelves, finding Pokédexes of various shapes, sizes and colors lined there. After a bit of thought, he picked a sapphire blue one with a white back, some red lines and markings for decoration and two flaps to fold in so that it would fit neatly into one’s pocket. After paying almost all of his money left, he exited the shop, unfolded the Pokédex and turned it on.
“Thank you for choosing Pokédex Advance, Kyogre edition,” said a voice with a British accent as if to test the sound. The screen turned light blue, and then displayed the words “Would you like to start the set-up now?”
Mark selected “Yes” and pressed A.
“Please place your right eye in front of the scanner and press A,” the screen now read, with a small picture showing with a red arrow where the scanner was placed – apparently, the Pokédex used the same tool to identify Pokémon as its owner’s eyes. Mark held it up to his eye, pressed the button blindly, and as he heard a beep, he removed it, blinked a few times and looked at the screen. It showed the words “MATCHING PATTERN – PLEASE WAIT” for a second, then all sorts of information about him appeared, including his name, home address, date of birth, education, bank account number, and even, to his horror, a school photo which he looked absolutely horrible on.
“Was I drunk when they took that?” he said to himself with disgust, then looked back at the screen. The information about him had been replaced with a big “Thank you for registering your Pokédex. Your ID number is 0439522166”. Mark pressed A and now it showed the main menu, indicating that he wouldn’t need to do anything else for the set-up.
Curiously, he selected the option “About the Pokédex”. The voice immediately started speaking again.
“The Pokédex was invented by Professor Samuel Oak of Kanto. Its original purpose was, in Oak’s words, “to be an encyclopedia for the trainer to get more information about his or her Pokémon, and to automatically and safely record the data of any undiscovered Pokémon a trainer might see on his or her journey in order to tell fact from fiction when it comes to new Pokémon discoveries”. Since then, all sorts of useful features have been added to the Pokédex’s usefulness and now it is the only essential tool a Pokémon trainer must have, combining the various devices that have been developed in the different parts of the world for all kinds of Pokémon-related purposes. After Oak retired, the development of the Pokédex was continued by his grandson, Gary Oak…”
Mark decided not to listen to all of it so he stopped it. Finally, to register Charmander to his ID number, he held the Pokéball up to the scanner and pressed A.
“Charmander – lizard Pokémon,” the Pokédex announced. “It is very vulnerable to water; if the flame at the tip of its tail dies, so does this Fire Pokémon.”
The screen then asked if he would like to view this Pokémon’s stats; he chose “No” and it showed the main menu again, except that now it said “1 Pokémon caught” at the top left corner.
Mark turned the Pokédex off and walked into the hotel again.
“Back?” the woman asked, not looking off the newspaper. Mark nodded.
“So, your ID number?”
“0437522166,” Mark said after turning his Pokédex on again to check. The woman entered it into the computer.
“Mark Greenlet?”
“Yeah,” he answered.
“All right, you said one night?”
“Yup,” said Mark cheerfully. The woman handed him a key labeled with the number 387. Assuming that the Pokédex had handled the payment automatically, he walked up some staircases to room 387, which turned out to be a neat-looking but small room, walls painted white but floor with a dark blue carpet.
Mark flung himself on the bed and sighed, letting his mind flicker across the day’s adventures.
The Legendary Pokémon, of course, had most of his attention. He had set it as his goal to reach Green town in time to see Chaletwo. If only he could ever know what was up with its similarity to Mewtwo. Mark sighed again.
Apparently, the Color Dragons and Waraider weren’t confirmed to exist… yet, Mark found himself somehow certain they had to be real.
Still, Mark decided he would at least make sure to reach Green town before the twenty-fifth before planning anything else.
His stomach made a loud gurgle to protest this stupid distraction from the bare necessities of life, and Mark rose lazily up.
