POV FABIO ANELLI
The tent flaps snapped in the wind, a cold gust dragging pine and ash from the burned trees. Frost clung to the canvas, cracking under Ren’s boots as she shoved papers at Elara. I leaned on the half-crate desk, its splinters biting my palm, the ore report crumpling under my grip.
“Take a look at this,” Elara said, her voice low, steady, passing me a sketch. Her brown hair clung to her neck, hazel eyes slicing through the dim light as she tapped the page, a Magikarp, scales peeled, cooked alive by some bastard’s Flamethrower on New Bark’s coast. “Crystal sand patches east of town. Fallen trees, exposed rock. It’s a graveyard now.”
I let the paper sit there, heavy. Glass sand. Dead fish. I traced a finger over the Magikarp, its ink smudging under my thumb. Johto’s fire burned fierce once. My Elite 4 tore through them, Verdeen’s vines snapped under Tyranitar’s weight on Route 28, his smug face twisting as I cuffed him. A win. A breath. Then she came. Agatha. That bitch. Her eyes, cold, hollow, stabbed through me, her Gengar’s claws sinking into Sam’s back while she smirked before the other one attacked the exposed back of Jeen. I flexed my fist slow, the paper creasing, folding in on itself.
Even the fight type specialist was surprised by her devious tactics. Espeon’s glow kept me breathing that day. Tyranitar roared, took the hits, atracting Agatha's and Bruno's attention. Without them, I’d be ash scattered cold on that road. Johto’s flames would gutter out, snuffed by her grin.
Elara’s voice came again, steady, pulling me back. “Fights stopped weeks ago.” She handed Ren a list, Kanto’s trainers, high ranked ones, kids not even sixteen, some names crossed in black. Her fingers left ink streaks, smudged like blood. “Foreigners are close. Talks might hold.”
Since the beginning we had no opportunity. My Elite 4 picked their fights well, but when tested with powerhouses like Bruno and Blaine the only thing they could do was stop them from joining my battles. Elara and Ameri were by my side in every one of them.
I stared at the list, letting it blur. Kids. I hoped they spared ours. At their age, I’d have been the same, patrolling with fools, laughing, one step from a ditch. Elara fought Bruno that day, her steel holding him while I dragged us out. Diligent. Sharp. She deserved better than this tent.
Ren shuffled beside her, lanky, black hair half-hiding her eye, hands unsteady as she stacked reports. Too green. Too young. Outside, a soldier coughed, wet, fading into the wind. “Less sleep now. Food’s better,” he rasped. I snorted soft. Better slop won’t stop Kanto’s trainers. Every night, lanterns glared across the valley, ours, theirs, a line of light waiting to break. A valley of darkness between us, thick with the threat of ghosts.
The ore report stared back at me. Kanto’s greed, mines gutted, mountains bled dry. They’d sell their roots for a cave’s dust, kill their own to point the finger. That plant wasn’t me. No one under me could’ve cut that clean, killed civilians, walked away. I squeezed the paper, slow, edges tearing under my grip. My jaw tightened. They’d burn it all and call it justice.
If only the old hag wouldn't exist. They wouldn't have anybody to stop me. She single handly moved the whole border kilometers towards us. She made sure to be above me every time we crossed gazes while trying to kill each other. Her smirk. 'What are you doing to do now?' As if anything I could posibly do wouldn't change the results. No wind could stoke our dying flame, not under her shadow. She stood there, smirking, as if Johto’s embers were hers to crush.
Her eyes looked at me accusingly. Like she really believe their own lie.
I sighed, loud, slow, air hissing through my teeth. My shoulders sagged, muscles uncoiling, the chair creaking as I slumped, ore report still clenched in one hand.
Elara’s voice droned on, reading the confirmed dead--our dead. Names I knew flickered past, Rhea, Torin, others were just numbers, victims of this wicked war.
The radio crackled alive, sharp, cutting Elara’s list. Ren flinched, lurching for it, passing it over with trembling fingers. "A170184, do you copy?" A voice popped through static.
"Copied that. Talk." Elara's voice was blunt.
