Thread: Seasons; Book 1: Autumn (Chapter 4)

Right, for those older members of the workshop, you will recognise this fic and myself. Indeed, i am rebooting Seasons! You will see similarities, changes, new directions and differing roles of characters, but at the heart it is the same, a Seasons 2.0 if you will.
Although i stated that i wouldn't post until friday, work is going well, and i have the barebones plot for the first book more or less closed down, with it just needing fleshing out a bit.


Note: This prologue is more or less the same as what it was before, as not much needed to be changed. I filled out the writing a bit and fixed some mistakes.

Note Note: If you did happen to read the original Seasons then i request you don't post spoilers or the like of what happened in the chapters after this and subsequently of chapters as they were posted. This includes characters and plot points, as there may be new users who haven't read it.


Thank you, and enjoy!

Some Colour No Doubt





Seasons


Contents:

Chapter 1: The Champion
Chapter 2: How did we get here?
Chapter 3: The Challenger Arrives
Chapter 4: Long Live the Champion


Prologue

Thud.

A concussive impact shook the stadium, every row, down to the spectators very teeth. Yet this just urged them on more, making them cheer louder, coming on in waves as the excitement spread throughout the crowd. In the arena, the two pokémon battled on, dealing heavy blows.

A frown crossed the young trainer's face, distorting his features. All of his training, the years of travelling from region to region, it had all led to this moment, this match, this final. A sense of exhilaration filled him. The stakes had never been higher.

“Sandslash!” the Trainer called out, somehow audible over the monstrous crowd. “Use Dig!”

Instantly, the diminutive Ground-type leapt into the air, showing its muscled, mousey physique and lethal, gleaming claws. It plummeted to the earth, claws first, and disappeared in a pillar of dust as it impacted, disappearing from the view of the spectators and trainers. A hushed tone filled the arena, eyes darting around, searching for the missing pokémon.

A column of flame ripped through the dust cloud, forcing the trainer to shield his eyes. The dust was simply blasted out of the way by the intensity of the heat. Following up its attack, a raging Houndoom appeared, snarling angrily. Its barbed black tail whipped back and forth in frustration, its eyes darting around manically, looking for its prey. Growling ferociously, the pokémon's horned head swung wildly from side to side, searching for traces of its opponent. Unable to see where its foe had gone, the Houndoom let out a blood curdling roar of frustration. Across it's dark body, blood lined gouges criss-crossed around, all aftermaths of Sandslash's attacks, each one fatiguing and weakening the pokémon.

The Trainer simply smiled. Typical Houndoom, all bark, no bite. Sandslash had suffered little damage from the last attacks, whereas Houndoom was beginning to show signs of weariness. This wouldn't take much longer, not with what he had in mind.

Still, the Trainer needed to know more, and he knew what he had to do. He softly closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing down to a crawl, entering a trance-like state. Though his eyes were closed, he could still “see”, more clearly than he could with his eyes open. Two swirls of energy were presented to him, one just below the other. One was a mixture of reds and oranges, two hues locked in an eternal, violent dance, flying around rapidly and randomly it pulsated wildly like a forest fire, striking out randomly and dangerously. The deep red swirled ferociously, showing the rage that had overtaken the Pokémon to which it belonged. The other, just below the red one, was a light tan, spinning calmly, pulsating slightly, showing the training which kept the pokémon in check, away from their more brutal, animalistic tendencies.

He locked onto the calmer aura and felt his Sandslash in the centre of it, waiting for the order from its trainer. In this state, not only could he feel Sandslash, its emotions, its wounds, its location. For that moment, he was Sandslash. This gift was unique to his family, or so his grandfather had told him. Through years of training and honing his gift, the trainer could link with his pokémon, making them stronger, faster and more lethal than any other pokémon on the planet. In this state his pokémon could hit far above their evolutionary level, leaving the pokémon of other trainers, even the Champion's against whom he faced, with little chance.

Slowly, through the mental link, he pushed his thought into Sandslash, relaying silent orders. He opened his eyes, steadying himself. Whilst entering this state was undeniably useful, it was exhausting. In his younger days, he had passed out many a time from exposing himself to the energies for too long. He was forced to take deep breaths as he tried to steady himself, battling a sudden wave of fatigue. Looking back to the battlefield, Houndoom was now beginning to lose control, unsettled by the lack of appearance of its opponent. Fire blasts ripped indiscriminately around the arena, glassing over the sandy surface, raising the temperature in the stadium through the sheer power of its attacks. The Houndoom was clearly powerful, but the trainer knew that after this attack, it wouldn't matter.

“Sandslash! Now!”