“Let’s get ourselves something to eat,” he muttered, knowing that Pokémon could hear the outside world from inside their Pokéballs. He went down to the hotel’s restaurant and Mark ordered a pizza for both him and Charmander to celebrate the first day of their journey after making carefully sure that Pokémon were allowed.
“By the way,” Mark asked as they started greedily attacking the pizza, “you never actually answered. Do you want to evolve?”
“Dunno,” said Charmander as Mark took a sip of his coke. “I’ve heard that Pokémon can go through a huge mental change when they evolve.”
“Yeah,” said Mark eagerly; this was exactly one of the few things in Pokémonology he found to be very interesting. “It’s because if Pokémon don’t have very defined beliefs and a determined personality, their added power after evolution can result in arrogance, the sudden realization that humans are wimps, and just an overall change in their views on the world. It depends on you, really.”
“I’m not sure, I don’t want to change mentally… but I want to be strong, and to fly as a Charizard one day.”
“They say that late evolution helps in these aspects,” Mark commented. “Personality changes are usually biggest in Pokémon that evolve immediately when they reach their minimum evolution level.”
“Yeah,” said Charmander absent-mindedly, watching a Pidgeotto flying outside the window. “That’s probably best, just evolving when I’m properly ready…”
He looked at Mark. “I’m a bit nervous, though. What if I just reach level 16, evolve – and turn into a completely different person?” There was worry in his voice.
“You just need to hold back, you can stop your own evolution without much trouble,” Mark said reassuringly.
“Yeah,” said Charmander, sounding more comforted. “You’re probably right.”
***
After they ate, Mark suggested that they would go up to the Lake of Purity and catch some Pokémon. Charmander liked the idea, so they decided on that.
“Charmander, look around for wild Pokémon too,” Mark said, sending Charmander out of his Pokéball as he walked along the road to the Lake. Tall grass surrounded it in both directions; small bushes poked out of the grass here and there.
“What’s that?” asked Charmander, pointing. A purple tail, curled up at the end, stuck out between the grass blades to their left.
“I think it’s a Rattata,” said Mark thoughtfully, “but I don’t really want one, they’re pretty puny…”
The Rattata seemingly took high offense to this comment, however, as it immediately leapt out of the grass, baring its fangs.
Mark had never really liked Rattata, but seeing one in real life, he found it kind of cool-looking. The shiny, bright purple fur of its back blended smoothly into the pure white of its belly, paws and head below the nose. Two long whiskers vibrated on either side of its face, sensing small changes in the air; shimmering red eyes full of determination stared hatefully at his face and then turned to Charmander with a low growl.
“Rattata!” the Pokémon cried in a high-pitched voice, leaping at Charmander, who quickly swished his tail forward into the purple rat’s face. Smacked sideways with a burn mark on its cheek, the Rattata let out a cry of pain, but nevertheless stood right up again and raced head-first towards Mark’s fire lizard.
“Dodge!” Mark shouted, suddenly now remembering that he was supposed to be giving his Pokémon orders. Charmander ran to the side, more of instinct than obedience. The Rattata followed angrily, and finally took a well-calculated leap at the lizard’s tail, biting it firmly.
“Charmander, try scratching it,” Mark suggested, Charmander already raising his claws. With an angry “Mander!”, he slashed the Rattata across the face.
“Raaat!” screeched the rat Pokémon, stepping a bit backwards as it started to wag its tail rhythmically. Charmander’s eyes followed the curled tail end; left, right, left, right…
“Don’t be distracted by it, it’s trying to catch you off guard!” Mark called. It was too late, though; the Rattata leapt at Charmander with a triumphant battle cry and tackled him to the ground. Growling, Charmander slammed his tail flame into the Rattata’s face again; he was still too inexperienced to use proper fire attacks, but the fire on his tail tip was always there. The rat Pokémon screamed in pain, but then retreated into the tall grass.
Mark shrugged. “Well, I didn’t want to catch it, anyway. At least, you did great, Charmander.”
