Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 

Cecilia Obel paused at the crest of a hill, uncapped a pen, and scribbled another line into the small leather notebook she'd bought the day before. Unlike her diary, which had slowly become a catalogue of social blunders to avoid and hard-earned lessons about connecting with people, this one was reserved for something larger.

Observations about Unova.

A country could not be changed by assumptions. She needed to log everything of note, starting with this:

Route one was quiet. A narrow strip of asphalt wound through gently rolling hills, broken only by the occasional pickup truck or old car humming between Nuvema, Accumula, or the few small towns around the route before disappearing over the next rise. Every few minutes another would pass, never enough to disturb the silence for long. 

Like around Nuvema, nature didn't seem pushed back by civilization here. The wild bloomed all around, wild Pokemon frolicking around the tall grass swaying around the road. Lillipup bounded through the fields, occasionally startling flocks of Pidove into the air. Farther off, a family of Deerling grazed on grass and laughed amongst themselves. It was like something out of a story, peace made sacrosanct.

Weak Pokemon thrived here, hidden away from the threats that lay beyond by the Rangers. One often heard about the awful consequences of their actions—and there were many—these little slices of peaceful existence could not be ignored.

Her pen idly tapped her book as she stared at the monochrome horizon ahead. This place reminded her of Sinnoh’s future. The region had routes like this, if only less car friendly. Unova’s rise as the richest nation was easy to understand, when one looked at routes like this. Even the middle of nowhere had made the movement of goods and people between towns and cities easy, and was ignoring trade through rivers.

They were capable, even if it was by happenstance; if the trainer population around the eastern peninsula was higher, Cecilia had an inkling these lands wouldn’t be anywhere as idyllic. Trainers not from one of these small towns around had no reason to venture this far south.

It was important to note, if someone wanted to calm the unrest bubbling right under Unova’s skin come the end of Mark’s reign.

A waving giant in the background made Cecilia close her notebook before she could move on to the topic of Striaton. Her Golurk lumbered through a nearby field, yet wild Pokemon feared him not. His immense clay frame was worn smooth by age, every limb crisscrossed with fine fractures that revealed the power pulsing below. Everywhere he walked, music followed. Hidden beneath his hardened shell, ancient machinery whispered a song.

The Unovan waved back with a girlish smile unbecoming of her status, but she’d stopped worrying about that long ago.

“Lehmhart! Come sit with me.” She patted the prickly grass to her side.

With dexterity that betrayed his size, the ghost sat down to watch the rolling hills with her in comfortable silence, a long arm resting on his raised knee. Not seeing color was something Cecilia wasn’t used to, but knowing her friend had lived centuries past this way had given her the strength to push forward.

“Made any friends yet?” Cecilia asked. 

The Golurk’s head robotically turned her way, and he raised a single finger. His song changed to a single, long whistle that seemed to call for something. A couple of Deerling down the hill jumped up and down, smiling at them.

“Ohh. That’s fun.” Lehmhart’s mechanical heart was full of warmth, and everywhere he went, friendship followed, as short lived as they may be. It was a skill Cecilia wanted to learn, but she’d found no such luck yet. “What song did you play them?”

They spent the next ten minutes or so talking. Just a few months ago, such a warm disposition with her team would have been unfeasible. Mount Coronet had left her scarred and full of ghostly energy that had greatly altered her, down to even her sight. Yet it was the damage to the trust her team had in her that had taken the longest to heal—and even then, it was not fully mended.

It would take more than a few months to forgive her for nearly throwing her life away in a quest for revenge against Jupiter. She’d killed her, but at a great cost, having Lehmhart play his grimmest of songs to force them both to perish.

But things were looking up, now. One step at a time.

Unfortunately, a scream forced them to cut their conversation short. Cecilia’s mind buzzed with possibilities; her ears rang, even if her heart did not hammer in her chest and stayed at the calm, cold pace. Without hesitation, her hand gripped one of her ghost’s fingers, and she silently mouthed please.

