March Hare (A Pokémon Fanfiction) - 3.R1 Foundation
Dappled in a pattern of light and shadow, provided by the erratic tree-cover overhead, a Luxio stalks through the undergrowth.
Despite the deciduous shrubbery, he is almost completely silent. His careful footfalls do not disturb the forest floor, his shoulder-blades a suspension that dampens the shifting weight of his body.
He is on the hunt.
With specialized eyes growing more skilled every day at discerning electric currents, he searches for prey. Since his evolution, daylight is no longer a great impediment to this sense, but intervening objects still disrupt it.
Spotting a pair of shifting patterns, he stops. The Winter air is cold and dry here, but he breathes carefully, creating no clouds.
Slowly, he navigates through the foliage, until he can see his targets with traditional vision. A pair of Zigzagoon.
When he was a young Shinx, still hunting with his pride, he would have targeted the smaller, closer Zigzagoon. Now he waits, and observes.
They play with a cracked Cascoon shell, its previous owner having discarded it upon evolution. The larger one places a broken-off half on her back, and proceeds to walk slowly, bowlegged, to much amusement from the smaller one.
Clever.
Whether knowingly or not, Cleo changed everything. Watching the two play, Rayn cannot help but wonder what could have become of the Pokémon he is about to kill. Meals are more than meals, now, they are people.
But he must eat. He must. So he watches.
Which of you should die?
He approaches slowly, deliberately stepping on a crackling cocoon fragment. He is finally spotted, and startled screams disrupt the forest’s peace. The chase is on.
The Zigzagoon are frantic and unskilled, tripping and getting in each other’s way often. Rayn follows deftly, maintaining a constant distance. Judging.
The bigger one seems to regain her wits, and dives into a small tunnel hidden by a wide fern. The smaller one follows, their thick fur compressed to reveal the sinuous body underneath. A Luxio would not fit.
Rayn follows aboveground, soon finding the exitpoint at the bottom of a small dip in the terrain. His vision still cannot pierce the earth, but the tunnel seemed somewhat straight, and he can still hear. The Zigzagoon are not quiet.
They emerge panting, and he Growls to show his presence above them.
The larger one whirls to stare at Rayn, eyes wild and despairing.
She snaps.
Turning, she Headbuts the small one and resumes her flight, sacrificing her fellow.
A vision comes to Rayn’s mind, unbidden. Cleo, guiding her brother through the trees as he slows her down, risking her life. Dragging his body out of the mud, suffering a Thundershock for it.
Rayn decides.
All pretense abandoned, he leaps over the fallen Zigzagoon, chasing his chosen prey in earnest.
He quickly gains on the larger one, the clever one. The traitor.
The Zigzagoon has only a moment to look back, but there is nothing she can do. A Sparking collision and a Bite to the neck later, it is over.
As Rayn eats, he dimly notices the small Zigzagoon watching, poorly hidden in the Winter scenery.
A glance catches the Zigzagoon’s wrathful eyes not on his hunter, but on his former sibling.
The Luxio turns back to his meal.
-Z-
The distance to Sunyshore disappears beneath Rayn’s feet, consumed by a trot designed to last the day. If he hopes to surpass Cleo by the time they reunite, he must hurry.
He has foregone Routes and cut straight south-east through Sinnoh’s forests, but she will still have a few days’ head-start. No matter. ‘Strength suffers no excuse’.
His father’s words grate against his mind. Should he not seek something more?
What else, then, does he seek? What else does he want?
Nothing comes to mind.
Absorbed as he is, Rayn almost misses the way the foliage moves strangely just ahead. The surviving leaves waver in concert, oddly coordinated. Against the breeze.
Dispelling his thoughts, he tries to discern the edges of the effect. As he studies the surroundings, he notices a faint shape in his lightning-vision. It tilts and sways with the leaves, mirroring them perfectly. Or perhaps they mirror it.
Stalking silently, Rayn’s path through the undergrowth reveals the likely culprit.
A large, green-scaled beast, hauling a thick dirty-yellow shell. Greenery seems to grow freely on his back, the most baffling of which is a full tree sapling, bark white striped with brown.
Rayn frowns minutely. Cleo would know what he is.
As it stands, it is easy to guess a Grass typing, but not much else.
Rayn’s attention is torn away from his thoughts by the Grass type’s display.
The movements are slow and alien, but their purpose is unmistakable. Training. He steps and leans, alternating snapping Bites with the safety of an interposed shell. The unseasonably green leaves flowing around him strike at the space in front while the shell protects, then flow around the sides to make way for a Bite, covering the flanks.
The control is clearly better than Dusty’s Razor Leaf. Interesting.