He said the last words in an attempt to sound cheerful, but he couldn’t help thinking that his own part in this battle wasn’t big.
***
When they arrived at the Lake of Purity, they found that it was crowded by tourists and trainers. Pokémon battles were going on all around; noisy Pokémon cries and their trainers’ shouts filled the air.
A huge tourist information sign was positioned near the lake itself. Mark walked up to it, recalling Charmander into his Pokéball in fear of somebody tripping over him or something.
The sign told some useless facts about the Lake of Purity, like its size and how there were no rivers in or out of it – and then, the legend behind its purity, which was the only thing Mark was really interested in on it.
It was far longer than it had to be; it was basically an extremely dramatic description of how Suicune had saved the city, which was small then, by cleaning the lake and banishing the Gyarados that terrorized it. Since then, Suicune had raced all the way from Johto to purify the lake every night.
Mark realized that he had an extremely broad grin on his face and quickly told it to look normal. He looked back at the text. Below the legend, there were a few words that seemed especially directed at him:
WARNING: Legendary Pokémon possess power that no human could dream of and should never be attacked, provoked or even approached. Travelers are advised to leave the Lake before nightfall.
The warning, of course, wasn’t likely to convince many foolish people like Mark that trying to see Suicune wasn’t worth the risk. Much more effective, however, were the “Missing” reports below, telling the reader of people who had seemingly just vanished into thin air near the Lake of Purity at nighttime, the only trace being a bit of red, coloring the dried grass blades on the bank the next day.
Mark quickly decided he could just see Suicune sometime later and turned away from the sign. The crowd was thinning, so he had some space now. Mark threw Charmander’s Pokéball to the ground and it popped open, releasing Charmander in a shower of red light before bouncing right back into his hand.
“Should we go into the tall grass?” Charmander asked, pointing at a patch of grass near the left side of the lake.
“No, I think we should try in the trees over there,” said Mark, grinning as he looked towards the right.
They walked over to the trees and Mark picked up a small rock. Not bothering to aim, he threw it towards the nearest tree-top. Disappearing into the denseness of leaves and branches, the rock apparently angered one of the inhabitants of the tree; an annoyed chirp of “Pidgeoooott!” was heard as a streak of brown and crème shot upwards and then dived down towards Charmander.
“Uh oh,” Mark muttered before issuing his command: “Charmander, dodge!”
The fire lizard attempted to duck, but the bird Pokémon grabbed him with its talons and took off into the sky.
“Hey!” Mark shouted. “Let go off my Charmander!”
The Pidgeotto grinned devilishly and flew over the lake, threatening in very clear sign language to drop the fire Pokémon into the water.
Mark knew that the pigeon wouldn’t dare breaking the Agreement by murdering a trainer’s Pokémon, but he didn’t like being taunted in this way at all. His hand moved towards Charmander’s ball.
“Pidgeotto,” he announced loudly, “come back here and face me like a Pokémon!”
The Pidgeotto made a rude sign with its talons, at the same time emphasizing its false threat by releasing one claw off Charmander, who was stiff from fright; his instincts made him fear water more than anything else in the world.
“You asked for it,” Mark sighed, holding out the Pokéball and recalling Charmander into it before sending him back out, now with both feet on the ground. The Pidgeotto dived at Charmander again, but the lizard took both Mark and his opponent by surprise when he opened his mouth and released a cloud of silky flames which engulfed the unsuspecting bird Pokémon before it managed to turn. The pigeon’s scream of pain died down quickly as it fell to the ground with a thump, scorched black.
“Whoa, nice Ember,” Mark congratulated his Pokémon. “Good job, Charmander. Only too bad I didn’t get to catch it.”
“Sorry,” said Charmander apologetically. “I didn’t even know I could do that…”
“Yeah, seems like you just reached level seven,” Mark explained. “Charmander learn Ember around that point.”
