Chapter 14 - Liberation

Accumula Town was Unova’s fastest growing settlement on the eastern peninsula, and it was a sight for Cecilia’s sore eyes. The city looked as if it had carved a small space within a forest, with the way it was surrounded by countless trees whose leaves Cecilia’s companions called blue-green in color. The buildings were packed wherever the uneven terrain permitted, mostly narrow blocks of brick and dark timber rising three or four stories above pale stone streets. Accumula had been built along a slope, forcing the town into layers. Broad staircases connected one level to the next, and from certain streets Cecilia could look directly across at the upper floors of buildings whose entrances sat an entire story below her. 

Despite its rapid growth and the large amount of construction going on, there remained a surprising amount of breathing room. Enormous public squares and parks with plenty of greenery, fountains with rows of benches, and despite all of its growth, it remained a pedestrian-focused town in a car-centric country.

Cecilia and the others had been idly chatting while booking it for the Pokemon Center.

“I mean, there’s a reason this town is ranked as the best to live in, I guess,” Cheren said with an analytical look. “It’s got all the pros of a big and small one all packaged together.”

Bianca was too busy taking in every sight to care. She still had the stray Lillipup following by her feet alongside Tepig. The two did not get along despite the fire type’s best attempt, but Lillipup seemed content to remain at the blonde’s side, at least for now. She did not have any place to return to, after all.

“It’s a cool place.” Hilbert placed his hands behind his head. His starter was in her Pokeball, having not slept well last night because of some nightmares. “I’m making note of the restaurants we pass by.”

“Restaurants?” Cheren adjusted his glasses as they turned a corner, Snivy hot on his heels. “Why restaurants?”

“You’re the only one who’s ever left Nuvema, and it shows!” Bianca cheerfully said. “I mean, the same two diners our entire lives? That gets tiring!”

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “I—I guess that makes sense.”

“Maybe we can all go together later tonight or tomorrow,” Cecilia said. They wouldn’t stay here long—only a day or two given that she was on a schedule and the others were eager to give the Striaton Gym a go.

It was nice, hearing them all speak and be kids together. Hilbert and Cheren’s ambitions would have them grow up quickly should they come even close to succeeding, and they would miss these days in time, just as she did for hers.

Her sights on Accumula had her thinking about the city through a political lens, if only to keep her wits keen before they made it to Striaton—mainly she wondered why the town was growing so quickly. She did not believe she’d be capable of solving it by the time they would leave. The city did not sit on favorable land—in fact, it was more difficult to build here than not. There was no navigable river close by, no abundance of natural resources that she knew of, and the surrounding forest constrained expansion in nearly every direction. 

They found the Pokemon Center soon enough, its glass pane facade gleaming in the sunlight. She heard murmurs when she entered the building. Cecilia Obel, they whispered amongst themselves, and it wasn’t as if it was difficult to tell, with her height, her facial scar and her irisless eyes.

Not wanting to let their intrigue go to waste and needing to define herself before others could do it for her, the dark-skinned teenager wandered straight toward one of these groups—three individuals, one of them with a Scraggy puffing out its chest as if to defend its trainer.

“Yes?” Cecilia asked. 

“H—huh?” one of the boys stumbled over his words. He was such a young little thing, free of any blemishes from the harshness of the world. “Sorry?”

“You were looking at me quite intently. I figured you wanted to speak,” she lied with a tilt of her head. 

“No. Sorry if we bothered you.” The girl dragged her friends away by the arm, whispering to them ‘I told you not to.’ Scraggy punched the air in her direction and scuttled away, pulling at its loose skin.

Cecilia blinked at them as they left, a cold anger simmering within her heart, not at them, but at the world for having taken control out of her hands. It had made her act up and force the issue, most likely worsening these three’s views of her, and for what? She mastered said anger, smothering it with a deep breath. The cold of the air-conditioned room spread through her lungs as she closed her eyes.

She really needed to get a hold of herself; it wasn’t the last time her reputation would get under her skin.

She would not always have control, and it was best she relinquished that notion now before the consequences went beyond a couple of embarrassed kids fleeing from her. She needed to be the bigger person to be treated seriously. This kind of pettiness was beneath her station.

She rejoined her companions currently in line at registration. They’d have to wait a while, given that this was the busiest Center in town. Accumula really ought to build more given that it had become a hub of travel for those looking to get to Striaton from the south.

“Is everything alright, Cecilia?” Bianca leaned forward, worry worn across her face. 

