Ashes: Chpt 7

Disclaimers: I do not own Pokemon. Maybe now? Nope, still don't.

AN:// This chapter has been a long time in coming. I’ve actually moved in the years since I wrote the previous chapter. I moved to Japan, believe it or not. It kinda threw me off in terms of writing but I’m trying to pick it up again.

I’ve become too picky with my own work. So I’m trying to write fanfiction again in an effort to force myself not to be picky with my original work either.

So now, I have been trying and trying to write Ash into that forest so he can grab a Pikachu. No more playing around. He’s going there now. Let’s begin.

Last Time on Ashes:
A push, missing instructors, a confession and a prophecy.
Quote: "You can't listen to her. Anyone she's soothsays for... Anyone who's not the king. They die. They all die. She predicts only death."

Chapter Seven: Pikachu Hunter

Down an unknown road to embrace my fate
Though that road may wander, it will lead me to you
And a thousand years would be worth the wait
It might take a lifetime but somehow I'll see it through
-Michael Bolton


For once, he was the only one who remembered anything.

Satoshi’s hand stalled between the jars of preservatives, wondering if the luxury would be worth the weight of a ceramic jar in his pack. Ultimately, he decided on a small jar of apple jam which he stuffed deep into his knapsack before he could regret it. While the prince could cook, his abilities were centered around very bland, near tasteless recipes. The sort of things you’d cook if you had nothing better at hand. Somehow he knew that the castle living had spoiled him. Satoshi didn’t think he could stand living off of tart berries or turnip gruel… at least not right away.

He had been wondering why he knew he could cook. He had scattered memories of stoking campfires and chopping up roots for thin meager stews. If what Haruka said was true, that meant he picked up that basic cooking skill as a means to survive when he ran away four years ago.

Learning that really made Satoshi feel better. It made his plans to run away tonight far less terrifying. After all, he had already done it once before.

Satoshi took to studying the various jars of spices and salts on a shelf a few paces down. He knew some of these would be useful but the words on the labels kept swimming before his eyes. He just couldn’t concentrate. The prophecy that wicked seer had given had seemed to slip innocuously beneath his skin. He could feel it even now; the words pounding out their beat into his bones.

And in the end, when all comes to light...

Satoshi jumped at the sudden sharp cracking of glass. Bulbasaur, who had been rooting around underfoot, leapt back with a snarl. Unconsciously, Satoshi had managed to knock several spice jars off the shelf. He bit back a string of curses, looking furtively towards the pantry doors. It was late, but not late enough that someone wouldn’t have heard that.

Only dead air answered. Satoshi allowed a few beats to pass before he let out the breath he had been holding. Clearly the servants were either finished for the evening and off to bed, or working in a different kitchen.  

The prince and his monster were sequestered into a small corner pantry of the southern kitchen. There were three in total but on most days, only the northern part was used. On feasting days, the kitchens could hold a massive amount of cooks and food- all bustingly about with seemingly endless energy. The sight was completely overwhelming and yet oddly comforting. And once again, Satoshi was given pause. For how could a prince know all this but his servant be utterly clueless?

In the first few weeks after he had lost his memory, Satoshi would simply sit against the far walls of the kitchen, listening to the noise and breathing in the comforting scents of woodsmoke, grilled meat and bread. It brought back a sense of himself, enveloping him in its folds. He spent hours just silently soaking up the world around him. The healers were far more forgiving back then. They’d let him wander, advising the King to leave him be so that he could recollect himself on his own. Satoshi still felt that urge. Even now, he relished the thought of just finding a comfortable corner and waiting till the morning bustle woke him. It was as if something was brushing the surface in those moments. As if he could just almost recall everything if he just waited patiently enough.

But that wasn’t what he was here for now. Satoshi swept a few more useful looking items into his pouch and crept quietly back out of the pantry. Bulbasaur, who was anything but cooperative most days, kept mutely to the Prince’s side.

Satoshi would have helped see Haruka to her quarters. She was groggy and disoriented upon waking. She didn’t seem to remember inviting the Prince out to meet her. Which made regaining her senses in his arms amongst the shrubbery of the Queen’s gardens all the more alarming. Satoshi had hoped that he’d have someone to commiserate with. That he could tell her the prophecy that still spun alarmingly clear around in his head and see if there were some way to avert it. Because unlike Haruka, who had woken gently, Satoshi had come back to himself in a wild surge of terror; still drowning in the throes of his spoken prophecy. His arms ached with quiet tremors that he couldn’t seem to quell, as if still keeping beat with the words.