"Hoenn's delegation confirmed the location, 10 kilometers east of New Bark at 1900." The voice popped with ocasional interference.
"Copied. Out." She looked at me, eyes knowing. I nodded.
A golden iridescent feather hung from a cord above. It swayed every time the tent opened its entrance or a gust of wind prickled our skin. The older soldiers called it the luck charm from Ecruteak's old tales. Old tales said it lifts the fallen. We will see.
I readied myself for another round of documents I need to be ready. I had to be sharp. Feelings wouldn't sway Hoenn’s delegation, they’d hear cold data, not Johto’s embers. Maybe this was their game, both sides fishing for cracks, reports stacked like kindling.
A distant screech echoed from the peaks, not a rare thing these days. Ren paused, shrugged it off, probably another Skarmory hunting for food. The Pokemon beside her stood straight. Her Ninetales ears perked up, its tails frozed in place making the figure of a bloomed flower. The fur on each one stood out as its muscles tensed. The eyes of the creature were of one determining the answer from an ancient question. Fight or flight.
The seat squeaked loudly against the floor while my legs moved instictively.
Ren’s Ampharos shifted beside it, wool dimming, static snapping soft at its hooves. Its tail bulb flickered once, then dulled, a lantern guttering low. Its gaze lost on the tent wall.
The entrance threatened to open completely from the cold wind entrance. Outside, Elara’s Skarmory crouched by the tent’s edge, feathers glinting red in torchlight. Its wings flared slow, beak snapping once, a steel cry tasting the sky. Magnezon hummed loudly beside it, magnets twitching, static spiking sharp, its eyes locked above.
I stood there, watching the expression of every Pokemon. My legs slightly flexed, my hands ready on Tyranitar's Pokeball in my pocket.
Espeon slipped through the tent’s side, a violet blur trailing. Quick Attack. She stopped sharp, fur rippling, eyes glowing fierce fixed on me. She felt it too-
Another shriek tore through, sharp as ice splitting stone, drowning the wind. My ears rang, a high whine chasing the echo. The liquid that stubbornly raged in my veins froze on its way. Every hair on my body stood up. My chest seized, ribs creaking like I’d pressed a ton and lost. Breath stuck. My skin prickled against the clothes as if threatening to start sweating. The goosebumps traveled all over my body. An unnerving, unending loop.
It was them.
This was the play they were waiting for. It made sense. Just before the truce was going to be seriously discused--cut their problems straight from the root. While Ameri was protecting the campments nearby New Bark it was the perfect opportunity to isolate every one of us.
Her again. Agatha. She’d wagered Johto’s fire would gutter out the first time it met something it couldn’t melt. She doesn't know me. I am gonna kill her. Even if it's the last thing my body allows me to. The last beat from my heart won't happen before hers.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Blaine. Bruno. Agatha. Even if Samuel suddenly shows up the world will know we didn't kneel before them. If my life its the sacrifice needed to spark the flame to burn Kanto. So it will. I'm gonna make sure i'm not going without her.
My right thumb moved from Tyranitar's ball to Typloshion's while my right hand stopped on Heracross'. Click. Both expanded in my palms. Two red beams slashed the dark, filling the gap between me and the entrance.
I started jogging to the exit with my Pokemon in front. "ELARA! get Ren out of here and evacuate the rest of the people."
She finally snapped with my voice. Besides her, Ren had one hand on her knee while the other grabbed he head as if it was going to explode. She clenched her body involuntary on pain. Just before I took my last step outside, her chin jerked up, blood spilling from her nose, streaking her hands, her gray trench coat, crimson. She gasped, a wet choke.
Focus.
Espeon moved besides me. 'Its something strong, I dont know if we can take it.' she mentally communicated.
'How strong?'
'Never felt this, not Agatha, not that pair of Dragonite.’ Her voice trembled in my skull, a thread fraying. I’d never heard her waver, not once. I've never heard her talking like this, not even against Agatha and Bruno.
Clouds choked the sky, cold biting my face. Campfires hissed dead, soldiers sprawled with bloody noses, the younger ones with red streaks under their eyes, arms limp around their head.
We can't forgive this. No discrimination nor mercy. Not even for the younger ones who were dragged to the conflict for us.
