The Path of Destiny

[Scytherwolf]

The Path of Destiny
Chapter 61 - Deal with the Devil

Cyclone’s army had reached the foot of Articuno’s mountain.

Under the pale light of the moon, many of the elite pokémon who had been chosen to accompany Cyclone paced restlessly at the mountain’s foot. They were waiting to begin the journey to the summit, yet Cyclone held them back, not ready to leave until his scouts returned with information.

“You don’t think Articuno’s taken the stone and left, do you?” a rhyperior asked, nervously shuffling his feet as he looked up at the snow drifting down from the mountain peaks.

“There’s no way the scouts would have missed it if he had,” Solus answered him instead. The espeon looked agitated as he emerged from the shadows near the edge of the group. “Articuno’s up there all right. And if he tries to flee, we could always send the yanmega after him. Not even an ice and flying type legendary could stand up to a Forbidden Attack, even if it’s the bug one.”

“Yenn is inexperienced,” Cyclone interjected, not even turning his head to Solus. “He has not had a chance to use his Forbidden Attack yet; it would be very weak.”

Solus just gave a huff of irritation.

Cyclone continued, “He likely couldn’t strike multiple pokémon at the same time with it. Articuno’s followers would surely kill him before he got far, even if he managed to take several of them down first. As of now, I am the only one who can do this.”

“Then let’s get this done,” Solus responded determinedly, “we need to start looking for the next one.”

Cyclone nodded. He straightened up, looking over each of the pokémon standing in a circle around him. “Remember,” he announced, “Articuno has no means to tell that we have Forbidden Attacks on our side. He’ll think he can defend the mountain from us. The scout that returned earlier told me that Articuno has hundreds of flying and ice types on the cliffs ready to fight us.”

“And you plan to…” the rhyperior began.

“Kill them all if I have to, yes,” was the vaporeon’s reply. “But only once I’m close enough that Articuno will get caught in the crossfire. That is why I am only taking a small group up with me. I don’t want a large battle to happen if it doesn’t need to.”

“We could always send up a lot of the weaker members,” a rapidash suggested. “Let Articuno’s minions waste their time on them.”

“We don’t need to lose any of our number unless we have to,” Cyclone replied. He looked over the pokémon gathered around him. “But expect to run into trouble. Articuno may not know I have a Forbidden Attack, but even though we’re taking a small group, he won’t be fooled into thinking we have peaceful intentions for long.”

“Should I go get Itora now?” an excadrill asked.

“Solus and I will greet her when everything’s ready,” the vaporeon responded, nodding to Silverbreeze. The scyther slunk off to check on one of the groups of battle-ready pokémon who were lying in wait in case Articuno or his followers tried anything funny.

“Very well,” the mole-like pokémon stated. “And we’re not taking either of the others?”

“No,” Cyclone answered. “Yenn and Ashend must wait until they’ve practiced their Forbidden Attacks in the caves before they can take on such a potentially dangerous mission.”

“The scouts are returning,” a stocky houndoom, formerly a member of Blazefang’s pack, spoke up.

Cyclone noticed the small shapes of two of the bird pokémon scouts heading their way through the nighttime gloom. “Thank you, Boneclaw,” he said. He motioned with his tail for the group of pokémon to gather closer around him. “Now let’s see what they have to say.”

-ooo-

On one side of the mountain’s base, a group of large, bluish stones covered a wide range of an otherwise flat field. The rocks were tall and steep, many of them forming small canyons or caves. But most importantly, they served as a shelter from the elements, from the wind and the cold moving down from the mountain.

Not just any pokémon was allowed to shelter there. The best places were reserved for Cyclone’s most important commanders and higher-ups, and of course, his three chosen Forbidden Attack users.

At the moment, none of the three were in their designated resting areas. Instead, they rested on a stone ledge on the edge of a wide, open area, almost like a forest clearing among the tall rocks. Several of the army’s underlings moved back and forth between the stones, either carrying food or reporting messages to some of Cyclone’s commanders.

“I hate it here!” Yenn shouted, hovering in the air a few feet above the ledge and flapping his wings more rapidly in an attempt to warm himself.

Itora glanced at the yanmega and sighed, before calling a charmeleon over. “Turn up the heat,” the manectric ordered, flicking her paw toward the pile of debris that was currently smoldering beneath the ledge the three of them rested on. The fire type nodded respectfully to her and blew a small stream of flame into the pit. Instantly the fire roared to life again, and Itora ordered the charmeleon to fetch more wood. She knew it might take a while; there was very little to burn so close to the ice mountain, and no one dared venture up to the peaks to bring branches from the trees.

