The Path of Destiny
Chapter 36 - Into the Canyon

Cyclone had always hated humans.

Sure, he had once had a trainer for a period of time, but he had put up with it because the trainer could provide him with things he needed which he could not get anywhere else.

An evolution stone, to name one such thing.

Cyclone felt no guilt at abandoning his previous master in the desert with the rest of his pokémon. Humans as a species were cruel, and the fact that his trainer was a nice person did not change the fact that the majority of humans took pokémon away from their homes and thought nothing of it.

Apart from his trainer, Cyclone had not met any particularly nice humans. He had been born in a city where eevee had become incredibly common through breeding. As a result, many eevee, namely males, were left unwanted.

Cyclone grew up on the streets of the city, along with his parents who had been thrown out of their humans’ home because they had become too old to breed. He was their last child, yet no one had purchased him simply because he looked small and weak for an eevee his age, and many of the humans wanted females.

Though he lived a meager existence on the filthy streets of a crowded city, life did not seem bad to him because he knew no different. His parents had never been given the chance to evolve, but although they were still only eevee, they did their best to protect him. They strived to make his hard life happy, and despite living in such awful conditions, both of his parents discovered a new joy at finally being able to raise one of their pups themselves instead of having him taken away by the humans at a very young age.

At this stage of life, Cyclone felt that everything was one big adventure, and his parents helped him see it that way. Whether they were digging through garbage for scraps or finding somewhere to shelter from the rain, Cyclone’s mother and father always made it into a game for him. At many times it kept him calm even in the worst of situations. He was about as happy as a nameless stray eevee in the midst of a massive city could be.

One day when Cyclone and his parents were walking back to one of the many different places on the streets they called ‘home,’ the three eevee were unexpectedly chased by a growlithe, and in their panic, veered off into another street. It wasn’t long before the growlithe stopped chasing them, but the eevee were exhausted. Cyclone had complained about it being cold, so they started to head back. Cyclone hadn’t recognized anything around him, and it had been getting dark. He had been scared.

Cyclone’s father then suddenly let out a warning cry, and the three eevee bolted as a couple of teenage humans strode into view. The first human had spotted the eevee and ran forward, grabbing the tail of Cyclone’s father as he darted by. Frightened, the young eevee’s mother had told him to hide as she rushed to confront the humans holding her mate.

It was a futile effort; both of the humans had pokémon and easily defeated the small eevee. Though Cyclone had been young, he remembered distinctly from the humans’ words that both of them considered the now common eevee species ‘unwanted vermin’ and were tired of seeing endless amounts of eevee being adopted into trainers’ teams or being left to run freely through the city. Therefore, they decided to let their pokémon have a little fun with the ‘common vermin.’

The two trainers then turned to their pokémon, ordering them to attack the two older eevee, and from his hiding place, Cyclone watched as his parents were tortured and killed before his very eyes.

A little less than a day later, Cyclone was found by a trainer, a young boy who brought him to his house and cared for him. Cyclone hated and feared the human, but it was thanks to him that he survived. Having nowhere else to go and knowing that a trainer was his ticket away from the awful city where he had been raised, Cyclone reluctantly decided to join him.

In the years he stayed with his trainer, Cyclone made many attempts to escape after being given one of the things he wanted…evolution. All of these attempts failed and the boy’s other pokémon tried to convince him to stay. Cyclone agreed, though in his mind, he knew it would only be until he got stronger.

Secretly, he taught himself to hunt, as he knew that one day he would no longer rely on humans for food. He hated the silly nickname given to him by his trainer, and began to call himself Cyclone, in honor of his evolution.

Throughout the years, Cyclone had seen pokémon being pushed past their limits in battle, beaten, or even accidentally killed during a match. He was blind to the examples of kind trainers around him; he did not believe that humans could be kind. His trainer, he believed, was only using him to win battles and earn money.

Cyclone’s hatred of humans increased when one day he witnessed sections of a forest being cut down, and the homes of pokémon being destroyed. He was further enraged when the surviving pokémon were captured and brought back to the city.

His trainer hadn’t done anything to stop those humans.

It was only when they had gotten lost in a desert that Cyclone finally abandoned his trainer and the other pokémon, leaving them without water. He had needed it for himself more.