“If you are going to try to kill me, now is as good a time as any.”
Rayn looks around himself, then studies the ground. “How did you spot me?”
The Pokémon smirks slightly, halting his practice. “You would have me reveal my tricks before I fight for my life?” His diction is slow and clear, trained for leadership as Rayn and that Prinplup were. ‘Kings do not mumble’.
Rayn steps into the open, his cover now pointless. “I am not hungry.”
“Is that so?” the Pokémon mutters. He looks Rayn over, considering. Rayn keeps silent. It is rarely the wrong choice.
“…The leaves. You disturbed them. You are not a local Luxio, are you?”
“No. I am Rayn.”
“A Trained Pokémon?”
“No.”
“…Grotle. What interest have you in me, then? If you can spare the words,” he finishes with an amused huff.
“Information,” Rayn says. He locks eyes with the Grass giant. “And a spar.”
Grotle does not bother to hide his interest. “Oh? Go on.”
“Sunyshore. Is it far?”
The leaves orbiting Grotle slowly fall to the ground, his focus dissipated. “Looking to join the Gym?”
Rayn says nothing.
“Fine, keep your secrets. We are close to the city; you should start to smell the sea soon.” Grotle gains a self-satisfied air. “There is a place even closer that might interest you, though: the Gym Leader’s training grounds. A short walk from here, towards the sunrise.”
Rayn nods, somewhat surprised he’s gotten so close already. “Thank you. Now…” He positions himself properly, at his and Cleo’s typical starting distance.
Grotle adjusts himself, clearly pleased. “You are an interesting one, Rayn. Not many ‘Wild’ Pokémon would spar with prey. As a good faith warning, I will tell you I am considered quite good.”
Rayn flicks an ear, his own smirk emerging past the blank façade. “I suggested it. No need to entice me.”
“Ha! Well, you were warned. Whenever you are ready.”
With the initiative ceded, Rayn takes the opportunity to analyze his opponent.
His instinct is to rush in. Why?
Grotle looks bulky, slow. His control of leaves… Yes. Rayn is better at range than Cleo, so in their spars it is up to her to approach, while Rayn counters her first move. Here, Grotle’s Razor Leaves probably beat his Shockwave, and the Grass type seems to have a high opinion of himself. Surprise favors Rayn.
As usual, his instinct is correct. Target legs or neck, likely a trick, assume two.
He leaps forward.
Grotle drags a front-leg through the grass, shaking the leaves that grow on his back. A misdirection.
Rayn spots a small Grass Knot forming, ready to trip him. His stride lengthens to avoid it.
One.
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Jumping for a pair of rapid Scratches aimed at the neck, Rayn’s claws skitter on the edge of the shell suddenly in place. Grotle tilted his body slightly, just enough to protect him. Not slow. Leaves or Bite to counter.
Rayn steps back to see his opponent, then releases a stored Shockwave, a decent answer in either case.
He is surprised to find himself surrounded by Razor Leaves. His electric discharge only incinerates a small area around him. Attack or lose.
Grotle eyes the Leaves being controlled, neck exposed. Rayn leaps for a vicious Bite from the side.
The neck disappears, Withdrawn into the shell. Rayn flies past, baffled. The head went into his body!? …Two.
No matter. Landing on his front paws, he Double Kicks at Grotle’s knee. Other Luxio do not know this. It is over.
His footing disappears.
The Double Kick falls short, and Rayn smacks his chin into the ground. Confused, he glares at the earth that just swallowed his paws.
There was not a hole there. He scowls. Three.
“My win?” a muffled voice asks.
Grotle’s head emerges, studying Rayn with a neutral expression. Razor Leaves still surround the Luxio.
“…Yes.” An ear flicks. “I did not know you were Ground as well.”
“Not yet. Soon.” Grotle stomps lightly, and the hole is filled, the clearing becoming flat once again. “I am impressed. Most trip on the Grass Knot.”
Rayn busies himself cleaning the dirt from his fur, waving his tail dismissively. “A low standard.”
With the rush fading and a mindless task to occupy him, Rayn’s thoughts resurface, impossible to avoid.
This situation is familiar, and the impulse is there to make a bargain with Grotle. A defensive Grass and Ground type is a terrible matchup for him, perfect for training. …Repeating what Cleo did with him. Following the same footsteps again.
Why is he really seeking out the Gym? Because it is said to be the strongest? Because Volkner knows more about Electric types than Rayn knows about himself?
Because it is what Cleo is doing.
A flame roils in his gut.
“A sore loser? I did warn you.”
Rayn looks up. He forgot Grotle was even here.