Yenn landed back on the ledge, scooting closer to the edge where he could best feel the heat of the flames. Itora looked over at Ashend, and even the ghost type looked annoyed by the chill.

“I sure hope they don’t have to go through anything like this to get one of those stones again,” Yenn growled, turning the attention of the other two to him again. “I’ve waited too long to rip out some humans’ throats.”

“We all have,” Ashend agreed.

“Cyclone says we need more pokémon who can use these special attacks,” the yanmega continued. “How long is it going to take?”

“You’ve waited this long. You can wait a while longer. We’re getting there,” the misdreavus said reassuringly.

Itora’s attention was diverted from the others as she noticed a small and frightened azurill. The tiny pokémon bounded up to a mean-looking sawsbuck to give him some sort of message. The manectric gave an annoyed huff. “Why does Cyclone even let pokémon like that into the army?” the manectric asked, tearing a leg off the pidgey that one of the lower-ranking pokémon had recently brought to her. “It doesn’t even make a good servant. What a waste!”

“At least it’s good for something,” Ashend replied, watching the sawsbuck conversing with it in low tones, looking interested in whatever the water type had told him. The sawsbuck then ordered it away, and the azurill bounded frantically toward one of the openings in the rocks. “At least it…tries to do a decent job.”

“Yeah, sure,” Itora muttered, and glanced to her side, where the ghost type was floating above a large offering of berries and fruits. The misdreavus looked deep in thought, settling back into the silent mood she had been in ever since they’d arrived at the foot of the mountain that evening.

“You’ve been quiet,” Itora muttered. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, dear,” Ashend replied. “I was just thinking. It looks like Cyclone’s only going to be taking a small group up the mountain. I sure hope his Attack is as powerful as they say…” She paused. “You may run into trouble.”

“I’ll be fine!” Itora sighed in exasperation. “Cyclone told us that our attacks will be able to defeat any pokémon.” She gave the ghost type a defensive look. “Of course it’s powerful enough.”

“And I’m sure Cyclone will make sure they don’t run into trouble,” Yenn added. “Cyclone wouldn’t be going up there if he didn’t have a good plan to steal that stone from Articuno. That’s not something he would take lightly.”

“I suppose we’ll soon see,” the ghost type replied, but they could tell she was both annoyed at Itora’s callous attitude and worried about what the manectric might have to face.

A group of scared-looking pokémon approached the rock ledge. A trembling dedenne held more berries, while a persian and a pidgeotto carried prey. All three of them were staring longingly at the array of food placed on the ledge for Cyclone’s chosen three, and the sight of the hapless pokémon made Itora’s sparse fur bristle.

“What are you looking at?” she shouted, leaping up to all fours, scattering some of Ashend’s berries in the process. “Give us the food and get out of here!” The three pokémon obediently placed the prey and berries onto the ledge and left in a hurry. “And bring us better ones!” Itora watched them go with narrowed eyes and bared teeth, then once they’d vanished from sight, she sat back down, scratching at a patch of irritated skin with her hind leg.

“What’s your problem?” Yenn asked her. His wings were twitching a bit, a sure sign that he was feeling nervous or restless.

“They looked at me funny,” Itora growled at the yanmega, baring her teeth. “I’m tired of everyone looking at me funny. Don’t you get tired of everyone staring at your nasty scar?” Yenn didn’t reply and Itora turned back to the new food she had been given. “And I don’t want this stupid rattata they brought either.” The manectric leaned her head down and proceeded to rip the prey to shreds, tossing the scraps over the ledge and into the fire. “Where is Cyclone?” she cried out angrily. “Why do we have to wait here so long?”

“I believe he’s waiting for the scouts,” Ashend told her, trying to hide her worry as she knew it annoyed the manectric. “He’s probably trying to figure out the best plan of action as we speak, so try not to worry.”

Itora just growled and continued to tear her prey apart. Yenn reached forward with one of his legs, pulling the rattata away from her. “Will you stop that?” he shouted. “You’re being disrespectful.”

“You’re being disrespectful,” Itora called back in a mocking voice, trying to imitate Yenn’s. “Who cares. They’re just prey pokémon.”