After a long while of walking, he had realized that he was lost. Soon he had collapsed, too dehydrated to use any water attacks, and that was when he had found the green stone. Out of curiosity and fascination, he had reached forward and touched it. The stone sent violent energy surging throughout his body. The energy was so raw and powerful that he had passed out from the shock.

When he had awoken, he had felt a new life flowing through his veins. No longer did he feel tired or weak, and the energy lasted him long enough to find food and water, allowing him to make his way out of the desert. At some point during this time, he had remembered a story his trainer had once told the pokémon, and realized with fascination what his newfound power could be. A Forbidden Attack.

The story had been vague, and his trainer had only been interested in describing each of the attacks and what they did. Cyclone had heard a voice whisper to him upon first touching the stone, and he had used the attack to see just what it was. The description in the story had matched almost perfectly. Acidstorm was his.

From then on, he began formulating a plan, which led him to quickly seek out someone knowledgeable about the legend of the Forbidden Attacks. He had soon found such a pokémon.

Now, with a vast army at his side, Cyclone sat atop a grassy hill, his sleek, short fur wet after a morning of hunting. He was waiting for any reports of the whereabouts of the houndour Blazefang, who possessed Shadowflare but had been unwilling to join the army. The vaporeon had decided that the attack needed to be taken by force.

Blazefang needed to die.

As Cyclone sat on the cool, damp grass, he picked up the sound of some of his followers approaching. He stood up and walked over to them, hoping for news of the houndour.

Instead, the tyranitar he had appointed to watch one of the cave’s exits threw a wounded scyther at his feet. Cyclone’s eyes widened. The scyther’s back and arms had been burned horribly, leaving flesh and muscle exposed in some places. The vaporeon stood staring, but he hid his disgust well, retaining his usual calm and emotionless expression.

“Why have you brought this scyther here?” he asked, his voice betraying the faintest hint of annoyance. “Scyther aren’t prey, and this one is no use to us as a fighter. Unless he has a good reason to be here, throw him into the canyon and tell me what you’ve found by the cave.”

“Oh he has a good reason to be here, all right!” the female scyther, a pokémon whom Cyclone already greatly trusted, and who was called Silverbreeze, told him with a smile on her face. “He was part of the group that the houndour went with into the cave. A pokémon led him out of the cave, so we know that the cave pokémon are helping them. He ought to know where the others, and Blazefang, have gone.”

“Hm…well then, good job,” Cyclone complimented, the faintest hint of a smile crossing his face. “But let me guess…he wouldn’t tell you anything, so you brought him here?”

“Yes, Cyclone,” Silverbreeze replied respectfully.

“Oh, but you’ll soon get him to talk, right?” the tyranitar asked, giving the motionless scyther a small kick. Stormblade groaned and tried to move away.

Cyclone regarded Stormblade as if he was some particularly dirty piece of filth. The vaporeon turned to Silverbreeze. “Get Solus,” he ordered. “And you,” he added to the tyranitar, “bring anyone from the army who isn’t on duty here as well.”

Not wanting to question him, Silverbreeze and the tyranitar ran off.

-ooo-

Cyclone watched as the army gathered below the hill. He turned toward Solus, who was grinning widely.

“Hey Cyclone,” the espeon asked, his eyes narrowing to mere slits, “do you really think this scyther knows where Blazefang is?”

“It’s possible,” Cyclone replied calmly. “Now remember, do whatever you want, just don’t kill him. I’m going to have a word with the army.” The vaporeon turned and walked to the hill, while the espeon darted excitedly beside him.

Stormblade could barely register what had happened, but at some point, he had been knocked out and dragged to the very top of the hill after coming face to face with the army’s leader, Cyclone. Now he lay in the wet grass beneath the slowly setting sun, some sort of tough vines tied around his arms just below the base of the scythes, and around his snout. He assumed from Cyclone and Solus’s actions that he was about to be made an example of. He had made up his mind to ignore his fear and remain defiant. After all, despite the fact that the espeon had tried to read his mind, Cyclone was still going to have him tortured, and would have even if Solus’s attempt had been successful; he had gathered the army there for a reason.

