A Pokémon short story
Lorelei faced her greatest challenge in five years one day, after a routine stroll down the cobblestone footpaths into town for groceries from the Fourth Harbor Market, and it started with the cute-as-all-get-out, obese, pink Chansey doll in the arms of a bench-sitting little girl.
The extremely rare Chansey Pokémon Doll had sold out online in seconds the day of its release, and not only had it been produced in its limited quantities only for mainland Kanto, it hadn’t shipped overseas. Stores out here in the far-flung Sevii Islands hadn’t carried it, much like they didn’t sell the other dozen Kantonian exclusives which, rare as a Ditto’s ass crack, had eluded Lorelei so. She’d have paid the Seagallop ferryman extra to get her posthaste to Vermilion City on the mainland that day so she could spend the lightless predawn lined up in front of the department store over in Celadon, itching to scale those four flights of stairs and just maybe shell out P150,000, but no. Her beloved Lapras had fallen ill in the cove the night before and sneezed up a storm, stranding his titanic self and many of the weaker Pokémon inhabiting the grotto sanctuary in meters-thick super-ice. Lorelei, at four in the morning trembling in her requisite layers and parka, the frigid cove egress yawning into a viciously starry night over her and the immobilized Pokémon, had cried like a baby—it being evidenced again that her heart wasn’t so cold and calculating as often she reckoned and sometimes she flat-out told herself, despite her mourning the loss of her prized Chansey doll from the start. Oh, how a lifelong partner could be such a pain. If only she had brought herself to train her Slowbro to use Flamethrower, or at least retaught Psychic to him or to Jynx. But no—apparently everyone, not just Slowbro, had delighted in being an idiot back then. Namely, it had been a while since Lorelei last trained her stable of Ice- and Water-types with advanced tactics in mind.
Now, Lorelei felt she needed the Chansey she’d sighted so badly she might battle the kid for it given the opportunity, a feeling which reminded her of how petty she’d been that day and as a consequence bit like dry ice. The little girl and her parents beside her were definitely tourists too, and she, Lorelei Van Alstyne, was the prim and proper face of Four Island, even if these days she was quite a hermit. She couldn’t afford to stain her global reputation, much less the rapport of a recalcitrant, tourism-dependent backwater like the Four. It was her hometown, she its guardian. She was the tourist attraction.
Hell, the girl on the bench, she looked about eight, nine… Her parents probably had her studying Lorelei’s own instructional video series on all things Pokémon. If Lorelei proposed a trade for the Chansey with one, two, even ten dolls from her massive collection, the girl might know by the many PokéDolls Lorelei taught evolution and type match-ups with—which was to say every doll in the collection—exactly which ones Lorelei didn’t have. Little girls far and wide were terribly discerning like that, especially as more and more of them sought to become trainers when they grew up, weaned lavishly on Lorelei’s compassionate, all-ages teaching style. They’d all want to lay claim to something Miss Lorelei couldn’t, something exactly like a rare Pokémon doll.
But whilst Lorelei grappled with racing thoughts and concerns and embarrassment over the fact that she’d even thought of such petty things again, a rogue Pokémon came running, quiet as Mr. Mime and quick as a Rapidash, and snatched the Chansey out of the little girl’s lap. It was a Vaporeon, a blue aquatic feline, carrying the ovoid plush like an oversized chew toy down the avenue. The girl cried out, and her parents stood aghast in turn, the mother lamenting just where in the world that thieving Pokémon could be off to next.
Like the Chansey doll, Lorelei knew the Vaporeon belonged to someone too. Its species wasn’t native to the Sevii Islands, much less anywhere else. Evolving from Eevee through deliberate contact with a Water Stone, Vaporeon were almost always the products of their trainers. Each trainer made a careful choice among Eevee’s numerous morphic possibilities to balance their Pokémon team with the appropriate type—that, or they did something inane like picking the one that looked best, the cutest or coolest or what have you. Some chose according to the type they had selected for the entire team, trying to imitate Gym Leaders and Elite Four members who might handily kick their butts for such predictability—even though, per Pokémon Association guidelines, these regional leaders stylized their teams too. There had been a Water-type Gym Leader in Kanto, Lorelei remembered, but so long ago she wondered if the young firebrand hadn’t moved on already like she had. Lorelei hadn’t been to the mainland but to shop in years and kept up with the competitive battling circuit only to the extent that she could make cultural references while teaching and stay hip. The girl back then had insisted on using just the Staryu evolution line in gym battles anyhow, preferring natural Water-types to the point of swimming and training them right where she found them, so this particular thought tangent was more than fit to end here—
“Get back here, Vaporeon! Hey!”
The Pokémon halted and glanced back, the Chansey limp in its jaw. Lorelei swore the voice calling its name was familiar, deeper a touch but distinct in its fervor nonetheless, and likewise she turned upstreet, looking out from under cover of both sunglasses and a straw hat in addition to the shade of the Fourth Harbor Market, in the process realizing once again that sunlight was indeed a thing. The girl who sprinted by, a light blue track jacket tied and flapping about her waist, had honey-brown hair that was long, styled much differently than Lorelei remembered. She was older too, an adult perhaps, the experience set in her eyes, an array of victories and defeats contorting and maturing her face. Right now her face was exasperated, but an essence of joyful light shone through. Lorelei recognized it as the thrill of a sudden chase, the rush of adventure, and the felicity in doing things with a partner, a loved one. The naughty Vaporeon—who was running again, madcap—unabashedly belonged to this trainer. And by the girl’s athletic gait, her Staryu earrings, the tear-shaped Cascade Badge bouncing at her neck, Lorelei knew just who was pursuing the rascal. They hadn’t known each other well—not at all, really—but Lorelei wondered who the girl had become in the bounteous process of deviating from whom she had been five years ago.
Lorelei fished a PokéBall from her handbag and flipped it to the ground. “Cloyster, tag along and help Misty corner that Vaporeon of hers,” she said, the man-sized bivalve assembling her natural energy into form accompanied by a short burst of light, purple outer shell laced with foot-long spikes. “Catch the doll it’s holding if you can, but do make sure nobody gets hurt. That includes the doll.”
