Chapter Six: Sleep

Celeana kept her arms around the little Pokemon, cradling her shaking frame and staying silent as the creature cried.

She'd probably ruin it if she spoke, with her careless words and all, so she remained quiet and let the Pokemon vent out all her emotions. If she was to be honest, she was scared at this awkward, uncomfortable situation—she could spoil everything by accident/

The Ralts cried as if her mind was being shredded from the inside; cried as if she was a young child—which she was—who had just broken and was letting out the rage that had built up over months and years of raw sorrow. It was as if every sound that escaped her mouth was set to the frequency that would shatter Celeana's fragile heart to pieces again and again and again.

And then, as the young Pokemon's hysterics quietened down, the Ralts fell silent. She opened her mouth, but not a sound came out, her head violently quivering as if there was a drill to the back of her skull. Her eyes saw nothing; they had lost all sight of what is and what could have been.

Yet, despite the darkness that had invaded her vision, a new bud of light had started to blossom, wan petals blooming and opening up to show the world their shaky—yet breathtaking—beauty.

It was a new flower of hope that took its time to working its way out of the chamber it had been locked up in and winding around its master's heart. Perhaps the hope had been there all along, but without some love it was trapped, like crystals in a stone.

The teenager exhaled in relief as the dual-type Pokemon stopped shivering in her arms, instead choosing to slump against her body in exhaustion from her outburst.

Now her tears had stopped, leaving just their tell-tale wet tracks down her face. Celeana didn't know what to do—she wasn't one for these actions; she wasn't a psychiatrist, but all she could do was copy what Miss Enya did and run a finger across the creature's face and wipe away her tears.

Ralts flinched, at it was then that the girl knew that she had copied the woman wrongly and used too much roughness—but none of them complained, and she sighed in relief when both of them were able to manage a low chuckle at the situation.

Tiny Beautifly seemed to move in a wave across the Pokemon's veins, their fluttering wings brushing against her heart for just a fleeting moment and easing the desolation that had racked the small creature mere moments ago.

Finally, the sobs stopped altogether, and a tiny voice sounded in her mind, filled with a raw, vulnerable note that she'd never heard before. "I'm fine now," the Ralts mumbled. "You can put me down."

The trainer ignored the Ralts' comment for a moment, holding the creature to her chest for a few seconds longer before setting her down on the lush carpet of spring grass. She stole a concerned look at the Pokemon, and moved into a squatting position next to her. "Are you...?"

Avoiding Celeana's gaze, a dark flush flooded the Pokemon's once snowy cheeks, looking at the ground in desolate embarrassment. Yes, she muttered with more resolution that she had expected. "I am fine. I'm sorry for worrying you, and I'm sorry you had to see such a weak side of me."

"Everyone has a weak side," the girl responded. "And everyone needs to show that weak side sooner or later. After all, we're all mortal, aren't we?"

"You're strong," the Ralts argued, but Celeana just shook her head and stared at the ground in embarrassment.

She laughed. "Not really. I'm not strong," she shrugged. "I can just copy these empty words that someone else told me and try my best—in reality, I'm weak all the time, and I don't bother to hide it. I guess people just take my weakness for strength."

The Ralts stayed silent, reflecting on the trainer's words before giving her a slight nod. The teenager smiled, glad that her words had reached—and maybe even touched—the young Pokemon's heart.

When the dual-typed creature dared to look up, she saw an empty, metallic capsule enclosed in Celeana's hand; the girl offering the sphere to her with an awkward grin. "You don't have to agree to go with me," the trainer stated. "But I would love it if you joined."

"I'm a cripple," the Ralts argued with a defiant glare. "I won't be able to do much for you, and will you be able to accept having a Pokemon that would get in the way?"

"Look," the teenager started, exasperated by the sudden inferiority complex that the Pokemon showcased. "Firstly, you aren't judged on your value. Even if you can't do much—even if you'll never be able to walk by yourself again—I won't abandon you. And secondly..." she trailed off, a sorrowful look spreading over her delicate features. "I promised that I would find a way to heal you."

The grass was straight and silent, and the leaves dangled as if they had been painted.