Stormblade did not know why Solus’s mind reading attempt did not work. From what he had heard from Cyclone himself, the espeon had perfected his mind reading ability to the point where he could read the minds of unevolved dark types, although he still couldn’t hurt them with actual attacks. However, when Solus had tried it on Stormblade, it hadn’t worked. Solus had discovered some of Stormblade’s other memories, like being locked out in the snow by Justin, teaching Spark how to hunt, lying on a bed in the pokémon center, his talk with Thunder…but no matter how deep into his mind the espeon had delved, he could not see any of the memories regarding Blazefang. Stormblade was not sure why this was so; he hadn’t been strong enough to resist it in any way, but he had deeply frustrated Solus and it had been easy to see that the former Rocket espeon had been both humiliated and furious. Now that his interrogation was about to start, however, Solus seemed to be in a much better mood. Solus had known that Stormblade was the scyther Blazefang had attacked; he had seen it in Blazefang’s memory. Stormblade had heard him telling Cyclone about it.

The scyther lay miserably on the ground as Cyclone called out to the pokémon assembled below, his words magnified into the minds of every pokémon present by Solus’s psychic abilities.

“Now I know you’re wondering why I told you to come here,” Cyclone began, his calm, level voice intensifying within Stormblade’s own head, “I know that some of you have witnessed what happens to traitors…but now I will show you all what happens to those who refuse to aid us in our quest to stop the humans.” He turned to Solus and nodded.

The espeon padded lightly over to Stormblade, removing the vine around his mouth by snapping it with his teeth. “Let’s hope for your sake that you’re one of the smart ones…the ones who say what Cyclone wants to know right from the start,” he muttered.

Stormblade ignored him. He knew that no matter what he did, Cyclone had brought the army here to see Solus torture someone, and that wasn’t going to change.

The espeon backed up, turning to look at Cyclone and the two pokémon who had come to stand by his side, the tyranitar and the scyther Silverbreeze. Solus smiled, revealing pointed fangs. “Well then, let’s begin.”

Stormblade jerked back as some sort of very intense white hot, pulsating pain filled his head, and he thrashed in agony, gouging the grass and earth with his scythes as he did so. It felt as if some powerful fire type was shoving long, red-hot claws deep into his head. As he struggled on the ground, he caught a fleeting glimpse of Solus standing rigidly as if in deep concentration, his eyes a fiercely glowing light blue.

All at once the pain stopped. Stormblade gasped for breath, looking up as Solus approached him. “So,” the espeon stated casually, his eyes returning to their normal black. “Where is that houndour?”

‘Lie…’ Stormblade thought frantically to himself, trying to think of something convincing. A wave of agonizing pain rushed through his head again, though this time it was gone almost as soon as it had started.

“No, lying wouldn’t be a good idea,” the espeon snarled. “Tell us the truth.”

Stormblade hesitated, and the memory of the others waiting at the side of the underground lake came involuntarily to the front of his mind. Solus made no move or response other than a frustrated growl; he couldn’t read the memory.

“I know I can’t read it!” Solus shrieked in response to Stormblade’s confused thoughts, his claws digging into the ground in rage. “But I know that you know it! Where is he?”

Several of the pokémon watching below exchanged confused glances with each other and shifted nervously, hoping the scyther would tell Solus. Some wanted the houndour to be a part of the army as much as Cyclone did, and others simply didn’t want to watch this anymore.

“I can tell what you’re thinking,” Solus told Stormblade angrily. “You’re afraid to tell because you don’t want your friends in danger, don’t want Cyclone to have the attack…well let me tell you…you don’t have a choice!”

Stormblade shrieked as the pain returned, twice as intense. “TELL US!” Solus roared, but the scyther could barely hear him over the pain that filled his head and mind, forcing away all other thoughts. He couldn’t hear Solus anymore. In fact, he could no longer tell if he was still screaming, or if he was really only screaming in his mind. Nothing he did lessened or worsened the agony. It was just one steady stream of constant pain.

Once again the pain suddenly stopped, and Stormblade was left lying shivering on the ground. Through his dazed vision, the scyther could see Solus’s lithe form approaching him.

“Well?” the espeon asked, looking at him through blazing violet eyes.

Stormblade did not move. No matter what happened to him, he simply couldn’t bring himself to put his friends in danger. And if he said nothing, there was no way these pokémon could find out where the others were.

The corners of Solus’s mouth twisted into a grin. “No one being tortured ever remains heroic and noble for long,” the espeon smirked, and Stormblade felt a strange sensation, and realized that he was being slowly lifted into the air by some sort of strange blue glow originating from Solus’s psychic attack.