He couldn’t break the truth to Haruka. So, in spite of himself, Satoshi weaved a tale of how he just happened upon her in the gardens. There was no need to bring up all the rest. She accepted it easily, as he knew she would. And when she had taken her leave of him, Satoshi immediately went back to his preparations from before.

But why bother staying? He had thought. If I leave, renounce my throne, I won’t be a Prince anymore. And then the prophecy… it can’t kill me.

He couldn’t face the King himself. As Satoshi was sure that in a sober mind, with the pressing night given way to morning, he’d be talked out such a dangerous course. After all, the world is full of life threatening monsters and bandits that would love to do a young inexperienced Prince in. The only danger he faced inside the castle walls was a superstitious fear of an old woman’s words.

All the stories warned against those who tried to escape destiny. But Satoshi was never one to accept his fate quietly. So if he couldn’t ask permission to renounce his title, he’d simply have to disappear… again.

The evening moon had painted the empty corridors an eerie silver. Satoshi and Bulbasaur walked through the squares of light fearlessly. Though heavily laden with his supplies, he was still Prince in this castle. He wouldn’t have to explain himself to anyone; except perhaps his Father or… well, or Hiroshi. But the chances of running into either in the winding halls of the outer bailey was highly unlikely, especially at this hour. Although someone could certainly assume that Satoshi was up to something unscrupulous, the young crown prince was well versed in the appearance of confidence. In that, Kyo had taught him well. So long as the crown prince maintained the look that he was supposed to be there, head held high, even march and staying in the frames of the torch light, no one would question it.

He passed a few guards that saluted but said nothing. Satoshi said nothing back. It wasn’t until he reached the twisting stairs leading up into the depths of the curtain wall that prince and pokemon slunk into the shadows. It was one thing to walk the halls of his own home. No amount of bounce in his step would explain away being up on the battlements. It was the place for patrols; for security and defense. Concerns far outside the realm of a pampered and teenaged crown prince.

There was no one currently posted on this section of the wall. Satoshi knew they walked it in shifts and even if the wall was empty, the guard towers were not. He had to be quiet if he wanted to rappel down without being discovered.

Thankfully the feral hatchling that was trailing by his ankles seemed aware just how imperative stealth was at this moment. Without having to communicate a word, his reluctant tagalong mutely followed his lead out into the humid autumn evening. Satoshi inspected the wall walk; searching for the best section of the parapet to loop a rope about. He settled upon a slightly upraised merlon hidden in the shadow of the nearby guard tower. Quickly, his hands shaking in haste, Satoshi latched the rope around the cropped stone and tugged twice to ensure its strength.

It was as safe as Satoshi could manage to make it. Now, for the hard part. Satoshi looked down at the hatchling waiting patiently by his knee.

“You ready, Bulbasaur?” Satoshi whispered, cringing inwardly at the awkward address. Why was he calling his monster by its species? Why hadn’t he thought of a name for him? Even if Satoshi had never accepted the hatching officially, surely it deserved a name. But now that the thought had struck him, all plausible nicknames seemed disingenuous. Bob? Bulba? Flower? Those were all awful. It was easier just to go on addressing him as Bulbasaur. After all, that was what he was. Best not to get hung up on the details. “Alright there, Bulbasaur? You’ll have to go first.”

The hatchling blinked its large bulbous eyes in response. Satoshi took that as a go ahead. But the moment he tried to loop the rope around Bulbasaur’s thick torso, the hatchling danced out of the way. The crown prince, to his credit, persisted. They wrestled about with the rope for a good ten minutes before, sweaty and utterly frustrated, Satoshi came to his breaking point.

“Bulbasaur, come on!”

Satoshi tried to pin the monster with his legs so as to tie the rope around its midsection. When blind nips and squirming didn’t buck off the stubborn human, Bulbasaur gave out a croan of his name. Satoshi froze, giving Bulbasaur just enough maneuverability to squeeze himself out from under one leg. Instinctively, Satoshi threw down an arm to block his escape. Again the monster nipped and bit but Satoshi was determined to keep the advantage. As the monster gnawed on Satoshi’s arm, the prince tried to pull the pokemon in closer- calming it. It almost worked. The monster had been so distracted with chewing on the human’s hand that he didn’t notice the rope sneaking its way back into being.  But the instant the rope swung back into its line of sight, Bulbasaur crowed again. Satoshi felt the hairs on his neck rise. Bulbasaur’s voice was noticeably out of place in the quiet of the wall walk. And by the smug look on the hatchling’s face, Satoshi suspected Bulbasaur knew it too.