“Why do you train?” The question is spoken before it reaches his mind. He does not regret it. Now is not the time for pride.
Grotle considers him. After their spar he seems to regard Rayn with some respect, his earlier cockiness dissipated.
“Hmm… You are a curious one, Rayn. To challenge prey to a friendly bout, then ask for its motives. Do you have trouble killing?”
Rayn glares.
“Not my business. I apologize.”
Grotle wavers, but eventually speaks again. “…I have a mission.”
“A mission?”
“A… calling, you might say. Something my family does, and I too will do.” He seems reluctant, but Rayn is unsatisfied.
“What is it?”
“We…” Grotle sighs. “If you head north from here, you may come across a treeline, wavering against the wind. Much like I was practicing. If you do, turn around and leave. We guard that place, and friendly Luxio or no, to invade is to ensure death.”
Rayn inspects Grotle’s expression, finding him completely serious. What could merit unconditional death?
Cleo would know. The thought lacks the bitterness he expected to accompany it, only bringing a fond remembrance for nightly tales. He refocuses.
“What are you guarding?”
Grotle’s tone becomes threatening, his words an unbreakable promise. “I will not, can not say. You need know only this: Should you ever think to intrude… Turn. Back.”
The following silence is heavy. Rayn is certain of Grotle’s conviction.
The answer is exactly what he asked for, and completely useless. He has nothing to guard, no mission to fulfill.
Except…
Cleo’s dream of humans and Pokémon looms large. He cannot even say he grasps all of it, but it still calls to him. He… he wants it. His life had been nothing but hunting, learning to hunt, resting from the hunt, training to take hunting spots from others. Then in a single month, the… size of the world was made clear. The breadth of things that had never entered his mind.
There is still much more, he knows. And Cleo will not succeed alone. She appeals to the humans, to let them give up their control and knowledge willingly. She can not give power to Pokémon by giving power to humans. He knows this. He knows what he would do in her place… No.
Cleo’s dream. Not Rayn’s.
Again, his father’s words echo. ‘A Luxray is a Leader. A being that commands fear and awe alike.’ He cannot be a follower.
…There is nothing else.
A sharp sting in his claw brings Rayn’s mind to the present. The ground beneath is scratched haphazardly, an unconscious motion. A cracked nail sends faint pulses of pain, from where it clawed at a buried rock. He frowns.
“Rayn?” Grotle looks at him curiously, his previous intensity faded. “It feels as though there is a layer to the conversation I am not grasping.”
Rayn stands, and begins heading toward Volkner’s training grounds. “Good spar. Will you be here tomorrow?”
“…Yes.”
Rayn nods faintly. “I may come again. Be assured that I will make it worth your time.”
No more words are exchanged as Rayn treads on, hoping the Electric master will reveal something to him…
Anything.
-Z-
First he feels it. The charge in the air. The smell, that sense of potential waiting to be unleashed, almost an itch.
Then he hears it. The constant buzz of lightning. Similar to Bug speech, yet completely different.
Finally, emerging into the wide, grassy field whose grounds are pockmarked with scorches and craters… he sees it.
Electric Pokémon train moves and movements all around, Magnemite and Flaaffy and Electrike and Pachirisu and Pikachu… and other, similar small Electric types Rayn has no knowledge of. He had thought at least in this his parents had taught him enough.
There are even three other Luxio leading a group of Shinx.
All these Pokémon and the humans with them are nothing compared to the central display. Two humans, with the air of Leaders among the others, a yellow-furred male and a brown-furred female, surround the storm of power that called to Rayn.
A yellow-and-black giant, similar yet nothing like the Electabuzz he once saw, absorbs great Thunderbolts with his two tails. His fur stands on end, small arcs zapping erratically across it. How much lightning is he harnessing?
The two Pokémon supplying the continuous current are a tall Ampharos… and a Luxray.
Rayn is transfixed.
A Luxray.
Somehow, despite the… everything in his life, it is the first time he has actually seen one.
Regal. Powerful. Imposing.
Actinic lightning wreaths the Luxray’s form, pouring off him.
I will surpass you someday.
As if sensing his disrespect, the trio end their display of Electric mastery. The Luxray turns to gaze at Rayn. They lock eyes.
He is skewered.
All defiance flees as Rayn is peeled apart under this being’s scrutiny. The golden eyes glow with a light that darkens the world around them. He knows, without a doubt, that his every facet is seen. Through fur, meat, bones, into his very soul. Rayn is Judged.
“A challenger approaches! C’mon Senko, lay off him.”
Senko looks away. Rayn can breathe.
As reason returns, the world comes back into focus. The blonde human examines Rayn curiously, then turns to his female companion. Rayn barely hears his words in the surrounding noise.
