Maya Martin has always dreamed of becoming a Pokémon
trainer and making her way to the top of the Pokémon League. After the sudden
disappearance of her brother, Bryce, finding him and repairing her family
became her top priority. Determined and stubborn, she vows to let nothing stand
in her way.

Neil Léonide comes from a well-respected family of Pokémon
trainers, but he wants to make a name for himself that doesn't rely on his
family's success. With his two friends, Maya and Patrick, he sets off to become
a Pokémon trainer his family is proud of.



Ten years later, these two friends look back on their past
and think on their dreams, wondering if the reward is worth the cost.

Chapter 1: The Never-Ending
Journey

“Okay, let's
see—I got a change clothes, a blanket, a few potions, extra Poké Balls, a
flashlight with extra batteries, some hairpins, and a few cans of non-perishable
food. Everything a teenage girl needs to go sneaking off in the night," I
whispered to myself as I sifted through my bag one last time. I hadn't even
left yet and it already looked as if it had survived the last war. The seams
where I sewed up rips were close to bursting from the bag being overstuffed. “Looks
like I'm all set. I just hope I'm not forgetting anything."

Something
nudged against my leg. I turned to see my partner, Dust, staring at me with an
annoyed look, his orange ant-like body glistening in the dull orange light of
the streetlamp shining through my bedroom window. His comically large head was
strangely proportionate with his body, but I always found the large head made
him cuter. Trapinch weren't really anyone's first choice for a Pokémon (most
kids preferred “starter" Pokémon such as Charmander or Froakie or Chikorita). But
those Pokémon were only given to a trainer after
they received their trainer's license. Dust had been with me since I was
four, and I wouldn't trade him for anything.

I
glanced at the Pokémon and went back to my bag, pretending not to notice him. Technically,
playing games with a Pokémon that could take my leg off with a single bite was
not the smartest move, but Dust was more bark than bite (unless someone pissed
him off). He stamped on the floor with his stubby legs, opened his massive
mouth, and cried loudly to express his annoyance with being forgotten.

That
was a reaction I did not see coming. Normally, he started doing things to get
my attention: getting in my face, blocking my path, gently tugging at my
clothes—that sort of thing. He did cry sometimes, but it was rare. I bent down
and snapped his mouth shut as quickly as I could, his cry echoing briefly in
the darkness of my bedroom before silence fell on us. For the next several
minutes, we stood there in the semi-darkness of my bedroom, listening for any
sign of movement. Other than the sound of my hurried breathing, the house was silent.
We waited a few extra minutes just to be safe, we had to be sure my mom wasn't
just waiting for us to lower our guard before she came bursting in, trying to
make me feel guilty with one of her rehearsed lectures. She didn't want me to
be a Pokémon trainer, and I was past the point of feeling guilty about wanting
to be one.

Once
the coast was clear, I breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at my partner,
“Dammit, Dust, are you trying to get us caught?!" I hissed under my breath, “I
was joking; you know I would never leave you behind."

Dust
whined and looked down at the floor. I rubbed the top of his egg-shaped head
and said in a much gentler tone: “I'm sorry, buddy. It's my fault for playing
such a mean trick on you. I shouldn't be playing around right now anyway. We
have to get as far away as possible before morning."

Dust's
star-shaped eyes lit up at my words. He thrilled softly and jumped onto me and
nuzzled my cheek. I gently push him off me and stood up, grabbing my backpack as
I took one last look around my bedroom.

I wonder how long it
will be before you see this place again, I wondered. How long before you sleep in your own bed,
wake up to smell of pancakes in the morning, sit around with your family at the
table during breakfast and dinner.

I think you got things
mixed up, I replied to my conscience, My family hasn't sat at the table together
in two years. I been stopped waking up to the smell of dad's cooking,
discussing my day with mom, and pretending we were happy. I won't miss much.