It only took one more quiet cry for the human to finally release him. Bulbasaur scrambled clumsily away from Satoshi, giving his disheveled bulb a fluttering shake. He sent him a triumphant smirk that Satoshi returned with disgust.

“Fine. Stay here. See if I care,” Satoshi spat. He flung the rope over the parapet behind him before climbing back to his feet. Satoshi continued to grumble to himself as he slung his pack on and crawled over to the wall’s ledge. Then he cast one last look at the monster. Bulbasaur was watching but still carefully out of reach should Satoshi change his mind. Bah! Satoshi thought angrily, with a toss of his head. Leave him. You never chose him anyway.

Satoshi grabbed onto the rope and carefully slipped over. The top of Bulbasaur’s head peeked over the parapet from where Satoshi dropped. He gave one croak of his name but did nothing to follow. Satoshi tore his gaze away and glared furiously at the stone wall dead ahead.

“It bonded with nothing and no one. And as such, would never survive in either human or monster world..."

Satoshi resisted the urge to box Kyo’s voice out of his ears. It was too late now. He couldn’t go back for the stubborn monster.

“Hiroshi will take care of you,” Satoshi whispered, more for his benefit than for the little monster still up on the wall. “You’ll be fine.”

Swallowing a guilty heart, Satoshi continued his slow progress down the wall. It wasn’t as easy as he had hoped. He hadn’t exactly learned this before; climbing and rappelling down walls. For what use could that be to a Crown Prince. Princes led front lines. They didn’t scramble over battlements like common soldiers. And they certainly didn’t try to escape their own castles by such means.

Satoshi knew the basic principle of the thing. He watched the soldiers do their drills. You used your arm strength with the rope to help hold your legs in position to, essentially, walk up the wall. Satoshi assumed you would do the same to go back down, except backwards. Except… his legs didn’t want to move. He was just stuck hanging a few heads down from the parapet, with Bulbasaur’s face still peeking down at him. His feet gripped the wall and his hands were tight about the rope. But he couldn’t manage the move down. He was sure that any movement would cause his boots to lose said grip. How was he supposed to do this thing?

Perhaps if he just gave himself a little bouncing start. He had watched the soldiers do something similar, hadn’t he? It wasn’t so much a walk backwards as it was like a collection of controlled leaps. They’d push off the wall, slide down, and then push off again. Satoshi would just have to attempt the same.

So he gave a stuttering push off and loosened his grip on the rope. He slid far and fast; faster than he had intended. Satoshi tried to catch himself but he had waited too long. His boot slid off the wall like ice and the rope tore at the flesh of his hands; still he tried to stop, tightening his grip on the rope that burned fire. The sudden motion swung him like a hangman. Gravity flung him sharply backwards, sending the rope flying out of his fluttering grasp.

People had always told him that death had a way of bringing back everything. Satoshi assumed then that he must have relieved his whole life when he tumbled down the staircase. He had gotten a chance to know himself twice before he lost everything. And Satoshi would have supposed he’d get something now too. But everything happened too fast.

He hadn’t even a chance to cry out. His body cut through the dead night as silently as a fallen leaf. There was no time to remember who he was. No time to even think on what little of himself he had recollected. Though perhaps it was less the fault of Satoshi’s slow mental faculties and more the credit of Bulbasaur’s lightning reflexes.

In the mere seconds it took for Satoshi to release the rope and to fall ten feet, Bulbasaur’s vines shot out. They latched tightly about Satoshi’s wrist and upper arm. The sudden stop popped the Crown Prince’s shoulder and flung him backwards into the curtain wall. Satoshi was aware enough to stifle his pain into an airless cry.

It was still all too much noise. He could hear movement up in the guard tower and see a dull torch glow through the notched murder holes. Satoshi gripped Bulbasaur’s vine with both hands and pressed himself against the stone wall in the hopes of melding with the shadows. He never more wished that the stationed guards would fail at their job.

Somehow, luck still favored him. The light faded and the sounds disappeared. But it was still several minutes before Satoshi could quell the hammering of his own heart. He was still dizzy and breathless from his fall. Pain ached raw from his shoulder that was still bearing the brunt of his weight. Arms weak and head still spinning, Satoshi couldn’t reach for the nearby rope that still swung innocently with the breeze.

Bulbasaur’s vines shook and shuddered as they tried to keep the prince aloft. Satoshi could sense the pokemon was huffing and puffing itself pink in the face, all to save him. But… why? Had Kyo’s cruel training actually taken root?