“Cloy…” the Pokémon whispered, sinister the way she sounded, an impression made worse by the enduring rictus on her pearl-like face. Cloyster then began levitating, displaying her species’ infinitely strange biomagnetic use. She bore down the avenue with the lumbering presence of a parade balloon, swimming through air a foot off the ground. Lorelei saw the Pokémon catch up to Misty downhill and scare the girl a beat, then gesture friendship with a bodily nod. Together they continued east of town.
This done, Lorelei took steps herself to join the fray—to make an entrance, if you would. She walked north to where the footpath bridged a small, gentle river. Another PokéBall issued from her bag, exploding open at her feet.
“Jynx, dear,” Lorelei crooned, face-to-face now with a purple-skinned, blonde-tressed humanoid who was robust and beauteous in a flowing red gown. She raised her left hand and what was in it. “Hold the groceries for me?”
“Jynx!” the Pokémon uttered thrice, positively bubbling at the prospect of being able to help. Every syllable from her mouth sounded as if it came with a smooch.
Her grocery bags thus deposited, Lorelei tossed one final PokéBall, the creature inside this time forming squarely in the river. His was a peaceful saurian form twelve feet long, shell-backed with a far-reaching neck, cream underbelly, and blue hide.
“Ahoy, Lapras! We’re heading downriver.” Lorelei got a running start despite her friend sidling up to the bank and plopped herself onto the Pokémon’s knobby backside. Once seated she turned back to Jynx. “You too, darling, at your own pace. Just follow the water. We’ll be at the next crossing. You know the one.”
Jynx intoned again, bouncing now—Lapras cooed in assonance. The ladylike Ice-type was more than capable, Lorelei knew, so warm with the townsfolk she could very well shop for Lorelei if her trainer didn’t need a weekly reconnaissance mission for newly arrived PokéDoll stock and genuine human interaction. Lorelei was thankful, indeed forever reverent, and she wondered a moment if she’d truly bought enough Pokémon food this trip, pre-made as well as what she had gathered in base ingredients. Treats were definitely in order.
She stroked Lapras at the nape. “Well met, sailor. Off we go.”
Misty had not come to the Sevii archipelago expecting trouble, the farthest thing from it ever since Team Rocket had dissolved, though in hindsight her spirited Vaporeon had not had the best ride over. The water cat had spent several hours aboard the Seagallop ferry stuffed inside her ball, trainers not permitted to release their companions overboard to swim like they could on small boats not in extra-regional protected waters. For reasons unknown to Misty, her Vaporeon had a zealous affinity with the person she’d been some years ago: a brand-new, thirteen-year-old Gym Leader of Cerulean City who’d wanted nothing in the world but to swim, surf, battle tough opponents and crush them with Water-type might. She still desired such competition, of course, always burned for the taste of salty tears and was probably still a tomboy beneath any refractory layers of herself, but she wanted what she did now for different reasons, and not without a portion of questions, doubts, and fears she thought brutally unfair. She’d been walloped hard already by the pair of trainers who came blowing through the place of her birth five years ago in the spring, one after the other. They’d both moved on to beat Kanto’s Elite Four at the Indigo Plateau within a few weeks, exposing her as nothing, lukewarm stuff—not to mention the quiet one had trounced a criminal organization all by himself.
Misty had been humbled. Forever after, Misty was humble, and the better for it. But it was precisely the aftermath of such awe-inspiring feats of glory that had left an imperishable curse right at Misty’s gym door. Now five years later, here she was with her questions, glad to be out and about. Looking for the person to hopefully give her some answers.
But before Misty could get to work, Vaporeon had overstayed her welcome in what was technically her own home. Because of the spirited personality Pokémon and trainer had in common—had had in common—Vaporeon did horribly inside of her ball and forced it open more often than not, an experience Misty never wished to have again on account of time spent with another Pokémon who’d given her such headache-inducing treatment already. As a result, Vaporeon usually roamed free, swam and got all her exercise out at Cerulean Cape or in the Pokémon gym’s luxurious enclosed pool. But soon after the ferry docked at Four Island and Misty set foot into town, the jittery feline had broken out amid the crowd, scampered off in some witless direction and made off with a girl’s PokéDoll. The last thing Misty had come looking for on Four Island was trouble, and here it was. She regretted that Vaporeon’s ball, once forced, only worked again after its occupant fainted—could no longer sustain its energy in assembled form—or willingly returned to the mechanism. She didn’t want her other Pokémon giving chase either because that would be traumatizing. And now she had some kindhearted trainer’s Cloyster along for the ride, the poor thing, albeit this Cloyster was awfully skilled at giving Misty’s limber Vaporeon a workout with no easy outs. Somehow the arrangement was preferable, more like healthy competition than anything else.
Wait. Some trainer’s Cloyster…
“There we go. Lapras, Ice Beam! Freeze the river solid!”
Up to now the friendly Cloyster had been firing spikes into the ground nonstop, meticulously corralling Vaporeon without landing hits, herding the cat from any semblance of a water body. Now they were fast approaching a footbridge, a river’s intersection with the path. Vaporeon was synonymous with water, to the gills, and it would be disastrous if the Pokémon were able to jump in. Misty hadn’t forgotten that the Chansey doll was an exclusive and expensive as shit either. Way back she’d failed to get one herself.
But now Lapras was here too?! Heck yeah!
The blue sea beast almost plugged the river with his girth. He whistled, generating appropriate temperatures in his gullet before a cold white laser crackled out and struck the water, in moments sheeting it all and then some. The footbridge swayed in the attack’s frothy gust, rattling with laughter as if at the sudden peril of Vaporeon’s plight. Terraforming over a Pokémon doll. Misty was floored.
Vaporeon, who’d largely evaded and strafed Cloyster with tiny potshots after discovering her shelled adversary could weather the full brunt of a Hydro Pump with a simple retreat, took aim at Lapras next, as if in vengeance. She let the plush Chansey drop to her paws and discharged volumes of water from her mouth in an instant, though only as much as she could muster before Cloyster barreled in making an attempt on the doll.