With a deep metallic groan, his legs folded into his body segment by segment, locking into place with a succession of heavy clunks. His feet disappeared next, swallowed by his own frame as vents along his arms and lower torso slid open. Light she remembered to be golden spilled from the seams.

Then the engines roared to life right as he placed her on his shoulder.

A heartbeat later, the construct left the ground in a rush of flames carrying Cecilia into the air toward the source of the scream. As wind whipped in her hair and forced her eyes closed, her mind raced with possibilities. Even at their weakest, Pokemon were easily capable of hurting a human. Cheren, Bianca and Hilbert were all nearby, and an accident might have happened.

Cecilia was their chaperone, and she would not let harm befall any of them.

They found Bianca soon enough, landing a few dozen feet away from the terrified girl and the Lillipup growling at her with its teeth bared. Her Tepig was between them, stomping aggressively at the ground as warm air flared from his nostrils.

That was, at least, until they both heard the massive Golurk and saw him land. Cecilia needed to figure out a way to make their flight silent, eventually—but she would table that for now.

Cecilia slid down her Golurk’s back and gave the scene a better look. Bianca seemed unhurt, even if she was still trembling like a leaf and covering her ears with her hat as she crouched. Tepig was slightly bruised, but Lillipup’s fur was bloodied on its flank. A cut, Cecilia noticed. Not something Tepig was capable of.

Even in the face of the massive Golurk, the Lillipup stood its ground and barked, turning its ire toward the ground type while Tepig went to gently headbutt Bianca as if to say the worse was over.

“Keep an eye on our friend here,” the dark-skinned girl suggested to Lehmhart as she paced toward Bianca. Crouching to eye-level with her, she patted her shoulder, letting her thumb caress her. “Hey. It’s okay now; I’m here,” she gently said—almost a whisper. “What happened?”

The blonde’s eyes peeked from beneath her hat, revealing tears and snot running down her face. “I—I—I—” she kept stuttering for a few seconds, then forced herself to take a deep breath. “I saw the Lillipup was hurt, and I tried to help,” she sobbed. Cecilia noticed the broken potion bottle behind her. “It nearly bit me, and then I felt—” Bianca hiccuped. “—a shiver. Like it was the scariest thing. It’s kind of silly,” she sniffled.

Ah. It must have used Leer on her. The Unovan turned toward the canine, who was now harmlessly biting at Lehmhart’s ankles.

“I just wanted to help,” Bianca said.

“Some Pokemon don’t want help. It’s important to be careful and gauge what their response might be before approaching them, Bianca,” Cecilia explained gently. “This isn’t Nuvema anymore. Some Pokemon distrust humans in the wild, or they just aren’t used to their presence and are scared.”

Bianca was a sheltered girl, that much was clear. Her parents had knee-capped her development and knowledge of the outside world, keeping her safe in the confines of Nuvema. If it were up to them, she never would have left at all. Not this year, nor the next, nor the one after that. She would have stayed in Nuvema her entire life, never seeing what was out there.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” Bianca said, eyes dropping to her feet. Tepig furiously shook his head, and Cecilia mouthed a thank you at the fire type for his help. They’d only met this summer, but he was already incredibly loyal and protective.

“No. Just new at this. You’ll see plenty during your travels. Some things will amaze you. Some things will hurt you,” Cecilia said after shaking her head. “And by the Legendaries, there are terrifying sights in the wider world. It can be so hauntingly beautiful.”

Bianca looked up at her with something that bordered on fascination. “Thank you. I—uh—” she looked to the Lillipup.

Cecilia smiled at her. “Don’t worry; we can send it on its way and I can use a potion on its wound.”

“Um. No.”

“No?”

Bianca sniffled. “I want to help Lillipup, still. Can I…?”

How malleable was she, that she was asking for permission from a coworker? “I’ll take a step back and let you do your thing, then.”