While Cheren and Hilbert had been discussing spotting a nice spot to battle some trainers, she’d seen right through her facade.

She smiled at the blonde. “Nothing you need to worry about. Thank you, though. I appreciate it, truly.”

The blonde scratched the side of her cheek. “Do you maybe want to explore the city later?” she whispered. 

Slowking’s words reverberated in her head. A crush. A few months ago, an old friend of hers had gotten one on her as well, and Cecilia had handled it disastrously. She needed to handle this one with a softer hand—if it was even true. She wasn’t certain it wasn’t just idolizing her for her strength and independence.

The Unovan held back a dark chuckle. If only she knew how little of either Cecilia actually possessed. 

“Maybe the boys can come with us.” Cecilia nudged her head toward the two in front of them.

At her feet, Tepig gently headbutted Bianca’s ankle.

“I, um, was thinking maybe… maybe just the t—”

She stopped when the nurse at reception called them over. Sometimes, Bianca’s forwardness surprised Cecilia. She was a shy and sheltered girl, but courageous all the same. Still, Cecilia would table the matter until she figured out how to let her down gently.

Booking a room was the same as usual. There were worries about availability constraints, but Cecilia breathed a sigh of relief when reality turned out not to be a cheesy television show and she didn’t need to share a room with Bianca. That would have ensured enough awkwardness for a lifetime. 

Before letting them go, the nurse warned them. “I’d be careful about going through the main square a few streets down if I were you,” she said. “There’s going to be a big Plasma rally there and tensions are high, especially with their most ardent supporters being there.”

“I wouldn’t want to run into one of those cosplaying goons,” Cheren agreed with a nod. “Thank you, nurse.”

“Now that we’re out of Nuvema we’ll come across them a lot, huh…” Bianca mumbled, voice slightly shaken. “I hope we don’t attract any trouble.”

Hilbert, meanwhile, was silent, and there was a curiosity in his eyes that Cecilia had learned to spot now that they’d traveled together a while.

Needless to say, after they all settled into their different rooms and they reconvened as they were supposed to, Hilbert was nowhere to be seen. They’d gathered in his room, and the dark-haired boy’s jaw clenched as his teeth ground together. 

“Arceus, why does he always do this?” Cheren lamented. “Now our whole afternoon’s gonna be taken up trying to find him.”

“Why worry this much?” Cecilia asked. “It’s not as if he’ll get himself killed or attacked—” she stopped herself, realizing her faux pas. 

They’d learn to ignore such statements from her, which honestly came out of her mouth before her brain could even catch up.

The scarred girl cleared her throat. “He’s fifteen. He’s grown, and not stupid.” She shrugged. “He’ll be fine.”

Cheren shook his head. “No, no, you don’t understand. I’ve known him even longer than Bianca, and it’s only a matter of time until he gets into some trouble on his own. With Pokemon, he’s fine, but with people? Dragons above, he might be getting tricked into something already!” His leg bounced anxiously. “I can go look for him on my own. Ms. Cassidy will kill me if something happens! I told her I’d take care of him.”

“Ms. Cassidy’s a sweetheart!” Bianca said before her shoulders sagged. “But when she’s disappointed in you it feels like she’s hitting you with a bunch of hammers, it’s true.”

It must have been frustrating, to be Hilbert and to see yourself treated like a child constantly.

Cecilia crossed her arms. “Fine, I’ll help you look. But Cheren—” he’d already been running out of the room, and thus stopped to listen with a hand on the handle. “You aren’t going to be traveling together forever. One day, you’ll have to let him go and allow him to experience Unova for himself.”

The trio had been planning to split once they’d made it to Striaton, though Cecilia knew now that it was mostly because Hilbert had straight up told them that it was either that or he’d just run off one day and not look back. There was a certain brusqueness to his desire to spread his wings, but Cecilia could hardly fault him. Notably, Bianca remained quiet on the matter. No doubt she also wanted to experience the wider world for herself.

“We promised to battle today,” Cheren muttered under his breath before leaving.

They quickly followed behind him, then decided to go their separate ways to cover more ground out of the Pokemon Center. Cheren ran off, phone in hand as he spam called his best friend while Bianca walked at a brisk pace with her two Pokemon still behind her. Her Lillipup greatly enjoyed running, it seemed; these moments were the only ones where she seemed like a stereotypical cute puppy.

“I’m starting to understand why he feels so coddled,” the colorblind Unovan sighed to herself. Her hand slid to her Pokeball belt for a moment, but she remembered she had allowed Talonflame to fly off a few days ago. The fire type was probably on the opposite side of the region by now and would be back whenever she pleased. She faced the clear skies, imagining how blue it must have looked in her mind’s eye. “Ah. How silly.”