Satoshi suddenly dropped a foot before coming to a jolting stop. And then a second. Satoshi grabbed tight to the vines coiled around his arm. He suffered through another shuddering plunge. Satoshi squeezed his eyes shut to keep from looking down. He knew Bulbasaur couldn’t hope to pull him back up. But how long were his vines? A fully grown Venusaur could wrap their vines around an entire wooded glen- crisscrossing like a spider’s web to take down wanton predators. But his was just a Bulbasaur. And not only that, but a fairly young hatchling. It was truly a testament to the monster’s breed that it had been able to catch Satoshi at all.

And yet, through some miracle, Satoshi’s dangling legs finally touched ground. He sank down to his knees gratefully, still hanging by his ensnared arm. The weight he bore gone, the vine went slack. Satoshi felt it slipping off his bruised and battered arm and caught the end just as it slipped passed his fingers.

“Thank you,” Satoshi whispered to it. Then looking back up the impossibly tall wall, he made a promise the monster couldn’t possibly hear. “I’m coming back for you.”

He let go and the vine silently slipped back up into the darkness.

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There was no way he was getting back up the way he came. Not with his dislocated shoulder. Not that Satoshi really thought he could tackle the wall even uninjured after what he had just went through. It would probably be awhile before he could face heights like that again. No, Satoshi would just have to carry on with his original plan with the amendment that someday, he’d find a way back for Bulbasaur. He’d just have to trust that the monster had time to wait for him.

Satoshi reluctantly climbed back to his feet and surveyed his surroundings. He had come down into a small field somewhere outside the postern gate. The cool evening breeze tugged at his clothes. The wind tossed the scent of rain through the air. Satoshi wearily eyed the dark clouds that were gathering threateningly at the edge of the night sky. Already his escape was mired with more problems than he could have anticipated. He hadn’t counted on rain.

The village proper was due south of him. He could see the cluster of huts, their shadowed outlines illuminated by the silver moon. The village looked far more inviting than the gnarled forest at its border. Even more so now that rain threatened.

Visiting the village, however, was never part of the plan. There was too much risk involved. Though there was only the slimmest chance someone could recognize him, the chance still existed. And with it, the risk of getting others caught in the crosshairs of his escape. Satoshi wasn’t sure what the punishment would be for aiding and abetting a runaway royal, but knowing his father, it would certainly be unkind. Besides, once he was discovered missing, that would be the first place they’d check.

No, the plan was to stay far from the village’s torchlight. He planned to cut through Tokiwa forest, dangerous as that was. Satoshi had until morning to put as much distance between him and this castle as was humanly possible. Then, once he had reached a settlement outside his father’s borders, he’d sell off his clothing- piece by piece. The buttons alone would probably get him a whole restock of supplies. But more importantly, ridding himself of his rich garments would make him both less of a target from bandits and more invisible to the common passerby. He was never as gaudily dressed as his father, but his shirts were still expertly tailored; the fabric of his tunic still so rare as to have possibly never been even seen before by the common peasant. The sooner he shed himself of his former life, the better.

But he was getting ahead of himself, wasn’t he? The loss of Bulbasaur definitely put a hiccup in his plans. Satoshi hadn’t intended to travel monster-less. While he certainly would have stood out with a monster in attendance, (something only affluence or thievery could earn you) it was protection against the forest and whatever else the world might throw at him. Satoshi slipped into the woods with a heavy heart, only all too aware how he couldn’t even handle climbing down a rope without a monster saving him.

Satoshi might be momentarily back to being a monster-less prince but he’d soon change that. The whole point of this venture, before prophecy muddled things, was to get a Pikachu’s egg. Satoshi could feel it now, pressing at the veils of his memory. Pikachu was the key to all of this. If he could just get an egg and raise the hatchling- everything he lost, everything he was and everything he would have been, it’d come back.

He believed this so fervently that even the pernicious whisper of prophecy couldn’t deter him. Though it might chase him from kingdom and duty, Satoshi refused to accept yet another dissenting voice against his monster claim.

Your quest to harness Lightning shall be rewarded with Water's fire.

What was that even supposed to mean? Satoshi scoffed as he climbed over some particularly thick tree roots. And what’s that nonsense about harnessing lightning? That’s not why I want a Pikachu.

It felt good dissecting the prophecy in this way. Better to focus on the absurdity of the first verses so as to remove the sting of the final.

Rewarded means that I get Pikachu, then. Satoshi concluded. And even if it doesn’t, I’ll subvert this false destiny. I’ll live by my own terms.  