Stormblade was completely unable to move, save for his eyes which darted from side to side in horror. He noticed that he was being moved through the air toward a large boulder nearby.

Solus tilted his head toward the side a bit, and Stormblade was suddenly slammed against the side of the boulder. Solus moved his head again and Stormblade moved away from it in the air, only to be sent crashing against it again. This time the espeon lowered his head slightly, watching as Stormblade, who had his back against the rock, was slowly dragged down its rough surface through the air. The scyther could make no sound, but Solus was sure that if he could, he might find that having his burn wounds ripped open by jagged rock enough of an incentive to give him the information he wanted. Solus released Stormblade from the psychic attack, allowing him to fall roughly to the ground. The rock beside him was flecked with scyther blood.

Some of the watching pokémon either looked away or looked down at the grass as Solus walked over to the cringing bug type. Stormblade could feel some blood running down his back, and he lay gritting his teeth together, trying not to make any sound.

“Are you ready to give us the answer?” Solus asked him.

“Yes…” Stormblade gasped. “They escaped back through the tunnel they entered the cave through…got past the guards…they’re headed-”

“YOU’RE LYING!” Solus snarled.

Stormblade felt himself lifting back up into the air only to be slammed back into the ground, but this time he was so dazed from the pain of the Shadowflare wounds that he hardly felt it. Solus’s psychic energy lifted him upright again, so that Stormblade was forced to stare into the espeon’s glowing eyes. Solus inclined his head slightly to the right, and Stormblade heard a snapping, tearing sound as one of his wings was bent backwards and then twisted by the psychic energy holding him in the air. A moment later he was sent crashing against the rock, and the psychic glow around him faded. Painfully the scyther tried to get to his feet, only to be knocked down by an iron tail attack from Solus.

“Where is he?” the espeon hissed, his glowing eyes narrowing to brightly blazing slits.

Stormblade didn’t respond, but closed his eyes and curled up on the ground, much to Solus’s annoyance.

The espeon’s eyes glowed brighter, almost white, but this time Stormblade felt no pain. Instead, images of his friends, his current traveling companions as well as friends in his past, flashed through his mind, each of them maimed horribly and dying in their own blood.

“You want this to happen to your friends when we find them?” Solus asked him, fixing his fierce stare on the scyther. “Because we can arrange that!”

The images in his mind vanished to give way to searing agony once again. It was at this point that Stormblade realized he had reached his limit. He found it nearly impossible to talk and endure the pain at the same time, but he finally managed to force the words out. “They…they whe-were at lake-”

The pain stopped, and Solus’s glowing eyes returned to their usual violet color. “Yes…?” he asked, in a mockingly sweet voice.

“An underground lake,” Stormblade gasped, “the cave pokémon said…he said…water p-pokémon…can swim underneath…into a canyon…the exit…h…hidden underwater…”

Cyclone calmly approached Solus, taking care not to step on any of the patches of grass that were flecked with blood. “Of course…” he whispered. “The canyon. I’ll admit I never would have thought the cave would have opened up in that area. Well, if that’s where they’re headed or have escaped to, that is where we’ll go.” He turned to some of the pokémon standing nearest to him. “Gather everyone who’s waiting by the cave entrances and bring them here,” Cyclone ordered them, and they nodded and walked off.

Silverbreeze, who had been standing near Cyclone the whole time, now looked shocked at the state Stormblade was in. Solus walked over to the motionless scyther, using his psychic powers to send another wave of pain shooting through his body. Stormblade cried out and then lay still. “Now I want to know something…” the espeon hissed dangerously as he approached Stormblade, knowing that most of the army would be preparing to leave now and were no longer forced to stay and watch. “How were you able to keep that secret hidden…from…me?” His last three words were a dangerous snarl, and the scyther at his feet cried out again.

Silverbreeze glanced sideways at Cyclone, who sat perfectly still, almost as if he were a vaporeon made of stone, facing Solus as the eevee evolution continued to torment the helpless scyther and seeming to pay no attention to the pokémon’s screams.

“Cyclone?” the female scyther asked slowly, but the vaporeon seemed lost deep in thought, his eyes fixed on the scene before him and the tortured scyther. Silverbreeze shuddered. As much as she didn’t like having Stormblade around, she did not like witnessing pure torture. “Cyclone…” Silverbreeze continued. “You’ve got the answer you want. There’s no need for this! Tell Solus to stop!”

