Liberty Chap 3- Wet Starlight

Route 110 baffled me. I must have underestimated how much the Hoennese love nature, because I soon realized that the whole route was a miniature jungle the instant I stepped on the Route. There was a large twisting bike road above the Route that I would have been grateful to use as shade or a faster route. I grew disappointed to find it was made of glass and provided nothing in the way of shade. The Route itself was a confusingly winding path across the river. The grass was oftentimes waist high, but occasionally it shot up and towered over me. In those spots I almost walked into the river, due to my lack of sight and the twists of the path. The grass was unbearably itchy across my face and I almost lost Grace a few times. Why couldn’t the Hoennese be more like Unova? At least in Unova there was a reliable way across the absurdly high grass.

I was maybe halfway through the Route and across the river when I got to a point where I could see New Mauville withering away. It served as a good base while we needed it and would undoubtedly serve to provide shelter for many displaced Pokemon for years to come. I glanced back at it and sighed, truly realizing that I would have to stand strong as a bastion of freedom. My allies couldn’t really help me in this, I had to keep my cover. Grace snapped me out of my thoughts by hopping out of my arms and walking out of the tall grass I hadn’t realized I was in. I hurried after her, determined not to lose use again. Grace settled down in the sunlight and started to absorb light again. I sighed at this, “I wonder Grace,” Grace looked over towards me, “Why is it that you love to bask in the sunlight so much. I understand you’re a grass type and you enjoy sunlight, but all you seem to do is sleep.” Grace let out what I assumed was an indignant huff. “I guess if it doesn’t hurt anything, then its fine. So, what was that attack you did on that Skitty? It seemed pretty useful in that fight. You could get stronger if you learned to move around in a fight. You can’t just take every attack that comes your way.” Grace let out another chirp, which I couldn’t understand the feeling behind it. I had never been able to get more than the briefest flash of an idea of what my Pokémon were saying. They made translator collars now, but those were far too expensive. Besides, Pokemon shouldn’t have collars. They’re free spirits, not slaves. The only other option would be to obtain a psychic, but they likely would object to me using them exclusively for translation. A quick glance at my watch told me it was about three in the afternoon. Lunchtime had already came and went without us. “ Better late than never,” I muttered as I pulled out some crackers to munch on.  Suddenly Grace shot up and quickly waddled towards my bag. She scampered away with both of my bags of trail mix. I sighed and let her have them. If I tried to take it back I might end up with my face in the middle of a pollen explosion. I really don’t want to relive that experience. Grace started humming some tune while eating my trail mix. I noticed she enjoyed the dried fruits and nuts especially. Apparently grass Pokémon had a somewhat cannibalistic side I never knew about. Then again, I had never really associated with many grass types. Before now, I thought they mainly survived off of sunlight. Grass types weren’t that common back in Castellia City.

Eventually I picked Grace up and tidied up the area where we were. I had taken to carrying Grace places rather than using a Pokeball all the time. Grace was a living being, not some plaything for humanity. She shouldn’t be confined to a Pokeball. She could leave if she wanted, who were we to say she couldn’t. The rest of Route 110 passed quickly enough, with me chatting on to Grace about Plasma and how things were in Unova. I think I truly started to feel jealousy towards my King then. I had to try to understand vague chirps, but N could simply understand Pokémon like it was his native language. Maybe it was.

It was around 5:00 when I finally entered the transition to Route 103. The tall grass finally started to shorten to a more manageable height and a few more trees could be seen. Up ahead the trees started to become denser and a forest could be seen in the distance. Maybe if I hurried I could be across Route 103 before nightfall. It wasn’t that big of a route. I trudged along the Route, ignoring the darkening sky. The path was darkened now, all visible light was filtered by the tree cover. As a result I didn’t realize that the path was ending abruptly. I could hear the water ahead, but naively assumed it was on my side or that a bridge was in front of me. Oh how I was wrong. I took a few steps forward and noticed the mud on the river bank slowing me down. I took another step, before pausing and trying to examine the stars. Boufalant, although I think everyone not in Unova calls it Tauros, was out in the sky tonight. I took another step to try to get a better view. And another step. This one never hit mud like I expected and sailed down into surprisingly deep water. The rest of my body followed my leg. I screamed as I fell into the surprisingly cold water. The current rapidly pushed me around the river as I struggled and slapped the water in panic. I heard a frightened chirp and remembered Grace was in my arms. I fought against the current and threw Grace to the nearest bank. She splashed next to the bank and started to climb onto the shore. I sighed in relief before panting and struggling to get towards Grace on the shore. The current rapidly circled around on me and wrapped around me like a vice. It dragged me under like a malicious force. My eyes hurt as I strained to see in the turbulent river. My lungs burned from the lack of oxygen in my lungs. They were begging me to give in, to open my mouth and take a breath. A lumbering shadow danced in the edge of my vision. My eyes blurred but I knew what was happening despite my lungs. I was going to die as a meal to some Feraligatr or Crawdaunt. Two clawed hands plunged down next to me. The shadow was upon me! I redoubled my panicked kicks, trying to fend myself off from my attacker. My lungs ached from the energy. My feet bounced uselessly off the claws and my legs burned. My whole body ached from the effort. The clawed hands grabbed me and yanked me out of the water. I gasped deep, crisp, beautiful lungfuls of air. My head was spinning, but I could just make out the face of my soon to be murderer. It was hunched over slightly and had two large plate-covered arms which ended in long vicious claws. Its chest looked weaker and was an off purple color. Smaller arms were sticking out near its chest. Its whole body was covered in a natural plated teal armor. I felt my eyes grow abnormally heavy as I coughed in my so to be murderer’s arms. I let them close.

The afterlife was a strange place. It wasn’t a land of utter beauty with Arecus sitting on a throne somewhere, that was for certain. Instead everything was a blur of color. I started to notice it was exceptionally cold in the afterlife. Cold and alone. I couldn’t see anyone else in the black and green void I had ended up in. I tried to turn my head, but couldn’t find the strength to. It felt like something was pinning me down and certainly didn’t want me to move. I soon noticed it wasn’t just my head; none of my limbs would move either. I was trapped. I struggled to think of how I died but I couldn’t find the specific event. I remembered that I had fallen into a river with Grace and some hulking behemoth grabbed me. Everything after that was a complete blank, no matter how hard I tried to remember it. I had been murdered by a behemoth I didn’t even recognize. And what about Grace? That thought suddenly spiraled all my thoughts downward and out of my mind. Grace had made it to shore, right? She vanished after climbing into the bank. What if the behemoth had gotten her before me? What if she got stuck in the mud and killed by an Ekans? What if she walked into an Ariados web? What if a psychic was toying with her for its own amusement? That last thought made me shudder. It wasn’t unreasonable to think that it was possible, psychics were occasionally cruel creatures. I felt pressure build up in my throat and started to violently cough and spit out water. The weight pressing down my limbs started to lessen and the void around me started to shift. The blackness around me was lit up with the occasional twinkle of light. I heard footsteps and tried to strain my ears to find the source of the sound. A pair of boots and a shadowed figure were standing on the edge of my vision. A loud buzzing sound came from somewhere beyond me, giving me the faintest tinges of a headache. My vision started to clear and I could make out more of the figure standing over me. I saw a vaguely familiar face framed by deep green hair staring down at me with an expression of equal relief and worry. I started to choke slightly and spluttered more water out of my mouth. Whatshisname started to move his mouth like he was speaking, but no sound reached my ears. I strained my ears to hear what he said, ignoring my now growing headache.

“-glad I came when I did. A few more minutes and you would have been dead."