An explosion erupted underneath Houndoom, throwing it and a large amount of gravel across the arena. Sandslash appeared, leaping into the air with a grace reserved for trained dancers, not ground-types. Houndoom jumped back to its feet, and bellowed out a challenge to the still airborne Sandslash. Hitting the ground rolling, Sandslash headed straight for Houndoom, skating across the arena, gathering momentum to power its own attacks.

Fire attacks bounced uselessly off the rolling pokémon, its thick hide impervious to the incoming flames, forcing Houndoom to back up. Again, Sandslash disappeared underground. This time however, it did not linger. Seconds later, it burrowed up from underneath Houndoom, landing two quick, heavy blows to the fire type's hind legs.

Houndoom roared out in pain, its back legs collapsing as the torn tendons refused to hold up its weight, the gouges left by Sandslash's claws cutting through flesh and muscle, crippling the powerful pokémon. Sandslash remained motionless, it's large, once gleaming sliver claws now stained crimson from the effectiveness of its attack. Droplets of blood fell like raindrops, leaving spots near each pokémon's feet, dyeing the sandy arena floor.

The crowd roared at the strategy. In one beautifully executed move, the young challenger had taken out one of the Champions most renowned battlers. Sandslash retook a ready stance, its large claws raised up threateningly, prepared to pounce onto the damaged Houndoom if necessary. The Houndoom released cries of pain as its own body became its enemy, the damage inflicted leaving its limbs unresponsive. Desperately, the pokémon tried to drag itself using only its forelegs, though they eventually gave out as well, leaving the once proud pokémon little more than a bloodstained heap, twitching on the arena floor.

Regret filled the challenger, perhaps he had been a bit too aggressive? Whilst the healing machines of the league could bring the Houndoom back to fighting fitness within a few days, it was still regrettable that it would have to suffer through the pain. The anguish suffered by the pokémon ascended through normal sense's and began to overwhelm the challenger's mental defences. The other downside of his “gift”. In these moments of powerful emotion or trauma, he picked up traces, punching into his mind like needles into jelly. Clenching his teeth, he raised mental barriers as he had learnt to long ago, waiting for the Houndoom to be declared unable to battle, which did thankfully not take too long.

The crowd roared even louder, Five pokémon down, one to go. This annoyed the challenging trainer, did these people like seeing pokémon injured in this way? It gave him no joy to have caused such damage, even though he knew Houndoom would be fine. Still, what could he expect? Pokémon battles at this level often ended in quite serious injuries due to the sheer power of the pokémon involved and the years of training they had received. In truth, it was why these battles were so popular, as the danger of serious injury, occasionally even death, raised the stakes to levels which drove people crazy with passion for the sport. Still, if the crowd had wanted violence they had got what they had come for. Surveying the once pristine arena, it barely resembled the clean cut image that was presented on the posters for the tournament. Craters pockmarked the battlefield, splintering cracks tracing around impact points of powerful attacks. The walls were charred and blacked from missed strikes. This was high level pokémon battling at its best, and the challenger, despite his misgivings about injured pokémon, loved it.

The Trainer calmed himself, attempting to detach himself from his emotions. They would only get in the way and right now he needed to focus. Sandslash rolled over to him and he hugged his small pokémon, proud that his companion was victorious and relatively unharmed.

“Good job buddy”

Sandslash nuzzled close to his chest, its rough skin being felt through his shirt, scraping his skin, but he did not mind. At that moment, there was no arena, no battle, no crowd, no final. There was simply the trainer and his pokémon in the purest of partnerships. At that moment, the challenger knew. He could win, his bond with his pokémon was unbreakable, undefeatable and unfathomable to other trainers. It was time to end this battle.

His eyes darted up, looking at the Champion. As he has been the whole match, he wore a thick black cape, shrouding himself in darkness and mystery. If the course of the battle had affected him, he showed no sign of it. He stood as he always had, wooden and upright, unmoving and unflinching, even when his pokémon had been brutally removed from the combat by the challenger's attacks. Wordlessly, the Champion recalled the now incapacitated Houndoom and without a pause, summoned his final pokémon.

A bright light appeared, forming into a smooth, sinuous shape. A large sea serpent appeared, coloured light cream. The crowd collectively gasped at the beauty of the new appearance, yet the challenger remained silent.

A Milotic. This pokémon needed little introductions, as through his preparations the challenger had seen the clips and replays of this pokémon's strength. Many a challenger had reached this point, with victory seemingly in grasp, only to have it smashed from their reach as the seemingly graceful water-type removed all opponents with a brute force which seemed unfitting to its beautiful frame.

Reaching to his waist, he swiftly recalled Sandslash to its pokéball with a solitary red beam of light, and then began to think of his options. All six of the trainers pokémon were ready, but there was one he had been saving, one who would end this match in a heartbeat. Looking up at the beautiful Milotic, he almost felt sorry for it. This was his most powerful pokémon, and few in the world could hope to stand up to it. Expanding the pokéball, he closed his eyes, knowing he was but seconds away from becoming grand champion.