A year ago, she would have been terrified of her never coming back. Fear of abandonment had influenced her every behavior, and she’d kept her Pokemon close, by force if necessary. These were the actions of someone she never wished to return to, and she suspected there would be further atonement for her behavior for years to come.

Still, it was best she lived in the present and look forward rather than be plagued and chained by the past.

She had an idea of where Hilbert was, anyway. Their little talk under the moonlight had given her a good idea of who he was. Like a Mothim was drawn to light, Hilbert Cassidy would be drawn to anything that promised to upset the established order—not because he was on their side—he’d already repudiated Plasma’s ideology—it was simply because he was a curious boy.

Thus, Cecilia calmly strolled through the streets of Accumula Town toward its main square, window shopping as she went. Given that she was no longer rich, indulging in whatever clothes fancied her was impossible, but she found pleasure in imagining them on her, projecting whatever color she wanted on the dull greys and whites she saw the world through.

The streets filled up quickly as she reached the main square, and it was there that she saw him. She’d made it just in time to see Plasma’s leader speak.

A small podium had been erected upon the grass, elevated just enough to put its occupant above the steadily growing crowd. They were people from all walks of life, though Cecilia noted that from what she’d seen, there were fewer trainers than ordinary civilians. The crowd was somewhat on the older side as well, though there were a few very young ardent supporters donning Plasma pins or flags. 

Ghetsis Harmonia Gropius stood alone atop it, impossible to mistake even at a distance. His robes hung heavily from his frame. A rigid metal eyepatch covered his right eye, but he seemed extremely approachable. His expression was pleasant, and not the perpetual scowl he’d gotten famous for in Parliament.

Behind him, a row of Plasma members stood at attention in their knight-like uniforms. She’d seen a few amidst the crowd as well, and they left a bad taste in Cecilia’s mouth. Depending on how loyal these ‘knights’ were, they could become a paramilitary force one day, and that path would not end well for the country she loved so dearly. The Plasma Organization might have been banned in parliament, but they still had the right to gather.

The last person who caught Cecilia’s eye was an old man somewhat apart from the rank and file. He was difficult to miss, if only because of his sheer bulk. A massive coat swaddled him from his shoulders to his knees and thick, dark gloves surrounded his hands, yet even in the summer heat, he did not sweat. A stiff collar rose around his neck high enough to frame his jaw, while an absurdly tall cylindrical hat stretched nearly another foot above his head, marked near its base by a simple white cross. 

Somehow, amidst the substantial crowd, their eyes met if only for a moment.

Ghetsis cleared his throat into the microphone with a raised hand, commanding the crowd’s attention. Within the next few seconds, they quieted down, and he rewarded them with an uncharacteristic smile. Ghetsis was not conventionally attractive save for his well maintained, flowing hair, but he was striking. There were some faces the eye simply refused to pass over, and his was one of them. A sharp nose, thin lips, and a single eye Cecilia knew to be red made all the more vivid by the cold metallic patch swallowing the other.

“Ladies and gentlemen, people of Accumula Town,” he began with a hand on his heart. “My name is Ghetsis, and today I would like to talk to you about liberation.”

Cecilia wished she could have released Hydreigon for this; the speech no doubt would have interested him, with his new interest in politics.

“Here at Plasma, we’re known for advocating for the liberation of Pokemon, and that is true. I’m sure most of you believe Pokemon and humanity have come to live together because we want and need each other.” He paused, gauging the crowd’s reaction. “However!” he raised his voice. “Is that really the truth? Truly consider it for a moment. Do you believe that there is no systemic oppression of Pokemon, both wild and owned, in our country?”

Some grumbled at that, but Cecilia knew him to be right. The problem was that he was using these very real issues and tying them to his extremist ideology—of which he had not spoken a word of yet. Smother your poison in enough honey and people would swallow it before they ever noticed the taste. Evidently, the fact that people hadn’t broken out into disapproval meant that they were still on board with what Ghetsis had to sell.

What followed might as well have come out straight from a stump speech. He brought up statistics for those who would disagree with him. The fact that Pokemon could legally be treated like property under certain contexts like inheritance. The fact that there existed a thriving industry where Pokemon were bred like cattle every year and that there was a perverse industry of eugenics to create the best competitive ones for the Big Five to hand out to their sponsors, or even for smaller companies to use. The fact that every year, the Pokemon Rangers, who were supposed to be Unova’s best and brightest, reported ‘accidents’ or rehomed Pokemon without their consent.