No air stirred the grass or leaves. No clouds drifted in the sea of blue above. No water dripped or flowed; not a sound could be heard either close at hand or in the far off distance. Even Celeana's own breath seemed to die as soon as it left her mouth. Ralts inspected the Pokeball held in front of her, red eyes shimmering as she swayed back and forth, trying her utmost hardest to make the decision.

The girl stared at the indecisive creature, wishing that she would hurry up and get rid of the stifling quiet around them.

Finally, the Ralts took a step forward, and Celeana instinctively closed her eyes in anxiety.

She opened them again as she heard the trademark "ping" of the Pokeball, amber eyes widening as she felt the sphere in her hand shake, the Ralts shrinking into a silhouette of red light and disappearing into the capsule at once.

The Pokeball wobbled once—so slight that she'd almost missed it—before coming to a halt, a ding reporting her successful capture.

Utter elation flowed through the girl's veins, warming her skin like the rays of an early summer sun. Her customary cautious expression exploded into a radiant smile that she had worn once before—and that was the time that she had received the news about her journey.

Beaming, she clicked the circular panel on the Pokeball, releasing her Ralts in a burst of bright cyan.

The dual-type Pokemon blinked, a little disconcerted from the short time it had spent in the Pokeball. Celeana scooped the young creature up, and as her mind caught up on the events of the day, the Pokemon offered her new trainer a bright grin—the widest Celeana had seen the small Pokemon display.

It made her happy to see her Pokemon happy, and as Ralts spoke once again, her voice stronger than the hysterical child she'd been comforting minutes ago, relief bubbled in her heart.

"I know the way out of the forest," her Pokemon vocalised. "If you carried me, I can probably help you find your way."

"Thanks, but—" Celeana sighed, lowering her head and remembering just why she had chanced across the Ralts in the first place. She sucked in a lungful of fresh air, trying to find a way to phrase her explanation. "One of my Pokemon ran off and I h—have to look for him."

"Ran off...?" The creature in her arms tilted her head backwards with an unamused look. I can sense feelings. "You're not exactly telling me the full story, aren't you?"

The teenager exhaled—nothing could escape her Pokemon's sharp senses—and confessed the entire truth.

"I lost a battle because of my inexperience," she mumbled. "I wanted to make it up to my Froakie by getting some training, but I messed that up too. I wasn't very nice to him and he left." Burying her face in her free hand, she let out a groan. "I really am an idiotic trainer."

"Hmm." Ralts' voice was unexpectedly neutral, and the tinge of deadpan in her tone caused Celeana's face to flush with even more shame. "I'd say you weren't that great of a trainer."

The girl flicked her forehead with a light touch. "Ouch. Harsh."

"It's the truth," Ralts retorted, smugness evident in her innocuous voice. While Celeana was glad that Ralts was cheering up, she didn't need to be reminded again of her wrongdoings.

The Pokemon looked up at her once again, her jesting tone then dropping to a quieter, more serious one as she conversed with her trainer. "So that was what those feelings were," she commented. "Anger and happiness."

As the teenaged girl nodded, the creature continued on. "I think you should find your Froakie before he gets into trouble."

"Trouble?" The blue-haired trainer blinked, looking down at the Pokemon in her arms. "Like how?"

"I'm not quite sure," the Ralts answered. "But this Froakie was the first Pokemon you owned, correct?" Receiving confirmation from her trainer, she proceeded once more. "Then you definitely should make it up to him. It'd be a pity to just... waste such potential friendship."

Celeana stared at the ground with a listless expression. "Both of us are prideful," she stated. "That similarity may be the reason behind us fighting."

"I once had a best friend." Her Pokemon's voice carried a trace of regretful nostalgia. "We had a fight the day before I got attacked by the Houndoom." At the recollection of the painful event, her voice tightened, but the dual-type creature kept her emotions in check.

"And then?" The teenager gulped in anticipation, but didn't dare to say anything else.

"When I came to, he was already gone," the Ralts uttered. "I talked to my mother about it, and she told me that he'd been caught by a trainer. I never saw him again ever since."