——

Bianca Fairchild felt Cecilia’s gaze pierce the back of her head as she gathered her spirits. Patting grass off her skirt and placing her hat back on, she took another deep breath and faced Lillipup, her heart drumming against her chest. She’d been so lame in front of a cool trainer like Cecilia Obel, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that. 

She had a Lillipup to help.

The Lillipup bared its tiny teeth and let out a warning growl that quavered at the edges. It sounded fierce enough from a distance, yet its short tail remained tucked tightly beneath its legs, and its paws dug into the dirt as though it couldn't decide whether to flee or stand its ground. The normal type had stood its ground against one of Cecilia’s Pokemon without flinching, and even if the towering Golurk was back in its Pokeball, even Bianca felt uneasy about the aloof ghost.

Tepig was no longer between the two, and instead had calmed down by her side, tail swaying in the lazy winds. The fire type had been ready to defend her tooth and nail, and he’d make the entire experience… just a little less scary.

“You’re very brave, aren’t you?” Bianca said tentatively at the Lillipup. “I’m sorry we scared you—”

The normal type snarled, baring teeth, and Bianca couldn’t help but flinch. You can’t do this, a voice in the back of her head told her. This is the real world. They’ll chew you through and spit you out like you are nothing. A meek country girl like you can’t survive out there. Her father’s words twisted and turned into her own, because deep down she couldn’t help but believe them.

And yet, here she stood. Lillipup’s eyes flashed with a dark glint, and Bianca felt tears in the corners of her own as a near paralyzing fear took hold of her. She resisted the urge to turn back to Cecilia, to hide behind her and grab onto her wrist like a lost child while she solved all of her problems.

“I’m—I’m sorry I scared you before. I ju—just wanted to help,” the blonde stumbled over her words. She decided to grab another potion from her purse on the ground slowly. Ever so slowly, so that Lillipup didn’t freak out. She sprayed it on Tepig’s bruised flank, and the fire type let out a relieved sigh. “This helps Pokemon, see? And you’re hurt.”

The Lillipup stared, still alert, though no longer baring teeth.

“Why are you hurt?” Bianca asked.

Delaying her journey for two years meant that Bianca had often been sheltered inside during long summers, and this gave her the opportunity to research. While Hilbert just intuitively knew things about Pokemon that ran so deep she wondered how he even thought of them, her knowledge remained surface level.

Still, that was enough to know that Lillipup usually lived in small packs of four to six individuals. 

“Why are you alone?” she asked this time.

The poor puppy closed its eyes as if it was too painful to remember.

“Did a trainer do this? Steal your pack away from you?”

It growled, as if to say no.

“Another Pokemon?”

This time—Bianca noticed the clarity in the Lillipup’s eyes, and clenched a fist. She closed her eyes and worked backwards. Lillipup clearly did not trust humans, but not for reasons she might have outlined. Therefore, she deduced it did not come from here, and instead lived in the deeper wilds where Pokemon hunted each other for their next meal. She believed that it must have escaped here, not knowing what to do, and had just lost its family.

“I’m so sorry,” Bianca cried. “No one should have to go through that.”

The Lillipup collapsed from exhaustion and grief, unable to contain it any longer.

It fell asleep as she applied the potion to its cut.

——

Bianca, Cecilia noted once again, was rather impressive.

By the time they turned back toward camp, the sun hung low over the rolling hills, bathing route 1 in warm amber light. Bianca cradled the exhausted Lillipup against her chest, quietly chatting with Tepig as though neither wanted to disturb the little canine’s rest. She’d simply wanted to carry it somewhere safe while it recovered its strength.

Overhead, Cecilia's Talonflame circled lazily against the evening sky, keeping a watchful eye on the route below. 

Their camp was modest: four tents pitched around a well-used fire ring, with a folding table to the side and a couple of chairs for those who wished to use it. Right now, that was Cheren, peering over what Cecilia assumed were notes with Snivy on his lap, paying just as much attention. Slowking—who allowed them within the camp’s protective barrier—sat a little way away, playing chess with her Toxicroak on a psychic construct.