Cyclone stood up in one fluid motion, staring at the scene once more before turning sharply around and heading in the opposite direction, Stormblade’s screams echoing in his ears. The vaporeon’s mouth twisted into a bitter snarl, as he replied to Silverbreeze in nothing more than a dark whisper.

“Why should I?”

-ooo-

By nightfall, Snowcrystal and her friends had stopped to rest. They had not traveled far, and had stopped early so as to get a lot of rest for the journey ahead. Snowcrystal curled up against Redclaw’s fluffy tail, looking at the arcanine with her blue eyes. “Do you think we’ll find Articuno soon?” she asked.

“Maybe so,” Redclaw told her calmly. “I’m sure that when we do find him, he will be more than willing to help you and your tribe.”

Snowcrystal smiled and lay down, feeling exhausted. It was so nice to be able to relax after all that had happened. And when Stormblade caught up, it would be easier for him too.

As the others were getting ready to sleep, Wildflame snuck away from the group, following Blazefang’s scent. She found the houndour easily. Blazefang was curled up beneath a clump of ferns, not noticing her presence. He looked small and afraid; he was no longer the ruthless leader he had started to become when he was in charge of the pack. “Blazefang…” Wildflame whispered, and the houndour sat up suddenly, startled.

“Uh…what is it?” he said quickly, glancing to see if the others were around.

Wildflame sighed. “What are we going to do now?” she asked. “We have no idea where-”

“Boneclaw and the rest of the pack joined Cyclone,” Blazefang interrupted. “I think he must have promised them help either finding Articuno or driving the growlithe away. I’m not sure. I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe Articuno will be strong enough to drive that army away,” Wildflame whispered back. “After all, he is a legendary. We can still help the tribe, Blazefang. We just need to stay with this group and try to-”

“Articuno can’t help us!” Blazefang growled suddenly, and Wildflame was taken aback.

“Why…why not?” she asked.

“He just can’t!” Blazefang growled, and Wildflame could tell that he didn’t want to say more on the matter.

“We don’t know if he can stop them for sure,” Wildflame went on, still very confused by Blazefang’s reaction. “But for now we must stay with the others if we’re going to make it through all this. If you want…I can try to convince them to…to really let you into their group.”

“They’d never trust me,” Blazefang muttered bitterly.

“We won’t get anywhere if we don’t work together,” Wildflame replied. “Maybe we ought to help the growlithe. We can work something out between both the tribes! Articuno doesn’t need to take sides.”

Blazefang sighed. “I suppose working something out would be best…but we can’t rely on Articuno…” he replied.

“I know we don’t know where he is,” Wildflame said quietly, thinking that she knew why he was doubting. “But we can at least try…Articuno can make it so that both tribes have enough territory and prey.” She paused, but Blazefang did not respond. “Look, everyone in this group has two things in common. One, they want peace in one way or another, and two, they don’t want the Forbidden Attacks to fall into Cyclone’s paws. Working together is our best option. I can try to convince them to give you another chance.”

Blazefang merely turned away from her, his eyes staring blankly ahead. “I don’t know…” he whispered slowly.

Wildflame could tell that he wanted to be left alone. Sighing, she turned and headed back to the others. “Okay, you can decide…but I’ll make sure that none of them try to bother you, especially that jolteon,” she added with a smile as she padded slowly away, leaving Blazefang to his own thoughts.

-ooo-

Morning sun shone brightly through the leafy canopy as Snowcrystal woke and stood up, stretching her forelegs and then glancing around sleepily. The sunlight shone through semi-transparent leaves, bathing everything around her in warm green light. They had certainly found themselves in a peaceful place.

Seeing that the others were not yet awake, Snowcrystal walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the river below, watching it sparkle in the sunlight. The way down looked steep in this area, much steeper than it had been before, but the natural stone pathway wound through the canyon for quite some way ahead; she couldn’t see where it ended. Behind her, the cliffs reared up high into the sky, grasses and flowers swaying gently in the breeze from small ledges and niches in the rock.

After a few moments of gazing at the canyon’s beauty, some footsteps sounding closer to her made her turn around. She saw that it was Nightshade.

