– Chapter 8 –
Viridian Forest
Layton hadn’t been kidding. The only other Trainers Roy found making his way through Viridian Forest had all been Bug-type specialists. (Though “specialist” was a generous term.) Every one of them had been a pushover. And with Roy’s newly acquired Fire-type Pokémon, victory had come that much easier. Roy defeated every Trainer he encountered, even placing wagers on a few and earning himself some money.
Thick trees blocked out most of the light from above, keeping Viridian Forest shrouded in darkness. Kakuna and Metapod hung from the branches. The forest was a natural maze and easy to get lost in if one strayed from the path–which was little more than a trail beaten down by the footprints of previous travelers. Even with the trail, crossing Viridian Forest on foot was no afternoon walk. He’d taken a week just to get to the forest, and had hiked for another week on top of that through it. He had to be close to the other side by now.
Caterpie and Weedle infested the tall, thick grass. Roy caught one of the Weedle; a simple task. Weedle wasn’t particularly powerful, but any Pokémon could be strong with hard work–that was Roy’s job as a Trainer. And when Weedle gained enough experience, it would evolve into a Kakuna, and then a Beedrill. Once it reached that final stage, he’d have a fierce competitor.
Something rustled in the bushes and Roy went still. He darted his eyes toward the noise. Most likely it had been another Weedle or a Caterpie, but it was worth checking out. Who knew. It could be something rare. He hadn’t caught a Caterpie after all, so even that would be worth his time.
Roy approached the rustling bushes on quiet steps. He got close enough to make out a scratchy whispering unlike any Pokémon he’d seen yet.
Roy peered over the bushes. An orange creature the size of a large dinner plate crawled along the tree base. A cicada with six legs–the two frontal ones much larger than the rear four, with a single claw at the end of each. Eyes sat on its small head like a pair of large white marbles with big black pupils. Two red tochukaso mushrooms with yellow spots grew on its back. “Paras. Paras,” it whispered.
Today was Roy’s lucky day. Not the rarest local of Viridian Forest, but worth the stop. Less common than all the Weedle and Caterpie, that was for sure.
Roy observed the Paras as it fed off the tree roots bulging from the ground. It dug at the roots, kicking up dirt, and Roy was unfortunately close enough for some of it to get in his face. He gave himself away with a sharp sneeze.
The startled Paras spun around. From the way it crouched and pointed its mushrooms at him, Roy guessed it wasn’t a fan of Peekaboo. Oh, shit. He moved away, but not quick enough. White powder exploded like a bag of flour from the mushrooms. Roy gasped, inhaling the spores. He stumbled backward and tripped over a stump as the Paras scurried off. Roy landed on a painful rock protruding from the dirt. “Aargh!”
He struggled to his feet and fled in the opposite direction of the spores. The path. Just get back to the path. He took a bad step on a slope he didn’t notice before and stumbled down the steep hill. Sticks and branches clawed at his body as he logrolled until the terrain leveled out and he slowed to stop on his back.
Pain attacked him as he got up. He limped through his aches, head twisting left and right. The path. Find the path. But his vision blurred, and drowsiness weighed on his eyelids. No, not drowsiness. Exhaustion. The fatigue grew until his legs gave out and Roy‘s knees hit the dirt. Maybe he should rest for a bit. Just to get his strength back. Roy fell on his side, the soft soil and thick foliage cozy as a Mareep’s wool. Yes. He should rest. Just… for… a little…
His eyelids got heavier until he couldn’t hold them open any longer, and sleep took him.
***
Roy awoke to the distant buzz of Beedrill and the dark cluster of trees looming over him. His body throbbed. His clothes clung to him with sticky sweat. What time was it? The lack of sunlight in the forest made it hard to tell night from day. How long had he been out?
He pushed himself to a sitting position and looked around. Mist thickened the forest air like soup, limiting his vision to five meters. He almost fell over getting up, still lethargic from that Spore attack. But he couldn’t stop. He needed to get back to the path.
Roy wandered for at least an hour but found no sign of the trial. It had to be here somewhere. He hadn’t strayed that far, had he?
Another hour of fruitless searching forced him to conclude he had no idea where he was. Roy picked up the pace, heartbeat increasing, and broke out in a cold sweat. Hours passed.