“Again!” Lapras fired an Ice Beam into the racing water column, neutralizing it foot by steady foot.
“Vaporeon, get back here, please!” Misty called. “I’m not even ordering you to attack. What are you doing?”
The Pokémon cried havoc despite her clear disadvantage. Without water nearby, Vaporeon relied only on finite quadrillions of cellular cisternae and the liquid-filled vacuoles inside them to provide the content of her attacks. She juggled the doll round Cloyster and loosed blast after blast, volleying hopelessly with the kind of courage Misty only saw in dreams nowadays. It was crazy. Vaporeon kept going, ducking and doling out until the blasts themselves dwindled in size. Her trainer and perhaps everyone observing the sight possessed in them a level of awe, their pleas and actions serving only really to poke, prod, and defend. But for Misty the feeling was perverse.
“Vaporeon…” She shook her head slowly, fearfully side to side. “Why are you—what is this?”
Her fear culminated quite apprehensively, at the point when, Vaporeon still chugging ammunition, Misty reckoned with the idea that the very water pressure in Vaporeon’s body might begin to run out.
“Vaporeon, stop!” Misty wailed. Tears flung, reality wrenching itself loose. “You’ll die if you keep this up!”
But nothing changed. Sunlight winked off the Pokémon’s blasts as if to torment her, and Misty, crying outright, soon struggled to see anything at all.
“Lapras, Confuse Ray!”
It was quick. That calm and composed voice sliced through Misty’s dissociative watery veil. Misty wiped her eyes and noticed that Lapras had slid and shimmied up to the river’s edge, presently craning over both Cloyster and Misty’s wily fighter on the ground. The saurian Pokémon gaped, and there in Lapras’ craw gathered energy in a blustery golden sphere that he shot true and fair. The nature of Confuse Ray led the move to meander in space, bewitching like a cruel marionette sun before it homed in on Vaporeon and burst right in her face, a shower of illusory sparks. Misty, who was above all else distantly frightened by the display, saw Cloyster sneer.
The overall effect of the move in this instance was a finishing blow. Vaporeon shook and stumbled backward, abandoning her Chansey doll in the grass. She yawned, a small, dizzy Water Pulse forming and dissipating in air before the Pokémon keeled over, lengthy mermaid’s tail ruddering violently to right her course. It was another few seconds before lightheadedness in some status condition or another crept up and took her out, such that her exhausted blue form broke up into a ruddy nebula of energy and was siphoned back into her ball. At last it was over. Misty removed the ball from her shorts pocket and stared, her tears slowing but still very much in the way. She grasped with all her senses for comprehension, an iota of grace, and floundered, right up to the point she felt a hand alight on her shoulder. She looked up with stifled breath. Yes. Her idol. Misty knew it was her—the Ice Mistress of the Elite Four.
Lorelei lowered her sunglasses, briefly because they were prescription, no doubt. For a moment there were her coffee-brown eyes, barky but empathizing, curiously shy things Misty had wondered about ever since she first saw Lorelei on television, her opponent’s musclebound Nidoking felled by a sadistically cheerful bivalve. Beneath her summertime hat Lorelei was still a redhead, though that in itself wasn’t the surprise. It was the summertime hat itself, her whole getup really: shades, denim, a sundress and sandals, when Misty was still used to the gold-flaunting secretary look many a trainer had glimpsed making first and last treks to the Indigo Plateau. Greeting trainers like that as if to mark attendance of their fated meeting and promptly send them packing, Lorelei had made Misty wonder if the elite trainer wasn’t a fan of schadenfreude or just downright evil, Cloyster her ace in dire need of some subtlety. Then one challenger and his Raichu electrocuted the bivalve along with two or three other Pokémon, and Lorelei spoke candidly to the pair on live TV.
“Congratulations! It’s been a long time since anyone pushed me this far,” she had said, producing a rag to polish her lenses. “I’m having a lot of fun, so I really should thank you. I do. But this is the end of the line.
“To truly ascend to the heights of greatness, you and your Pokémon must share an unbreakable bond. Your hearts mustn’t be hard no matter what may try to frost them over.” Lorelei closed her eyes. Once reopened they burned, newly thawed out. “You’ll never see a hint of your potential if you two aren’t in this together, you hear me? Let no opponent break you, even as I will now do so… Armed with the bond I share with my Pokémon, my trusted companion, I’ll put you and yours on ice.” Lorelei called on her Lapras and pitched his ball. The rest was history.
“Now,” Lorelei told Misty presently, Cloyster pinching the ruffled Chansey doll and her Jynx having appeared with large mitts full of grocery bags from around the bend, “let’s bring this on home.”
Misty hugged Lorelei and sobbed hard into her chest, feeling like the little girl she’d sometimes found herself wanting to be.
It was a simpler matter fixing the river, using Cloyster’s Spike Cannon to grind meters of ice into molecules, than it was to apologize to the little girl for Vaporeon’s antics. The plush Chansey hadn’t suffered the elements but nonetheless had plenty of saliva and bite marks. Though the girl herself was delighted just to have her doll back, her mother insisted on collecting damages. Lorelei agreed to foot the bill and recommended a seamstress of whom she was a repeat customer on Three Island, but even then folks were still miffed. Only after Lorelei doffed her hat and shed the sunglasses—again, briefly—did the girl’s parents recognize the teacher of their spawn and apologize profusely in their own right. They went so far as to offer Lorelei her money back, an offer she declined without thought. Lorelei even countered with dinner at her place, but it was to the father’s chagrin that he couldn’t miss a business flight early the next morn. Passersby who hadn’t recognized Lorelei in her shopping attire beforehand waved and congregated, each according to their own, and pictures were taken in turn, autographs signed, more of both since a Gym Leader was also nearby. The fanfare could be bothersome, sure, but Lorelei Van Alstyne was nothing if not magnanimous. The island be damned if anyone left her on a bad note.
Vaporeon was accounted for with a trip to the Poké Mart for Super Potions and a Revive, plus recon for any surprise PokéDoll inventory. The Pokémon Center, that loving bastion of universal healthcare, took too long for Misty’s liking at the time. Lorelei was glad they’d skipped it—the center’s living, breathing retinue of Chansey nursing aides felt like a punch in the gut each time she went inside. At the Poké Mart, Lorelei also bought more kibble now that she had guests, and afterward the trainers fell into step with Jynx outside to make the trek home.