“Hey, look,” said Charmander, pointing. A yellow armadillo Pokémon with shiny scales watched them keenly from a safe distance.
“Cool, a Sandshrew,” Mark said, his expression brightening up. “Ground types are always useful, I’m going to try and catch it. Charmander, attack!”
They ran towards the Sandshrew. It curled up into a tight ball from instinct before the jet of flames Charmander fired from his mouth reached it, and the tough scales mostly repelled the heat. It showed no intentions of uncurling afterwards.
“I guess I’ll have to resort right to the ball now,” said Mark, rather loudly in order for the Sandshrew to hear him well, and then took out a Pokéball. He paused, waiting for reactions, but when there were none, he hurled the ball at the armadillo Pokémon.
The sphere hit the yellow, scaly ball, opened around the middle and the Sandshrew was transformed into pure energy before being drawn into the ball in a beam of red light.
The ball fell to the ground. First it was still, then the button glowed blue as the ball slowly started rocking to the sides. Mark watched it intensely, clenching his fists automatically as to telepathically prevent the ball from opening again. Gradually, the ball slowed down as the blue light on the button was fading…
The ball suddenly took a sharp twitch, its two halves separating again as Mark disappointedly watched the Sandshrew materialize on the ground. The armadillo Pokémon growled unsurely, realizing that just curling up and waiting was the worse option.
“Ember!” Mark ordered. Immediately, Charmander leapt forward and blasted a jet of flames from his mouth, which hit the Sandshrew before it managed to curl up again. Screaming, the Pokémon stumbled backwards and fell over.
“Let’s see how well you break out of Pokéballs after that,” Mark said, taking out a second ball and throwing it. As it hit the Sandshrew, the Pokémon was absorbed into the ball in the form of red energy before the two halves of the Pokéball closed tightly.
The ball fell to the ground and for the second time, Mark watched the button light up as the ball wobbled harshly in the grass. After a few seconds of fighting between the armadillo and the metallic sphere, the ball claimed victory; the blue light faded away and the Pokéball stilled with a ping, confirming Mark’s first Pokémon capture.
“Wow,” Mark breathed after a few seconds of silence, walking slowly towards the Pokéball and picking it up. The smooth, cold surface of the metallic sphere was wet, the grass it lay in still being covered in water after the earlier downpour. Mark got a creepy feeling when touching it; he actually felt that there was a Pokémon inside it.
He slowly took out his Pokédex and pointed the scanner at the Pokéball. Pressing a button, the Pokédex started speaking:
“Sandshrew – mouse Pokémon. It likes curling up into a ball for protection; its rock-hard scales can repel almost any physical attack. It is also an extremely fast digger.”
Again, the Pokédex offered Mark the option of viewing the Pokémon’s stats. This time he chose “Yes”. The screen immediately showed detailed information about his new partner; it was a young male, level nine; it even announced that he had a careful nature.
“Sandshrew, go!” he shouted, tossing the ball forward. It burst open as it hit the ground and bounced back into his hand as his newly-captured Ground Pokémon formed from a red beam where the ball had landed.
“Shrew?” asked the Pokémon, confused, scratching its head. Mark was going to introduce him to Charmander when he felt a finger tap his shoulder.
“Hey,” said a voice. He jumped, turning around. Sandshrew and Charmander looked around too.
It was a girl, probably around his age. Her most attention-catching feature was her long, blue hair; at the moment she had it tied in two weird ponytails which somehow stuck forward and outwards from her face. Her face looked rather plain, although she had an annoyed expression Mark sincerely hoped he had no part in. A dark blue sweater was visible beneath a white jacket; white shorts with a Pokéball belt covered her otherwise bare legs down to the knees.
“What are you staring at me for?” asked the girl, rather rudely. Mark felt idiotic.
“Erm… what was it you wanted?”
“A Pokémon battle,” said the girl like it was the most obvious thing in the world, plucking one of the two balls from her belt. Mark felt rather confident; he had a level nine Pokémon after all.