“This place seems a lot more hospitable than those caves we wandered through, doesn’t it?” the heracross asked her with a smile.

Snowcrystal nodded. “Do you think we should rest here for the rest of the day to wait for Stormblade?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” Nightshade replied. “I think we should at least get to a place where we could all adequately hide if we were spotted by one of Cyclone’s followers before we decide to stop in one place. But once we do, I could always go back to search for Stormblade and help him the rest of the way here. I can fly after all.”

“But that’s dangerous!” Snowcrystal told him. “What if they see you?”

“Regardless of any type disadvantages, I’m sure I could handle a flying pokémon or two,” Nightshade said calmly. “It would be a good idea to travel until we find such a place today, then I can go back and help Stormblade.”

“All right,” Snowcrystal said, smiling back at him. She was glad to see that Nightshade was confident, yet at the same time knew what he was doing. And regardless of the danger Nightshade could face, Stormblade was probably struggling and needed help. And after all, a flying type from Cyclone’s army might not want to focus on attacking Nightshade when they were looking for Blazefang.

“We’ll leave as soon as the others wake up,” Nightshade told her. “You should rest now.”

“Okay,” Snowcrystal replied, nodding.

-ooo-

It was still morning by the time the group began traveling again. For a while, their path had gotten steadily rockier, and there were places where they had to clamber over rough boulders or climb a little ways up or down the cliffs to stay on the wide ledge path. Spark and Rosie had difficulty climbing some of the rocks and had to receive help from the others. Snowcrystal and Nightshade were always ahead; Snowcrystal was used to climbing rocks and Nightshade possessed wings.

“Can you slow down?” Rosie called from down below as Snowcrystal reached the top of a particularly difficult to climb rock pile. “Not all of us have four good legs you know!”

While the others continued to struggle in their climb, Thunder leaned against the rocks at the very bottom, taking deep gasping breaths as she closed her eyes and tried to fight the dizziness that was threatening to make her collapse. Her whole body was weak and she couldn’t stop shaking, but she refused to stop moving for long, lest she draw attention to herself from the others. Taking another rasping breath, she stepped shakily away from the rocks for a moment and then began to climb.

Nightshade was completely aware of Thunder’s situation, but he said nothing and acted as if he didn’t notice. The last thing Thunder needed was more anger and stress, which she would certainly get if she knew that someone was worried about her. All the same, he allowed the group to take breaks often, claiming that everyone needed to rest, and Thunder never made any objections.

It was during one of these resting times that Snowcrystal decided to go ahead. She walked a little further and soon noticed with dismay that they would all have to climb up the rocks forming the side of the cliff face that stretched far above them for a while in order to carry on. When she came back and reported the news, the only pokémon eager to keep going were Wildflame and Nightshade.

Spark and Rosie felt discouraged, and Blazefang, who was still exhausted, muttered something angrily under his breath from where he sat a good distance away from the others. Yet despite this, they soon agreed to keep going, as everyone was looking forward to better shelter and a real chance to rest.

The climb was tougher than any of them had expected. Thick foliage often blocked their path and made the going difficult, and it was hard to see how much farther they had to go because the trees blocked their view. Wildflame, Nightshade, and Redclaw often had to help Spark or Rosie, and a few times Nightshade even risked asking Thunder if she needed help, but she rejected all of his offers.

“It can’t be far now,” Snowcrystal called to the others from up ahead. “I can see where the foliage thins out further on. We’ll be able to see where we can climb back down to the path!”

“Let’s hope so,” Spark muttered irritably as he limped after Snowcrystal, who was walking further ahead, hoping to see how much farther they had to go.

The growlithe walked farther ahead, quickly reaching the area where there were no trees around her to block her view and where she could see the canyon below.

She was met by a very strange and somehow mysterious sight. Directly below her, there was a place where the smoothly flowing river formed a large round pool right beside the tall cliffs. There the water was still, yet startlingly crystal clear. What intrigued Snowcrystal most was that in the center of the pool, a large misshapen chunk of gray rock reached from the depths of the water to a short way above the surface, and placed on the rock were several small statues of pokémon.