“Don’t waste prey, got it?” the yanmega replied. “It’s not right to kill another pokémon if you’re not going to eat it.”

Itora sighed in exasperation. This was one of Yenn’s annoying quirks that sometimes got on her nerves. Even the previous night, when he’d beheaded the dead sandslash out of anger toward the humans, he hadn’t left it that way for long before eating it. Why he cared so much, she wasn’t sure. It wasn’t like they were going around murdering every prey pokémon they saw for the fun of it.

“I’m not the one who killed it, genius,” she shot back. Yenn was too busy eating the remains of her prey to reply. For a moment Itora clawed angrily at the stone beneath her feet, where the tattered prey used to be, then she sighed again. “I still don’t know what’s taking so long. I should have been on that mountain by now!”

Yenn stopped eating to look at her again. “Look, Cyclone knows what he’s doing, Itora,” he tried to reassure her. “If he’s waiting, there’s a reason. Try to relax. Cyclone and the others will probably show up to take you to the mountain at any moment.”

Itora wasn’t listening to him. Her attention had been drawn to a pokémon who was making his way through the maze of blue stone off to the right of their ledge. The pokémon was bipedal, with tan-colored fur and a long tail that oozed a strange green fluid at the end. A smeargle.

Itora knew that the smeargle used his tail to paint drawings of Cyclone and the other higher up pokémon, marking their sleeping areas as well as other important meeting places for the army whenever they stopped. Cyclone seemed to find that useful enough, because she had never seen the smeargle do anything else. When he wasn’t using his painting abilities to help with the army’s organization, he was drawing murals on any suitable surface he could find, usually depicting Cyclone or symbols representing the Attack stones. Itora was sure he was only doing it to suck up to Cyclone, which irritated her to no end.

“I really hate that guy…” the manectric muttered under her breath, before shouting, “You! Smeargle! Come here!”

The tan and brown pokémon, who had been crouched down next to one of the taller stones, turned his head to look up at her. Wordlessly he let go of his paintbrush-like tail and stood up before walking silently over. Itora had never heard him speak a word, and she wasn’t even sure if he could, and he was just as silent as always when he came to stand in front of their ledge.

“Listen up,” Itora shouted, her lips curling back in a snarl. “Go find Cyclone and a pokémon who can actually relay a message for me. I want to know what’s going on right now.”

The smeargle gave her a look that might have been one of confusion, but he stayed put.

“Hey, did you hear her?” Yenn growled in irritation, his wings buzzing once before lying flat again. “She told you to do something, so just do it.”

The smeargle cringed back from the sight of the large dragonfly-like pokémon. He gripped his tail between his paws, glancing from Yenn to Itora nervously.

“What are you looking at?” Itora growled dangerously. Her gaze briefly darted to a patch of her own scabbed, nearly hairless skin, and then to Yenn’s scars, before she looked back at the silent normal type. “You’re lucky you’re too stupid to talk because I bet you have something to say. I’ll-”

She shot a bolt of electricity at the smeargle, whose eyes widened as he darted away, running toward the nearest exit from the rocky area as if he’d only just decided to take Itora seriously.

Yenn jumped back, his wings raised as the electricity crackled near his feet. “Watch it!”

“Sorry,” Itora mumbled. “I just don’t like the way that smeargle thinks he can just wander wherever he wants, whenever he wants, never helping or doing anything useful. He doesn’t have a special kind of Attack like we do. He should learn his place. In fact, most of the pokémon in this army could stand to respect us more.”

“I think they’re a little preoccupied,” Yenn muttered.

Itora was going to reply, but she was quickly distracted by the sight of the three pokémon from earlier, the persian, dedenne, and pidgeotto. They were hurriedly scampering over to her and the others, this time with new berries and prey items. Itora looked over the new prey the pidgeotto was carrying, and seemed satisfied when he dropped it at her feet.

The persian carried a slakoth this time, which he deposited at Yenn’s feet on the other side of the ledge. Yenn mumbled some thanks before he leaned down and started to bite chunks out of the slakoth’s head with his fangs.

Itora looked down at the plump buneary at her feet. “That’s more like it,” she told the pidgeotto and persian over the sound of the crunching of bone coming from the yanmega. “Remember, you bring us the best food. I don’t care if you’re new, that should go without saying!”

“Yes, Itora,” the pidgeotto stammered, as he and the others turned and headed away again.