The
shelves surrounding the upper portion of the walls were covered in Poké Dolls,
most of which were covered in dust or covered in stitches in a sloppy attempt
to repair years of abuse or both. My eyes settled on the one stuffed toy that
showed the most wear and tear. It sat on the shelf closest to my bed, nestled
between a Charizard doll and a Mienshao doll—the final evolutionary forms of my
friends' first Pokémon. I took the Absol from the shelf and examined it in the
yellow glow of the street lamp outside. It was old toy my brother Bryce had
given me when he came back from one of his trips. He claimed he bought it from
Kalos Champion Diantha. Knowing Bryce, it meant he probably found it in some
gift shop somewhere or stole it from a bitter ex-girlfriend.

I
couldn't help but laugh at how beat up it was. Its once white body was now more
of a dingy grey. In several spots, there were red splotches where Bryce messed
up trying to dye its face, claws, and tail. Both the curved horn and fin-shaped
tail had both been sown with deep blue thread of its original color instead of
red, so it stood out even in the dark. I traced my finger down the tribal-like
marking dyed on the left foreleg. I still had no idea why he bothered to dye it
this color or put the design on its leg, but it looked pretty badass. I once
asked my parents if I could give Dust a tattoo or at least paint a design on
him. They said “No." Apparently doing that was cruelty to Pokémon or something.
Once, I drew on his back anyway, and they made me scrub it off.

I
chuckled one last time and moved to place the toy back on its shelf, when my
chest felt tight. My fingers refused to do as my brain told them and let go of
the doll. Leaving it behind felt wrong. Why not keep a little piece of home
with me as I travel, right? It could be weeks or even months before I could
come home again, and that was assuming I was allowed back.

 “Screw it," I mumbled as I tossed my bugling
bag on the bed and began to make room for the stuffed Absol. Dust whined.

“Aw,
c'mon, don't be like that," I said, still squeezing the toy in with the rest of
my stuff. “Dia means a lot to me, you know that. It wouldn't be fair to leave
her behind."

Dust
grumbled under his breath and turned his back to me. I always thought Absol
were cool and wanted it to be my first Pokémon. Instead I got Dust. I'm not
complaining or anything; I wouldn't trade him for anything. But he felt differently.

“Y'know,
jealousy does not look good on you, buddy. Besides, I don't see what the big
deal is. You're the first; nothing can ever change that. Besides, I plan on
catching one during our journey so may as well make peace with it," I added
under my breath.  

I
swung the bag over my shoulder and moved to finally get out of there. The one
thing I hated doing as a child was sneak through the house at night. There were
pictures of family members on the walls; as a little girl, I always feared they
were watching me. My father told me they were watching me, and if I traveled
the halls at night, they would reach through the picture and pull me inside. I
knew now he was full of it, but old habits died hard. I kept my eyes focused on
the floor ahead of me to keep from looking at the pictures of my relatives on
the walls. The light from a nearby streetlamp shining through the window was
all Dust and I had to guide us through the dark hallway. I made sure to avoid
the spots in the floor where it creaked with Dust following my cautious lead. When
I reached the top of the stairs, I paused. My eyes were drawn to the closed
door at the other end of the hall, the door to Bryce's room. But it wasn't a
room—not anymore. Now it was more like a museum or a massive memorial. Once, I
tried to clean up because the room was getting dusty, and my mother had a fit. “I
want everything exactly how he left it," she said. That room was where she
spent most of her free time although she would never admit it. The tightness in
my chest returned.

Dust
whined softly and nudged my leg. He stared at me with a look that clearly said:
“You got this." I nodded, and crept
down the stairs. I made sure to avoid the middle step since it creaked. Dad
always claimed he would fix it one day, and of course, he never did. But he
hadn't been back here in years. Fixing the stairs wasn't his problem anymore.

The
moment we reached the bottom of the stairs, Dust gave a soft cry before running
for the small table near the front door where we left the morning mail. Instead
of unopened credit card offers and old magazines, the table was cluttered with
different items all grouped together in a sort of care package. From the bottom
of the stairs I could make out the distinct shape of Full Heals and Super
Potions sitting on top of other things I couldn't make out in the dark hall. On
top of them was a piece of paper.

I
tried to read the note, but it was too dark to read it, even with the light
coming in from outside. So I risked using the light from my cell phone to read
the note. It was handwritten; the writing definitely belonged to my mother.