“Jasmine, this is good practice. A Wild Luxio enters our clearing, seeming interested in our training. Can you recruit him?”
Jasmine eyes Rayn, biting her lip. She takes a breath, then heads his way, forcing herself to look Rayn in the eye. Her serious expression is forced.
Rayn catches low mutters as Jasmine approaches, uttered quickly under her breath.
“…proud, competitive, less aggressive toward the opposite sex… eye contact, stand your ground, don’t be affectionate too early…”
She stops at sparring distance, Senko and the blonde male just behind. The other Pokémon and humans further afield give Rayn a cursory look.
“Hello. I’m Jasmine,” she says, then gestures to the two behind her, “and these are Volkner and Senko. We’re from the Sunyshore Gym. Would you like to join us in our training?”
This is Volkner? Rayn re-examines the man. Volkner faces him head-on, Luxray at his side. Unworried, but not dismissive. Acknowledging, but not yet respectful.
Rayn nods absently. He can see it.
“I am Rayn,” he addresses to Senko. “I want to train with the greatest Gym, but I will not be caught by a Trainer.”
Senko huffs, eyes once again trapping Rayn in their light. “Little kitten. You want the benefits but not the duties? Training is not given.”
“I will earn it.” A snap distracts him.
“Senko, enough. He’s talking to Jasmine,” Volkner says. His tone is light, but the command is clear.
Senko seems to disagree, but sits and turns his gaze toward the group of Luxio. Annoying. Rayn will have to communicate his demands to the humans, somehow. Maybe just Thundershock them if they try to catch him.
Jasmine takes a step forward, back straight. Her hands fidget. “Luxio, I can help you. Starting this Summer, I will be the Sunyshore Gym Leader. I know what I’m doing. You can get stronger here.”
Gym Leader? Rayn looks to Volkner. The human hears the unspoken question.
“I’m challenging the Elite Four soon. Jasmine will take over the Gym. I’m staying to help out until the season ends, but this is her turf now.”
Rayn flicks his tail. As Cleo would say: Yeah, right.
A sharp exhalation makes him glance back at Jasmine. “Oh, that is it! Zone, get in here!”
A low hum from above has Rayn whipping his head up to stare at the Pokémon descending to Jasmine’s side. The large Steel creature is clearly related to Magnemite, most likely their final form.
The Electric energy pouring off it is immense, and it seems to float by pushing away at the world with a force Rayn feels deep in his core. He had not noticed Zone at all.
“Barrier. I need to have a talk with Luxio.”
An enclosure of flat surfaces snaps into existence, opaque mirrors that isolate them from the outside. The surroundings become muffled. Jasmine strides up to Rayn, stopping within touching distance.
He studies her closely now. When she locks eyes with him, the fidgeting uncertainty is gone. He had thought it to be fear. He is not sure anymore.
“Alright mister, I’m tired of being ignored. You have two options. If you want to train with me, join the Gym. I’ll help you with fundamentals then teach you Ice Fang. Electric’s only weakness is Ground, but Grass and Dragons also resist it, and Ice is great against all of them. It’s the best coverage you can get. Then Zone or some of my other friends can help you with Iron Tail. I’m quite good with Steel, and your species’ thin tails with bludgeons at the end are perfect for it. Then Amphy can train your Electric energy production and Zone’s magnetic fields will help you target your Discharge into a powerful Thunderbolt or even Thunder. I have plenty of experience.”
After her rush of words, Jasmine stares at Rayn, almost daring him to dismiss her. Rayn waits.
“If you don’t want that, turn around and leave, and we can get back to doing what we were doing. What’s it gonna be?”
She stands, arms crossed, waiting for his response.
Breathing steady, jaw set… shoulders relaxed.
Not bluffing.
“…Rayn.”
She arches an eyebrow. “Is that a yes?”
He glances at Zone. “My name is not Luxio. It is Rayn.”
Zone dips momentarily in a nod. Its curved appendages begin to spark and spin, accelerating until a small but continuous stream of lightning arcs between them. The air hums.
“zZRRAAAMRREEe. rRRAAYYNRZz.”
“Oh. Your name is Rayn?” Jasmine interprets, easily deciphering the buzzing tones.
“Yes.”
“I see. Sorry for calling you Luxio. Well, Rayn?”
He hesitates.
He had come to train with Volkner, the supposed mightiest Leader…
Rayn’s own words overpower the tenets imprinted on him. ‘I am not a fool who sees only strength’.
That was the core of it, after all. To dream simply of Strength is small and empty, he now knows. Perhaps Jasmine will show him something else.
He nods.