With a flash of light, and whoosh of sound, the pokémon appeared.

The crowd looked on, waiting to see what pokémon the so-far flawless challenger had brought out to face the champion's mighty Milotic. If they were expecting a giant of a pokémon, they were going to be disappointed.

The pokémon appeared, it's fur pure white, with a large black scythe on its head. The crowd remained silent, for once. Evidently, they had expected something a bit more... dramatic, not an Absol. This did not concern the Trainer though, he knew what could be done with this, his most lethal pokémon. Absol had been with him since the beginning, it was only fitting that he would be here now, at the end.

The two pokémon stood, motionless, eyeing each other up, like they were in some old Western movie, waiting to see who would strike first. Over the speakers, the announcer told the crowd the names and types of both pokémon on the field.

Milotic broke first, screaming out a high pitched roar; it began snaking toward Absol, moving quickly as to avoid possible counter-attacks. Absol remained still, calmly waiting for a command.

The Trainer barked out his order: “Absol, now! Use Night Slash!”

At the last second, Absol leapt out of the way of the flailing Milotic, leaving the water type to smash its tail into the ground, further cracking the ruined arena floor. Absol came pounding in, its claws glowing with a deep purple. Quickly, it landed three quick gouges in Milotic's smooth frame, causing the pokémon to cry out in pain. Luckily, Milotic's thick skin had protected it from the main severity of the attack, but the damage still landed, deep welts left by Absol's sharp claws. As rapidly as the attacks had landed, Absol had leapt back out of range, once again motionless.

Milotic raised itself up to its full height and drew it's head back in clear preparation for a water attack. The trainer remained calm, not at all worried, knowing exactly how to handle it. Victory was near, he could feel it. The Champion was not on his game, his moves were predictable and obvious, easily exploited and counter-able.

Milotic released its attack, sending a torrent of sapphire water racing towards the much smaller Absol, and the Trainer gave out his order.

“Absol, Psycho Cut! Right through that Hydro Pump!”

Pulling its head back, Absol's black scythe released a light purple blast with a flick of its neck. The attack was so powerful that it split the oncoming Hydro Pump in two, dividing it like the seas as the clearly much more powerful attack hurtled toward the shocked Milotic. The Psycho cut raced down the field, gouged out sand, dirt and rock as it blasted towards its target. The intensity of the purple light grew as it approached it closer to Milotic, growing so bright it was painful to look at, bathing the arena in a sheen reserved typically only for sunlight.

The water flew harmlessly past either side of Absol, yet Milotic was not so lucky. The challenger's pokémon's attack had caused devastating damage to it, as it had landed head on. A sickening crunch echoed through the arena and Milotics cry was at a pitch which could have curdled milk. The effects were devastating, as the once powerful pokémon lay in a heap, its body unable to deal with the damage it had just suffered. It convulsed, trying to bring its serpentine frame under control, but to no avail. After little more than ten seconds, it lay motionless.

The crowd gasped. Was that it? How had some unknown kid manage to defeat the Grand Champion with apparent ease? On the field, the ref began a count out, but everyone knew what had happened. That pokémon wasn't getting up. Absol walked back to its trainer and sat by his side, and received a warming ruffle on its head.

The count finished, and the so-called “Grand Champion” again recalled his pokémon without a word and left the arena, never showing anyone his face.

That day, the unknown challenger became Grand Champion. And that was the day everything began to change.

Since this is the first time I'm reading Seasons, I'll be reading this from a newcomer's perspective.

I enjoyed reading the detailed description from start to finish, it was very entertaining and I could easily imagine the scenes inside my head. I was surprised to read this battle in the prologue was a champion battle, it's pretty rare in my experience, but I have a feeling that there will be a good reason for that. The challenger's ability is interesting as well and has certainly played a role for the challenger defeating the reigning champion, so I'm keen to see more of it.

That day, the unknown challenger became Grand Champion. And that was the day everything began to change.

Lots of foreshadowing in that single line of text, that's for certain. What it will be, I can only wait for that, even though I have trouble with that XD

Overall, I enjoyed reading your reboot (even though I had never read the original one XD), so I'm subscribing to this fic.

Well this was as good as I remembered it to be, it made me kind of nostalgic remembering Samia after such a long time.

Your description has gotten a hell of a lot better as well as your grammar and flow. I don't have much to say about the prologue except that I'll make sure to keep reading. One thing though, mayble space your paragraphs a little more.

