Session 52, VP1

The crowd slowly filtered out of the Colosseum as Randolph kneeled down to cradle his friend's body. It took several attempts to break through the man's grief, to convince him it would be best to give Selby a proper burial. Seeming only half-aware, he stood & led the way towards Fate's Mirror.

Streamsford was built on the shores of this placid lake, almost in worship of it. Bergie & Takeru did what they could to assist as Gunnar gathered a canoe. Randolph released Selby's Greninja from its Pokeball, & waded into the shallows. He gently laid his friend within the boat while he cried. There was no shame in releasing these feelings- not here, of all places.

After saying a few words, Gunnar, Randolph & the Greninja pushed Selby's canoe towards one of the small rivers that sprung from the lake. Ghostlights formed beneath the surface, seeming to help generate a current. The Streamsford natives voiced a final prayer to Aegir. With his blessing, the boat would carry Selby past the very edge of Vanachrom. Her spirit had already left for Valhalla, but now her god could inter what remained.

Takeru volunteered to help Randolph to the Pokemon Center so the man wouldn't be alone. Gunnar & Bergie stayed by the lake for a while. Their match in the tournament would come tomorrow morning. Neither wished to face the other, hoping to convince the other to step down. This did not come to pass. Instead, they agreed to give their fight all they had to help each other grow stronger.

A light rain ushered in the following dawn. Once the group ha reunited, they made their way towards the arena. The stigmata on Takeru's hand behind to itch for some reason. When the trainers got closer, they could hear a commotion happening by the entrance. A young farmer was arguing heatedly with some of the ticket-takers. It seemed he had traveled rather far hoping to take part, only to arrive a day too late to join the tournament. Before the situation could escalate, Gunnar pulled the man aside to talk.

He introduced himself as Oyvind, a farmer from Treelawn. Realizing just how far the man had traveled was a shock. Why was this competition important enough for him to make the month-long trek?

Oyvind explained that he ran a small farm with his sister. Last year, he had visited a traveling auction for Pokémon, looking for a friend to help with the workload. He didn't have much to spend; there was a Pokémon so despondent that no one saw any worth in it. The farmers had welcomed in the new addition & tried to help with his malaise. All to no avail.

Eventually, his sister- an Empath- was able to peer a bit into the Pokémon's mind. He had once been a mighty warrior, nearly a Champion, before...well, she couldn't tell what had happened. Only that it somehow involved him falling quite far. She thought that if they could somehow reawaken his fighting spirit, he could break through his deep depression.

Takeru's face grew paler the more he heard. Could it be...? With surprising fervor, he asked to see the Pokémon in question. Oyvind opened the Pokeball in response. As the light settled into a form, the group could see a very pale Blastoise lying on the ground. It shook a bit periodically, & dark veins were visible through its weakened skin. His eyes were filmy & half-closed.

"Squirt...King?" Takeru asked as he kneeled down. The turtle lifted its head slightly to look towards the voice. Even with his eyes as faded as they were there was a hint of recognition in the Blastoise's gaze. Gently, the Pokemon touched Takeru's cheek to confirm he was real. 

Bergie & Gunnar only knew a small bit of Takeru's past, but even with that limited knowledge they could tell this was a bittersweet reunion. Their new friend's face was wracked with sadness & guilt as he helped Squirt King to lay his trembling arm back down.

While Takeru took a second to himself, Gunnar decided to speak with the tournament staff on Oyvind's behalf. He had arrived too late to enter the gladiatorial competition yes, but what about a sort of exhibition match? A Pokemon battle as a palette cleanser between the final bouts? It took some convincing, but eventually the staff agreed. There was just one problem: they had no one who was capable of dueling against Oyvind at such short notice...

Without hesitating for a second, Takeru volunteered to do so. He could tell that Squirt King's physical ailments were the result of his own training all those years ago. If he could bolster the Pokémon's spirits in any way, he owed his old friend at least that much. Oyvind was overjoyed to hear the news, though he confessed this would be his first time ever battling with a Pokemon. Takeru led the farmer into the stands as he began to give him some useful tips.

