Sunday, April 30th, 1989

Throbbing and nausea flooded through James's body as he opened his eyes. He felt cooler than he last could remember. I feel dreadful... what happened? Flat on his back, he stared up at the white cloth overhanging him.

"Good morning, James. I hope you are feeling okay. I turned my back for a moment, and you and Lioa had decided to try and drink a whole bottle to yourselves." Mr Bourbabel said. Poor kid, at least he signed in before he passed out. "I brought you some berry juice." He crossed his legs and slid down beside James. The wooden bowl's contents slopped around.

James snatched the bowl and tilted it. I've been so thirsty and hungry I don't remember if I even ate or drank yesterday. "Thanks. Wait, this is tamato berry!" James spat the juice out. "Hot! Spicy. You don't get this in Colran unless you are in Akrat... shit, festival. I must sign up!" Scrambling onto his feet, he felt Mr Bourbabel's hand on his shoulder.

"You signed up yesterday, but the matches do start soon." Mr Bourbabel turned around to see Kitiku asleep. His arms splayed out, and his body curled up. "You should get going. I'll be along in time. My match isn't until later." Mr Bourbabel waved, and the shelter door flapped closed. He glanced at Kitiku, sleeping.

Mum? Kitiku stirred. His eyes shot wide open. He scooted back against the wall. Oh, it is just him from yesterday. He looked at his hands and signed, "Good morning." Kitiku pushed his hair back and pulled his knees against his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

Poor boy. Is he lonely? It must be tough being deaf. It must be tough on his friends, too, having to learn sign language just to talk with him. Mr Bourbabel thought, crossing his legs. "Hello, Kitiku. Good morning to you, too. Would you like a tamato berry juice?" Mr Bourbabel signed.

Huh? Kitiku thought. "I can hear you, sir. I just..." he signed. "No, thank you. Do you have any water, sir?"

"Oh, I just assumed. Well, sure, I'll get you some water to drink. The matches are going to start soon anyway. I'll get you one at the stands." Mr Bourbabel picked up his waterskin from the floor and opened his hand. Kitiku slowly reached forward and took it. The two of them got up and pushed through the white sheet. The sun struck them like a scorching pot, and the sand dust blew around, obscuring their vision. The sound echoed through the speakers tied to the wooden poles which stood tall amongst the shelters. I suppose they are made from loudred voice modulators. It would make the most sense. Mr Bourbabel thought.

"Participants make your way to your respective battlefields in the centre of the festival. Matchups can be seen on the chalkboard. You may only use the one pokémon you have registered with to battle. Odd rounds are double battles. Even rounds are single battles. The winning pair from each double battle faces off against one another in the single battle round," the speakers roared.

Mr Bourbabel knelt in the gritty sand, touching the rusted metal pump. "Since you aren't participating, will you save us some seats, please?"

Taking the bulging waterskin, Kitiku nodded, looking at the board. James and Andrew are in the first round together. That's unlucky. I don't know much about pokémon battles, but they are paired together. Either way, at least one of them is going out, if not both. Lioa is on the opposite side of the same bracket, and Mr Bourbabel is on the completely other side of the bracket. Kitiku thought, sitting in the stands close to the small wooden board acting as a divider. It's deafening here. I wish I had stayed at home. At least this area isn't overcrowded yet. His eyes darted to the battlefield the furthest away from him, where he could see James taking his place.

Dust scattered around his feet as James walked onto the battlefield. The sun's rays bombarded his brown jacket. The sweat rolled down his cheeks. It is too hot for this jacket. Tossing the jacket aside, James held up his poké ball. If this is standard Colran rules, which it will be because fuck the Elktan bastards, stepping outside of the battler's box will be an automatic knockout. He heard a loud horn bellow out from the speakers.

"Let's go, Okta!" James pressed the button on the poké ball and tossed the green ball onto the sandy field. The golden onix screeched, loud enough to make the crowd cover their ears. Opposing soundwaves shot out from the centre of the field. Torracat and greedent.

"Nutkio!" Andrew's face looked up in horror. The deino was blasted back towards the edge of the battlefield.

The onix slammed its tail into the ground, the cloud of dust acted like a shield. She roared in triumph when a small thud came from where the deino was last seen before the cloud came. Flames flickered in the distance and a high pitched charged through the dust.

James felt calm wash over his body as the torracat scrambled, unable to escape the crushing weight of a rock pinning her tail down. Great, now where is the... "Ano where is it?!" Spit balls hurled towards James, quickly he lay flat on the sandy floor. No way I'm getting knocked out the arena. That must be the greedent using stockpile and spit up. His ears twitched, the sound of Andrew's deino screaming came from the distance.

"Okta, use iron tail." James spat the sand out of his mouth. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw his onix raise her tail up and smash it into the ground. Dust and sand sprayed out towards the sound of the screaming. "Finish the torracat off!"