Wow that is awesome description and wording I have to admit that battle scene seemed just perfect. Keep it up

At last the reboot! As good as I remember with an epic battle sequence (two actually) to start out. Love the improvement in description and general prose. The foreshadowing bit at the end that Tophat mentioned. Really elegance in your writing, and its been long enough since I've read Seasons, that its still rather new to me!

good stuff!

That was quite the adrenaline rush. The battle was very much "short and sweet" (though "short" might be a bit of a misnomer :P).

I will point out that I noticed some errors here and there that you seem to have missed in the editing/revising phase, though nothing major ("The intensity of the purple light grew as it approached it grew closer to Milotic..."), and I can't help but feel that some of your adjectives were a little overboard.

And I don't mean to be harsh here, but adverbs... For example, you state that the main character (whose name I unfortunately do not recall from days gone by), "softly closed his eyes". "Softly" feels extraneous here, because people don't generally close their eyes "hardly" or anything like that. In my experience, adverbs should be used sparingly, and only if you cannot find a "strong" verb that conveys your meaning ("said" and other "unimportant" verbs are an entirely different matter, and one that I haven't found an issue with when it comes to Seasons). Of course, that's just how I was taught, and I'm by no means an expert, it just seems different from what I usually see.

Overall, though, I really enjoyed the read. Though it's not perfect on the technical side, I can definitely let that slide and say that you've definitely got quite the beginning here. It'll be interesting to see how you further construct this world and the characters therein.

Excellent! Feeling a little bit nostalgic as I read this. Quite well done, as expected. I really like the way you do your battles, so much attention to detail. Only mistake I really caught was this:

heavy blows to the fire types hind legs.

Apostrofart. "fire type's"

Not much else to say at this point, since the prologue's pretty short and I know what happens next :P Can't wait to read it again, though!

I remember you had this story posted a while ago, I had read the prologue, and yet rereading it I still found it very well done. I'm glad you're redoing it, because the only reason I hadn't read it entirely was that I didn't have the time, but now I'll just read it as soon as you post it. I'm excited to see what happens next.

I'd still like to note though, your battle despite being very swift (without extended action) was still very gripping and believable. The description was great and hinted to a lot to come, which was good foreshadowing. You also managed to do a great description of both the pokemon and the scene, it was very vivid, almost like I could see it happening.

I thought this was a really good prologue, and I can't wait to get into the story.

What a surprise, I read this before too. I remember this well-written prologue quite well due to your amazing style of writing and great battle description. There's nothing much I can say but, welcome back SCND! I'm not sure if you remember me, but still, I'm glad to see you're back.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to reading more of this story. Keep it up!

Thanks for all the replies guys!
@Tophat Dragoneye;

thanks for the comments! I appreciate that as a new reader of this, you won't have seen the old one so for you, this a brand new story! Hooray! As for the foreshadowing, keep reading and you will see it come to fruition!

@Flaze;

Thanks for the points on my paragraphs. Some of them were a bit bulky, i'll try to get them spaced a bit better in future. And prepare for more nostalgia in the following chapter!

@Cooking king;

Thanks for reading! I really appreciate and thanks for the positive comments!

@Legacy;

I suppose it has been a while since Seasons was here, so i guess many people will have forgot it, so it should hopefully seem quite fresh to people, whether old or new readers. Thanks for the positive comments

@Prof. Lugion;

I will point out that I noticed some errors here and there that you seem to have missed in the editing/revising phase, though nothing major ("The intensity of the purple light grew as it approached it grew closer to Milotic..."), and I can't help but feel that some of your adjectives were a little overboard.

Yep, one to many "grews" in there. Good spot!

And I don't mean to be harsh here, but adverbs... For example, you state that the main character (whose name I unfortunately do not recall from days gone by), "softly closed his eyes". "Softly" feels extraneous here, because people don't generally close their eyes "hardly" or anything like that.

I disagree with this,as to softly close your eyes is a recognized thing. I guess i could have gone with something like gently, but softly still works IMO.

But thanks for going a bit more in depth with things, and whilst i know i'm not the best technical writer i will do my best to improve. If you see any more mistakes point them out!

@AetherX;

Well done on noticing that! I knew i would have missed an apostrophe somewhere, as it seems to be a running thing one verything i write, whether its a story or a history paper. My lecturer hates me for it lol.

@Lance;

Thanks for the comments! I do agree, this battle was swift in what happened but i didn't want it lasting forever otherwise the prologue would have been HUUUUUUUGEEE :P.

@Tsutarja;

Of course i remember you! Thanks for reading this again and i hope you stick with it!

And to all the other readers, thank you for taking the time to read my story! With nothing else to deal with, here we go!




Seasons, Book 1
Autumn



Chapter1
The Champion


Six years ago, an unknown youth crushed all opposition in the grand finals of the pokémon league, and became Grand Champion. He generally became recognised as one of, if not, the best trainer on the planet.