I knew you
would try to leave anyway even after we told you not to. And don't try that
“I'm just going to fulfill my dream of becoming a Pokémon trainer" nonsense. We
both know you plan to look for Bryce while you're out there.

I know you
want answers, but sometimes it's better to let things go. I know it's hard, but
you have to accept that he's gone and he isn't coming back. I won't start going
on about how it's been several years and the trail has most likely gone cold
because we've had this argument so many times, I can recite how it will go by
myself. Besides we both know how determined you are and how much you will enjoy
proving me wrong.

Here's
something for you since you're going to leave anyway regardless of what this
note says. You take after me, so I know a goodbye isn't on your agenda. Don't
worry about your father. I already made sure he understands, but maybe you
should visit him before you leave. Just don't forget you're free to come home
anytime.

Stay safe.
And I hope you find the answers you're looking for.

P.S. I fixed
your chain for you. Try not to lose it again.

Sitting
on top of the care package was a chain with a custom Poké Ball attached on it. Instead
of the standard red and white design, this one had a deep blue flame design on
its upper half. The lower half of the custom ball reminded me of the desert
with its sandy brown color and wavy lines drawn on it. Setting the chain and
Poké Ball to the side, I used the light from my phone to examine the care
package my mom left for me.

There
were several, full heals, super potions, full restores, different types of
berries, and some bandages all sitting on top of a booklet called How to Catch a Wild Pokémon: A Beginner's
Guide to Starting Your Journey. The medicine, berries, and bandages I quickly
stuffed into my already overflowing backpack, and it took several failed
attempts before I finally managed to close it again. The map I placed in the pocket
of my jacket. I left the booklet behind. I didn't need some fancy guide written by
someone who had probably never caught a Pokémon in their life.

I
plucked the Poké Ball from the chain and held it up to the light. The ball had
been polished to the point I could see my face in its reflective surface. I
remembered the day I received it from my uncle. It was the day I got my
trainer's license. He had the Poké Ball customized to match the colors
representing the types of Dust's final evolved form. When my parents found out I
got my license, they were pissed. They made threats about how they would take
it away if I ever tried to use it. Me not becoming a trainer was the only thing
they agreed on anymore, so I wore it all the time just to get on their nerves.
One day, the chain broke and I almost lost the ball. I wanted to fix it myself,
but it didn't come cheap.

I
crouched down and held the Poké Ball up to Dust, “Okay, buddy, what do you say
we start our journey?"

Dust
sniffed the Poké Ball and opened his mouth to cry out, but quickly snapped it
shut again. Instead he stepped forward and bumped the Poké Ball with his large
head, causing him to disappear into the Ball in a flash of light. The Poké Ball
then made the distinct clicking sound indicating my Pokémon was locked inside.

I'll take that as a
yes.

Clipping
Dust's new Poké Ball to my belt, I headed out to begin my journey.

The
streets were deserted. All the windows in every house on the street were dark.
The cars slept peacefully on the curb. Even the sounds of Pokémon, which at
times were enough to keep someone awake at night, were gone. It was as if the
entire town had fallen asleep. The silence was…unnerving, just me and the
silent night sky. If this were a movie, I would definitely have to watch for
monsters or a serial killer roaming the alleys.

I
pushed the ridiculous thoughts out of my mind and started walking. Over and
over again I told myself: Don't worry,
I'll make you proud of me. I'll become Pokémon League Champion and bring Bryce
home. I promise. With each step I cast a quick glance over my shoulder,
half-expecting to see my mother standing behind me, ready to grab me and drag
me home kicking and screaming. Her note and the care package said different,
but it didn't mean she couldn't change her mind. Every time I checked for signs
of my parental pursuer, I was greeting by silence and empty streets of Aquacorde
Town. It wasn't until the house was almost of my range of view that I could go
ten feet without looking over my shoulder. I was actually disappointed to see
she wasn't there.

Don't do that. You
said you would do whatever it took to make your family whole again. Don't pussy
out now.

I
broke into a run and I didn't stop until I reached the edge of town where my
friends were waiting.