The stands were full. Gunnar & Bergie entered the arena on opposite sides, releasing Skeldr & Stompy respectively. When the referee asked for their terms, both trainers agreed to fight until one of them was incapacitated. There was a brief moment of silence before the bell rang out, one last moment for both sides to steady their breathing. Then they both charged towards each other in a blur.

Stompy let out a loud cry as a false sun began to shine down through the rain. Skeldr fired small boulders at the moose as trainer met trainer. Bergie wielded the hammer forged by Brunick, while Gunnar fought unarmed. The two traded blows in close quarters as Stompy prepared for a boosted attack.

Before the moose could follow through, Skeldr spun in a circle, dragging his claws in the dusty arena floor. A sandstorm quickly buffeted the area. This not only caused Stompy's false sun to sputter out, it also severely limited the audience's ability to watch the fight.

Takeru strained to see what was happening from his seat. The sounds of repeated attacks echoed across the space, but it was impossible to determine who was hitting who. When the storm finally died down the audience watched as Stompy fell to the ground. Bergie stood alone against Gunnar & Skeldr.

The healer continued swinging his hammer regardless. Skeldr managed to pin him in place with a Rock Blast but Bergie just began to shoot flame from his shoulders. Gunnar stood out of his friend's reach & drew his bow. His taut muscles sent an arrow soaring across the battlefield. It grazed Bergie's shoulder, deliberately, gouging out a small chunk of flesh. There was already another arrow ready to fire.

Bergie's fires quieted. The trainers locked eyes for a heartbeat...before Bergie laid down his hammer & bent his knee. Gunnar had won.

Cheers rang out for both competitors as Gunnar helped Bergie back to his feet. They walked to the infirmary tent together. Bergie made Gunnar swear to survive his bout with Torveig- if not, he'd have no choice but to fight her himself to avenge the martial artist. Gunnar shook on this deal with a smile.

Eplina saw to Bergie's injuries directly, while other nurses tended to Gunnar & the Pokemon. Somewhat sheepishly, she said that she was actually somewhat glad Bergie had lost the fight. Before he could take this the wrong way, she quickly clarified that she had been full of dread at the idea of him facing Torveig. Both healers had a bit of a blush as Eplina finished up her work.

Now it was time for Takeru to have his own battle. It had been so many years since he last fought with a crowd like this watching- until only a few weeks ago, it had been years since he had even had a Pokemon. There was a familiar feeling of pride that threatened to rise alongside the spectator's voices. Yet he knew better than to give into that feeling now.

Across from him, Oyvind gave the crowd an awkward wave. Once both trainers were ready, the match began. Squirt King came from his Pokeball in much the same state as earlier. From his own team, Takeru released Squirt Princess. The Marill quailed at the sight of the arena, but Takeru assured her she was ready for this.

She started off with a timid Defense Curl. While she bulwarked herself, Squirt King fired off a few half-hearted shots from his cannons. What few blasts actually hit Squirt Princess did negligible damage at best. Once she got an Aqua Ring set up, she was as strong as she'd ever been.

Slowly but surely, she wore down the massive turtle. Defense Curl, Rollout, Play Rough! One final blast of Fairy energy knocked the wind right out of the Blastoise. He let out a grunt as he flattened against the ground with closed eyes.

"Come on buddy," Takeru whispered. "You can do this...get back up..."

The crowd began to murmur- was this it? A few minutes of a one-sided fight? Some of them stood, aiming to use this time to stretch their legs before the gladiator finals.

But then...

Shaking limbs pushed Blastoise back to his quadrupedal position. A rumble began in his chest as he continued to rise, swaying unsteadily on two legs. The film covering his eyes was turning bright red. Squirt King stamped both his feet on the ground & let out a brobdingnagian battle cry.

Anchoring himself in place, the Blastoise let loose with an overwhelming Hydro Pump. Squirt Princess faced it with nervous hands on her hips. All of Squirt King's attacks thus far had bounced off of her so far, so why would this one be any different? She soon found out when the wave slammed into her. the Marill rolled end over end, stopping in a dizzy heap. 