A light rain had begun to filter through the forest’s canopy above. It wasn’t long before Satoshi was soaked through. His clothing wasn’t meant for weather or warmth, simply wealth. An absolutely pointless function, Satoshi thought through chattering teeth. What had started as a cool evening had turned uncomfortably cold in the wet and the damp. Satoshi hugged himself, mindful of his tender shoulder, as he trudged on through the increasingly irksome undergrowth. He had never realized how difficult it was cutting paths where other humans hadn’t tread. Even scrambling up small boulders and low overhangs left the young prince wheezing for breath.    

Already his calves were starting to burn. Satoshi didn’t know how long he could keep up this pace. He needed to keep going until daybreak at least. Even without the rain, mud and incessant throbbing pain from his injured shoulder, Satoshi knew he was inevitably going to tire. He just hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

Fatigue was adding weight to his limbs, making him clumsy. He kept twisting his ankle on the unexpected tangle of undergrowth. Or slipping about on the damp leaves. Satoshi leaned against a nearby tree, unable to resist plopping down at its base. It was gnarled with age; its bark cut uncomfortably into Satoshi’s back. But he needed the rest. Even a bed full of nails would have been welcome in Satoshi’s current exhaustion.

Satoshi closed his eyes, lulled by the soft patter of rain. In the forest’s quiet echoes, his mind began to play. It brought to life the ghosts of people he once knew but could no longer recognize. And in his dreams, they acted out their scenes for an audience half blind, half deaf. He watched them move but recognized no details. He heard them speak but understood no words. This was the way of his dreams. They danced for him and Satoshi fell comfortably into the sway of their indiscernible certainty.

The dry snap of a tree branch brought Satoshi back to himself. He had no idea how long he had been out. The night was still dark and rain still dripping from the trees above. There was another crunch and then a rustle through the undergrowth behind him. Satoshi groggily stumbled to his feet. Heart in his throat, Satoshi strained to listen to and not just hear what was coming.

Footfalls. Those were definitely heavy steps. Had he been tracked down already?

Satoshi tried to continue as before, attempting to mask the sounds of his walk with quieter and more well timed steps. The rain had begun to pick up. It ran in torrents down his face, stinging and blinding. No matter how many times he pushed his hair back, it still dripped back into his eyes. He was cold, wet, tired and terrified. Thunder rolled in the distance. And still the footsteps followed him.

Satoshi could barely see his own nose in this curtain of rain and darkness. The trees jumped out of the night at him, giving him only just enough time to dodge. And he could hear the footfalls getting louder. They gained. And as they gained, the clumsier and sloppier Satoshi became. He began to abandon hope of stealth as he stumbled into a quicker stride. But as he increased his pace, so did his stalker. His walk gave way to a jog which in turn stumbled into an all out mad run. Satoshi frantically careened his way through the pressing trees, spurned on by the dashing steps behind him.

It was near impossible to see. So panicked, Satoshi wouldn’t have seen the outcropped rock even if he could. His boot caught on the small piece of limestone, throwing him to the ground. Or where Satoshi supposed the ground to be. But instead he fell through dead air. The second time that night Satoshi fell, except this time there was no one to catch him.

He tumbled down the ditch through leaves, mud and scratching undergrowth. His world a messy swirl of pain and raindrops. Satoshi came to a stop face down at the bottom, his body limp and torn. His head was buzzing with the fall. And he laid still, breathing in the dirt deeply, trying to take stock of his injuries. That he was alive was a welcome surprise.

Satoshi had no way of knowing if the footsteps had followed. And at the moment, he couldn’t care. Maybe if he just played dead…

A soft hum by his ear caused Satoshi to open his eyes at last. And what met him almost made Satoshi squeeze his eyes shut again. He was staring full long into the sleeping face of a wild Pikachu. Satoshi fumbled backwards, almost tumbling carelessly into another group of the slumbering monsters. In fact, Satoshi quickly realized that he was surrounded by at least thirty of the yellow rodents. All of them curled up into unassuming little balls, their snores a pleasant hum to Satoshi’s ears. Satoshi sat on his knees, staring in something between awestruck wonder and horror. Somehow, he had actually fallen into a Pikachu nest.

And there they were. Just feet away, amongst a huddle of the largest pikachu; three gloriously yellow and black striped eggs. Even from here, Satoshi could see the blue sparks playing across the eggs’ surface, hinting at the power waiting within.