"Just... value your friends and your Pokemon." The Pokemon's voice was small. "Or you'll end up regretting it like me."

Celeana's footsteps slowed to a halt, pulses of bitter cold washing over her like the long, slow waves on a shallow beach, each time eroding away bits and shards of her defences.

As she'd admitted to the new member of her team, she was prideful, but she couldn't say that Ralts was wrong. She hated being alone, and she didn't want to regret losing her very first Pokemon over such a trivial issue.

And at that moment, her brain was overwhelmed, the single clear thought amidst the jumbled mess in her mind being that panic was a five-letter word.

She felt it building like a painful, unstoppable snowball in the pit of her stomach, not being able to concentrate on anything that she was doing. Her heart started to pump harder and faster, adrenaline levels rise, heartbeats rocketing to a wild, frenzied palpitation.

The teenager's frenzied brain fired out negative thoughts and conclusions rapidly at the pace of a machine gun, her usual calm replaced by a carousel of ideas, each one more worrying than the last.

"Calm down," the Ralts hurriedly placated. "Sorry for worrying you. Of course, there's also the high probability of your Froakie being fine as well."

"You're right," Celeana sighed, but there was a nagging voice in her head that refused to go away, telling her that she was absolutely right to worry and that Froakie was in more than a little trouble. Still, she didn't know how to express her thoughts to Ralts—she would just think that her trainer was just being paranoid.

The Ralts gestured to the left. "There's a lake nearby,"  she offered. "Many water-type Pokemon like to go there. Maybe your Pokemon went there to cool off."

Celeana bit her lip—something she sometimes did when she was nervous. "Maybe."

With that, she quickened her pace, staring down at the mossy earth and trying to distract herself from the thoughts invading her mind.

• • •

Left, right, left, right—

She was walking slowly—well, slower than usual, anyway—almost robotically, as if her brain was struggling to tell each foot to take the next step.

And then she heard it.

A muffled scream that tore through her heart like a great shard of glass was heard. It was the kind of scream that could make one's blood run cold, piercing the brain and igniting some primeval pathway.

The scream came again, desperate, terrified... mortal.

The blood drained from Celeana's face, and before she was even aware of making a conscious decision, her legs were making furious, pounding sounds on the uneven muddy track, ears straining for more sounds and clues as to where it had come from. She had no clue as to what she'd do when she got there—she only knew that she had to get there, fast.

When she reached her destination, she froze in her tracks.

Despite the ambient temperature, her drenched skin was icy, all blood diverted to her core organs. That was when the adrenaline had hit such a fever pitch that "freeze" just wasn't going to cut it anymore.

Froakie was bound, staring ahead in blithe terror and screaming his head off. The once prideful Pokemon's eyes were wide open with horror, chalky face immobile, tiny fists clenched with blanched knuckles.

Beside him was a burly man clad in black, the only parts of his face visible being a mop of messy brown hair and a pair of cold onyx eyes. A bipedal kangaroo-like beast stood next to his trainer, having a light coat of tan skin with green and red accenting his powerful body.

"What are you doing with my Froakie?" Celeana was furious—she ground out her words between clenched teeth, tone rising as she tried her best to sound brave.

He just raised an eyebrow, his Breloom moving forward to protect its master. A lazy smirk curled on his face, and he roughly yanked the Froakie upwards by the scruff of his neck.

"This is your Froakie?" he asked, false kindness—laced with venom, of course—dripping from his tone. "Oh, I'm sorry, little girl. Well, you should have taken better care of your Froakie, don't you think?"

Her normally introverted demeanour started to change, face contorting in an all-consuming anger; her nostrils flaring and her eyes flashing. Her hands curled into fists, clenched so tight her knuckles had been blanched white, fingernails digging into her palm.

"Give him back," Celeana insisted. "He's mine. He's my Pokemon."

The man shook his head, smiling at her once again. "Sorry, little girl. No can do."

"Celeana?"  Ralts spoke up in her mind, tugging on her sleeve. "I can battle. I may be crippled, but I'm still a Pokemon."

