The next day, I was once again training on my own. Working with Darren had been fun, but we were both preparing for possibly the biggest competition we’d be entering yet, and we had to keep some tricks from each other. I was happy with our progress. All of my Pokémon, even Comfey, were focused on the goal. As we were finishing, from the corner of my eye, I saw Elaine approaching. She walked with a slight limp and had her left arm in a sling. All the confidence I’d been building up since Wavecrest, or possibly Rondo, when I started to have a better understanding of myself, dropped, and I fumbled with the pokeball when recalling Flaaffy. Here was another conversation I was anticipating with no small amount of dread, and unlike the one with Darren, I had far less reasonable arguments for it. I tried to keep my cool , greeting Elaine and asking her how she’d been.

  “As well as you can see,” she said, more jovially than fit the subject.

  “Is it broken?” I asked.

  “A little, it’ll be fine. I heard where you were from Jade.”

  I nodded, wondering how to broach the subject we were both thinking of. I decided, as usual, being direct was best.

  “Popplio went, mostly well?”

  She shrugged.

  “I guess. We got Thundurus to calm down, at least. That’s a win. But getting through to him while fighting off Killian was... tough. But we did it, and we’re no worse off than Killian. Thankfully. I’ve had a brief respite since then and haven’t encountered him again. I doubt he’s given up though. He’s set on catching Meloetta. His obsession might be the scariest thing about him, and that’s saying something.”

  “And Meloetta is?”

  “Back at the Pokémon Centre. She should be safe enough, and it’s better to avoid bringing her into crowds.”

  “Of course, makes sense. So, you’re going to Bagatelle next.”

  “We are, Ducky says the legendary there is called Landorus. He was worshipped by the Stone-Anvil tribe, who occupied the area way back. He’s not causing as big of a ruckus as Thundurus, but he’s dangerous all the same. After that, we’ll be going south to confront Tornadus. He’s causing a massive storm over Povar Valley, but it’s not getting as much airtime because it’s away from any towns or major routes.”

  “Okay,” I said. I tried to pretend I understood more than I did. I was more than a little lost, with all the talk of legendaries and everything, I was completely out of my depth. It didn’t matter though. There was something I wanted to do, and danger, or legends, or whatever, wasn’t going to stop me.

  “I’m going with you to Bagatelle,” I said. She sighed, like she was expecting this.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Because it’s more important than the circuit, or anything else,” I said. I had that answer prepared, at least.

  “But it’s dangerous,” she tried. “I mean, look how I came out, and no offence, but you’re not strong enough to deal with the potential dangers we’ll face.”

  Her words were hard, but they were said with a lack of strength behind them, either because she was more tired than she let on, or because she knew I wasn’t going to back down.

  “I’m stronger than I was, even a while ago, but that’s not the point. Is there really nothing I could have done to help in Popplio? Even something small? Calming these, these legendaries is the most important thing in our lifetimes, and in front of them, is there such a difference between me and you?”

  “Just getting close to them is difficult,” said Elaine. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll manage. I mean it when I say I’m stronger.”

  Anyone else, I couldn’t have convinced. Even I knew it was a stupid idea, and my arguments were weak, but Elaine understood me in a way others wouldn’t, because it was the same feeling she had when I first met her. Reason, ability, fear – and I was terrified, it all fell away in the opportunity to impact the world in a meaningful way, and make it better. And I’d decided in Silverwind this was how I wanted to do it.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “If you win the third round you can come,” said Elaine. “That’ll be a three-on-three, probably with an experienced trainer. Show me you can stand on their level, and I’ll admit you probably won’t hold us back. It’ll give me a few more days to rest too. Dad has been worrying. Alright, let’s leave all that aside. You finished training, haven’t you? Let’s go eat something.”

  The Caprice tournament began with all the fanfare you’d expect from one hosted in a major city. It was held in yet another part of Petilil Park, with the major arenas complete with stages, seats, and Kadabra maintained barriers. Aside from the new level of people and claustrophobic impulses, there was nothing new about the opening ceremony, which dragged on as usual. The first round, however, was a little different. Due to the huge number of participants, one match each day would make the tournament excessively long, therefore, in the first round, we were divided into blocks of ten, and after a series of two-minute matches, which, assuming there was no knockout, were scored on the number and quality of hits, and the top two scorers would move on to the next round which would be elimination as usual. I was in block D2. Thankfully, I recognised no big names in my group, and by the nervous looks on some of my opponents' faces, I could potentially be in for an easier time than I could have hoped.