As she watched them with satisfaction, Yenn lifted his head, licking drops of blood from his fangs. “Someone should get us some water,” he muttered under his breath.

Itora didn’t even answer him. She stood up to full height, picking out an armaldo that was speaking with a group of pokémon. “You there! Get water!” she shouted, and the pokémon immediately stopped what he was doing and rushed toward a gap in the rocks that led to a nearby stream. Itora turned to Yenn. “You know they have to do whatever we want. I can even make the big tough pokémon do our bidding.”

“Very impressive. It’s not like you haven’t been doing that since you got here,” Yenn replied, his words more than a bit sarcastic. But she could see that there was also humor in his words, and it looked like his tense mood was finally starting to fade. When he went back to tearing into the slakoth carcass, Itora could tell that he was at least a bit more relaxed.

Ashend, however, was less than amused. The misdreavus gave her new pile of berries a disinterested look. “Why they think I need this many berries I’ll never understand,” she mused. “I don’t even need to eat them; misdreavus like me have other ways of getting nourishment.”

“Oh, come on, stop complaining,” Itora replied. “Yeah, you and I don’t need to eat all the time the way Yenn does, but so what? We should have food available for whenever we want it! We were chosen by Cyclone himself to be the Attack users. We deserve it.”

“Speaking of Cyclone…” the misdreavus interrupted, and Itora turned her head to see a group of pokémon – headed by the vaporeon leader himself – making their way through the maze of tall stones toward them.

Yenn, who had been grooming his front legs after his meal, snapped to attention, and Itora did her best to look regal. Ashend remained as she was, casually inspecting the berries in her pile as Cyclone and the others approached.

“We’re ready,” the vaporeon announced, and Itora couldn’t contain her excitement as she bounded down from the ledge.

“Finally!” the manectric shouted, coming to stand beside the army’s leader. “Let’s go then.”

She heard the buzzing of wings as Yenn left his perch, hovering near the group of pokémon getting ready to leave. Ashend floated calmly over to them as well, addressing Cyclone with a tone of respect. “Do you want Yenn and I to come?” she asked him.

“No,” Cyclone answered. “You two will stay here. I am only taking a small group.”

That seemed to satisfy both Ashend and Yenn, and Itora knew that neither the misdreavus nor the yanmega were eager to travel across a freezing mountain. The only reason she wasn’t worried about the cold was that Cyclone was going to make sure there were fire pokémon around her to keep her warm the whole time. She imagined it would have been a good deal more difficult to provide enough heat for pokémon that flew or drifted through the air the way her friends did.

“So what is the plan?” Itora asked calmly, trying not to show much impatience now that they were about to be on their way. “How are we going to get past Articuno?”

“We aren’t,” Solus answered, the espeon appearing from the back of the group of elite pokémon. “We head to the top of the mountain, and as soon as Articuno shows up, Cyclone will take him out with his Attack.” Solus’s words were tense and angry, as if having to be in the mere presence of Itora was making him seethe with rage on the inside.

Itora and Ashend exchanged looks of silent surprise, a mixture of both shock and apprehension on their faces. However, they quickly suppressed it, and Itora turned back to Cyclone with an incredulous look. “Wait…you’re saying your Attack is strong enough to work…against a legendary?”

“This will not be the first time I’ve used it,” Cyclone responded calmly, speaking as if he were trying to soothe the manectric’s fears. “In fact, I have used it several times, before you three were brought into the army. It will be strong enough. I promise.”

“And you said the Attacks get stronger with each use, right?” Itora asked.

“Yes, that is correct,” Cyclone said with a nod.

“And…you’re actually going to…going to-”

“Then so be it,” Ashend interrupted, all surprise gone from the ghost type’s features, to be replaced with a cold indifference. “Articuno never helped the likes of pokémon like us.”

At this, Itora seemed much less uneasy. “That’s right,” she growled. “If he’s standing in our way, he’s on the humans’ side. And you know what we’ve said about any pokémon on the humans’ side. I don’t care how powerful he is!” Her voice rose to a shout as she said the last few words.

“Wait a minute…” Yenn began, still hovering near Ashend. There was a look of shocked surprise on his face, as if he was still trying to comprehend what he’d just heard. “‘Take him out?’ You mean you’re going to…”

“These attack powers are meant to kill, yanmega!” Solus growled, as if his anger had reached a tipping point. “I thought we went over that long before we’d found you your stone.” The espeon’s eyes had started to glow, a faint tinge of psychic energy that cast an eerie light on the ground around him. It glinted off the red Team Rocket symbol on the collar he still wore, for reasons Yenn could only guess.