Home for Lorelei was a tiny cottage close to the woods, roofed purple and quietly off the beaten path. Inside the ladies soon met in the kitchen, both beat, and Misty plopped right into a seat at the table. Lorelei removed her hat and changed glasses such that she saw everything now in better light. She redid her ponytail looking out at the backyard pond, in which their companions ate and swam with joy. Vaporeon, after hissing at Lapras and Cloyster, had occupied the deep end of the pool, using Acid Armor to merge with the water at a cellular level. Thankfully, the feline had relaxed for the most part. This act of replenishing also made her invisible and was the true reason Lorelei had iced the river—so, with or without the Chansey, Vaporeon hadn’t been able to break Misty’s heart in giving them the slip.
Misty herself wasn’t so at ease. Indeed, she’d given Vaporeon a long nuzzle poolside before letting the cat heal, and Lorelei supposed the girl had trouble even letting her Pokémon set off to do that.
“I still don’t get it, Miss Lorelei,” Misty said, apparently having waited long enough now to broach the lingering question. “What happened back there?”
“Firstly, just Lorelei, honey. I tolerate the honorifics in public, but let’s be more familiar with each other, yeah?” Lorelei smiled, both to reinforce the sentiment and to brighten Misty a bit. Then she sat down. Jynx ate beside them at the table and was frankly gorging herself. “You told me Vaporeon has a bit of an independent streak,” Lorelei said. “Well, she’d been cooped up, needed to work off her anxiety, and it seems instinct took over when she came across—that poor doll…”
“Are you all right, Miss—is everything okay, Lorelei?”
“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Lorelei said, quickly clearing her throat and pointing down the hall, more than a little embarrassed. “If you’ve ever watched my video lessons or you go in that room right there, you’ll know I care a lot about PokéDolls, and what they mean for the little ones… Poor kid. They’re a girl’s best friend, right up until she turns ten.”
“At which point the real thing scares the crap out of them.”
The ladies laughed at their rhyme, Lorelei then occupied by flashes of her childhood and how the rhyme had applied to it. So stalled, she left the conversation hanging, and Misty picked it back up.
“So, Vaporeon needed exercise,” she said. “I get that, sure. But why did it seem like she was defending the doll with her life back there?” Here she looked up at Lorelei, face hinting she might tear up. It was a tough question she was asking, but an answer she needed, no doubt.
Lorelei drank from her glass of water and put on a face somewhere between Miss Lorelei and True Friend Lorelei—whatever she looked like without a mirror in which to calibrate it. “It’s really quite simple,” she said. “It’s because of the bond you share with your Pokémon. Vaporeon adores you, and she’s inclined to give it her all because she knows you’d do the same for her.”
Misty made a hesitant smile. “Even in a situation like that?”
“Precisely in a situation like that. When you’re a Pokémon, and you’re doing one thing and all of a sudden there are people running after you and Pokémon running after you and all sense just flies out the window, your natural reaction is going to be what someone you love would do. If they would fight to protect you, you’re going to fight too. Who cares what got you into such a mess? You’re going to fight like mad to get out.”
Lorelei put her drink to her face and held it there. She thought it really could have been dumb instinct driving Vaporeon’s nerve earlier, had believed it too. As a result, she’d started out bullshitting her explanation, the way she’d performed for the camera as part of the Elite Four. It was a bad habit, defaulting to cold cynicism and having to control for it at once. But the more she spoke, the more she believed what she was saying instead and continued. Lorelei wondered first if Vaporeon had meant to nab and play with the doll for stress relief, as might be expected, then came to the idea that, as the situation progressed and the cat got the action she’d been craving, Vaporeon had then wanted to gift the doll to Misty herself, and a precarious corner had transmuted that loving desire into life-or-death motive energy. Hell if it was rational—it would have felt right. The more Lorelei pursued this line of thinking after finishing her spoken deductions, the more she saw from her own life that suggested—no, proved—what she said was true. Her findings both warmed and chilled her to the core. She wasn’t sure Misty was ready to hear specifics, and so she kept them to herself for now, though clench and twist her heart they did.
Misty seemed to agree with what she’d heard. The eighteen-year-old Gym Leader slumped in her seat, pendent Staryu jewelry whipping back with force. “Wow,” she said, and she appeared to have too many feelings for words shortly after that. Mood.
Slowly Lorelei lowered her glass. “Misty, forgive me. We haven’t even gotten to the good stuff yet. What brings you all the way to Four Island? Surely it can’t be Four Island.”
Misty laughed, both like she was expected to laugh and like she’d considered making such a joke herself. The result was doubly self-conscious, hazarding the maybe-conclusion that such island-bashing was probably okay in this context, and Lorelei appreciated the cognitive effort involved. At least Misty honestly cared about things. Such was more than Lorelei usually gave herself credit for.
“Actually,” Misty ventured, “I came to see you, Lorelei. I have a bit of a problem.”
Lorelei chose her next words carefully, a joke that Misty could have other problems after what Vaporeon had put her through itching to leave her tongue. “I’m flattered you took the time to visit me personally. What seems to be the matter, then?”
“I feel stuck.” Misty said it straight and shifted away, untying and pulling on her jacket. She shoved arms into the jacket’s baggy sleeves and hugged herself like a draft had entered the room.
Lorelei followed her gaze out the glass door to the patio and the Pokémon-filled pond. The Ice-type user was surprised to hear this was the girl’s problem, thinking Misty had made incredible progress since becoming a Gym Leader so young. The Water-type Pokémon Lorelei saw belonged to her were a far cry from the nearly identical Staryu and Starmie she’d used at the start, among them a hale-seeming Golduck, her Vaporeon, and in the elegant Kingdra and bright-glowing Lanturn two from distant Johto, in addition to her signature Starmie. Lorelei didn’t even know her final Pokémon, assuming the full six were indeed how many she carried now.