Only all too aware of the excess noise his clumsy breathing was making, Satoshi carefully slipped his pack off his shoulders. He fumbled about amongst the clinking bottles and bundles, his fingers finally wrapping about his prize. Leather gloves, though unable to protect from an actual monster bolt, it would enable him to handle the egg’s static. He had anticipated pikachu eggs being larger but they were hardly any bigger than a pidgey egg. Satoshi suspected he’d have little trouble slipping the egg into his pack. He simply moved the contents around, squishing down a bread loaf, pushing aside the jelly jars and using his only blanket as a cushion. It wasn’t perfect, but the egg should be safe.

Satoshi slipped on the gloves and carefully dragged his pack over to the small cluster of eggs. The Pikachu slumbering nearby looked particularly grizzled, which didn’t help Satoshi’s nerves. They had scars along their face, marring their short yellow fur. Some had chunks missing from their twitching ears. One of the oldest, with the tattered and graying fur, was missing a tail. While it gave their fearsome reputation credit, the sight actually made Satoshi a little sorry for them.

Pikachu were seen as some of the most dangerous monsters. Egg Hunters that were often hired to steal from other monsters, were hired to outright murder pikachu. Matthies was one of the best pikachu hunters of this century and even he still came back from every hunt just by the skin of his teeth. Matthies tried to capture a few. But he always had better luck with more docile lightning monsters. Pikachu wouldn’t tame. They wouldn’t warm to humans. Not like Bulbasaur could. There was no living with them, not with how easy a single spark could stop your heart. It was like trying to settle on top of an active volcano. You were taking your life into your hands every day.

But no one had stolen an egg. No one had tried raising a Pikachu from hatching. If he could just bond with one, surely all the danger would disappear. Satoshi only hoped it wasn’t a suicidal as everyone seemed to think it was.

Satoshi reached out a hesitant finger to the nearest egg, only to recoil at a passing spark. His hands were shaking badly and sweat was beading along his brow. Satoshi clutched his hands to his chest to still them. He took a deep shuddering breath and then reached out once more. This time he used his full palm to touch the egg. The crown prince flinched as a spark teased its way over his gloves. There was no pain. Satoshi let out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

This was it. Here he was, actually touching it. An actual Pikachu. His Pikachu. Satoshi gingerly reached out a second hand, taking the egg securely by both sides. Now all he had left to do was to scoop it into his bag.

But he was awkwardly positioned, kneeling over a couple of the slumbering pikachu. He couldn’t lift the egg without accidentally brushing into them, either those by his feet or the ones huddled by the egg itself. Satoshi shuffled and waddled his way about the sleeping creatures, careful not to let go of the egg. Once he had gotten free underfoot, Satoshi realized his pack was too far away. Satoshi tried to reach out his foot to slide the bag closer. But as he leaned back to hook his toe around the strap, his forearm bumped into a cold nose. Satoshi lurched back at the same time as the monster. But the damage had been done.

The pikachu, or something related to the pikachu, blinked groggily up at him. It was tinier than the other monsters, with large bat-like ears and a tiny black tail. Sleeping amongst the egg shells, Satoshi hadn’t noticed it at first. But now the pieces lined up in his mind. He was staring down at a pikachu hatchling.

“Shuush. Good little monster. Good baby pikachu,” Satoshi whispered, wishing he could let go of the egg. “Please go back to sleep.”

The baby pikachu just stared. Then it leaned closer to where Satoshi knelt rigid, sniffing curiously at his arm.

“That’s it,” said Satoshi. “There’s a good baby. See, nothing to be afraid of.”

The pikachu huffed and drew back. Then it opened its mouth wide and sunk all of its tiny teeth into his forearm. There was no helping it. Satoshi dropped the egg and lurched back clutching his wound. He cried out and worst of all, fell backwards into a small group of the slumbering pikachu. He quickly rolled out of the squirming mass of yelping monsters. But not before one grazed him with a glancing bolt.

He had been trying to get back to his feet. Satoshi had seen the bolt arcing through the air. He thought he had dodged it. It simply brushed his fingers as he fell back, scraping his skin like a wire brush. The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced- anything that he had ever remembered. The initial hit tossed control straight out of his body. It started in his fingers before burning up into his chest and encapsulating his heart. His heart seized and rattled about his ribcage. He was frozen and snapped apart by a single touch. Then, at last, Satoshi collapsed a miserable quivering mess. Even as sensation returned, Satoshi couldn’t keep his body from buzzing, shivering. All his nerve endings frayed.