And he was bored.

Samia sat there, swivelling around on his office chair, with his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the mound of fan mail in front of him. Pulling his feet off the table, he brushed his thick, brunette locks across his forehead and cast his deep blue eyes round his office, thinking how wrong his naive views of being champion were.

From the simple white walls, the lack of any form of natural light, to the fact his secretary, yes his secretary, was sat outside, the whole thing was dull. He missed the days of being a travelling trainer, of mountains, forests and caves. Life in the outdoors, everything a constant adventure. What did he have now? A room with a desk.

Even his clothing had been forced to change. Looking down, he looked like a cross between a superhero and a businessman. A large pokéball was emblazoned on his chest, bordered with gold thread on a white background. His trousers were, well unremarkable, just simple black slacks, his feet clad in leather boots, his only link to his long gone trainer days. That wasn't even the worst part. Hanging up on the door was a cape. Yes, a cape. Coloured deep gold, he was expected to wear it on all official occasions. Quite frankly he hated the damn thing. Who in their right mind would choose to wear a garment like that?

Exhaling, Samia guessed he should start on the fan mail. If you could call it mail, the immature and disjointed letters were mainly from ten year olds, with the most coherent of it normally along the lines of “I THINK U IS AWEZOME BE MY FRIEND PLEAZE.” They could at least learn to spell properly. It took all of his self-restraint to not reply with incredibly cynical answers, but it wouldn't be worth the grilling he'd get from the media and the League Committee when it came back to bite him in the ass.

Picking up a pen off the green wooden desk, he pushed down on the silver top, revealing the nib with a satisfying click. Again and again, he wrote more or less the same response. 'Thank you for taking the time to write to me, train hard, be kind to your pokémon, and one day I hope to see you in the League!' Each time with an autograph at the bottom, just to keep his 'fans' happy.

Quite what they were fans of, he didn't know. Since becoming Champion, he had competed in one Grand Tournament and received seven serious challenges, each more pathetic than the last. On the last one, some girl from Sinnoh, he hadn't even had to change pokémon. That had been nearly three years ago, as after seven consecutive crushing victories, the challenges had stopped coming. Samia's only duty now was to represent the League as its figurehead and trophy boy, a task which he despised.

However, that did not mean he did not want to be there. A grim determination came to mind whenever this topic entered his mind, as it tended to often to of late. Whilst he may not find great enjoyment in being Grand Champion, Samia certainly didn't believe that any one else was worthy of the role. If anything, judging from the challenges he had received, the skill level of trainers had actually been on the decrease over the years.

Sighing at the predicament he found himself him, Samia laid down his pen, his wrist aching from the repetitive motions of constant writing. Leaning back on his chair, he wondered what it would be like to leave this place and become a travelling trainer again, living the simple life of just him and his pokémon in the wild, exploring caves and searching for worthy opponents.

He snorted. Worthy opponents? The last worthy opponent he had was years ago, and even then he had emerged victorious comfortably. The only thing that made them worthy was the fact that they had made him come out of his usual stupor and command his pokémon to crush them, rather than leaving it to do themselves.

His break was short-lived however, as a sharp rapping came through the thick oak door. It could only be one person: Natasha.

“Enter” he called begrudgingly.

The door opened smoothly on its well-oiled hinges. Samia's secretary walked confidently into the room. Her attire was typical of any office worker, simple and functional. A black skirt, white blouse, her red hair in an elegant ponytail as to keep out of her face. Of all the people here in the league, Natasha was the one who had the most contact with Samia. As she looked upon him, sitting there, his feet on the desk, leaning back on his chair, her emerald eyes softened slightly. She was a few years his senior, and often treated him like an unruly child.

“Good morning Samia” She opened, pulling out paperwork from a folder under her arm, “here is your schedule for the day.” Placing the papers down on the desk, Samia noticed the rather lengthy list of what he was expected to do today and audibly groaned.

“Really?” he asked, “Do I have to?”

Pretty much instantaneously, the soft look from Natasha's faced vanished. “Yes, you do.” she stated matter of factly, “Your schedule for the day is as follows: first of all there is a representative from the Kanto league here inquiring about your potential visit following the upcoming tournament.”

“I can't wait” Samia replied, barely veiling his sarcasm.

“Indeed.” She replied, “Following that we have a press conference then meeting your official fan club. We then break for a twenty minute lunch. Afterwards, a journalist from the trainer times is here, booked in for an interview, along with someone from the video-games industry. Then you have a sponsorship deal approach from Silph, a photoshoot, a videoshoot, a second press interview, a radio interview and finally a meeting with the League Committee.”