Hilbert was, as Cecilia was learning as usual, nowhere to be seen. He was probably running around with his Oshawott and would be back in the middle of the night.

Cheren turned around, and his eyes widened once he set eyes on Lillipup. “Did you—”

Bianca shushed him. “It’s sleeping. Quiet.” She bent down, entered one of the tents, and they heard her collapse inside; she was just as tired as Lillipup, even if she’d been good at hiding it. 

Part of Cecilia wanted to have Slowking keep guard, but she found it best not to interfere with the children.

Cheren kept staring at the tent. A hint of disbelief broke through the dark-haired teen’s composed expression. “She caught another Pokemon before me…?”

Unless they were being like this. Cecilia frowned, grabbing her own chair to drag it at the table. Snivy glanced up at her with mild discomfort, but she ignored the grass type. “She didn’t catch it, but even if she had, that’d be okay. It’s not a competition.” Displeasure flashed across his face. “Okay, it is technically a competition, but not the way you’re looking at it. You have plenty of time to catch your own Pokemon.”

Cheren pouted, eyes glancing down at his notebook. Cecilia noticed plenty of options he’d written, some outlined. Purrloin had even been circled in red. “I know. But if I want to stand a chance in Striaton, I need at least another Pokemon to keep up with Snivy’s growth.” The grass type smiled proudly on Cheren’s knees, and he finally followed suit.

Cecilia didn’t want to challenge Striaton’s Gym. She’d heard it was a beginner friendly challenge, and it would be mildly embarrassing for her national comeback if she were to beat the trio first. No, the city would bring challenges of its own, and she needed to learn more about it soon.

At least they’d pass through Accumula first.

The girl knew a lot about her brother, his mindset and the way he believed himself to be the only person capable of herding Unova’s many interests toward a common goal, but she knew little of Unova from an unbiased perspective, still. Most of what she’d known, she’d learned from the conversations her father had when she’d been a child, and Arceus knew he hadn’t been fond of Alder.

Thus while Cheren went back to his idle work and endless planning, she did the same. It was a quiet kind of companionship, almost comforting. The sound of their pens scribbling against paper, and the idle tapping of his laptop keyboard.

Striaton occupied one of the most valuable pieces of land in the country. Perched at the neck of Unova's eastern peninsula, every road leading north, east, or west eventually found its way through the city. Goods from the fertile countryside, timber from Pinwheel Forest, and freight arriving from the northeastern port all converged there before continuing deeper into the region. It was no accident that Striaton had eclipsed Nacrene as eastern Unova's commercial heart. Geography had handed it an opportunity; decades of ambitious mayors, Gym Leaders, and ruthless investment had ensured it never let go. 

That was the story about Unova. Even before Moltres had wiped their only neighbor Orre off the map, what had driven it above and beyond on the international stage had been competition within its own borders. The culture among Gym Leaders reflected this—where Sinnoh’s were like a big family with Cynthia’s at its head, Unova’s were rivals, competitors, enemies, or colleagues. 

It was a double-edged sword, this culture of theirs. The vast, diverse opinions from city to city were good for democracy, but it made responding to the coming crisis a lot slower than it needed to be.

Yet this was not some undergraduate gathering she would be invited to, but a meeting of Striaton’s best and brightest. A modest understanding such as this one would not be enough. They’d be discussing everything from geopolitical events abroad, to Plasma’s rise, to next year’s municipal budget, negotiations with the Big Five—the list went on and on.

No amount of studying would catch her up on so much learned history. In order to not make a fool of herself—and she knew how the rumors would spread if she did—she’d need to treat this like a play. First learn the cast. Who held influence, who merely borrowed it, what each person wanted from the other and to come in expecting every single line.

And every attendee would arrive having already rehearsed their role. She couldn't afford to improvise before she'd even learned the script. 

Yes. She’d start with Cilan.