Takeru recalled her, ready to call the match. Unfortunately, while he had helped reignite Squirt King's fighting spirit, he may have built those flames up a bit too high. In a berserker rage, the Blastoise continued stomping around & firing off blasts of different types from his cannons. If he wasn't stopped, he would end up hurting someone by accident.

The ace trainer couldn't contain his grin as he released Baconator to pick up Squirt Princess' torch. The type disadvantage meant that the Centiskorch was only able to withstand a short while of Squirt King's fury. 

Finally, Takeru threw out Red Hot Chili Pepper. The Wattrel immediately puffed up his gular pouch when he heard the crowds' cheers. One powerful Discharge later & the threat was quelled. Oyvind rushed to the Blastoise's side to check on him. Takeru watched as Oyvind showered Squirt King with warm, genuine praise. A weight lifted from his chest & soul.

Torveig barged onto the arena floor before the trainers had finished leaving it. Her Chesnaught stood next to her, cracking its knuckles. Gunnar stood under the stands with Skeldr as his enemy hyped up the crowd. He placed his head against the craggy rock of Skeldr's. The two offered a quick prayer to Sif in silence.

The referee wasn't surprised when Torveig suggested the battle be to the death. Gunnar accepted, but with his own conditions: if Torveig won, she was allowed to kill him. But if he won, she would have to cease being a fighter. She would put down her club & take up a healer's kit, until such time as she had earned her name a place on the wall outside the Colosseum.

She accepted these terms with a sneer. To the audience, a deathmatch was announced.

The fighters both screamed as they met inside the ring. Gunnar & Torveig both attacked with overwhelming strength, club meeting fist again & again. Getting too close to the Chesnaught was a death sentence, so Skeldr did his best to fight from range. Skeldr managed to pin him in place with a Rock Blast but the Chesnaught just took up two grass whips from within his armor.

Though Gunnar feared for his best friend, he needed all of his focus to keep Torveig from killing him. The pair were virtually matched in strength, but Gunnar had a tougher hide. One last Karate Chop pierced through Torveig's defenses to reach the side of her head. She recoiled backwards & attempted to stay standing by leaning on her club...before collapsing, unconscious.

Gunnar had no time to savor this victory as another body hit the dirt behind him. He turned to see Skeldr had been knocked out. Only he & the Chesnaught still stood. The Pokemon was still hemmed in by Skeldr's previous attacks but had a mighty reach with its Vine Whips.

After taking a hit from one, Gunnar realized he couldn't withstand another. So, rather than engaging his foe in melee combat, he ran out of range. He stood just inches past the maximum reach of the Chesnaught's strikes. Breathing hard, he took up his bow once more.

What ensued next was a repetition of three simple actions: Gunnar took one step forward, fired his bow, then took two steps backwards. The arrows only caused small damage to the Chesnaught, so this took quite some time. While the crowd had once been yelling their approval, now all of them were booing this turn of events. 

By the time the Pokemon finally fell, the only voices not jeering at Gunnar were his friends'. The referee came over to hold Gunnar's arm high to indicate he was the winner of the tournament. Torveig woke up. Her face was oddly stoic as she surveyed the results of their battle. Gunnar said nothing to her as she recalled her Chesnaught & left the Colosseum.

Now it time for the final bout against the reigning Champion. Tordis & her Empoleon entered the arena girded for battle. She clanged her trident to Empoleon's head-tines. 

"It is time, young one," she said. "Time to give me the ending I seek!" It suddenly made sense why she had seemed so detached when they last spoke. At her age, she had grown tired of the trappings of her position. She wished only for a true warrior's death.

Access to Valhalla only came for those who fell in true, lethal battle. This meant that Tordis would not be holding back in the slightest. Her Empoleon proved surprisingly quick- Skeldr had to go on the defensive as it jetted towards him. Skeldr managed to pin the Empoleon in place with a Rock Blast but the penguin just began to fire off powerful surges of Water. Meanwhile, Tordis used a weighted net to hamper Gunnar's own speed. 