Nodding, the teenager held back her concern for her Pokemon's safety, placing the small creature on the ground. She hastily switched her Pokedex on, scanning through Ralts' moves.

"U—Use Confusion!" the girl shouted in nervousness, looking up at the battlefield.

Ralts complied, eyes lighting up in a bright cobalt as she held her opponent in place with a shockwave of psychic energy. Despite taking the full impact of the super-effective attack, however, Breloom didn't even flinch flinched, brushing off the move easily.

The trainer's eyes roamed from side to side as desperation started to engulf her. "Try it again..."

Her Pokemon seemed less than enthusiastic, but tried a different approach. This time, a whip of blue light appeared in her hands, and the dual-type creature flung it towards the Breloom with all her might.

"Is that all you've got?" The poacher raised an eyebrow, waving a dismissive hand at his Pokemon. "Use Energy Ball."

The beast nodded, letting out a harsh cry before creating a large sphere of forest-green energy in his arms. It crackled with raw, compressed power, a devilish grin spreading across the Breloom's face as he cast the globe towards his helpless opposition.

Ralts gave a pitiful whine, trying to counter the large monster in front of her with yet another weak Confusion, but it was to no avail.

The small creature was flung several feet into the air, landing on a patch of grass a good distance from her trainer.

"Stone Edge," the man finished, and at once, a ring of pointed rocks materialised around the Breloom. Ralts tried to drag herself out of the way before it was too late, but her useless leg prevented her from doing so, swiftly striking her poor Pokemon over and over again until it fell unconscious.

Celeana watched in horror as the Pokemon fell onto the ground, unmoving, and her first thought was to rush forward to retrieve her. She was too slow, however—the man had already picked up the creature and had started to inspect it.

She felt disgust cloud her mind as the thief nodded in approval. "Ralts is quite a rare Pokemon. Of course, it is crippled, but the Pokemon Center might be able to fix that. It won't bring as much money as the Froakie will, though—"

The fury and panic that the teenager had holding onto was like poison, spreading at an alarming rate and destroying her mind and body from the inside. Her pupils dilated into pinpricks, reaching out a shaking hand as if trying to get back what she had just lost.

"How sad," a voice sighed in her head, the familiar honeyed tone causing her figure to jerk bolt upright. "You're too weak to do anything."

"Who are you?" she wanted to ask, but the words simply couldn't leave her mouth. She was scared, far too scared, and she hated herself for being so helpless.

This is just pathetic, the voice commented. I can give you power, though. As much as you want. More power than you'd ever imagine.

Celeana reared her head. "E—Enough to protect my Pokemon?"

"More than enough," the whisper affirmed, so crisp that it seemed like the prescence was right by her ear. "I'll give you all that and more. More, and more, and more..."

As her consciousness ebbed, her mind went into free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of a new dream. It was like she was being drugged, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness and about to fall over.

Her body felt unusually heavy, like it was made out of lead, and she couldn't control it from trembling. She felt raw, vulnerable—exposed, and she hated that feeling.

The girl's mind felt like a giant TV, replaying scenes of agony and torture where she couldn't do anything in front of her over and over again at triple the speed.

You poor child, the voice in her head whispered.

It was silent and completely dark for a few moments after that, a poison to her chilled heart. It may have been quiet and still, but Celeana had the stifling urge to slap her hands over her ears, trembling and dropping to her knees.

For some reason, the blankness in her head was terrifyingly silent—it was defeaning.

Sleep.

With that one word, a switch in her mind seemed to go off, her world spinning once more before collapsing into an abyss of black.

• • •

wELL. This was a long chapter. (Well, maybe 3000+ words isn't a lot for some of you, but it is for a lazy ass like me LOL)

At least we know where Froakie is. He's... kidnapped? Meh, better than being flat out missing. And it's also pretty obvious who the voice is, amirite?

Besides that, thank you SO MUCH for 944 reads and 155 votes! That's about a 180 increase in reads :o My next goal is 170! :)

Critiques are most certainly welcome, and don't forget to read, vote and give your thoughts in the comments! Please be 100% honest!

~ nyxia ☆