Patrick's
tall, muscular build was immediately obvious when I reached the end of the
bridge at the edge of town. Even at 14, he was built better than anyone else I
knew. Not to mention he was also waving his arms over his head like a crazy
person, so missing him wasn't an option.

Neil,
who was leaning against the nearby streetlamp, pretending not to see me, stood
out even more than Pat did. The light from the streetlight shining on his red
hair made it look as if his head was on fire. His hair was long enough to rival
mine, and he claimed he was never going to cut it. He was the opposite of
Patrick physically (he claimed he had muscle, you just couldn't see it). He used
to be shorter than me (which I threw up in his face at every possible
opportunity), but he got his smugness back since he hit his growth spurt. While
he was still shorter than Pat, he was taller than me, which made me punch line
of every short joke in existence. He eventually stopped pretending to ignore me
and pointed at the watch on his wrist. I rolled my eyes at his dramatic show of
annoyance. To be fair though, I probably kept them waiting outside far longer
than we planned on. We agreed to meet at the bridge at midnight, and it was
already 12:15 when I left the house.

“Yo,
Maya," Patrick called, still waving his arms like he was trying to signal a
plane. “We're over here. Hurry up so Neil can stop whining."

Neil
frowned and punched him in the arm then went back to pretending I didn't exist.
I fought the urge to roll my eyes again.

“Sorry,"
I said between breaths as I slowed my run into a light jog to close the
remaining distance.  My bangs stuck to my
forehead, my lungs felt ready to burst, and my legs felt ready to give out. “I…had
to…take care of…some things."

Neil
tossed his red hair and looked at me, his green eyes and wide forehead shining
in the light of the street lamp. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his
red jacket and looked at me with a solemn look on his bony face. “You need to
take this more seriously, Maya, we almost left you behind. I don't know how you
expect to become champion if you can't even make a simple appointment on time."
He turned on Patrick. “And I wasn't whining."

Patrick,
laughing, bent over to throw a muscular arm around my shoulder, my legs
buckling slightly under his weight which he was most likely putting extra on me
on purpose. His dark brown hair cast a shadow over his face, making him look
like the shady guy you shouldn't trust. “I just spent the last two hours
listening to: 'Where's Maya? We're gonna be late'," he said in a mocking
high-pitched voice. In his normal voice, he added, “I don't know about you, but
to me it sounds like whining. I don't see what the big deal is anyway. We
weren't standing here that long."

“No,
we weren't here long, just long enough to plan our route through Kalos…twice,"
Neil said.

“And
decide exactly which Pokémon we wanted to take with us as well as which moves
we wanted them to learn," Patrick added.

“Aaaand
work out our strategies for all eight gym leaders—"

“All
right, I get it—I'm sorry I kept you guys waiting," I responded, pushing my
friend off me. “It's just…it was harder to leave home than I thought it would
be."

Patrick
and Neil stopped smiling. Every trainer had to leave home at some point. We
knew this day was coming the day we decided to become trainers. When the other
kids in our neighborhood left, it was a big deal: a big party was thrown, gifts
were given, friends and family came to see them off. After a big, teary
good-bye, they left on the life-changing journey to become a Pokémon Master.
Now it was our turn to leave. It was just me and my two friends standing in the
empty streets at night, alone, sneaking off like we were doing something wrong.

We
couldn't even say good-bye to our parents. Mine would try to stop me, Patrick's
wouldn't approve of him helping me, and Neil's weren't home.

“Yeah…I
almost didn't leave. I know I can come home anytime, but we have no idea how
long we'll be away or what we'll be up against. But that's kind of the point.
Knowing what's waiting for us kind of takes the fun out of doing it," Neil
said. He looked down at his sneakers and kicked at a tuft of grass sticking
through the pavement. “When we were kids we spent every waking moment
pretending we were off having exciting adventures. But now…every time I think
about actually having that adventure…it
scares me."

“True.
It does seem scary when you think about it. But we all know what's waiting,"
Patrick said, smiling at us.

I
proudly held my fist out and said in a strong voice: “Glory."