Most of the statues couldn’t have been taller than Snowcrystal’s foreleg, but there were about thirty all together, spread out over the surface of the rock, looking peaceful and undisturbed. They were of various pokémon; Snowcrystal spotted a remoraid, a vaporeon, a clefable, a rapidash, a mightyena, and several others. For a moment her gaze wandered away from the rock and the small statues to the crystal clear water. Her eyes widened when she noticed a much bigger statue of a regal looking arcanine lying completely submerged at the water’s depths, its mouth open in a silent snarl of defiance. The pool was not very deep, but all the same it surprised Snowcrystal how clearly she could see the statue through the water. She couldn’t tell exactly, but it looked at least four times as big as she was, not quite as big as a real arcanine, but still very intricate and beautiful. The submerged statue did not look very old, but it didn’t look as if it had been put there recently either.

Snowcrystal was so mystified by the strange sight, which looked so calm and peaceful, that she did not notice Redclaw standing beside her on the overhanging rock that towered above the still pool. “I guess we found what we were looking for,” the arcanine spoke up, startling her. “Look over there, there’s an easy way back onto that path on the cliffs we were following.” He angled his head toward the easy climb as the others started to catch up.

“Redclaw…” Snowcrystal began. “How do you think those statues got there?”

“Maybe humans put them there,” Redclaw began. “Who knows…maybe this was meant to be a special place to honor pokémon. It doesn’t seem like any of the local pokémon here have even tried to disturb them.”

Rosie, who along with the others had made it to where Snowcrystal and Redclaw were, had forgotten her exhaustion as she stared down at the pool in awe. It wasn’t just the statues that intrigued her. The whole area was startlingly beautiful, and there didn’t seem to be any pokémon in or around the pool at the moment.

“This must be a very special place to the pokémon here,” Nightshade told the others as he looked down from the cliff. “We should probably leave it alone.”

Snapping out of her trance, Snowcrystal nodded. The others seemed to have regained both a bit of strength and hope from seeing a place so peaceful after all the danger they had been through, and they needed to keep going. “Redclaw found an easy way down,” the growlithe told them. “Follow me!”

Snowcrystal led the others single file over the rough stone as they slowly descended, passing around the statue rock and the clear pool. It wasn’t long before they were back on another wide ledge covered in foliage where the going was much easier. Snowcrystal paused to look back at the silent statues one more time, seeing the sunlight hit the water and illuminating the beautiful arcanine statue. The fangs in its open mouth seemed to sparkle in the sunlight, and she could see the entire statue clearly now. She lifted her gaze to the small statues standing so peacefully and undisturbed, sheltered from storms by the cliffs that surrounded them, and then she turned and carried on, leaving the tranquil sight behind.

-ooo-

They hadn’t been walking for long when Nightshade realized that something was wrong. He had a strong feeling that he and the others were being watched, and not by particularly friendly pokémon either. The heracross kept his suspicions quiet, for he did not want the unseen strangers to realize that he had noticed anything before he could find out more about them.

His eyes darted from side to side as he walked, noticing almost every faint rustle of leaves or bushes. Blazefang noticed his odd behavior and watched him, confused.

“What are you doing?” the houndour sneered at Nightshade, giving the bug pokémon a glare.

“Worry about yourself and leave the rest of us alone, unless you have something important to say,” Nightshade replied calmly, turning away from him.

“Blazefang has a right to be curious,” Wildflame spoke up. “I’ve been noticing you acting strange too. What is it?”

Nightshade sighed. “We’re being watched,” he told her, barely above a whisper.

Snowcrystal and Redclaw heard it too, and paused to look at Nightshade in confusion. Thunder had heard as well, but unlike the others, she didn’t seem shocked or surprised. Snowcrystal opened her mouth to question either her or Nightshade, but several fierce cries that seemed to come from everywhere around them at once stopped her from saying anything.

Out of the bushes and trees and up from the river area, several pokémon suddenly appeared, circling the group and hemming them in against the cliffs. There were about twelve of the strangers, and they were all of various species, types, strengths, and sizes, but they were all predator pokémon and seemed to belong to a tribe of some sort.

Thunder’s eyes blazed, and she took a step forward as if about to attack, but Redclaw stood in her way, looking at her pleadingly. For a moment she looked ready to attack him, but then paused and lowered her scythes. She simply did not have the energy.

Knowing that he was making a bold move, Nightshade stepped forward to face the closest two pokémon, a zangoose and a salamence. Both of them eyed him warily.