The onix screeched into the dust diving down under the sand, flicking the dust into the gloopy spit flying her way. She twisted through the sand underground, chewing through larger boulders in her wake. The ground around her rumbled, sand slid past her rocky body, and through the dust she came up, bringing her tail above her head, she smashed into the rock pinning the torracat down.

"Torracat is down for the count! Deino is down for the count!" the referee called out.

James's ears pricked up and he looked across the field as the dust settled. When? James saw greedent's chipper grin as he dusted his chest down. No way, he took Nutkio out with a body slam... I guess it's one on one now, but it has taken way more damage... right? Okta has taken like... none.

James's onix raised her tail once more, slamming it down on the greedeent. Her swing was met with a puffy, curled up tail. Quickly, greedent slammed into the onix with its chest, but was met with a side swipe from her tail. "Ha, take that bastard! Yeah! My round! I win!" James raised his hand up to the sky. And because Ano's deino fainted, I get through. Worked out. Now, lunchtime! James smiled, stepping into the middle of the arena and bowing his head to his opponent.

"It was a good match." Mr Bourbabel walked over to James. "It was a cleaner match than mine. Let's go get some lunch." He tucked his hands into his pockets and walked towards the market stands.

"Yeah, Kuti, let's get food!" James smiled.

Kitiku looked at James, before looking back down at the ground. "I am broke, remember? We are both broke – I could barely afford train tickets and then Andrew and Lioa came so I had to pay for everyone's tickets and we don't have a return," he signed frantically. His hands trembling.

"Ha, ha. Lunch is on me, how about that?" Mr Bourbabel smiled. "Here, I have some change."

Taking the coins, James smiled up at him. "Thanks." The smell of qwilfish on a stick flooded into his nose. Oh, my cressellia, it's qwilfish on a stick! He sprung into action and ran down the market stalls.

Thud. James staggered back. "Hey watch it! Sutton? What the fuck man? What are you doing here you Elktan jerk!" James placed his hand on his onix's poké ball. "I'll call the guards and then crush you in battle!"

Sergeant Sutton raised his hands to his chest. "What the? Why in the name of giratina are you here? You know what, it doesn't matter." He took a deep breath out, and took a seat at a bench. "Firstly, it is what are you doing here, Sergeant. Secondly, don't swear at me. Thirdly, I may have accidentally been captured by some delinquents who had the full intention of enslaving me. However, some ruckus at the train station caused them to abandon me and I broke free. Lastly, it is Elk'an, not "Elktan". Elktan is what the country is called. Elkran is something or someone from there. We speak Elkrat, while you speak Colrat."

Oh, that fight yesterday when Mr. Bourbabel came in to save us... those guys must have grabbed Sutton too. Wait a minute... James said, "Wha' were you 'oin' 'efo're 'hen?" James swallowed some of the roasted qwilfish.

Sergeant Sutton sighed, and looked at James. "As I am sure you have been told by now, a new captain is coming to Fehahra. I was told he was going to pass through Akrat. I intended to meet him there. Rumour has it will be Captain of the Elkran guard." A shiver crept up his spine. He glanced at the table. That man is something else. His eyes snapped up to the battlefield and opened wide as specks of blood could be seen along the barrier. That's messy... He stood and raised his arm in front of James's eyes. Well... that's why they want to ban this festival. His eyes focused on the body on the floor. Colran rules are stupid. You can just outright kill someone in a festival like this and you'd win. At least in Elktan we have rules against doing such a thing. Yes, in combat killing is sometimes the only option, but we still try to avoid that.

"Hello there. Oh, that's not good." Mr Bourbabel walked over. "I would offer to help finish that food, but my arms are full and my appetite is... well..." He carefully placed Andrew's deino down on the table.

"This is Se-"

"Seth. I am Seth, I was going to participate, but changed my mind and very, very glad I did," Sergeant Sutton interrupted. "Hames here was just telling me about his onix. Gah!"

Liao stomped on his foot. "Sutton, your accent is showing. This twat is Sergeant Sutton from the Elktan army."

Mr Bourbabel smiled at him. "I think you mean Elkran. You see, unless they are using words from mainstream Coltese, like people's names – often though, the "r" is taken out, the Elkran people don't have an "r". Even me saying Elkran is incorrect, its Elk'an. Anyway, do I have to remove this man?"

Sergeant Sutton flapped his arms around. "No, no it's fine." He sat down at the bench. Oh, I see you hiding there, Sergeant Sutton smiled. "Hey, Kitiku, would you like something to eat? I take it your dad ripped you both out really badly. Then again... you are here. So, who are...?" Sergeant Sutton looked to where Mr Bourbabel was standing. Oh. I guess he is gone. I saw his first match, he chose gyarados, not only that, he was at a huge disadvantage. That pokémon must have some serious experience and be a high level.

The boys are enjoying festival, but can Clarence be trusted? He did save them after all. Does he have an alterior motive?

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