Neil
looked up and smiled. He put up his fist next to mine and said in a similar
dramatic voice: “Fame."

Patrick
held his fist next to Neil's. “We shall become the very best. Like no one—" he
burst into laughter. Neil and I doubled over, joining him.

“I
tried, but I couldn't do it. It's too funny!" Patrick said.

“We
sound like dorks!" I added, using my knees for support in my own laughter.

“I'll
admit, it sounded much cooler in my
head," Neil said. “I can't believe we used to think that was cool when we were
kids."

We
stood there for several minutes, laughing and leaning on each other for support,
our screams of laughter echoing in the dark streets. Eventually, I stopped
laughing long enough to speak again, “Okay, guys that's enough. We should get
going before the sun comes up. But before we do, I just wanna say"—I took a
deep breath—“that I appreciate you guys coming with me. It's not like you
needed to sneak off in the middle of the night to start your journeys and you
didn't have to wait for me either—"

“Maya,
we promised we'd go together," Neil said, waving away my thank you.

“Besides
we're not gonna let our best friend go walking through the woods alone in the
dark," Patrick added. “We'd never forgive ourselves if we let something happen
to you."

Neil
chuckled. “Besides, you are the worst when it comes to getting anywhere on time. You are always the last one to show up. You couldn't
even meet us on time—and this was your idea. Knowing you, you'll be late to
every gym battle."

Pat
smiled. “Knowing her, she'll be late to her own funeral."

“You
both sound like my parents," I said irritably. “Are you two done making me the
butt of your jokes?"

“Someone
has to be the adult," Neil argued. “After all, if you can't get anywhere on
time, how do you expect to find your brother?"

I
defiantly stamped my foot. “Look, I can handle myself! I didn't ask you two to
come along with me, Dust and I can handle it just fine. Now if you're going to
lecture me the whole trip, you can keep your ass here 'cause I don't want to
hear it! Now you either help me or stay the hell outta my way!"

My
two friends stared blankly.

My
cheeks grew hot and I stared down at my feet. “I-I'm sorry. I spent months
arguing this with my mom…and even if she is letting me go, I know she doesn't
completely approve. It's just…I need this. I promised. I just feel like
becoming Champion is the only thing that will honor his memory."

A
hand tapped me on the shoulder. “Don't sweat it," Neil said, “And I'm sorry for
throwing a cheap shot like that. I know Bryce is a sore subject. Now c'mon, all
this sentimental stuff is making me nauseous.  Besides, I thought you wanted to be outside of
city limits before sunrise." Neil started down toward the bridge leading to
Avance Trail.

Patrick
shrugged and motioned for me to follow him. “Let's go become champions."

****

“Yo, champ,
you're up next."

I
started at the sound of the usher's voice, snapping out of my daydream—or
nightdream since I knew it was dark outside even without windows in the dingy, dimly-lit
waiting room they had me sitting in. I wished I was walking away from Aquacorde
Town, joking with my friends as we snuck into the night. No, instead I was
sitting in an old abandoned arena located in the armpit of Lumiose City
reminiscing about ten years ago like my eighty-year old grandmother. To avoid
looking at the dirty, taupe-colored walls, I kept staring at the scuffed Poké Ball
in my hands. Even in the dimly lit room, I could make out the usher's
reflection in the battle-scarred surface of the blue and brown ball.

 “Ex-Champion," I corrected with a small hint
of annoyance in my voice.

“What
do you mean? I mean, technically you're not the champ yet, but after what I've
seen tonight, I doubt you're in any danger of losing your streak. Tonight's
prize is as good as yours."

I
lifted my head. It was easy to forget that not many people knew I was once the
Kalos League Champion. I preferred it that way anyway. “What? Oh…I was talking
about a different tournament, that's all."

The
usher whistled. “I hate to see the trainer that managed to beat you. Anyway,
you should get going. Good luck."

“Yeah,
so would I," I mumbled as I re-attached the Poké Ball to the chain and slipped
it over my head. I rose from the hard metal bench (and tried to ignore the how
numb my ass felt from sitting on it for so long) and headed through the double
doors leading to the arena.