Though Gunnar feared for his best friend, he needed all of his focus to keep Tordis from killing him. The pair were virtually matched in strength, but Gunnar had a tougher hide. One last Karate Chop pierced through Tordis' defenses to reach the side of her head. She recoiled backwards & attempted to stay standing by leaning on her trident...before collapsing, unconscious.

Gunnar had no time to savor this victory as another body hit the dirt behind him. He turned to see Skeldr had been knocked out. A vicious Metal Claw had shorn the stones from off his bottom jaw, revealing raw, bleeding muscle. Only he & the Empoleon still stood. The Pokemon was still hemmed in by Skeldr's previous attacks but had a mighty reach with its Water attacks.

The martial artist dodged his way closer to his final opponent. With mighty Strength, he launched the penguin free of Skeldr's trap & into the wall ringing the battlefield. The penguin leapt to its feet relatively unharmed. It sped at Gunnar with its flipper-blades ready to swing. Gunnar met this charge with one of his own, mirroring the Pokemon's stance.

With a blur, the trainer leapt not towards his foe, but to their side, hoping to take them by surprise. Yet he was not the only one with a final trick to play; in response, a jet of water sprayed the Empoleon's flippers to propel it forward at mach speed. It's heavy steel body crashed into Gunnar at the same second Gunnar chopped his hand straight through one of its head-tines.

Both fighters froze in place as they locked eyes. Gunnar's teeth were grit & one of his eyes was nearly closed from the Empoleon's final attack. His knees shook as he spit out a thin stream of blood. And just when the audience was certain Gunnar would fall...

A metallic thud rang out as the Empoleon crashed to the ground.

He had done it! Gunnar had unseated Tordis, meaning he was now the new Champion of Streamsford! When she came to, the old fighter removed her belt. She passed it to Gunnar with a sigh of dissatisfaction. Before she could leave, he asked if she would join him to discuss some things that evening over dinner, to which she agreed.

The spectators began to filter out of the Colosseum in high spirits. Bergie congratulated his friend with a massive hug. Gunnar explained he wanted to speak to Tordis later about the town & invited both Bergie & Takeru to join. The ace trainer eagerly agreed, but Bergie politely refused with a serious look on his face. He bid the pair farewell & set out into town.

A few hours later, Tordis, Takeru, & Gunnar sat on a pier overlooking Fate's Mirror. Her Empoleon dangled its webbed feet into the cool waters as the humans spoke over food. 

When asked what her plans were now, Tordis said she would be leaving Streamsford to wander the country. Takeru asked her where she had in mind. Her destination was simply "anywhere dangerous". Her death wish may not have been fulfilled, but she still seemed enslaved to the idea.

Gunnar explained that he was on a quest that prevented him from staying in town. He wished to come back when it was over, but for now, he could not defend Streamsford. Dark things were moving in the shadows of the world, & they needed to be tracked to their source. If things were as dire as he believed...it may not be too long before that same darkness came here anyway.

He did his best to convince her to oversee Streamsford in his stead. Tordis mused over this. She might consider such a thing if Gunnar swore to kill her in battle as soon as he returned. For obvious reasons, the martial artist was hesitant to agree to this.

Takeru chimed in. He had trouble wrapping his head around Tordis' desire to pass on. She was tired, true, but that didn't mean she had no worth left. Even a warrior too old to lift a sword can still teach. What if she were to try to pass on her skills to a successor?

It was clear she had never considered things from this perspective. She sat in silence for some time. Finally, she made her offer: she would stay for the duration of Gunnar's year as Streamsford Champion. She would watch over the town, ensure its survival, & seek an apprentice. 

In return, Gunnar must swear that...if there comes a time when she asks for it, he would grant her the death battle she originally desired. It was small, but her acknowledgement that she may wish to live in a year was an unexpected win. The trio parted for the evening amicably.

Elsewhere, Bergie whiled away the time until sunset. From what his friends had said, the river oracle only appeared under moonlight, & he had yet to speak with her. Dusk fell. He sat awkwardly in one of the town's canoes- clearly designed for someone much smaller in stature- & began to paddle towards the lake's center.

He was not alone, as the familiar ghostlights began to wend their way into the sky. Each one rose from beneath the lake's surface, dripping with fog. Bergie soon reached the rocky outcropping he had been told to look for. The trainer took his time tying the canoe off & lowering one end of the rope down the waterfall.