Another action packed day in the life of the Grand Champion seemed on the books. Satisfied that he had taken it in, Natasha went to leave the room.

“We leave in fifteen minutes, be ready.”

Slowly, Samia raised himself from the chair and began to gather his belongings. His belt of red and white pokéballs fastened round his waist at a jaunty angle, giving his hips a lopsided look. His fingers traced over smooth surfaces, feeling the essence of each of his companions inside. It had been far too long since they had received a decent challenge that he barely even bothered training any more. Begrudgingly, he put the cape onto his shoulders, and giving his office a quick look over, stepped out into the atrium.

Natasha stood outside, her fingers drumming on her thigh impatiently.

“This way Samia, your meeting awaits.”

The day panned out exactly as Samia had anticipated. Dull. The Kanto league representative flustered his notes and said nothing of worth and excused himself after little more than twenty minutes. The press interviews, though all from different media stations, asked more or less the exact same questions to which he gave robotic, monotone answers. The sponsorship deals were worse than what he had at the moment and other approaches from the companies were definitely sub par.

After hours of relentless tasks, Samia had reached the last one. Meeting the League committee. The task was potentially more dull than all of the others combined. The committee wasn't run by trainers but by businessmen. They were determined to squeeze every last source of revenue dry in an effort to expand their profits and stock markets, caring little for the actual traditions and history of pokémon battling. Samia didn't know if they ever actually had pokémon, or were just churned out from some fancy university in a big city with the express goal of bringing something boring into a world of something amazing.

Sitting in the corridor outside the meeting room, Samia cast his eyes around, hoping in vain to found something interesting. Instead, it was the same as it always was. Bleached white walls with tiled floors, giving a clinical cleanliness to the place. The bench on which he sat on was cold and hard, made of some sort of metal. He didn't investigate further as he wanted to save that particular surprise for later. No point overloading his thrill factors all at once...

Beside him on the bench a crumpled newspaper lay abandoned. Looking to either side of the corridor, Samia decided it could do no harm and decided to take a look. The paper was a few days old judging from the date, but as Samia rarely read them, it made little difference. The main article was about some celebrity singer marrying some other singer or some nonsense, so he skipped right past all of that drivel. Not much else in the paper seemed to be of much interest, though around half way through, Samia came upon an interesting article.

Who the writer was he didn't know, but they gave a lot of evidence that a group of trainers, called “The Chosen” had come to dominate the world of competitive battling over the last few years. Samia snorted. These theories popped up every few years whenever a new trainer or selection of trainers began to do well. In truth, this cycle happened all the time, with the old simply giving way to the new. These groups tended to be little more than a group of friends who simply travelled around together, beating gym leaders around the same time before they eventually reached a point where they could achieve no more and split up, each going there seperate ways. It often happened with travelling trainers, as the loneliness of the wild could be abated slightly by joining with people who had similar goals.

The door to his left swung open, and a wizened voice called out “Samia, we're ready for you now.”

Putting down the newspaper, Samia stood up, brushed over his clothing and stepped into the meeting room.

Walking into the room, Samia had to squint slightly against the brightness of the strip lighting. The rest of the room was rather unremarkable, just like an extended version of his office, yet down the centre ran a long wooden table, flanked on both sides by the committee. All of them were old, wearing business style black suits. Not a single non-grey hair was between all seven of them.

“Samia, welcome. Please be seated.” Came the voice of the CEO, sat at the far end of the table.

Obliging, Samia pulled out the green plush chair, a sharp comparison to the metal bench he had sat on outside. Getting comfortable in the oversized chair, he remained silent, waiting for the committee to address him. He didn't have to wait long.

“Now Samia, as you know the tri-annual Grand Tournament is approaching rapidly, in which you will be expected to take on the winner for the role of Grand Champion,” The CEO stated, “If all goes according to schedule, the final will take place in six weeks, during which you will be expected to attend the matches, press releases and other tasks that are befitting of your position.”

Samia groaned. Six weeks of being paraded around like a contest Skitty was not what he wanted. It had been bad enough three years ago when he had to do it for the first time since being Grand Champion, but now, it seemed even worse.

“During this time, we will require you to address your... attitude.”

Samia clicked awake from his thoughts, his attention now fully focused. “Excuse me?” He asked indignantly.

“Don't play coy Samia.” Another member of the committee chirped in, “You're damn right lazy when it comes to your duties as a Grand Champion. You are supposed to be the face of the competitive pokémon battling, yet your treatment of other trainers can be seem as almost disrespectful at best, highly offensive at worst.”

Gritting his teeth, Samia knew there may have been a slight truth behind those words. It didn't mean he had to admit it though. “If your talking about the incident with Cynthia, it was a simple misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding??” Another committee member (third on the left this time), his voice nasally and irritating, replied. “You insulted her entire team and elite four of which she presides over!”