I
frowned the moment I step out into the hall. This place stinks. I slowly made my way down the dimly lit hallway,
my hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jacket, my hood blocking my view of
the graffiti stained walls.

A
familiar yet strange voice began talking in the back of my mind. You know this smell; it's the smell of fear,
of pain, of defeat. Right now, your pain, your fear is adding to the stench.
It's funny how different this place is
from the League, yet it all feels the same: the same anxiety, the same fear,
the same pain. This is where wills are tested and dreams die. But you already fulfilled your dream, didn't
you? You're the Champion of the Kalos region, right? Your will doesn't need to
be tested anymore, so why are you here?

The
sound of my footsteps echoed through the empty hall. Oh, wait…Ex-champion. That isn't the dream anymore. You have a new
dream now, right? So, what's the plan? You gonna “take no prisoners" and do
whatever it takes? Give up and make up excuses so you'll sleep better? Just
admit it: You're a failure and you know it.

The
walls pressed down on me from all sides. It felt like a Butterfree has moved in
and made a nest in my stomach. I mumbled under my breath to ignore the voice
talking to me.

Oh, right, ignore it.
Just like you're ignoring the promises you made…and broke. That's right, focus
on the task at hand; let nothing stand between you and victory, just like
before.

The
bright light at the end of the hall moved away with every step I took. I wiped
my palms on my jeans and kept walking. “It's
just nerves. I'm nervous that's all. That pit feeling in my stomach is not
guilt. It's nerves." My voice echoed
through the hall.

The
voice became louder, easily drowning out the echo. This isn't a game. It never was. Think about the hopes and dreams
you're crushing tonight alone. All so you can get your fix. “It has to be done,"
is a lie you tell yourself to justify the dark things you did--the things you
are doing now. You're weak. You're a liar.

The
smell bore down on me, rising from an unpleasant odor to an unbearable,
mind-blowing stench. It became a chore to breathe. I fought the urge to turn
around and run back to the double doors. You're
too young and naïve to know any better. You're going down the exact same road
you've been wandering for ten years. After all that talk of doing things
differently. Of going down a new road. The only thing different is the
destination.

The
lights grew dimmer. My vision darkened as the light at the end of the hall
continued to pull away.

“Calm
down," I whispered. “You knew what you signed on for when you came here.
Remember what Bryce taught you: You walk onto the field with no regrets, and
you walk away with your head high regardless of the outcome. Focus on what you
have to do now; you can worry about clean up when you see how it ends."

The
walls reverted to their original positions, the lights returned to their
original half-bright glow, and the end of the hall rushed forward, changing the
distance between us from miles to just a few feet. The roar of the people outside
filled the hall as if someone had just found the world's volume knob and turned
it up full blast.

It
felt as if a bag had been pulled off my head and I could breathe again, my
breath coming in short, shallow breaths. I removed my hood as I stepped out
into the arena, the bright lights nearly blinding me. The people filling the
stands erupted into a thunderous ovation. My eyes eventually adjusted to the
lights and I could make out the hundred, maybe two hundred or so people on the other
side of the concrete barrier surrounding the battlefield.

I
took my place at one end of the arena, my blood pumping as I stared at the
craters and scorch marks covering its uneven, desolate surface. It was much
different from those dressed-up League arenas. Just a sweeping glance revealed
half-a-dozen safety violations.  

The
crowd quieted slightly before erupting again. I watched stoically as my
opponent strutted through the opening on the other side of the battlefield and took
his place on the opposite side of the field. The man appeared to be twenty,
maybe a little older. Even with the distance between us, I could see a cocky
smile on his clean-shaven face as he waved his arms, pumping up the crowd.  He dramatically removed his brown leather
jacket, revealing tattoos all over his arms and threw it on the ground behind
him. He pointed a finger in my direction, his grey eyes burning with fierce
intensity. “Today is the day your streak ends, princess. You've ruled over
these halls tonight but, now it is time for my reign!" The crowd once again
erupted into a deafening roar of cheering as he threw his Poké Ball into the
air.