The sound of Jynx’s munching filled the room. Looks were deceiving, Lorelei concluded, and left it at that. “How do you mean?” she asked next, and waited.
Misty shook her head. “I feel like… I hit my ceiling. Just like that. Nothing inspires me anymore. My Pokémon and I keep training, and we keep beating the trainers who challenge our gym, but… What’s the point if nobody actually gives you a challenge?”
Lorelei knew what she meant. “Go on. When did the feeling start?”
“Two years ago. Maybe even before that, but—that’s how long it’s been since I lost last. I don’t even count it as a loss, really. The kid had already earned all eight Johto badges and beat Lance at the Indigo Plateau. Then he took me on for no reason. I was a complete waste of his time. Don’t know why he bothered with me with a team like that.”
“Okay,” Lorelei said, amazed at the places this topic was already going and feeling her blood begin to move, “two years ago, you said. What happened that you felt your ceiling had been hit?”
“Simple. Ever since that pest finished his victory lap of Kanto, no trainers have shown up at my door who are good enough. It’s always the weak bird Pokémon they come with, maybe a Geodude if the trainer managed to survive Mt. Moon. And then they might have a Zubat or a bunch of Bug-type Pokémon—eww! Don’t bring those things into my gym.” Misty stayed herself, hand to her chest. “And while I’m stuck there, obliged to accept these challenges, my favorites don’t even get to battle. They’re too strong, and I’m one of the early Gym Leaders for most stopping by. Using them always goes against Association rules.”
“Pardon the interruption, Misty, but if this frustrates you so, have you ever thought about not being a Gym Leader?”
“I have, believe me. But even on this little sabbatical to see you, I closed the gym instead of handing the reigns to one of the junior trainers. Parker and Diana, as enthusiastic as they are, just don’t have what it takes…” Misty took a breath. “And that’s what upsets me most. I don’t have a successor. Nobody wants to succeed anymore. Nobody trains, and nobody wants to be a Gym Leader, or any kind of leader. Nobody has to be one.”
Lorelei steepled her fingers. “That’s a serious accusation you levy, against a whole region, no less. Why do you think that?”
Misty laughed to herself, arms crossed. “Do you mind if I say something that I know makes me sound stupid?”
“No judgments. Merely observations.”
“Right. Ice Mistress of the Elite Four,” Misty said, rolling her eyes while Lorelei tried not to grimace. “Okay. What if I said part of me wishes Team Rocket was still around?”
Beside the conversation, Jynx stopped eating—a rare occurrence in itself—and took on a shade of disquiet.
Lorelei’s heart had skipped a beat, maybe two. She feigned a drink from her glass. “Well, you’ve said it… Why do you wish such a thing were true?”
“It’s not like I want it to be true. Team Rocket terrorized Cerulean City. I stayed a Gym Leader and trained hard to make sure that didn’t happen again. I needed an edge. But,” Misty said, “now I don’t, and it sucks. I have all this energy to use and nothing to use it on. Brock’s had a hard time letting our responsibility sour too, even with nine siblings. All this to say, I remember back when Kanto had a crime ring operating out of the Celadon Game Corner. At least we needed strong trainers and strong Pokémon to get in there and break it up. Now everything’s just boring and stale.”
“Maybe,” Lorelei said curtly. “But remember, Red destroyed Team Rocket five years ago. He beat Giovanni outright and made him a wanted man.”
“Yeah, and when Team Rocket came back, that Johto kid took care of them real good. Then he came over and whooped me.”
Lorelei’s breath had stopped halfway through, and though she wasn’t certain she’d heard Misty correctly, she was pretty sure she had. She first looked out to the pond, then stood and made her way to the patio door. Staring at her Ice-type friends and family—Slowbro too—she put a hand to the glass. Delicate, the action, but she imagined the glass shattering before her, wanted to be the one to shatter it very much.
Her back to Misty, Lorelei said, “Tell me, dear. Do you know what it means to lie to someone? Really, do you know what that means?”
She saw Misty straighten in the glass.
“Yes?”
“Then please don’t lie to me.” Lorelei ran hands through her hair and breathed. When she turned halfway to Misty next she wasn’t in possession of a warm expression, having lost it somewhere in the folds and wrinkles of the remembered past. “What’s this about Team Rocket coming back?”
Misty took a breath herself, obviously surprised by Lorelei’s shift in tone. “Well, it was three years after Giovanni went into hiding. Some lackeys calling themselves ‘Rocket Executives’ stormed the radio tower in Johto and broadcast a signal pleading him to return.”
“Really?” Lorelei fully faced her, balanced against the patio door. “No lie?”
“No.” Misty uncrossed her legs. “They’re why another round of decent trainers came my way, amped up from having someone to defend against. Team Rocket, Jr., sure, but still pretty out of their minds. They had a group over in Azalea Town cutting off Slowpoke tails to sell on the market at a ridiculous price…”
Lorelei scrambled to the sink and hurled. The memories tortured her head for what seemed like an eternity before letting go.
Misty instantly regretted mentioning the events that had transpired at the Slowpoke Well, but they had been the first example she could think of that didn’t make her want to vomit too—yes, the Slowpoke debacle was gruesome, but the story of how Team Rocket had abused and provoked the red Gyarados at the Lake of Rage was too much for her, given she owned one herself. Still, even then her choice had been thoughtless. Lorelei’s Slowbro, evolved from Slowpoke, was the Ice Mistress’ most forgettable Pokémon—not even an Ice-type—but it should have been obvious that Lorelei felt different. Misty was particularly shocked, however, by the nature, speed, and violence of Lorelei’s reaction. She hadn’t known what to do when Lorelei began to retch, then slid to the floor in a series of paralytic sobs and shivers, breakfast down the front of her dress. Jynx had panicked as well but not unthinkingly, and it was the Pokémon who caught and cradled Lorelei, sat her back in her chair, tended to the rawness, helped Misty figure out her own role in such a disturbing ordeal. It startled Misty moreover to see the adult Lorelei treated like a kid. Such a thing stung just to witness. It was treatment Misty herself found she didn’t want. She’d sometimes desired to have things easy again, to not feel the enormous responsibilities she did, but she had never wanted it like this.