“Two on two?” Mark questioned, nodding towards his companions.
“I’d prefer one on one, actually,” said the girl in a satisfied voice, smiling the oddest smile Mark had ever seen. On her mouth’s behalf, it was a normal smile, but her eyes had a glint of something between evilness, confidence and the kind of glint he usually got when he thought about Legendary Pokémon.
“Hey, wait,” said Mark, looking at Charmander and Sandshrew, “this isn’t fair. You’ve seen both of my Pokémon, but I haven’t seen either of yours.”
“Fine with me,” said the girl, shrugging, as she grabbed her two Pokéballs, maximized them into either hand and threw them both to the ground. Two Pokémon formed in a flash of red light.
One was a huge butterfly, with a wingspan of around one meter. Its body was dark blue with a tint of purple; two bright red, compound eyes almost covered the top of the head, but the mouth was light blue with two miniscule fangs in it. In the same shade of light blue were two tiny arms and long feet. Broad, silkily whitish-transparent wings fluttered in the breeze; a fine system of dark veins covered their delicate surface.
The other Pokémon was a giant, metallic vulture; it stood considerably taller than its trainer on two narrow, yet powerful-looking legs. Talons that looked like they could crush bones to dust with little effort dug into the ground. It all shone in various shades of gray except for the bright red, peculiar, sword-like wing feathers. A long, sharp beak extended from its pointed head.
Mark felt confident seeing the girl’s Pokémon. Both her Butterfree and Skarmory were vulnerable to fire attacks, so Charmander should beat them whichever Pokémon she chose.
“Sandshrew, come back,” he said, holding out Sandshrew’s Pokéball and pressing the button. A red beam shot out of it, hitting the armadillo so that he dissolved into red light, and shot back into the ball.
The girl examined Charmander, and not taking her eyes off him, she took out one of her Pokéballs and returned her Butterfree into it. The two Pokémon left took their places and nodded towards each other.
“Go, Skarmory, fly up!” commanded the girl loudly, suddenly speaking very fast.
“Skaaaa!” screeched the vulture in a high-pitched, raspy voice before it clumsily took off from the ground. As it ascended, it gained better control of its flight and then rather gracefully circled above its trainer’s head, watching Charmander.
“Man, are you slow?” said the girl impatiently. “Stop staring at Skarmory like that.”
Mark blushed, envying the girl of being able to focus. He was too fascinated by the Pokémon themselves to concentrate on the battle.
“Uh, Ember!”
Before Charmander could do anything, the girl grinned devilishly. “I doubt anything less than a Flamethrower is going to hit Skarmory up there, you know.”
Mark slapped his forehead and took a deep breath. Why, oh why couldn’t he just think for once? That girl had probably paid much more attention in Battling Strategies classes than he had ever done.
“Skarmory, peck it and then pull up, quickly!” the girl ordered. The steel bird obeyed instantly, swooping down at the fire lizard. Charmander automatically released a small cloud of flames from his mouth, but the Skarmory dodged the fire without much trouble and then jabbed its beak into Charmander’s stomach before shooting upwards again. The lizard tumbled over, almost setting fire to the grass but quickly stomping on it to put it out as he rose up again with difficulty.
“No, wait, Charmander – try lying low, and then the Skarmory can’t get to you without crashing!” said Mark, getting a strategic idea. The girl smiled triumphantly as Charmander obeyed.
“I hope you will remember from now on that you should always take into account the possibility of TM moves,” she announced before ordering in the Pokémon battle voice: “Swift!”
“Ska-a-a!” the steel vulture cried, flying high above Charmander and releasing a flurry of sharp, metallic feathers from its body. Charmander was bombarded by them and got covered in cuts. Moaning, the lizard attempted to stand up, but failed. Mark felt terribly sorry for him, but he found a certain determination that made him want to at least try in his first trainer battle.