The
ball burst open, dropping a large Pokémon onto the battlefield in a flash of
light. The Venusaur stamped its four thick legs, shaking its massive blue body
and causing the large flower on its back to release spores into the air. It
then roared loud enough to be heard over the crowd, scattering the spores in
all directions and sending the crowd into a frenzy. Its red eyes burned with
the same intensity as its trainer's.

I
continued to stare at the man, unmoved by his speech and his Pokémon's
introduction. I can smell your stench
from here; you're just as afraid as the others were. You're nowhere good enough
to take me. I didn't mean that because of my champion status. Well, not entirely because of my champion status.
After several years on the road, a trainer could determine the skill level of
their opponent, just by looking at them and their Pokémon. A Pokémon just
developed a sort of presence that all but outright said “don't fuck with me."
This guy didn't have it, and neither did his Venusaur. It didn't really matter
anyway. I had one job tonight; crush the competition. Regardless of my opponent's
skill level, I would win. I had to.

I
removed the Poké Ball on the chain around my neck and held it above my head.
The ball opened, releasing my partner Dust, now fully evolved into a Flygon. He
was a dragon-type, but he looked more like a bug-type with his rhombus-shaped
wings, long green antennae, and the red coverings over his eyes. The stadium
lights reflected off the dragon's green scales and luminescent wings as he flew
in a circle overhead before setting down onto the ground. Dust looked over his
shoulder at me. I could see the determination reflected in his eyes behind
their red coverings.

Despite
the roar of the crowd, the announcer's voice echoed across the stadium: “ARE YOU READY? 'CAUSE TONIGHT WE HAVE A SPECIAL TREAT FOR YOU! IN ONE CORNER, WE HAVE THE YOUNG WOMAN WHO HAS BEEN WOWING YOU ALL NIGHT--MAYA MARTIN!"

Everyone
managed to cheer even louder. Dust's antennae drooped and his tail twitched in
irritation, the three rhombus-shapes at the tip shaking.

I know how you feel.
I thought. It doesn't feel the same as
when we were in the League. Even the cheering crowd sounds different. I can't
tell if it's the volume or just hearing them saying my name that hurts. Or
maybe it's because you know exactly why we're here. Why we're doing this. I
wanted to say these things out loud, but with the screaming crowd, Dust would
never hear me.

The
large screen at the edge of the arena came to life, showing my flawless win-lose
record for tonight's tournament alongside my profile picture. Looking at the
hazel eyes of the trainer in the picture made my stomach tighten.  The innocence I once saw in my eyes when I started
my journey ten years ago was gone. The way she looked over her shoulder made
the profile picture look more the poster of an action movie. The trainer's brown,
shoulder-length hair blew in some unseen breeze yet still managed to flow
around her head so her face wasn't covered or blocking the view of the fierce-looking
Flygon standing behind her. A caption appeared above the picture reading: Maya
and Dust, The Unstoppable Desert Storm!

“I
can't believe I posed for that stupid picture," I mumbled. “And what dumbass
came up with name 'Desert Storm?' "

Dust
glanced at me over his shoulder with a smile on his face.

“Glad
one of us thinks this is funny."

The
announcers voice drowned out any other thoughts. “AND IN THE OTHER CORNER, WE HAVE DARYL KLEIN, A YOUNG UPSTART BORN AND RAISED RIGHT HERE IN KALOS!"

The
other trainer waved his arms at the mention of his name as the crowd chanted
and screamed. His Venusaur made another dramatic display of power, this time waving
thick vines hidden beneath the large flower on its back in the air. It whipped
the ground around it, kicking up a small cloud of dust.

Dust
merely shifted his weight and continued to stare at his opponent.

“THIS COULD BE HISTORY IN THE MAKING PEOPLE! WILL MAYA CONTINUE ON AND LEAVE HER MARK IN THE UNDER, OR WILL HER LEGACY BE BROUGHT TO AN ABRUPT YET HOPEFULLY EPIC END?"

Daryl
held his arms over his head and shouted something, but it was impossible to
hear over the crowd. It didn't matter anyway; he was destined to lose. His
Venusaur glared at Dust, taking two steps forward onto the battlefield.