But, then, what did she want?
It startled Misty most when she learned the truth about Lorelei, however, upon inquiring as to what had brought the woman such a scare. Misty had come to Four Island on a tip from Bruno of the Elite Four, who she met thanks to Brawly, a mutual friend, fellow surfer and Gym Leader from another region. Such roundabout knowledge of even Lorelei’s whereabouts had prepared her little for what to expect on arrival, and chiefly the unexpected—every last drop.
Lorelei drank plenty of water, and Jynx carried her to the bedroom for a change of clothes. The door shut on them much like it was on many seeming facets of Lorelei’s person. But when she emerged next, the Ice Mistress wore Seel-themed pajamas and clutched a sizable plush Lapras, the latter of which she held to her bosom while making the effort to tell Misty all, something she seemed eager to do.
“Thank you for coming, hon,” she prefaced. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to, especially in this house.”
Lorelei had grown up on Four Island a sickly child, her father having relocated the two of them from industrial Kanto to a place with clean air. Bedridden without friends or Pokémon until she recovered, she often suffered in isolation. Her only companion had been a plush Lapras, locally produced. This particular doll had been lost to time and later replaced by the one she hugged now, even and especially at the price of an exclusive from Kanto.
Lorelei explored the island as she grew older and less frail, starting around the age of ten. Having consumed books to pass the ceaseless time, she was already a wiz at environment and Pokémon idiosyncrasies. The forests, the beaches, the near shallows—all too interesting, the way each teemed with habitants suited for the ecosystem by various means. But the place that most fascinated her occupied the island center: the nearby Icefall Cave. Four Island and the rest of the Sevii archipelago were tropical, but the sheer population of Ice-types inside the cave generated and sustained a whole biome with glaciating temperatures. Lorelei bundled up and traversed this tricky terrain, slipping and sliding plenty, more than once met with a close call. Many times she abandoned the journey and started again days later, sometimes weeks. It was scary as sin. But wherever the path gave way to sloping ice or a sudden drop into frigid waters, there were wild Pokémon willing to lend a hand. There were dimwitted Slowpoke, clumsy Psyduck, bubbly Horsea, Tentacool floating and Zubat flitting throughout the cave. Shellder, Krabby, and Staryu lived in the tide pools lazing about. And when the going got toughest, frolicking Seel and their calmer pinniped evolution, Dewgong, hauled over to Lorelei’s side and whisked her ashore. The Four’s loneliest little girl laughed and played, learned the cries and assigned the names of individual denizens within the icy hollow. She beamed. Never had anyone discovered so much fun.
Lorelei noticed too a waterfall gushing inside the cave entrance, but the initial freedoms and feelings of home to be found in the cave’s lower levels stalled her assembling the conviction to investigate it, much less to ask a resident Dewgong for the necessary lift. She had to win the trust of the cave’s Seel family first, something earned inadvertently when one of the Seel pups fell into water and Lorelei dove in after, in time for both of them to be saved by a powerful Dewgong swimming up from the deep. Her recklessness, promising hypothermia, drove this patriarch Dewgong to bring her up the waterfall and to the back of the Icefall Cave, which turned out not to be much of a cave at all. Instead, the frost-laden walls opened onto a huge sunny cove, glinting white ice kept adrift by the Pokémon populations’ energetic might. Amid the lighted waters and bergs floated the cove’s warden, a primordial blue serpent with a rotund build. Wet and shivering, dried and laid out in the sun in temperatures achieved by a fusion of cold and heat, Lorelei smelt the ocean breeze, coughed, and came to. She recognized her savior that day as the same Pokémon that as a doll slept beside her each night and woke with her every morn. She befriended and caught this noble Lapras—as well as Coldsoar, the patriarch Dewgong—and lived the rest of her days thankful to have them at all.
“His name at home is Lapras Lazuli, because the color blue was the first I saw when I opened my eyes and looked at the sky that day, then at him,” Lorelei said, and next held up her doll. “This is Lazuli II. The first one was Lazuli, Jr. They’re all one happy family.”
“Jynx!” the attendant Pokémon concurred. Lorelei leaned in to nudge cheeks with Jynx and laughed.
It turned out Lapras Lazuli was one of a kind on Four Island, indeed in the whole archipelago. When asked about his birth family, he simply looked out to sea, in the direction of no landmass Lorelei could find on a map. She felt for him, and she wanted to see if the other Lapras couldn’t be found. Then her old man died of a sudden cold, and that was that. In the aftermath, Lorelei found nothing and no one tying her to dreary little Four Island. She assessed the situation, and after consulting the cove’s Pokémon and leaving Coldsoar in charge, the future Ice Mistress packed a bag and rode Lapras at dawn into the breaking ocean spray. They’d see together if they couldn’t find family out in the world beyond.
Lapras as a species had been hunted almost to extinction for its meat and shells, but Lorelei and her partner kept searching even in light of the facts. They sailed the seas and made tours of whole regional coastlines, running errands for locals, merchants, and fishermen while replenishing their supplies at every stop. Lorelei asked about Lapras pods in environments ranging from industrial parks to jungle beaches, coming up invariably empty, at most with a suggestion of the next place to go. She found no Lapras in snowbound regions either, surprise, though the ice fishers told their tales, of a water spirit blessing their lakes with sea life enough to get them through the winter months, some Pokémon lost to age-old myth. Lorelei blessed them too, Lapras Lazuli caroling across the village proper, before she took off with generous donations, well-wishes, and a warm smile to boot. She was glad to have helped.
Some time later, long after departing the Four, Lorelei found her first Lapras pod out in the open ocean, a foursome. The world’s waters grew just a bit that day, filled in the great red eye of the sunset with joyous, sparkling tears.
They never did encounter Lapras Lazuli’s family, but there were Lapras pods waiting for them at the far corners of the globe. Lorelei saw these scant herds to their destinations without brooking interference from ships or predators, fighting off poachers with coordinated attacks from the Pokémon she caught on her journeys: Slowbro, Jynx, Cloyster. The adventurers also discovered many hidden breeding grounds after Lapras Lazuli communicated in song the true character of his overly excited jockey. Lorelei had the time of her life, and a good many Lapras had theirs as well. The species rebounded from extinction and fed in abundance on fish worldwide. In time, Lorelei unwittingly made herself a marshal of the sea lanes with some renown. She’d been at it all on her own for years.