Roy passed a tree stump with two horn-like branches growing out the side that made it almost resemble a Phantump head. Hadn’t Roy seen that stump already? He told himself he was just being paranoid, though his panic rose. Roy held his dizzy head. “Okay, okay. Calm down,” he whispered to himself and rested on the stump to give himself time to think out a plan.
But no ideas could form through the sudden realization of thirst and hunger monopolizing his thoughts. Pack set between his legs, he pulled out the extra bottled water he’d brought. Less than two-thirds remained. He fought the urge to chug the entire thing, wanting to conserve as much as he could, so long as he was unsure of how long he’d be in this forest. He wouldn’t die of thirst. Not with Squirtle by his side. But drinking a Pokémon’s vomited up water wasn’t the tastiest option, so he’d prefer not to.
Food was a different matter. Viridian Forest was huge; not a place you wanted to get lost in. Roy nibbled on an energy bar, thinking about how he could get out of here. Other Trainers came through this forest all the time. He could wait for someone to pass by and help. But who knew how long that would take. And without knowing how far off the trail he was, nothing promised anyone would come at all. The canopy of trees blocked out the sun to deny him any telling of east from west.
He tried climbed one of the tall trees to get a better bearing on his surroundings, but Roy’s scrawny body had the climbing skills of a Skrelp at the best of times, and his aching body dragged him back down for another dose of hurt.
What about Weedle? Roy had caught him in this forest. He probably knew these woods enough to guide him out.
Grabbing Weedle’s Poké Ball off his belt, Roy released the Pokémon. Weedle’s body was larval and a light yellowish brown. Even with the five-centimeter stinger atop his head, that small body only reached a ruler's length in height. He stared at Roy with tiny black eyes and a much larger nose, round and pink like a clown’s. Roy knew not to touch either of the toxic stingers on his head or the end of his tail.
“Weedle. Do you think you can lead me out of here?” The caterpillar only stared. “Out of the forest,” Roy clarified. The bug tilted his head to the side, looking confused. “You… do get what I’m saying, right?”
It was a rhetorical question. Roy knew Pokémon understood humans, even if humans couldn’t understand them. How much Pokémon understood remained a hotly debated topic (with unevolved species such as Weedle appearing to know the least) but scientific studies had proven time and time again that all Pokémon held at least some fluency of human communication. Different languages made no difference.
“The trail, maybe?”
The Weedle stared.
“Civilization? Home?”
Weedle perked up at this.
“Yes. Home. Take me home.”
Weedle nodded and slunk off at a… well, at a Weedle’s pace. Roy threw his pack on his shoulders and followed, hoping Weedle led him in the right direction. Following Roy’s vague directions, he could end up taking him to Pewter, or back to Viridian. Pewter City was preferable, but in the worst case that Weedle took him to Viridian, Roy could just get on the path again and head to Pewter himself. And this time he’d be sure to stay on the trail.
Roy took a step, waited for Weedle to get ahead, then took another step.
Step.
Wait.
Step.
Wait.
Step.
Wait.
He followed Weedle for at least two hours, but he swore the woods only got denser. “Are you sure this is the right way?”
“Weedle,” he responded, sounding confident despite his quiet, nasally voice–like someone with a clothespin on their nose.
They came to a dense thicket of trees clustered so close together Roy couldn’t see through them. Tall bushes surrounded the wall of trees.
“Weedle,” the caterpillar said, coming to a stop like he’d reached his destination. This wasn’t home. Roy looked up at the big tree cluster shaped like a large dome. Weedle slithered forward, through the bushes and into the copse. Unsure, Roy followed. He pushed the branches aside as best he could, squeezing through the tight fit. It almost felt as if the trees had molded together specifically to keep him out. He pushed through the branches, adding several more scratches to his bare arms and face, along with several annoying smears of gooey sap.
Roy came out on the other side, and his ears rang with the deafening sound of buzzing. Roy’s legs turned to jelly, and he almost fell over. His entire body trembled. The dome of trees was clear on the inside, with only a couple of trees standing in the center. But the hollow was far from empty. A hive of Kakuna hung from the two trees. Thousands of Weedle covered the ground, and Beedrill swarmed throughout the den. Roy had stumbled into a Beedrill colony.