“You did not tell me we were going to be killing legendaries,” the bug type shouted back. “How could you even think-”

With a growl, Solus stepped forward, close enough that his face would have been mere inches from the yanmega’s if Yenn had been standing on the ground. It was obvious that the espeon had been greatly frustrated for some reason, and Yenn’s outburst had been the final straw, because when he spoke, Solus’s words dripped poison. “If you have a problem with any of this, I can easily arrange to give you a turn in the torture ring!” Solus snarled. “I don’t care whether you have that Attack or not! No one-”

His voice was immediately cut off as Cyclone’s paw struck him across the face, the vaporeon’s blunt claws raking through his fur. Solus staggered backwards in shock, staring at the vaporeon with his mouth agape.

“He is the bug type Attack stone user,” the vaporeon growled, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically angry tone as he stepped toward Solus, looming over the shaking espeon. “And you will treat him with respect.”

Solus stared at Cyclone in disbelief before shooting a glance back at Yenn, who stared at him incredulously before baring his fangs at the psychic type in anger. The espeon heard a series of small giggles, and turned to see Itora, grinning at him with triumph plastered all over her face. The sight made him seethe with rage, but nevertheless he bowed his head to Cyclone. “I apologize,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

As Solus walked to the back of the group, Yenn couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the nearby pokémon who had seen the spectacle looked pleased with Solus’s telling-off. In the two months since he’d been welcomed into the army, Yenn had come to learn that the sadistic espeon was universally disliked among all but some of the higher-ups. He ignored the other pokémon, focusing instead on Cyclone himself as the vaporeon took a step toward him.

“I am greatly sorry if this upsets you,” Cyclone began, nodding his head politely to the yanmega. “But he is not the only articuno out there. There are others, in other regions. And at this point, the articuno in Inari has chosen to ally himself with the humans.”

At these words, Yenn felt a large portion of his misgivings fading away. “I understand,” he said, though his words still left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Legendary or not,” Itora growled, “in the end he’s still just another pokémon…and a traitorous one at that.”

“We’re heading out now,” Cyclone told the group. “And Solus…” The espeon perked his head up at the sound of his name. “Don’t let me ever hear you threatening Yenn…or either of the others again.”

“Of course not,” the espeon growled, and though it seemed as if he was frustrated with Cyclone, Itora and the others could tell that his anger was directed at them, not the army’s leader.

Itora proudly walked after the small group Cyclone had gathered. She kicked her paw out at Solus as she did so, which nearly caused the espeon to trip. As they moved toward one of the natural pathways leading the way out of the rocky labyrinth, Yenn and Ashend hovered together, watching them.

“Try not to worry,” Ashend told the yanmega gently. “Cyclone knows what he’s doing. Itora will be fine.”

Yenn was silent, but he nodded.

-ooo-

Around an hour later, cold blasted Itora’s face as she shakily climbed the mountain, several of Cyclone’s guards surrounding her. She wasn’t used to traveling at such a fast pace, and in spite of her eagerness to reach the top, she was finding that her strength was waning. And in spite of the magmar that was keeping her warm by using fire attacks nearby, she was shaking with cold. The fact that her fur was thinned out and only sparsely covered her body didn’t help. Still, she refused to show her discomfort, and stubbornly placed one paw in front of another, squinting her eyes against the wind.

They were not anywhere close to the mountain’s peak. She had no idea how they could keep going like this. Groups of Articuno’s pokémon had already swarmed them more than once, and occasionally one of the flying types would swoop down for her specifically, as if they could tell she was being guarded. She had been able to take them out fairly easily with her electric attacks when she got the chance, but most of the time her bodyguards dealt with it before she could.

At the moment, it seemed as if Articuno’s pokémon were trying to keep them from going forward rather than attacking them all at once. Maybe, she thought, they were saving their biggest, strongest forces for the rest of Cyclone’s army. They’d assume that the army was waiting to attack, she figured, and wasting their energy on pokémon who, although strong, were few in number, must seem like a waste of time. At least she hoped. Itora wasn’t keen to fight a huge number of the ice and flying types at once.