Gunnar, Takeru, & Saffa had described what they had seen well enough that Bergie was not put off by the rotting shack or its decrepit occupant, did not flinch when the door closed gently behind him. When the hearth sputtered to life- like watching a campfire die in reverse- he only smiled at his host.

 

Kolga welcomed him to sit at her table. In a dry voice, she told Bergie that he was able to ask her one question. The healer had spent the entire evening thinking about this. As such, he was the first person not to hesitate, not to ponder out the perfect phrasing at her table.

 

"A time of great danger has come upon Vanachrom," he began. "My friends & I have seen things both wondrous & profane, midwifed both life & death. There is a monster rising from the ocean that comes to consume us entire, down to the soul."

"Jorgumandur," Kolga replied. Her voice was stronger now, her skin less taut on her face. Bergie nodded.

 

"How can such a thing be fought? Stopped? How can we save everyone?" Pain was apparent on Bergie's face as he spoke, a forecast of grief for the lives that could not be spared in the times to come.

 

The spirit reached across the table with both hands- skin now free of blemishes, a mother just past her prime- to reach for Bergie's. His hands dwarfed hers in a warm embrace.

 

Vanachrom floats beneath you, a land of pale green amidst constantly shifting seas. The waters begin to churn and swirl, frothing like a creature driven mad. On both the Northern & Southern coasts of Varfjell, massive forms burst forth from the darkening sea. Two identical, leech-like heads. Two whirlpools of teeth, with tongues of sludge. They bend towards the land to feed. As they do, for just a moment, you see them instead as fangs in a closing maw.

 

One second you are above, the next back upon the earth. Your eyes see the reflected wyrm separately. In both, on each coastline, there stand a few vaguely familiar silhouettes. Humans. People. Trainers. From the very core of their souls light begins to blaze forth. Despite the brightness, it does not hurt your eyes. You watch as every one of them burns a different hue. 

 

They stand miles apart. Yet they fight the same foe. It rides on the thoughts of two twisted minds working in concert unsung.

 

Everything begins to curdle into blackness. Bergie's words echoed in whisper: "How can such a thing be fought? Stopped? How can we save everyone?" 

 

As the last bit of color & light fades, as the weight of the future crushes down upon him, Bergie sees one final image, one tiny spark of hope refusing to be extinguished.

 

Glimmering with the light of the sun both rising & setting, one in each eye, upon each coast. 

 

Two arm-rings of lucent metal. 

 

The small cabin felt warm as Bergie came back to the present. A much younger Kolga sat across from him. A young woman with the promise of years in front of her. He didn't know why, but he felt tears flowing down his face.

 

"I...how can I hope to achieve anything in the face of such fate?" Bergie desperately asked. "I am only a man. Just a man."

 

Every visitor to Kolga's home is granted just one question...

 

"And once, I was just a story," Kolga replied anyway. "Leave here with what love & hope I can drape on your shoulders. With all that I wish for the souls of this land." Though she did not move from her seat, the door opened softly.

 

Bergie opened his mouth to thank the spirit, but could tell she already knew his words. He returned to his canoe with a bittersweet smile. When he reached the shore & looked once more across Fate's Mirror, he saw nothing but sleeping waters.

 

Strangely, only a short amount of time had passed since he had initially set out in the boat. It was late, but not overly so. Bergie wound his way to Eplina's cottage. Her lights were on, & he could her shadow working on something upon her table. She answered his knock fairly promptly. Almost as if she had been waiting for it.

 

Whatever she was making smelled like flowers & morning dew. when Bergie asked what medicine it was, she smiled. Back in Drillsberg, Eplina had let Sylvie copy notes from her medical journal. In turn, she had written down some of Sylvie's custom recipes. This one was actually for a perfume. Eplina explained that when she has a lot on her mind, she finds it helpful to try something new. It somehow helped ease the burdens on her mind.

 

Try something new...