“I don't think that's quite...”

“And what of your slight on the League of Kanto?” The closest committee memmber added, “Misty is a respected gym leader and deserved no such statements aimed at her, no matter how soundly you defeated her.”

“And what about when...”

The CEO raised his hand, signalling the other members to cease their cases (of which there were many more). “As you can see Samia, we have a valid point. Your attitude must change for this tournament, and then it will be done with.”

Samia's brow furrowed. “What do you mean be done with?”

An uncomfortable looking shuffle rippled around the room. The committee all looked up to the CEO.

“Now Samia, don't take this the wrong way,” He began, “despite your years of service and the clear skill of you and your pokémon, following this tournament we feel it would be best if.. if you step down.”

Samia was dumbstruck. Step down? He was one of the most successful and talented champions of all time, never losing a match in his six years in the role. And they wanted him to leave? He had served his time loyally, and whilst not perhaps gratefully, he still did it. He still deserved to be Champion. He was the Champion. He was the League.

“I disagree” Samia replied, holding the bite back in his tongue. “The role of Grand Champion, of head of all the Leagues, was created to be held by the greatest competitive trainer in the circuit. If I step down undefeated, then no subsequent Champion will have earned their place. In truth, you asking me to step down is the biggest insult both to me, and to the trainers who enter this competition.” He kept his voice under control and stable, not wanting to show the anger that was rising inside. He earned his place. Nothing would convince him to leave.

“Now Samia, be reasonable, we will offer you a considerable amount of...”

His anger snapped. “I DON'T WANT YOUR MONEY!” Samia shouted back, slamming his fists into the hard wooden table. Looking down at his hands, he could feel the painful welts of the strike burning into his palms.

Composing himself, he looked around at the committee who had recoiled in shock at his outburst. Rage still coursed through his veins, but he suppressed to get out his final words through gritted teeth. “If anyone wants the position of Grand Champion, they can pry it from me by defeating me in a battle. Until that day comes, which I can assure you will not be any time soon, I will remain Grand Champion. That is the end of it.”

Pushing the chair back forcefully, Samia stood up, gave the members of the committee one last look of disdain and left the room, slamming the door behind him. Outside, Natasha stood looking worried. Evidently his outburst had carried outside the meeting.

“Samia is everything okay?” She asked, sounding concerned.

Sighing, Samia ran his hand through his thick brown hair. His outburst was regrettable, but he stood by what he said. “Yes Natasha. Everything is fine.” he replied. “Do I have anything else to do for today?”

Picking up her clipboard, Natasha looked down the list. “No, it appears we are all done for today.”

“Excellent” Turning on his heel, Samia walked down the identical corridors, years of experience guiding his feet along the route to the balcony. Reaching the exit door, he pushed upon it to be greeted by the great mountain range which the League backed onto. The pale artificial light shrank away as its natural counterpart came flooding in. A crisp mountain air played upon his face, and his worries were forgotten. Here, outside of the League, away from the humdrum life of being Champion, he felt at home. Here, in the outdoors, was where he felt at piece.

His eyes adjusting to the light, he stepped out onto the balcony. It was roughly ten meters in deoth, sticking out over a great valley, resembling more a landing pad than a balcony, which was just what Samia used it for. Surveying the mountain range, he took a deep breath, the fresh air much more refreshing than the filtered air which came through the vents inside. All around him, dozens of snow topped peaks thrust into the sky, reaching for the heavens above.

Gently caressing his fingertips over the six red and white pokéballs on his waist, Samia located the one he was looking for. Detaching it from his belt, he depressed the button, allowing the ball to expand in his hand, then with a pop, the ball opened, issuing out a bright light. The light began to form in front of his eyes, the top narrowing down into insect like antennae, linking onto bulged lenses and a long narrow neck. A three pointed tail wagged back and forth, showing the pokémon's excitement, and large angular wings flapped, stretching out after being rested in the pokéball. Finally, the bright white light receded to be replaced with light green scaly skin. Along its back right leg, a twisted scar ran the length of its thigh, restricting the movement of the pokémon whilst on the ground.

Flygon. One of his most trusted pokémon, Samia embraced it around the neck as it looked around, to which it replied by nuzzling his neck and licking the back of his hair. Excitedly, the pokémon hopped backwards onto its haunches, tail raised and flicking from side to side in anticipation. Whilst his Flygon had never been much of a battler due to an injury it suffered long ago, it was still one of the best flying pokémon Samia had owned, and had been with him since his travels in Hoenn, many years ago.

“You ready buddy?”