“I can keep this up for however long you like,” said the girl calmly. “You can just as well give up.”
Mark shook his head, feeling dislike for this girl as well as the painful knowledge that most of it was jealousy.
The girl sighed, rolling her eyes. “Another Swift, then.”
Her Skarmory nodded loyally, preparing to shake off more steel feathers. Mark opened his mouth, just to say something, got a sudden idea and blurted out as quickly as he could:
“Melt them!”
Charmander used his last strength to lift his head; he spewed a cloud of flames upwards, enveloping the feathers, and for a moment, it seemed like Mark’s plan was working.
Then, white-hot, but not melted, the feathers all fell through the fire, visibly tearing up Charmander’s flesh like knives. He cringed in pain; Mark looked down, unable to watch what terrible torturing he was putting his friend through.
“You think a small Charmander’s Ember is hot enough to melt Skarmory feathers?” asked the girl, raising her eyebrows. “Man, you need to study.”
No words were necessary; Mark just silently recalled the badly cut Charmander into his Pokéball, accepting defeat.
“Well – anyway, I’ve got loads of training to do now, I’m planning to challenge the Gym leader tomorrow…” said the girl, recalling her Skarmory – as Mark noted especially – without any compliments at all. She looked at him as if wondering if it would be appropriate to say goodbye, but then just turned swiftly around and hurried towards the city.
“What level is that Skarmory of yours, anyway?” Mark called after her.
“Seven,” she shouted back, disappearing behind a hill.
Mark stared, feeling more than ever that he was completely lousy.
He sent Charmander, who was still bleeding, out, and took one of the blue spray bottles from his bag. Carefully, he sprayed it on the lizard’s scratched skin, muttering constantly about how extremely sorry he was for making Charmander suffer like that. The wounds slowly started to heal right before his eyes.
“This feels good,” Charmander said in relief. “Kinda tickling, but cooling and pain-easing. And yeah, you’re forgiven; pain is an inevitable result of any battling.”
After a few more seconds, there were barely any traces of the cuts left. Mark looked up, smiling, to find that he was alone with Charmander.
The clouds in the west were blood red, but it quickly faded into the purple and finally dark blue of the evening sky.
I shouldn’t be here, Mark immediately thought, glancing at the missing reports on the tourist information sign and imagining his photo and name on it. Panicking, he looked at the lakeside.
The air chilled as a graceful, dark blue shadow rushed out from the forest to the right. The elegant, catlike shape stopped at the bank of the lake, to be illuminated by the moonlight which now flowed out after a cloud passed above.
The head, which now was to Mark’s horror staring straight at him, belonged to a darkish blue feline. White, diamond-shaped spots covered the slender body. A crown-like crystal shape seemingly grew backwards out of its head like a pointed upside-down U. Two long, pearly white ribbons floated in mid-air by its sides, rippling gracefully like the ocean’s waves. A long purple velvet-like cloak which appeared to sprout from the base of its neck moved in similar soft waves.
“Suicune,” Mark whispered, forgetting all about missing reports. By his side, Charmander also stared, stunned, at the Legendary Pokémon.
Suicune did what Mark could’ve sworn was a small bow or nod, and then a white paw carefully touched the water’s surface. Instantly, Mark saw the purification spread out from the place where Suicune had touched the water. As suddenly as it had come, the graceful Pokémon sped back into the woods.
At that exact moment, a terrifying shape rose from the lake.
A dark blue, scaly monster or dragon, rising high above them, staring at Mark with terrifying, red eyes and a gaping, fanged mouth…
The Gyarados’ roar drowned Mark and Charmander’s screams, but as Mark was preparing to turn away, he quite clearly heard English in the roar:
“No! Don’t leave!”
The monster’s voice sounded desperate, almost terrified.
“You – you can speak human?” Mark croaked.
“Yes, but that’s irrelevant. What matters is that you stay here, understand?”