  Only one of my opponents stood out in any way to me. She was a girl, it was hard to tell her age, with purple hair styled into comically large purple drills. There was something not quite right about her. I didn’t know if it was in the way she moved, or her smile, or her voice, but she was unnerving without ever being threatening.

  We weren’t anywhere near a major stage. There were five grass pitches, similar to the ones in Silverwind, that our block was assigned to. Our matches started quickly, so my thoughts didn’t dwell too long on the girl. Instead, my first opponent, on second look, seemed somewhat familiar, though I couldn’t place him. My memory was rekindled when the arbiter called his name, and he sent out a Mienfoo to face Junior.

  “The match between Calla Greyberry and Matthew Groggonhollow will now begin!” announced the arbiter. He was, if I remembered correctly, he was Darren’s opponent in Rondo, the fourth round, or something. He was a little disappointing. Not that he looked weak, or anything, but I couldn’t sense any change in Mienfoo since I’d last seen him. Regardless, it wouldn’t be good to let my guard down, and Mienfoo had been plenty capable back then, too.

  Junior had her fists buried in the ground, breathing heavily. Her anger, as was often the case, was palpable, and the steam coming out of her nostrils made her quite the intimidating specimen. Appearances were deceiving, in her case. I knew she was well in control of herself, and it would take something astounding for her to lose that self-control. That, or a long, drawn-out battle, which wasn’t possible in this format.

  Mienfoo came in with a Force Palm. She was as quick as I remembered, but Junior was no slouch either. She waited until the moment Mienfoo’s strike landed to lash out with a flaming fist that caught her opponent on her shoulder. Mienfoo was clearly worse off after the exchange, and Junior did not waste her stumble backwards, jumping on top of Mienfoo and raining down Fire Punches on her. The two-minute mark was far off when the arbiter called an end to the match.

  From there, Junior went on to rack up an impressive string of victories. It was a tendency I’d noticed with her, when she was on a winning streak, she tended to win more. It was so consistent that I’d had to double check Primeape didn’t have Moxie as an ability, but no, it was all momentum and morale for Junior, and when she was doing good, she was on fire. A Gloom fell to Fire Punch too, a Mismagius to Assurance, as did a Starmie, and a Scyther, once again, to Fire Punch. We were doing, to my surprise, far better than expected. Rather than getting tired, Junior was more and more pumped, and no matter what our opponents tried, she broke through by pure, brute force. Then we came up against the purple-haired girl. I’d kept an eye on her whenever I could. My instincts seemed to have been good, apart from me, she was the only one to have won all her matches so far. She’d mostly used a Porygon-Z in her matches, though she’d also used a Ditto, and, worryingly, a quadruped I didn’t recognise. I was proud of the knowledge I’d accumulated, and was sure I could name every commonly used Pokémon by now. To encounter one I had no idea about was frightening, and the fact that, from the reaction of the other competitors and even the arbiters, they weren’t familiar with it either, I could only assume it was unknown to the majority of people. When she faced me, however, she proved she had even more surprises.

  Junior was ready as always, and in no way daunted by the strange girl. She brought out a new Pokémon. To my embarrassment, it was another one I didn’t know.

  It was humanoid, to an extent, but seemed to be made out of metal, leading me to believe it was a steel-type. It had a roundish body and stubby legs and arms. Its head was framed by a gear, and its large eyes had a hint of red to them.

  It was always unnerving fighting an unknown Pokémon, but if my assumption was right and it was steel, I still thought Junior would have a decent chance.

  “Let the match between Calla Greyberry and Miss Zuzu begin,” called the arbiter.

  “Junior, Cross Chop!” I said, having her take the initiative. Junior tensed and sprang forwards, arms crossed in front of her.

  “Magearna,” said Zuzu. “Dazzling Gleam!”

  Magearna’s body glowed white, and with a build up that took far less than it felt, a bright light swept over the battlefield, drowning out even the sun. It wasn’t just like Flaaffy’s Flash, the light had some kind of almost tangible substance to it that seemed to distort even time. It was over quickly, but it felt like ages, and when it faded, Junior was out cold. I gathered her up in my arms and let Comfey check over her. She came to, soon enough, and she wasn’t even hurt. Nevertheless, I let Flaaffy take care of the last three matches.

  I passed round one, with eight out of nine wins. The one loss, though, had been so decisive, the day didn’t feel like a victory.