Dear lord. What is this? Satoshi thought, fighting his shuddering limbs into helping him back to his knees. He could see them now. While he laid convulsing, the pikachu had encircled him. They were spitting and hissing, bodies coiled and sparks flying from their cheeks. It seemed that he really didn’t need to worry about a prophecy killing him. He was quite good at doing himself in all on his own.

What have I done?

Satoshi tried once more to get back to his feet. His arms flopped uncooperatively; his boots unable to find purchase in the mud. He started when another bolt whizzed by, this time striking a tree behind him. The trunk exploded outward, showering the crown prince with shards and splinters. Satoshi crawled backwards only just managing to lift up his hands defensively.

“Please,” Satoshi sputtered. “I’m sorry. Please, I didn’t mean- I didn’t.”

He was surrounded by the ferocious creatures, their teeth bared and beady black eyes glinting in the low light. This is what he had been searching for. These beings of pure condensed lightning. Satoshi was staring right at them and he felt nothing. There were no flashes, not even a ghost of a memory teasing him. All he ever wanted; poised and ready to kill him instead. And Satoshi was numb with fear. He could hear the prophesy again through the pounding in his ears, counting down the heart beats he had left.

And in the end…

The nearest pikachu snarled as it hunched right before Satoshi- its body humming with stored power. The electricity radiated off its body, fur standing on end and steaming the rain that dared to fall upon it. Satoshi scooted away, his back hitting the dead tree behind him. He tried to kick out but the vicious creature easily dodged. When Satoshi kicked out a second time, it sunk its teeth through the leather somehow sending a small shock up the prince’s legs. Satoshi cried out and kicked the pokemon off before it could send a stronger current through his boots.

The Pikachu came back, sliding in the mud, sparks flying and poised for a second attack.

When all comes to light…

The air was buzzing with the energy now. Satoshi watched as death crawled towards him with teeth bared.

“Please don’t,” Satoshi hadn’t even realized his tears had joined the rain. They were there in the hitch in his voice as he screamed, “Please! Stop!”

And then something did come. In a single flash of lightning, the pikachus vanished. And in their place a monstrous creature reared back its head. He could see dripping fangs and horrible pitless eyes staring down at him. It struck at his face and Satoshi screamed again; his voice cutting through the fanged vision and throwing his current reality back into place.

A prince of Tokiwa…

There was nowhere to go. He was hyperventilating, disoriented by passing vision and still shaking with the tremors of his recent electric shocks. The pikachu were closing in and Satoshi couldn’t bare to face them any longer. He hid his face in hands, sobbing.

“I’m going to die,” he said to no one.

...will die in the fight.

There was a crack that lifted the Crown Prince’s head. He watched through parted fingers as smoke filled the clearing, pouring from a strange nut. The pikachu recoiled, hissing and spitting in the sudden smog. The smoke bothered Satoshi as well, stinging his eyes and forcing him to cough. It was odoriferous, like trying to swallow pepper.

A sudden thing cut through the mass of rodent monsters sending them spitting and hissing into the air. It was solid shape of spinning water, slicing through the rain before coming to a gentle stop at Satoshi’s feet.

A shell. The Crown Prince watched in astonishment as the shell sprouted blue legs, a fuzzy tail, arms and then finally a head. A monster had popped out. It was reptilian like Bulbasaur but much larger in size. It stood at nearly half Satoshi’s height. It had furry wing like ears and large brown eyes. Eyes that were upon him now. Satoshi cowered in the new monster’s gaze. Did he somehow invite a new horrible creature to do him in? At least, that’s what he thought until the monster winked at him. Winked.

“Wha-”

Something large landed neatly in a crouch between him and the new monster. As the monster returned its attention to the encroaching pikachu, this new thing, a human Satoshi realized, climbed to its feet. It appeared to be a young man garbed in a thick high collared tunic and with a sleeveless cape tied about his shoulder. And tied about his head, the ornate and frighteningly eyeless helm of a mystic; a monster sorcerer.

Only the lower half of his face was visible to Satoshi. But by his clean shaven appearance, Satoshi speculated the man to be no older than himself. The man’s lips smiled at him. The sight sent a new thrill of terror through Satoshi.

“Phoon!” The man shouted, turning back to his monster; his high voice hinting at his youth again. “Let’s go!”

The monster let out a hearty cry and spat three quick successive spurts of water at the encroaching pikachu. Those struck fell back, sputtering. It seemed to do little other than piss the monsters off further.