He did not need to lie. He simply needed to decide what those facts meant.

“You may not agree with us, but at the very least, you can agree that as it stands, Pokemon and humans are not treated equally, as sapient beings should!” He was fired up now, talking passionately and with a conviction rarely seen among Unova’s political elite. 

People who had scoffed at the beginning were listening now. Others nodded openly. Some even cheered. Even those who looked uncomfortable were no longer speaking among themselves. Ghetsis had managed something Cecilia begrudgingly admired: he had brought hundreds of people with wildly different opinions to the same uncomfortable conclusion before asking any of them to follow him further. He had a way about his speech that was nearly magnetic, honed from his time as a member of parliament.

“And clearly, the oligarchs and their stooge Mark Obel are so terrified of our words that he banned this party from Parliament despite the fact that we were polling at what? Under ten percent? This was such a great injustice that I had to join the party and help them in their fight.” He laughed heartily. “While he lives in luxury atop Mount Vertress, our people are struggling! The same system that keeps Pokemon down keeps you down as well! That,” he tapped a finger against his lectern, “is why I speak of liberation, ladies and gentlemen.” He raised a fist. “When I use that word, I mean liberation for both Pokemon and people. Liberation from these faceless men in smoke-filled rooms who, if given enough time, will run Unova into the ground and divide it amongst themselves.”

There weren’t that many cheers. There also weren’t that many boos, either.

“Arceus…” Cecilia whispered. He’d tied it all together, hadn’t he? If she could communicate her ideas like that, then she wouldn’t have anything to worry about for Striaton.

Some people who had come here had been convinced, Cecilia knew. Support for the organization would never go mainstream as long as Plasma called for the abolishing of trainers, but he had done a good job of never bringing it up. The idea, she guessed, was to shift people’s mindsets from ‘Plasma is full of insane, crazy people; I’d never support them’ to ‘Plasma is full of insane, crazy people, but they make some good points.’

And who better than its actual leader, to convince them of that? 

“Thank you for coming to this speech, even if you disagreed with me,” he said with a slight bow of his head. “I’ll stay behind to answer questions to whomever wants to ask. There will be a line behind the podium…”

Cecilia had already been slipping away. That entire event had left a bad taste in her mouth, and with it a deep sense of doom of what was to come. At the very least Ghetsis was not young enough to participate in the Circuit, and he had no Pokemon. If he’d been twenty and had a talent for battling, they would have had much more to worry about.

“Excuse me,” someone said behind her as soon as she exited the main square.

She turned around, hands twitching close to her Pokeballs by instinct, and recognized the bundled up man she’d seen on the podium. Looking back, she had been paying so much attention to Ghetsis that she hadn’t even noticed him leaving the stage—he hadn’t been there when Ghetsis had finished speaking.

The Unovan frowned. “Yes?”

“You’re Cecilia Obel, aren’t you?” The old man took her silence as an agreement. “You are. If I may have just a moment of your time? My name is Zinzolin Bellamy.”

She ignored the odd-sounding name and tilted her head. “What for?”

Zinzolin smiled, face wrinkling. “Peace, Ms. Obel,” he said. “I believed you to be estranged from your family, but perhaps Ghetsis’ words struck a nerve.”

Cecilia bit her lip. Did he really think she cared about the criticism Ghetsis had for her brother? Her father? She mastered her anger, tongue pressing against the back of her teeth, and offered him a pleasant smile back.

“Of course not. It’s simply not every day I’m approached by an individual in Plasma’s ranks.”

“Maybe I was unkind, but I simply wanted to see if the apparent decoupling from your family was truth or facts. You know what Crescent Global peddles these days.” He waved a hand dismissively. 

She stayed quiet for a short while, wondering if she should stay or leave—the benefits and the costs. She was being manipulated, she realized, and expertly so. Despite not knowing her at all, Zinzolin knew exactly how to reel her in. What could he want from her? An unlikely alliance because of her issues with her family? A backchannel into what Mark was thinking and planning? Before her Conference battle with Grace, before her many late nights seeking Cynthia’s guidance, this would have worked.

Not today.

“I want nothing to do with my father or brother,” she dryly said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m looking for my friend—”

There he was. Right in front of her when she turned away amidst the dispersing crowd, Oshawott at his feet.

Facing a slender, long-haired boy with a cap and a cube chained to his waist.