A sharp whistle cut from above. White snowflakes drenched my arms and stopped me on my tracks. Hail started falling, asaulting the tent to my right side. Canvas ripped, poles snapped, the whole thing buckled under the weight. More pounded down, cratering the dirt. Espeon protected me with a barrier that didn't buckle against the shards of ice.
The pressure my body was feeling increased sharply. My body wanted rest. Wanted to kneel before the storm. Lay before the disaster that was in front of me.
No time for talks, no room for grudges. If I don’t move, death will.
The snowflakes coming from the sky started moving in a circular pattern, hail fell everywhere my eyes followed. I looked behind me, Ren tried to run, get away as fast as she could while her body struggled to stay up. Ninetales body was steaming, its face strained as its fangs showed with struggle. The steam from its body dissapeared as a slight mist generated around shivering Ren's body.
Elara charged out behind me. Steelix burst free, massive, roaring at the sky--waiting. Skarmory’s armored body gleamed, reflecting torchlight. “Skar! Up and dive,” she barked.
The bird’s metallic screech stopped short. One wingbeat--it was gone, dirt and snow blasting where it launched. Steelix’s serpentine bulk crawled in front--
Thud.
Something slammed the ground beside me, heavy--a shockwave kicking up frost and dirt. Ice splintered loud, a crater blooming where it struck. Shards flew, jagged, glinting red in the dying torchlight. Metal snapped--feathers clattered loose, scattering like broken blades. I squinted through the hail, wings twisted wrong, a beak buried in cracked earth, steam hissing off a frozen shell. Skarmory. Its dive cut dead, encased in frost, feathers locked mid-flare, one eye dull under ice.
Steelix reared back, a groan rattling its frame, ice crept up its tail, cracking steel segments, metallic blood seeping from the splits. It thrashed, slow, wounded deep.
How?
This thing behind the hail, it wasn’t beneath anyone. Kanto couldn’t chain a disaster like this, flesh and frost born to kill. From the peak, a shadow cut the storm, wings wide as the valley, blue ice glinting sharp, eyes glowing cold, unblinking. The air turned solid, every breath a blade, threatening to snuff us out.
“GET OUT OF HERE!” I roared. “HELP THE REST--I’LL HOLD IT!” Elara’s hand shook, slamming the buttons on her Pokéballs. Steelix vanished with a loud pop, red light swallowing its bulk. She aimed at Skarmory, nothing. The bird didn’t budge. Her hazel eyes widened, mouth twisting, horror cracking her steel--her ace was gone, dead in a blink.
“RUN, DAMN IT!” I screamed. Magneton hummed behind her, static flaring, nudging her forward as she stumbled, head jerking back once before it shoved her on.
My hands moved fast, three clicks. Tyranitar burst out, roaring loud enough to shake the earth, defiant. Kingdra followed, jets of water hissing from its snout, proud as any dragon. Ampharos stood steady, bulb dim, waiting. Red beams lit the dark, my team alive against the ice.
An Ice Beam hit behind me. The tent I’d been seconds ago blew apart, canvas shredded, papers flew. One dropped at my feet, “Total Victims.” I smirked inside. Funny.
Espeon pulsed sharp in my head. 'No time for jokes, Fabio.'
'Tell them, stand fast,' I shot back. Her eyes glowed, and orders spread quick.
The Pokemon descended, slow, deliberate. The cold stabbed my skin, burned raw, breath froze in my throat. A soldier’s body nearby iced over, brittle, shattering when a rock rolled into it, dust and shards in the wind. Grass whitened, puddles cracked.
The bird’s wings flared. Blizzard roared in—a wall of white, swirling tight, a hurricane born of ice. Me and the creature in the eye, snow howling around us, the world gone to frost. My team stood with me. Typhlosion’s flames flickered low, Heracross’ horn gleamed, Kingdra coiled, Ampharos sparked faint, Tyranitar towered, Espeon glowed at my side.