Flygon was practically quivering with anticipation now. Approaching the pokémon, it turned and lowered its right wing, allowing Samia to climb onto its back. Gingerly, Samia lowered his weight onto the reptilian pokémon, who accepted it gladly. Turning around, its back right leg hobbling slightly as it faced the open air of the mountain range. It paused, poised to launch itself off the balcony, all of its muscled tensed, wings pulled in tight against its body.

“Let's go”

With one swift motion and a powerful blast from its wings, Flygon threw itself into the air. Pulling into a dive, Samia clung on tightly to its neck, though he was not afraid. He had complete faith in his pokémon, even as they rapidly descended in freefall. He was forced to squint to protect his eyes from the onrushing air, the ground clearly visible now.

At the last moment Flygon's wings pushed out, angling them away from the ground. The momentum gained from the drop allowed the pokémon to slingshot them high into the air, far from the ground. The thrill of flight never left a trainer, as no matter how long Samia had spent over the years flying with his pokémon, it was still a rush that got his heart pumping. Rising up past the balcony they were amongst a forest of mountain peaks and a sea of fluffy clouds close enough for Samia to run his fingers through, shrouding much of the lower range among them. Flygon's wings produced a light singing noise as they skimmed along, from where it gained its name as a spirit of the desert.

Leaning back on the pokémon's scaly back, Samia looked around. He tried to take these flights as regularly as possible, but often his duties kept him too busy. He wished he had more time to spend with his pokémon, and began to consider the committee's offer of stepping down, and being able to travel again...

No. He had fought for his position of Grand Champion, and fought hard. He and his pokémon had come too far to simply step down, to recede into nothing without a fight. He wouldn't leave, he wouldn't give up. This was his role, his domain, his mastery.

He was Samia. He was Grand Champion, until someone prised it from him in the purity of a pokémon battle.

Hmm... I can already see how this may differ from the first iteration. Only time will tell if my predictions play out, though. I saw a couple typos here and there:

Who in there right mind would choose to wear a garment like that?

*cough*

On the last one, some girl from Sinnoh, hadn't even had to change pokémon.

I think you're missing a word.

Great writing, as usual. Be sure to proofread! I can't wait for more.

Well this chapter was great, I for one had actually forgotten a large part of chapter 1 so it was nice to get a reminded plus some new things. I really liked this chapter cause it showcased what a champion's life was like when you put all the glamour and glory aside.

It feels kind of like showbiz in a way, even though you see movie actors and musicians becoming famous it's all managed by people that don't have much experience with what's actually going on. By the way I laughed at what Samia's mail said xD it was just too amusing.

There are couple of things that I need to point out though:

One of his most trusted pokémon, Samia embraced it around the neck as it looked around, to which it replied by nuzzling his neck and licking the back of his hair.

I feel like there should've been a period rather than a comma when Flygon was first sent out. This is because of the fact that the two feel like two different sentences all together as one moment you're talking about Flygon being his most trusting Pokemon then how Samia embraced it. That's just how I feel.

The second thing was after the second comma. Now this is more of a choice rather than something you have to do as it's just as good with a comma but adding a semicolon there wouldn't have been too bad either. Actually that's one thing, I think that you might be using too many commas, it's not like it's completely bad and like I said whether you put a comma or semicolon is your choice but if you see a point where you think the latter might be good then don't hesitate in adding it as it'll give a bit more variety.

all of its muscled tensed,

I think you meant muscles there.


Other than that I really enjoyed this chapter and I'm curious to see what happens in Samia's life next.

Loved the insight to Sam's life as a champ. I noticed a few typos with commas in the first paragraph, but other than that and a few typos, the writing is excellent.

I enjoy reading a story from the POV of an established champion. It's a nice break from the popular POV of a nobody trainer striving for glory.

This chapter certainly gave an interesting insight of Samia and his life as the Grand Champion. Many most likely would think that the life of a champion is full of luxury, yet Samia seems to living the opposite of that: it's filled with duties ranging from interviews, answering fan letters and having meetings with the League Committee, and it's dreadfully boring for him. What's more, he hasn't had a proper challenge for 6 years as the Grand Champion. I can certainly imagine myself being dreadfully bored just by thinking about it.

Despite all that, Samia still prides himself as the best of the best, which surprised me. I would've thought that he longed to travel once more, but his reasoning makes sense as well. If someone can't beat him, he might as well stay as the Grand Champion until someone finally is able. Nevertheless, his time as the champion seemed to have made him arrogant, if what the committee said is true.

As the others above me have said, there were a couple of typos throughout the chapter, but overall I enjoyed reading it.

That was good. I really liked getting a look into the mundane life of a Pokémon Champion.

Samia's personality really shined this chapter. I was impressed at how much you showed in such a small amount (compared to an entire story, anyway :P).

That bit at the end was also impressive. It actually got my heart rate up!