“Look,” Nightshade began, “I know we’re in your territory, but we don’t mean to be a threat. We’re looking for a place we can rest before carrying on.”

The salamence and zangoose looked unsure of how to respond, when a voice sounded from somewhere nearby. “Oh, leave them alone! They aren’t any threat to us.”

Nightshade and his friends turned to see a linoone jump gracefully from a tall tree growing near the top of the cliff and land beside the rest of the strangers. “I don’t see what the problem is,” the linoone continued, staring at her stunned tribe-mates, “it’s not like there’s any food shortage or anything. And they’ve been traveling for a while from the looks of it.”

The zangoose stepped past Nightshade to face the linoone. “Our leader wants us to make sure any strangers are harmless before they go on through our canyon,” he growled.

“Oh sure,” the linoone replied. “Clearly a bunch of injured and tired pokémon are a real threat to our great leader. Just look at them! If anything, they need help. And at least the heracross knows how to be polite, unlike you.”

Taken aback, the zangoose faced the travelers again. He looked uncertain. “But-”

“Our leader has allowed us to help others in the past,” the linoone continued. “And I thought that was one of the duties of our tribe, to help those in need.”

“That was one of the old duties!” the zangoose growled, but seeing that some of his companions were agreeing with the linoone, he relented. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll take them to the tribe. But don’t get mad at me if our leader rejects them.”

“If he wants to stay leader, he won’t,” the linoone replied sharply. “It is a leader’s duty to allow the tribe to help others and to help as well!”

“Maybe so,” the zangoose replied, “but the leader only helps when he sees fit. And I don’t see what this little group of travelers could do for us. And as for him staying leader, well…he certainly won’t be giving up the position anytime soon. And there are many who support his ways, as I do.”

The linoone’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe not, but if he wants the respect of half the tribe, he’ll help them.” She turned to the travelers who all looked either confused, worried, or both. “Follow me,” she told them. “We’ll take you to a place where you can rest.”

Following the linoone gratefully, Snowcrystal and her friends joined the native pokémon as they all climbed down toward the river.

-ooo-

In the early morning light, the place where Cyclone’s army had been resting earlier lay desolate after the vaporeon had gathered his pokémon together and began undertaking the journey. It was not far, but rounding up everyone had taken time, and Cyclone still needed to find the hidden entrance’s specific location. However, once the army had left the area, the local pokémon lucky enough to have avoided them could breathe a sigh of relief.

But the army had left one pokémon behind. Lying half submerged in thick mud at the bottom of a shallow ditch in the ground was Stormblade. Having no further need for him, Solus had simply tossed him there using his psychic powers after the scyther had finally passed out from pain. Now Stormblade was completely alone, apart from two inquisitive poochyena who approached the ditch curiously, then left when they discovered that he was a half-starved scyther and not some plump prey pokémon. All throughout this time, Stormblade lay senseless.

It was a while before he woke up. When he finally did awaken, he was so dazed that he was hardly aware of anything around him. His wounds were covered thickly with dry or drying blood, and one of his wings lay limp and broken at his side. For a while, he could do nothing but lay there alone in the mud. But the memory of himself giving away his friends’ plans of escape was burned into his mind. He had helped put them all in danger, and though his situation seemed hopeless, he had to warn them.

Stormblade’s first few attempts to stand up failed, and instead he was forced to crawl slowly through the mud and up and out of the shallow ditch. Several times the pain made him stop or suddenly scream in agony, but he forced himself to keep going until he made it out and onto the grass at the edge of the ditch. Once he felt the grass beneath him he collapsed, lying still for a long time.

However, he knew that he could not just lie there. Pushing himself painfully upright, Stormblade lurched forward, nearly stumbling to the ground and stopping his fall by digging his scythes into the soft earth. Even though every instinct within him was screaming for him to lie down and not move, he forced himself to keep going, hobbling painfully and awkwardly on all fours, following the traces of Cyclone’s army which would lead him to the canyon. Several times he stumbled, or became so overcome by exhaustion that he could not move, but every time he got back up again. He needed to find his friends before Cyclone did, and he knew he had to keep going, no matter how slim his chances of getting to the others were. In his confused state, he had no way of telling how far ahead Cyclone’s army would be by now. He only knew one thing.

He was going to find his friends and warn them, or die trying.

To be continued…