The pokémon of the mountain were scared, she could tell. Not of her or Cyclone’s small group, but of the army waiting below. They had probably never seen a collection of pokémon so grand, pokémon that could exploit every weakness any of the ice mountain pokémon had. She thought that they must know, deep down, that they could never win in a confrontation. Articuno must know too, she reasoned, but they had seen no sign of him yet.

Maybe he was hiding, Itora thought. The fastest scouts had been tracking Articuno’s movement long before the army had arrived at the mountain; the legendary had never tried to flee. She imagined that once he realized what was waiting for him, he knew it was too late. With the amount of flying types Cyclone had on his side, they were sure to be able to catch up to an articuno and, at the very least, take the stone if he’d tried to escape with it. Perhaps he was just a coward, curled up in a mountain cave somewhere sniveling behind his wall of warriors.

Or maybe, she thought, he stayed behind out of some pathetic loyalty to the ice types who couldn’t fly. She snickered to herself at the thought; it was quite a silly thing for a legendary to do. She herself made a point not to care about other pokémon. Ashend and Yenn were the only exceptions to that rule.

At the moment there was a calm, a lull in the attacks. Cyclone kept pushing them on, not willing to let anyone stop for a rest. One of the pokémon, already exhausted from the climbing, gave an annoyed grunt. “And why couldn’t we send flying types to do this?”

“Like I said,” Cyclone responded without looking back. “There is no need for senseless bloodshed.”

Itora knew that he was talking about the death toll the army would take if Cyclone’s flying types had tried to attack Articuno right away. The only reason Cyclone would have even let them try was if Articuno had made the choice to flee.

Itora glared at the pokémon who had complained. “What’s the matter?” she said in a mocking tone. “Too hard for you? I can do it and I barely have any fur. What’s the matter with you?”

“Quiet,” Cyclone said, and Itora closed her mouth, knowing that if Cyclone had spoken, it must be for something important.

Up ahead, the line of bird pokémon waiting on the higher cliffs seemed to have shifted. More pokémon seemed to be adding to their ranks, and as she squinted, she could see far enough in the nighttime darkness to notice black shapes moving closer and closer to the waiting pokémon watching them. They were forming a line, a barrier, and one even more ominous and threatening than before. In spite of her nature, Itora found fear growing in her mind. It looked as if they were about to be attacked.

What happened next was the last thing she would have expected.

An icy wind, stronger and much more powerful than any she had encountered before, washed over them, causing her to shriek in pain as it bit at her exposed flesh. Some of the other pokémon nearly tumbled backward from the blast, and Itora could hardly see through the snow that swirled into the air as thickly as a sandstorm.

The freezing blast died down almost as quickly as it had begun, and the manectric’s eyes widened as she realized that, standing on a spur of snowy rock, only a short distance from the traveling group, was the legendary Articuno.

Itora had never before seen a legendary pokémon, merely heard descriptions and seen human pictures of them. They had been the subject of many stories she’d heard as a pup, and many a time she had pictured them in her head, but seeing one was different. Articuno was larger than any bird pokémon she had ever seen, his icy blue feathers both stunning and fierce at the same time. He seemed to embody the element of ice, completely in his element among the freezing mountain peaks. And he was glaring straight at them, furious with them for what they had done. Once again, she felt afraid.

Yet this pokémon, legendary bird or not, stood between her and the stone that would help her bring down the humans. She narrowed her eyes and told herself that, legendary or not, Articuno was just as much a piece of scum as the pokémon that willingly battled for trainers and lived among human cities.

Most of the other pokémon in her group seemed frozen in shock, scared or uncertain. Cyclone was the only one out of all of them that remained completely calm as he faced the great ice bird.

Articuno took a step forward, standing on the very edge of his rock. His talons crunched through the snow to click loudly on the stone beneath, and though his wings were folded at his sides, every pokémon watching could tell that he was ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

“Leave this place,” Articuno demanded, and though the side of the mountain was howling with wind, his voice stood out clearly above everything else. “Do not threaten those who live on this mountain any longer. Take those pokémon waiting at the bottom of the mountain and leave now.”

“I am sorry,” Cyclone answered, his voice much quieter, less charged with emotion. Itora could barely hear it over the wind, but Articuno seemed to pick up on the vaporeon’s words just fine. “But I have no intention of doing that.”