 “LET THE MATCH BEGIN!" the announcer cried.

“Dust,
use Fire Blast!" I shouted.

Dust
roared, launching a large fireball from his mouth.

Daryl
smiled. “That is too obvious. Venusaur, use Light Screen."

The
Venusaur planted its feet and the air around it began to shimmer as a wall of
light appeared in front of it. Dust's Fire Blast struck the wall and exploded
into a five-pointed shape. Just seeing the display made my heart being to race.
The Venusaur stumbled backwards and shook its head as if trying to clear it. It
then looked at Dust with wide, fear-filled eyes. Daryl's smile dropped. The
intense fire that once burned in his eyes had become a dying flicker.

The
voice in my head roared with laughter. He's
already lost his confidence. That Light Screen blocked most of it, but it still
hit with more force than he expected it to. He'd probably shit himself if he
knew how much Dust held back.  He's lost
and he knows it. I shook the voice out of my head. The gap between our Pokémon
was so large, this poor bastard couldn't even go out fighting. It wasn't funny.

“OH
NO! DARYL'S FROZEN! IS HE ALREADY OUT OF IDEAS?" the announcer cried. “IS THE
MATCH ALREADY OVER?"

Daryl
jolted as if he just realized where he was. He pointed dramatically at his
Pokémon. “We're not out of this yet! Venusaur use Frenzy Plant!" his voice was
full of panic.

Venusaur
reared up on its hind legs and roared as it dropped on all fours with enough force
to make the ground tremble. Several thick, thorn-covered vines snaked through
the ground toward Dust.

Without
waiting for an order, Dust flapped his wings and took to the air, flying right
over the vines. Daryl's eyes widened. My heart sped up its jog. The cheering of
the crowd sounded distant. It felt like little hooks were tugging at the
corners of my mouth, forcing a smile on my face. I shook the thoughts from my
mind and tried to focus on the battle. This
isn't some intense battle between two equal trainers. This was one-sided from
the start. Calling it a battle is an insult. I shouldn't be enjoying this,
I told myself.

“OH
NO! DARYL'S COME BACK ATTACK MISSED, AND NOW HE'S WIDE OPEN! THIS IS THE END
FOLKS!"

“Dragon
Rush," I said.

Dust
streaked towards his opponent, his body shrouded in a fierce red aura. Venusaur
and Daryl's eyes widened in unison. Dust slammed into Venusaur and sent the
large grass-type flying into the outer wall of the battlefield.

The
crowd fell silent and watched intently as gravity peeled the Pokémon from the
wall and dropped it cruelly onto the ground. Venusaur groaned, but made no
attempt to get up.

The
crowd went into another frenzy as the announcer cried: “THAT'S THE END FOLKS! I
CAN'T BELIEVE IT! MAYA MARTIN HAS DEFEATED HER OPPONENT IN JUST TWO MOVES! SHE
MAY HAVE JUST SET A NEW RECORD FOR QUICKEST VICTORY! GIVE IT UP ONE MORE TIME
FOR MAYA!"

It
felt like snapping out of a trance. The crowd no longer sounded distant. I could
feel the muscles in my face relaxing as the smile slid off my face. Dust flew
back over to me and casted an angry look at the screaming crowd.

I
rubbed the side of his neck and said softly: “I know. I'm not proud of it
either. But honestly, I don't think they care if the match is unfair. They're
just here to be entertained. Besides we just came for the money anyway, we weren't
expecting a fair fight."

POST-STORY NOTES:

I'm trying out a lot of things here with this story including
writing in first-person, and I'm really hoping the opening chapter isn't too
confusing. I left a lot of things up in the air on purpose
and hopefully it isn't too jarring. There will be flashbacks later on
explaining some of the major events that took place between the start of Maya's
journey and where she is today which I hope will make it clear why she
isn't happily retired. There
will also be more battle scenes that will be much longer than this one, a few touching moments (that I'm doing my
utmost to keep from being sappy), and a car chase culminating into an epic sword
fight atop a volcano that will decide the fate of the world. 

Okay, I made up the last part, but the other stuff will be there.