“My exploits at sea are actually what earned me an invite to the Indigo Plateau,” Lorelei told Misty, who was absolutely rapt. “They called me up out of the blue. Ironic, I thought, that I left the Four only to rejoin the Four. But the members at the time—Bruno, Agatha, Lance—they appreciated my love for Pokémon. They believed I was a great candidate to greet challengers and test their mettle, see if they had the virtues to become Champion. They also liked how easily I could make ice puns, which helped lend an intimidating air to the battles ahead if we kicked them off like so. Not to mention theatrics were a hit on regional TV. More funds for the Pokémon Association and more for yours truly.
“But as the years went by, challengers came and went, and I progressed through my twenties… Things fell off. I was sort of like you.” Lorelei gestured, and Misty blushed and broke eye contact. “What the Elite Four were to me, I had wished to see them as a family. Uncle Bruno, Aunt Agatha, and Cousin Lance. I was paid and provided for. But all I did with any consistency was sit in my room, read books, and play with the Ice-types before welcoming the odd challenger. I was quiet, but also quite full of myself. Like you said about your situation, I had all this energy built up from conquering the aquatic world and bringing a species back from the brink and nothing to use it on. That was when I first thought about leaving the Elite Four, though I still held out hope that maybe things would change.
“I’ll be honest. The Elite Four were fortunate not to have to step in when Giovanni was outed as leader of Team Rocket. His defeat at the hands of Red came so quick we had no time to react. We were grateful someone other than us was out there, able to save the world and raring to do just that—I was, at any rate, maybe because that meant a strong trainer was coming our way.” Lorelei looked at her friends outside, then at Jynx. Both human and Pokémon nodded in sync. “Misty, it was a rush to have not just one but two champions beat me. It reminded me of the potential for greatness out there in the world, and the realization of that potential. On some level, I’m sure you experienced that feeling five years ago as well.”
Misty nodded. “I was privileged to play a part in what went down, Lorelei. Never in my life, I would say, had the Gym Leaders been so inspired.”
“It’s good to hear the sentiment shared. I dare say, anyone in Kanto who didn’t feel changed by the actions of Red and Blue—they missed out.”
“What happened after Red beat Blue to become Champion?” Misty asked. “What happened to you?”
“Not long after the ceremonies ended at the Indigo Plateau,” Lorelei said, reaching for Jynx’s hand and squeezing it, “I heard Team Rocket had a base set up in the Sevii Islands.”
Misty adjusted in her chair. “What? I didn’t know that at all.”
“If their antics two years ago are news to me, consider this news to you.” Lorelei made a somber smile. “And it was news to them when we said Giovanni had disbanded the group. Of course, we had to fight them and prove we meant the facts as such, but till then the units sent to Four and Five Island had quite a racket going.”
“Who’s ‘we’? The Elite Four?”
“Ah, no. It was Red and I.” It was Lorelei’s turn to blush, though somehow not happily. “Red handled the situation on Five Island, and we teamed up to run Team Rocket off the Four.”
“Well, that’s no surprise. Wonder Boy strikes again.” Then Misty had a thought. “On Four Island, did he need your help?”
Lorelei sighed, deflating beneath the weight of her doll. “Actually… I’m the one who needed his.”
Her recollection of events on Four Island harrowed her to the quick, and for Misty some things started to make sense, like Lorelei’s retching earlier. Team Rocket had been kidnapping Pokémon to sell from the Icefall Cave, mostly the rare Seel. Lorelei caught wind of things and rushed in, only to be backed into a corner. The admin in charge of Rocket’s Four Island unit happened to be a capable strategist who also had the benefit of sheer numbers. Coldsoar was wounded by the drill of a grunt’s Rhyhorn, Lorelei’s other Pokémon fainted, and she was separated from Lapras Lazuli. What broke Lorelei, though, was watching Lapras struggle vainly against his attackers, who’d lassoed the saurian and tied him down with additional rope. The admin’s Magmar, an array of Fire-type moves at its disposal, countered Lapras’ attempts to freeze anyone, and in his damned fury Lapras decided to deep-freeze everyone, unleashing a Blizzard the likes of which Lorelei had never seen. Had she known Lapras was capable of such awesome power, she’d have told him to lock it away from his mind such that he forgot the attack and never learned it again. Though Magmar and its trainer were fortunate to escape harm, the wind iced everything else: the cove, cavern walls, Rocket grunts and their Pokémon, the Pokémon in the cave at large. Even Lapras himself suffered frostbite from the attack’s lunatic temperatures, and only the grace of Magmar’s flaming fists battering him afterward kept him from succumbing to it. Through all of this Lorelei screamed and cried, hidden behind a boulder and peeking out only to see carnage and chaos, her best friend both merciless and mercilessly being punished for his insolent rage—the picture chilled Misty with how it reminded of Vaporeon earlier. Lorelei thought she was done for when the blizzard hit, rushing her cover like a storm surge—only for steaming flames and water to repel it at point-blank range. She turned to find a boy had climbed the waterfall behind her, his Charizard and Blastoise beside him ready to clean house. Silent, he nodded to her, precluding all thanks, and with his forward step bade her get up. Lorelei did so, Lapras was freed, and the rest was inevitable, including the damage done.
In the end, Red had his Charizard knock out Lapras as a safety measure. Suffering from burns and apoplectic anger, Lapras had presented a hazard only the total reset provided by a Pokémon Center could fix. Lorelei understood, though horrified she was. What was left of Team Rocket fled save for those humans and Pokémon with frozen and frostbitten limbs, whom Charizard worked to thaw before the authorities received their haul. Afterward, the heroes counted their losses, decided next steps. There were casualties and profits that day, innocents thrown to the crosswinds of illegal trade. To Lorelei’s dismay, the population of the Icefall Cave had dwindled by half. Most of the missing were Seel. Lorelei claimed she’d been torn about people almost from the start, and the day’s atrocities had certainly set her back.