Articuno gave no warning. There was no reply to Cyclone’s words, no hesitation before he leaped into action. The legendary bird shot off from the rock spur directly toward the vaporeon himself, talons outstretched and mouth open, ready to launch an attack.

As the gap between the legendary and army leader closed, Itora could hear Cyclone whisper a few words:

“Very well.”

And then his eyes began to glow.

-ooo-

Sometime during the night, Nightshade woke up.

He was not sure what had roused him, whether it was pain or simply some noise from the forest, but as he became more aware, he realized that someone was trying to sneak into the camp. He tensed, wondering why any human or pokémon would be snooping around their clearing, before he realized that the black shape was Thunder. He let himself relax, feeling Snowcrystal shifting in her sleep beside him, but the white growlithe didn’t wake up.

Thunder crept silently around the sleeping groups of pokémon, who were so exhausted that not a single one of them stirred, and came to stand beside Nightshade. The heracross realized that she was holding something in her mouth, a scraggly clump of branches that had been cut from a bush. The scyther set it down next to him, and Nightshade quickly noticed that the branches were covered in berries. “I brought this for you,” Thunder whispered.

Nightshade looked down at the branches, and recognized the berries immediately. They were a type that all young heracross were warned about and told to avoid from a very young age. “Thunder…” he began quietly. “These berries are poisonous.”

Thunder stared back at him in disbelief, before looking down at the branches. Angrily she chopped downward with her scythe, slashing them into pieces. Snowcrystal’s eyes flew open and she jumped, giving Thunder an alarmed gaze. “Those stupid-” Thunder began.

“You didn’t eat any, did you?” Nightshade asked, shakily attempting to sit upright.

“Why would a scyther eat berries?” Thunder snapped. “I was trying to get food for you.”

“I know…” Nightshade said calmly. “And it’s okay. That was very nice of you.”

Thunder didn’t seem convinced, merely frustrated that she had gotten something wrong. She stood there in silence, still fuming at her own mistake.

“Don’t worry about it,” the heracross continued. “You’re not used to the wild and couldn’t have known. But really, I’m proud of you for trying. That was a very nice thing you did.”

Thunder didn’t answer, but instead looked around at the other pokemon. “How long are we going to stay with this group?” she muttered. “Until you’re well?”

“Thunder, I…I plan to stay with them,” Nightshade answered, causing Thunder to shoot him a look of surprise. “I want to help them fix this mess the Forbidden Attack has caused, and, well, these other pokémon are my family.”

“Your family?” Thunder repeated.

“I hope that, with time, you can learn to trust them as well. They are good pokémon.”

Thunder looked like she was about to argue, but only for a moment. After that, she seemed to calm down. “If that’s what you want,” she said with a shrug, starting to walk away from him and Snowcrystal. “I’ll keep looking out for you.” Before they could say anything more, she had disappeared into the trees, taking the berry branches away with her.

“Where’s Thunder going to go, if she doesn’t stay here?” Snowcrystal asked, wondering what would happen if Thunder got tired of watching out for Nightshade or was driven away by the others.

“I’m not sure,” Nightshade replied. “But I think that, deep down, she does want to stay. She just isn’t sure what to do about the rest of the group.” Tired of trying to sit up, he lay back down again. “I’ll just have to convince the others to give her another chance. She really is trying to change.”

“I just wish they could see that,” Snowcrystal said, laying her head down on her paws.

“They will,” Nightshade replied, his voice beginning to sound even more tired. “I think it will just take time. I have a feeling we’ll all need each other’s help for whatever lies ahead.”

Snowcrystal nodded, but didn’t reply, not wanting to distract Nightshade further when he seemed so tired. She looked up at the makeshift canopy they had woven over the clearing, the tangle of branches and leaves that blocked out the sky and the stars. Everything seemed uncertain now, and she had no idea where they could look next for answers. Perhaps they would need to go to another city’s library, or seek out more pokémon that could help them. She just hoped that, sooner rather than later, they would have some sort of direction, a plan.

-ooo-

A cold wind howled, but there was no longer any sound of a struggle. The side of the mountain where Cyclone and his followers had faced Articuno had been completely transformed. The whole area beyond where the small group of pokémon stood, extending far up the mountainside, was barren and lifeless.