“Weedle!” Roy’s Pokémon declared, and he could guess at what the bug had said: “Home!”
“Oh, fuck,” Roy stuttered.
Roy froze before the giant red-eyed wasps with stingers big as kitchen knives. A pair of poison needles tipped their forearms, but they looked more like lances. Dozens of the Beedrill turned hostile eyes on Roy. He’d intruded on their colony. And Roy knew too well from his studies how aggressively territorial they were.
“Damn it, Weedle!” Roy said, half angry, half panicked.
“Weedle?” he said, looking confused again.
Roy recalled the bug and bolted for the exit as fast as he could. He shoved through the thick foliage of painful branches and heard the Beedrill stingers stab into bushes behind him, coming an inch within his back. Roy’s heart skipped a beat. The slightest scratch could be fatal. Forget the poison. The stingers alone were as large as any sword.
Roy fell out the other side of the nest and sprinted. A few seconds later, Beedrill flew out in pursuit. He’d never outrun them. Trying would be suicide. Roy grabbed Ponyta’s Poké Ball and threw it behind him, releasing the Fire-type Pokémon. His best chance against the hoard of bugs.
“Fire Spin!”
Ponyta materialized in front of him, standing between him and the Beedrill. She shot a flame at the ground. It exploded upward in a spiraling twister of blue flames, casting a bright light upon the forest, akin to the blue glow of moonlight. The surrounding trees caught fire. “Shit!” That was stupid! Why didn’t he think of that!?
He released Squirtle. “Douse the flames!”
Squirtle sprayed a Water Gun up at the trees. Smoke plumed where the water made contact with the fire.
Meanwhile, Ponyta’s Fire Spin dissipated. Beedrill fled in the opposite direction or fell to the grassy floor, incapacitated and burned. However, a couple of the aggressive ones had flown around the cyclone and now focused their attacks on Ponyta. They made several quick lunges, but the foal expertly side stepped every one.
Ponyta leapt backward, then charged. She sprang into the air and rammed her head into one of the enemy wasps. The Beedrill crumpled to the ground. Before it could get back up, Ponyta stomped on its thorax. The Beedrill squirmed beneath Ponyta’s hoof, but she held it pinned. Ponyta turned to the other Beedrill and shot an Ember. The attack knocked down the Beedrill, but it regained itself in the air before hitting the ground.
Anger flaring in its eyes, the Beedrill let out an extra loud buzz that echoed throughout the woods. Ponyta and Squirtle cringed at the noise. Roy covered his ears and his heart sank. He’d done some studying of Pokémon cries. Beedrill was calling for help.
While Ponyta was distracted, the Beedrill below jabbed her in the stomach with one of its fore stingers. With a cry of pain, she reared back. The pinned Beedrill flew out from under her. Ponyta stumbled around, looking about to fall over. Blood dripped from her stomach, staining the grass. Then she collapsed.
“Ponyta!” Roy ran to her side. The wound wasn’t deep, but it didn’t need to be. Beedrill poison would kill untreated. He needed to get her to a Pokémon Center immediately.
The two Beedrill dove at Roy and Ponyta, stingers raised.
“Squirtle!” The Water Pokémon had just put out the last of the flames. He withdrew into his shell and shot out, knocking into one Beedrill and bouncing off it into the next, sending them both flying away. Squirtle emerged and landed to stand in front of Roy. Ponyta hyperventilated, and the area around her wound turned a sickly dark purple. Roy returned Ponyta to her Poké Ball, where she’d be safer.
The distant buzzing grew louder. More Beedrill were on their way. “Squirtle! Time to go!”
They ran. The two Beedrill pursued. Squirtle stayed close to Roy, taking occasional Water Gun shots behind to keep the Beedrill at bay. Roy ran as fast as he could, and the chilling buzzes only grew louder. He guessed the entire swarm was right on their tail, but didn’t dare look back.
Vines and branches whipped at his face. He nearly tripped over a couple of fallen trees and upturned roots, but he couldn’t slow down. To do so would mean death.
Roy was getting winded, and a stitch stabbed at his side. He clutched his ribs but kept running, head down. The grass blurred green as it passed beneath him.