I burned inside. I’m Johto’s Champion. Survived Agatha and Bruno’s ambush, Gengar’s claws, fists flying and walked out alive. Caught Verdeen, that smug Grass bastard, with Elara and Ameri by me, staring down Blaine’s fire until he escaped. One bird wouldn’t end me. This wasn’t my last day--not against nature, not against ice. I’d fight ‘til my blood boiled dry, Until Johto’s fire scorched the sky. Bring it.
The fight kicked off. Espeon threw up barriers, and Ice Shards smashed against them with loud cracks. Tyranitar bellowed, kicking up a sandstorm--grit clashed with snow in the air. I barked at Typhlosion, “Burn!” He charged forward, flames flickering orange, still weak. Kingdra fired off Hydro Pumps that smashed hail aside, then Scalds steamed hot toward the giant bird.
Tyranitar moved next. Rocks cracked inside him like when he was a Pupitar, echoes rumbling deep. Each boom shook the ground as he picked up speed, jets of dust blasting back from his bulk. Stone Edges flew ahead, sharp and fast. He closed in, and Giga Impact roared out. A glow wrapped him, huge, unstoppable. He slammed into the wild Pokemon, and the earth tore open under the hit. Dirt sprayed high, ice shattered in a wide arc, the shockwave knocking me back a step. The creature screamed, loud and sharp, the storm trembling with it. Ground smoked where Tyranitar landed, cracked wide.
The unknown beast vanished into the blizzard, white swallowing it whole. Ice Beams flashed out from the haze. One caught Tyranitar--his arm locked in frost mid-roar. Typhlosion spun back, orange flames licking over the ice, melting it slow until Tyranitar shook free. Hail spun thicker from random directions, and a chunk grazed me, my shoulder popped loud, pain shooting through. I hit the dirt hard.
I stood up grimacing. Espeon locked eyes with the creature as it broke through the haze, her psychic grip stalled it for a breath, trembling with the effort. Typhlosion growled behind me. His flames shifted--orange burned brighter into yellow, then flared blue-purple, hotter than hell. Mist curled off his body, small drops falling as ice melted near him. The ground hissed red under his feet, steaming where he stood.
“NOW’S IT!” I pulsed through Espeon. Ampharos charged in close, and the sky broke open. Thunder crashed down, a thick bolt slamming the bird dead-on while smaller rays branched wild around everyone, lighting the storm. Tyranitar lumbered forward, tossing rocks as he went. His chest swelled, air sucking in. A giant beam hummed loud from his mouth. Heracross limped up beside him, horn slashed quick, then his own Hyper Beam joined in. Kingdra coiled tight, purple energy ripping out from its snout, tail dug into the dirt to hold steady.
Espeon strained hard, barriers flaring bright to shield me from the chaos I’d unleashed. The creature shrieked--fog hid it as our attacks collided. Ice snapped sharp around us, freezing harder. Silence.
When I thought we finally ended with the creature, a shadow rose through the mist, wings beating slow with a hint of green aura around it. Roost. It was healing mid-air.
“Fucking Roost?” I snarled inside. Gave it everything, and it just patched up. Blizzard raged stronger. I gritted my teeth. “ROUND TWO!” My team snapped to me, beat but breathing.
A roar tore through--wild, hot, shaking the ice. Mist rose fast where it melted ahead. A shape burned into view, red wings trailing fire. Another giant bird. It landed besides the blue one, flame meeting frost.
My gut sank. A tale from Cinnabar flickered up, the year I took the crown, crashing at some fisherman’s shack after a fight. Old man, reeking of salt and booze, mumbled about his grandpa watching a bird of fire sleeping under the volcano. Said it torched a fleet once, left ash on the waves, thought he was full of it then, just a drunk’s ramble. Now it stared me down, real as the ice. I’d buy time--every damn second I could. Thunder growled far off in the distance, a storm was closing to the south.
They turned to me, Typhlosion dim, Tyranitar glaring, Kingdra tight, Ampharos weak, Heracross bleeding, Espeon fading. The blue one primed Ice Beams, sharp. The orange one flared its wings, fire gusts brewed wherever it flew. Thunder cracked loud, and a gold flash streaked behind me, sharp, quick, cutting through the white.
Ice and fire came for me.
Johto, remember me standing until the end.