The sparse pine trees that dotted the rocky ground had been stripped bare, their leaves burned away and their trunks scorched from the acid that had poured from the sky like rain. The snow had melted away wherever it had struck, leaving large swaths of dark brown earth exposed to the sky. Even in the darkness, the small band of pokémon could see the bodies of the ice and flying types who had tried to defend Articuno from Cyclone’s attack. They were just lifeless dark shapes on the mountainside. And now, there was silence. No one was trying to come after them. Not anymore.

The group was waiting for Cyclone’s return, and they did not dare step on the ground that had been touched by Cyclone’s Attack. In places, there were even pools of acid that had collected, some of it almost looking as thought it were starting to eat through the rock. None of them really wanted to look at where the burned corpse of the legendary bird Articuno lay, his once majestic wings and tail feathers lying twisted on the ground. In spite of knowing what was going to happen, in spite of preparing for it, none of them had really gotten over the shock of seeing a legendary killed before their very eyes. And there was no mistaking it – Articuno was as dead as the prey pokémon Itora had been given at the army’s makeshift camp. The legendary had still tried to attack Cyclone even as the attack hit him, but it hadn’t taken long for the storm to bring him to the ground, and then…

It was so easy. Itora had never guessed it could be so simple to take down a legendary, let alone kill one. And it was all because of the power that Cyclone had gained, had practiced somewhere on his own until it was capable of doing what she’d just seen. She had to admit that…it scared her a bit. She was just glad that it was Cyclone that had that sort of power and not some other pokémon.

Then they saw Cyclone himself coming, strolling proudly through the rocks and what remained of the snow. Itora was jolted out of her stupor as she noticed with immense relief that Cyclone was carrying a bright orange, glowing stone in his mouth. It was the same size as the ones Ashend and Yenn carried around their necks, and she perked up in excitement.

This was it.

Ashend was right, the manectric told herself again. Articuno had gotten what he’d deserved, being a traitor to the name of pokémon. And as disturbing as the dead legendary was, she knew she had other things to focus on. She stood tall and proud until Cyclone reached her, dropping the stone at her feet.

At a nod from Cyclone, she reached out with her paw, carefully touching the edge around the stone. The soft glow emanating from it intensified for a few moments, but nothing else happened. She paused, looking uncertain, before she glanced to Cyclone in confusion.

“Touch the center, Itora,” the vaporeon calmly instructed, acting as if there wasn’t a dead Articuno lying in front of them.

Leaning down, Itora slowly reached toward the orange stone again. She suddenly felt a bit afraid, trying to remember if Ashend or Yenn had described gaining the Attacks as painful or not. Yet she quickly overcame her hesitation, and did just as Cyclone had said, put the tip of her claw right in the stone’s center.

Immediately, it felt as if something, some sort of invisible force, was surging through her body. It almost felt like electricity, but…wrong. Almost as if she were a water type being struck with a thunderbolt attack. It didn’t actually hurt, the way a real thunderbolt would, but it was unbearable all the same. Itora may have screamed, but it was as if her jaws were sealed shut, and no sounds were coming from her throat.

A word shot through her mind, almost as sharp as the electricity-like feeling itself, sounding almost like a voice.

Voltgale…

Itora only had a split second or two to feel confusion in response to it, for almost as soon as it had entered her mind, she felt everything going black.

To be continued…



Author's Note: About the legendaries…I do not see legendaries as this big “club” that always works together and will jump to the rescue if one of their own is threatened. Legendaries in this story, like any pokémon, can choose to work together, but here that usually involves the ones that are NOT guarding some other dimension or are responsible for creating things, because those ones aren’t directly involved in whatever Cyclone or these other pokémon are doing.

I see Arceus as a “god” that is responsible for creating parts of the pokémon world, but he is not a god who generally chooses to interfere with things. So he lets pokémon do as they wish and in my own headcanon, he’s far more concerned with the Sinnoh region (as that is the one he’s focused on and is confirmed to have created) than he is with the others. I don’t see him (or any of the other “big” legendaries) as a big hero that can swoop in at any time whenever something really bad happens. That’s extremely instant-solution-y and boring and doesn’t reflect on canon at all, considering all the other crap that’s threatened other legendaries in the games and anime. Plus I think Arceus and other major legendaries are busy keeping the universe safe/stable at the moment. They’re not going to mess with Cyclone unless he somehow finds one of them and tries to throw the balance off of everything.

If anything, it’s the other legendary birds/legendaries guarding Forbidden Attacks in the region that are going to be mad. Not that they can all swarm to Cyclone’s army at the moment, though.