Roy glanced up for a second and was glad he did. He was running straight for a cliff. Roy dug his heels into the dirt, nearly tripping over himself as he skidded to a halt. He waved his arms wildly, regaining his balance to keep himself from going over the edge.
Squirtle did not slow down and ran right off the cliff. “Squirtle!” Roy cried out. The turtle plunged into the river below. He resurfaced and called up to Roy, gesturing him to follow. Thirty meters must’ve separated him from the water. Could he survive a fall that far?
In his hesitation, the buzzing Beedrill drew near. A swarm of several dozen behind. The lead Beedrill lunged with its spear-like stinger. Roy leaned back, and the attack passed over him, but he lost his balance in doing so. Roy stepped backward to regain his footing, but his foot fell through the air and Roy dropped off the cliff. Wind roared in his ears as he plummeted toward the river. He tried to straighten himself and shut his eyes, bracing for impact.
A warmth came over his body. Roy opened his eyes. A pink glow surrounded him. He slowed in the air–almost to a stop–before hitting the surface feet first. Water consumed him, and his feet brushed the rocky river bottom. The orange blur of a school of Magikarp swam past. Roy ascended through the current and resurfaced. He gasped for air and looked left and right. “Squirtle!” he called. The Pokémon responded, and Roy followed the sound. Squirtle swam up to him and Roy grabbed hold of his shell for support.
Roy looked up at the Beedrill diving toward the river, not giving up their pursuit.
“Oh, will you fuck off already!”
Squirtle swam with the current, and Roy struggled to maintain his grip on the shell’s slick surface, making regular readjustments of his hands to keep from slipping.
A riverbank came into view and Roy pointed. “There!”
They climbed onto the muddy shore and only took a few seconds to catch their breath before running on. They made it about fifty meters when Roy notably started to tire. He looked over his shoulder at the Beedrill hoard. They weren’t going to make it.
“This way!” a rough voice called out from a log cabin to Roy’s left. A boy held the door open. “Hurry!” Not needing to be told again, Roy and Squirtle turned toward the cabin.
Roy sprinted with his last bit of energy and dove onto the hard wooden floor, Squirtle entering beside him. The boy slammed the door and locked it with a click. A couple of loud thumps of Beedrill crashed into the walls.
Roy rolled onto his back and caught his breath. Squirtle lay beside him, equally winded. “Good job, Squirtle.”
He sat up with great effort. The Beedrill’s angry buzzes droned outside. One landed on a window and crawled around. The giant wasp seemed to be contemplating how to get in. It tapped the window with its needle arm then gave it a strong jab, but the glass held.
“They’re not getting in,” the boy said. “These windows are reinforced. And the whole cabin is well-sprayed with repellent.”
No sooner had he said it did the Beedrill on the window shake its head and crinkle its face, as if at an awful odor. The Bug Pokémon peeled off the window and flew away. The buzzing quieted as the others left, and silence followed.
Roy finally got a good look at the boy who’d saved their lives. Not a boy at all, but a man. Probably in his mid-forties. He was just short. Barely a meter and a half. Stature aside, he had a stocky figure. Well built, like a military man, and not someone Roy would pick a fight with regardless of height. His arms looked thicker than Roy’s legs. He wore baggy khakis with several pockets running up the sides and a white tank top. His hair was a buzz cut, and he had a strong square jaw and thick, bushy eyebrows. He faced Roy with a stern expression.
“What are you doing coming through this forest?” the man demanded in the voice of an angry drill sergeant. “Don’t you know the Beedrill have been abnormally aggressive recently?” He had a bit of a Kantonian accent. Unovan was probably his second language.
I’m fine, thanks for asking, Roy might’ve said to a less intimidating man. “I… I didn’t know,” he whimpered instead.
“Didn’t know,” the man said with an incredulous scoff. “So, you thought you’d stroll through the most Beedrill infested forest in the world without any planning? What kind of novice Trainers are they pumping out these days?”
Roy shot to his feet. “What about you? You’re here.”
The man clomped across the floor in his hiking boots and jabbed a meaty finger in Roy’s chest. “I live here, boy. I’ve lived here for years. I more than have the necessary experience.” The man scanned Roy up and down. “Unlike a scrawny little toothpick such as yourself.”