 

With an impish grin, Bergie held out his hand. Curiosity gets the cat- & got Eplina too. She followed and Bergie led her to the patch of grass behind her cottage. He released Froza from her Pokeball. The fox's coat shimmered with the starlight as she gracefully stretched. 

 

A few whispered words later & the Ninetales had breathed a small pool of ice to life. Small pink crystals glinted within. Eplina looked impressed but suitably confused.

 

"You like to try new things, right?" Bergie asked. "Have you ever been ice skating before?" Seeing that she hadn't, Bergie lead by example. He began to slide himself across the rink in fits & starts. Whether it was his flustered expression or the way he kept pinwheeling his arms for balance, something convinced Eplina to join him.

 

Neither was very good, but that wasn't the point. Or rather, that was the point. In the quiet of the night they learned the steps to a new dance, together. Froza saw how much fun her trainer was having & thought she would help just a bit. An Icy Wind began to blow across the ice. It was just enough to make Eplina start spinning in place.

 

At first she seemed worried, but she soon started letting out a wild, unabashed laugh. She stuck her hands out on one pass. Bergie grabbed hold on the next. And then the wind picked up, & the two of them were whirling around each other fast enough to make the stars blur.

 

Eventually the spinning grew a bit too intense. To slow them down, Bergie tried crouching. He hadn't let go of her hands; this had the unfortunate effect of tipping Eplina off-balance. She tripped backwards into a sitting position, her head spinning.

 

Froza let out a yawn & looked as innocent as possible. Bergie favored her with a smile as he bent to help Eplina up. He both her wrists & began to pull...which then threw him off-balance! Bergie fell onto his back. The momentum from this pulled Eplina not to her feet, but on top of Bergie's chest. 

 

There was a heartbeat's space between their faces. In the dim light, both of their cheeks glowed red. With a burst of laughter, they disentangled themselves & climbed off of the ice rink. Eplina thanked Bergie for the wonderful evening. She would need to head back home now though, if she wanted to be packed before tomorrow morning. Bergie felt a burst of hope in his heart. Why did she need to be packed by tomorrow?

 

Well, she didn't want to make the group wait on her to get ready before leaving Streamsford...

 
Bergie turned his head to hide just how wide his grin was. He bid her goodnight, & said he would see her in the morning.

 

The storm had petered out overnight. Gunnar woke in his cabin & stretched. Before the group left town, he needed to have a conversation with Torveig about her the oath she had sworn for their fight. He moved to his door, & pushed. The door didn't budge. Something heavy seemed to be pressed up against it from outside.

 

He leaned out a window to get a better look. Strange: Torveig's Chesnaught was sitting heavily against the door-frame. It didn't respond when he called out a greeting. 

 

Gunnar climbed through the window the rest of the way. A part of him already knew what he would find, but he still approached the Pokemon with a bit of hope that he was wrong. Sadly, he was not.

 

The Chesnaught was dead. Its throat had been slit with a knife, which was currently embedded into one of its pauldrons. A piece of paper was pinned by the blade. The message was exactly as long as it needed to be.

 

"Gunnar.

 

- T"

 

Despite the Chesnaught's size, Gunnar hefted it into his arms. The healers at the Pokemon Center could do nothing besides confirm that the time of death was very early in the morning. A short while later, Gunnar stood in the shallows of Fate's Mirror once more, watching another boat drift into a river mouth. Two funerals in as many days. And this one hung from his neck.

 

Our heroes assembled to head onwards. Gunnar had the unenviable task of explaining what he had found outside of his home. His friends were outraged & disgusted at Torveig's craven actions. To kill a friend, a partner in such a way was unconscionable. Worse yet, the clinical nature of the murder spoke of...ritual. Of sacrifice. But to whom, & for what?

 

This could not stand. Torveig needed to be found & made to stand trial for her despicable crimes. While Takeru & Bergie were fervent on this point, Gunnar seemed seemed oddly hesitant. He eventually agreed, but insisted that the group begin tracking Torveig without him. Though he wouldn't say what, there was one more thing he needed to do before leaving Streamsford.

 

So the frontline of the posse sallied forth to begin the hunt. While Gunnar returned once more to the lake shore, his heart sinking like a stone...