Mark slowly came a few steps forward, blindly obeying the beast without thinking about the possible consequences.
“No, don’t come so near.”
He stopped, confused.
“Step back!” the Gyarados ordered.
“Why?” Mark asked, puzzled and terrified at the same time.
“DON’T TEMPT ME!” Figuring that at least he could barely be worse off that way, Mark took three steps backwards.
“Tempt you how?”
“I don’t want to lose you like the others before I even started explaining myself.”
“What others?” Mark asked, nevertheless having a strong feeling about who they were. The Gyarados didn’t answer; just turned its head towards the tourist information sign with a pained expression. Mark felt sick.
“Look, that doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is getting me out of this place.”
“What…”
“I need to get out of Suicune’s reach!”
“Suicune’s?”
“SUICUNE IS A DAMN MURDERER!”
“I don’t understand…”
“It doesn’t matter! What you do is catch me and get me to a Pokémon center. You must not tell anybody where you found me. You must never mention what happened here to anybody. If you just do that, I will serve you with all my might forever. Agreed?”
“But…”
“There’s no time for questions!” the Gyarados hissed. “Just do it!”
Mark backed away.
“PLEASE!” the Pokémon roared. “Please…”
The giant sea monster lowered its head, shaking it, then looked up again, its eyes full of water.
Mark stared open-mouthed at this turn of events. They were likely to be crocodile tears, of course, but the desperate tone in the Gyarados’ voice throughout the conversation made them look a lot more real.
After all, it couldn’t hurt, could it?
“O – okay…” Mark said doubtfully, taking out a Pokéball and throwing it as well as he could at the sea serpent’s body. All of its gigantic shape was transformed into bright red energy which was then sucked into the ball as it bounced back to land on the bank. The ball didn’t wobble; the monster wasn’t showing any resistance at all.
He carefully walked over to the ball like the Gyarados could suddenly burst out of it, then bent down and had to collect his courage before touching it.
He turned around, to Charmander.
“Incredible, isn’t it, how such a large Pokémon can fit into such a small ball?”
Charmander looked puzzled. “Umm, now that you mention it,” he answered, “yeah, it’s kind of weird. Why are you suddenly asking about that?”
“It’s just…” Mark paused, trying to think of the right words. “Oh, let’s just go down and get him to a Pokémon center. Or her? Wait…”
He took his Pokédex out of the side pocket of his pack and pointed it at the Pokéball.
“Gyarados – atrocious Pokémon. Evolving from the weak Magikarp, Gyarados are known to sink ships on occasions. They are among the Pokémon that have dragon-like powers but do not have the genetical structure of a true Dragon Pokémon.”
The statistics appeared on the screen upon Mark’s command.
“OK, it’s a he, at least. Level 20… I’ll crush the Cleanwater City Gym with him…”
“Are you sure? The guy uses Legendary Pokémon, remember…”
Mark shrugged. “Perhaps. But Gyarados is a strong Pokémon, and… HOLY MILTANK!”
“What?” asked Charmander, seeing that what shocked Mark so much was something the Pokédex said, and he wasn’t tall enough to see the screen.
“Just look at those stats! They’re much higher than what an average Gyarados is supposed to have. And look at this picture of a typical Gyarados – if you compare the color of the armor to the one I just caught, mine is darker than Gyarados are supposed to be…”
“Odd,” said Charmander simply, not that interested. “Shouldn’t we go down to town and get Gyarados healed like he asked?”
Mark just shrugged, still with his mind on Gyarados’ odd qualities.
(A/N: This chapter had quite a few references to me in Mark, emphasizing the way that he’s partially one side of me. The biggest one, though, is Mark’s ID number, 0439522166. 04395 is the ID number of my Gold version, 22166 is the ID number of my Yellow version (or was, before it got deleted). Same with Mark’s odd paranoia about Charmander not being there when he knew perfectly well that he was inside the Pokéball.)