Roy wanted to retort, but stopped himself, remembering Ponyta. What was he doing arguing? He needed to get her to a Pokémon Center.
“Look, sir,” Roy said.
“It’s Sakuji.”
“Sakuji. Thanks for saving our lives, but I have to go.”
“You’re going nowhere until those Beedrill clear off and your Squirtle recovers.”
Squirtle still lay winded on the floor. Scratches covered his shell. Bruises darkened his body. He even suffered a few burns that must’ve come from putting out the flames Roy himself started. A pang of guilt stabbed Roy for pushing Squirtle so hard, but he needed to focus on healing Ponyta.
“Please. I have to get my Ponyta to the nearest Pokémon Center. She was poisoned while we were trying to escape.”
Sakuji was silent for a moment. “Send it out.”
Roy recalled Squirtle, then released Ponyta, who materialized lying down on the floor. She struggled to breathe, and the dark purple spot surrounding the bleeding wound had expanded.
Sakuji knelt and inspected it for all of five seconds. “Ah, shit.” He rushed to a tall cupboard against the wall, threw the doors open, and Roy saw dozens of vials of various liquids Roy hoped were antidotes. Sakuji mixed several of the vials. He moved at a hurried pace, but worked with a calm confidence that suggested to Roy Ponyta would be fine.
Roy sat back on the floor, legs crossed beneath him, relaxing a bit, but still plenty anxious at the clear pain on Ponyta’s semiconscious face.
Waiting for Sakuji to finish, Roy looked around the cabin. It was only one room with the bed in one corner and the kitchen in the other. A table with one chair sat in the middle of a circular rug.
“You said the Beedrill have been aggressive lately. Why?”
“Can’t say. But I think it has to do with that strange Pokémon that came through a week ago.”
“What strange Pokémon?”
“Not one I recognized. Only caught a glimpse. But it seemed to agitate the others. A lot of Pokémon–especially the ones around here–give off odd pheromones. Might have something to do with that.”
“What did it look like?”
Sakuji shrugged. “Humanoid? Pale? Hard to say. It was gone as quick as it came.” He poured several components into a jar and stirred them together with slow, shaking hands. Sweat trickled down the side of his head. “I’ve seen a lotta shit in my day, but never anything that gave off such an aura of savagery.”
He finished mixing the jar and drew some of the concoction into a syringe. He came back and knelt beside Ponyta. Sakuji held her still with one firm hand, then stuck the needle in a vein near the wound. Ponyta gave a weak whinny as he injected the antidote.
Sakuji pulled the needle out and got up to dispose of it. Within seconds, Ponyta’s breathing improved and her skin lightened around the wound.
“That should eliminate the poison soon,” Sakuji said. “It just needs to rest for the night.”
Roy’s nerves relaxed. Sakuji finished putting away the tools he’d gotten out, then turned back to Roy and Ponyta. He leaned against the table and kept his eyes on the mare, noting her blue mane and tail.
“That’s the Shiny Ponyta from the Viridian outskirts, isn’t it?”
Roy nodded.
“So someone finally caught it, eh? I’d heard it made a mockery of some rather skilled Trainers. Maybe you do have some talent.”
Roy wasn’t sure whether to feel complimented or insulted, so instead ignored the comment. He kept his attention on Ponyta, gently stroking her neck to comfort her. He knew from research that Ponyta flames wouldn’t burn people they trusted, but the unnatural act of running his hand through her fire still made him nervous. Her mane was warm and comforting, but didn’t burn.
“Still,” Sakuji continued. “You were foolish to enter these woods unprepared. Even those pathetic Trainers that call themselves bug catchers know not to stray from the trail. What was so important that you thought to come to these deep parts of the woods?”
“Look, I was attacked by a Paras and got lost, all right.”
“No shit. I can smell the Spore on you.”
“It’s not like I intended to come in here and aggravate a Beedrill colony. I’m just looking to get to Pewter City.”
“Hmph. Guess I have to hold your hand out of this forest. We leave first thing in the morning. Get some rest.”
Roy groaned in frustration, but did as he was told, caught between anger and gratitude. He laid out his sleeping bag next to Ponyta, lying on top of it rather than inside so he could stay close to her throughout the night.
To be continued...