Satoshi was about to say so. That was until the Mystic had him by the arm, yanking him to his feet. The young man forced Satoshi behind himself, effectively shielding the prince as his monster cut a path through the pikachu’s nest. Satoshi kept a stumbling pace, too bewildered to protest. The turtle ahead of them continued to spit torrents of water into the faces of the pikachu that drew too close. But even Satoshi realized it couldn’t work forever. Once the pikachu got over their caution and realized the turtle was merely a water element; they’d hit back far harder.

“Your water monster,” Satoshi got out breathlessly. “It’s naturally weak to pikachu.”

“I am aware,” returned the mystic.

“Then what are we-”

Satoshi caught movement from the corner of his eye. One of the pikachu had looped around and moved to attack the side there was no water turtle on. It leapt, somersaulting straight down at the crown prince. Its tail glowing with some white hot power that Satoshi had no idea any Pikachu possessed. Satoshi threw up his arms to protect himself, only to have himself painfully pushed back. The Mystic was there. As Satoshi fell to the ground he watched the scene unfold before him. As if in slow motion, the Mystic reached up and neatly caught the electrified tail with a single gloved hand. The electricity sprayed out but none of the sparks sunk into the man’s skin. And with a single motion, he tossed the monster away, sending it tumbling back from where it came.

“How… How did you-”

The Mystic yanked Satoshi back to his feet but spared him a smile, “Magic.”

Then they were off, quicker this time, jogging in the wake of his pokemon. Always one step ahead of any clever ruses from the chasing pikachu. He’d dodge before Satoshi even noticed the monster, always shielding Satoshi safely behind. It was like a twisting spinning dance they were attempting, the likes of which he had never learned. But he allowed himself to be led through the motions as they left the nest behind.

Only once did Satoshi try to step away from his would-be rescuer. He hoped to retrieve his pack and the egg waiting nearby. But the mystic pulled him back unkindly, restraining him by locking his arm behind his back.

“Let go! I need to get my egg!” Satoshi cried. “It’ll all be for nothing if I don’t, please!”

“Not today, pikachu hunter.” And that was it.

The further from the nest they ran, the more their pursuers dropped off. Until at long last, the trees had thinned and they had come to rest in a grassy clearing. It was here he was tossed aside like that of an unwanted sack of grain. But Satoshi was too exhausted and grateful to complain much. He laid on the ground, breathing in the warm scent of the damp soil, so grateful to be able to breathe at all. He peered wearily up at his rescuers, surprised to find that they were looking down at him just as curiously.

Satoshi had never seen a Mystic in person before. They usually stayed in the northern territories where their strange ways were more tolerated. His father had never been a fan of their witchcraft and after what he witnessed tonight, Satoshi could see why.

This man caught lightning. In his hands. That kind of power was just frightening.

What Satoshi knew about Mystics could probably fill a thimble. Though Satoshi suspected that it was really no more than what most people knew. They were spell casters who worked closely with their pokemon partners. They were chosen young and raised in the various mystic tribes. Sometimes Northern Kingdoms let mystics choose royalty as initiates, so great their respect of them. That was, of course, something King Sakaki abhorred. He often chastised the Northern Kingdoms for their superstitious faith and the Mystics were never off his list of criticisms.

Mystics fought blind with their masks covering their face, using trickery and magic to get the upperhand. And they never paid egg hunters for their pokemon partners. In fact, they were collectively against egg hunting as a whole. They often worked tirelessly to stop it whenever they could. Running into a mystic would certainly ruin an egg hunter’s day.

Satoshi didn’t have to wonder why this Mystic was so rough with him when he tried to go back for his egg. That little myth was clearly true.

And that was all, really. For what more could you know about a secret society of magic users that kept even their face hidden at all times?

They stared each other down for a good minute before the Mystic finally broke the silence.

“Are you some kind of idiot… or what?”

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To Be Continued...
Please Read and Review!

It seems I am always apologizing for the wait between chapters. I’ll spare you any more excuses and just say that I am trying to be better. A lot of it had to do with my own self doubt and criticisms, feeling like nothing I was writing was ever good enough. I’m working to fight those useless thoughts.

I mean it worked with this chapter. I wrote 75 percent of it in just two days. Where normally I spend years spitting out chunks at a time, going back and rewriting, and then deleting as I start back from the beginning.

I want to make it a goal of mine to at least post a chapter for both Blind Alley at least once a month. This is my update for May. Here’s hoping I can hold to this goal and have another chapter up for you this July.

Next time, Satoshi will face down a Mystic completely monster-less.

If you enjoyed, please leave a review! I always love to hear from my readers!