The Ice Mistress shook and sobbed throughout the story and was at times inconsolable. Still, Misty patiently heard her out. Lorelei was at pains to relive the tale but grateful to see it through. Misty could only assume the first time was never easy, no matter how stolid the person nor faultless the character. We all had some dam built up within us that sooner or later would burst, unleashing the murky waters it held back.
“I returned to the Indigo Plateau,” Lorelei continued, “but not all of me. It felt like I was missing a part of myself after that day. A few months passed with Team Rocket truly vanquished, and Lapras didn’t get to battle in that time, though it wasn’t because no one strong enough made me send him out.” Lorelei glanced out back and sniffed. “If I’m being honest, Misty, I was scared to let him out of his ball, much less to see him fight. He went absolutely berserk in the cove, and I was scared it would happen again. Likewise with Coldsoar and the injuries he suffered. I had no idea what they’d do if put in another difficult situation—so I made sure one didn’t happen.
“Was it right? I really don’t know. I thought Lapras posed a threat if I sent him out in battle again, but maybe I was too scared to let him prove me wrong. Coldsoar too. How did they feel about it? The questions ate at me until I’d had enough. That’s why I left the Elite Four and came back here.”
“For your own sake,” Misty said.
“For everyone’s sake.” Lorelei nodded. “Time mellowed us out, helped me find answers. I defaulted to Four Island because it felt like something was calling me back. I’d left things unfinished in the cove, I thought, the Seel population ravaged, and the lack of Team Rocket’s presence may have eased my mind but not my soul. Even now, I’m still unsure at times if I made the right choice. On this island I’m largely isolated from the world, and every now and then I wonder if I’m still sane.” She laughed and again looked around, taking in the Pokémon and trappings with which she’d surrounded herself. “But I like to think I’m getting closer to what I want, day by day.”
“What is it you do now? What do you call the video lessons you create?”
“Well, though I’m still a celebrity, I like to think of myself as a private public speaker. I’m reading, teaching, protecting my island and living a healthy life, but above all I want to raise and inspire the next generation. I’m reaching hundreds of thousands of children I try to speak to like it’s one-to-one. ‘You’re important, and this is important too. Let’s have fun with it, yeah?’”
Misty smiled. “You’re exactly what Kanto needs.”
“Maybe. I do what I can.”
“You mentioned you’re protecting the island. How so?”
“Every way I know how…” Lorelei shook her head. “I check in daily with the cove Pokémon, see how they’re doing, look for any problems to fix. I train in the cave every now and again. Mornings, it’s a run or a swim around the island with my Ice-types, maybe a Lapras joyride too. And then I see the islanders and tourists when I go into town. Outside of teaching, that’s more or less my life. Maybe things get routine around here, and like you with Cerulean, I feel like I owe the people and Pokémon for continuing to welcome my solitary self. But, above all… it makes me happy.”
Misty was surprised. “You said earlier you left Four Island because you had nothing here. What changed?”
“Nothing,” Lorelei said. “It’s how I changed that made all the difference. Caring for the people and Pokémon of this island reminds me of what it was like saving the Lapras. Happiest days of my life, seeing and experiencing the world, but for one simple reason.”
Misty leaned forward. “Which is?”
“I was doing it with my friends.” Lorelei smiled and looked down. “It doesn’t get any better than that.”
How many times Misty had heard Lorelei and other veteran battlers make similar declarations, speeches dedicated to what she’d long considered some utopic ideal. She’d preached the dogma of partnership herself if only because it sounded cool. Shackled to her gym, Misty had tried to believe it, wanted to believe it, and regularly received and rubbed the scars of her self-doubt. But to hear Lorelei’s unfurling life story, see the vision embodied in all its happiness and hurt—that was something else. To wit, Lorelei was a fragile, passionate person who cared for things deeply, people and Pokémon and dolls as well, quite the contrast to her popular persona—and the resulting complexity was beautiful. Her story awakened something within Misty, a feeling all the more prominent when Lorelei put her plush Lapras on the table and stood from her chair.
Before Lorelei could say anything, however, there was a glass-scraping, a keening at the patio door. Misty looked—Vaporeon was begging to be let inside. Jynx admitted her and the feline sprung to Misty, head buried in her trainer’s clothes. Only the more did Misty want to cry. Everything was proving Lorelei right.
“So,” Lorelei resumed, “you came here for a reason, Misty. You want my thoughts on the matter? Forget the excuses and rationales. If you want to leave the Cerulean Gym, go ahead! If you want to do more than you’re doing now, do it. People will understand and friends will support you. I guarantee it. But it all starts here.” She put a hand over her heart. “My question to you, then—how do you want to get out of your shell?”
Misty was surprised by how Lorelei had put it to her, as if the outcome were certain, but the answers that came to her were many. To leave Cerulean City, to travel to new regions, to fight and defeat strong trainers. To make sure her friends, she thought while caressing Vaporeon in her lap, had fun. They swam and surfed together now, but she knew the gang needed and was capable of so much more. Do it like the Johto kid, she thought, do it just like the pest. The world loomed wide if only you took a shot.
“Well,” she said, “I suppose I’ve kicked things off by coming here. It’s the first leg of a winding journey. But, before I go…” Misty stood and hefted Vaporeon, then nodded at the Pokémon out back. Across the room from Lorelei, she took a PokéBall from her pocket and flipped it, caught it with a smirk. “Let’s give our friends a battle they won’t forget.”
After suiting up, the two trainers made for the cove’s glittering sands, following a trek through the icebound sanctuary Lorelei had extolled so much. A new generation of Seel pups yelped and plashed at them, humans waving and giggling, Vaporeon taking the silliness quite for a threat. Misty apologized to Lorelei and the wild Pokémon and chided the cat about her behavior, but the Ice Mistress saw instead that the kids were going to be alright. They shared, they cared, and like their Pokémon they were ready to hit the ground running, setting off a chain of unfolding experiences imaginations wide. Lorelei smiled. It was thanks to that sense, she was convinced, that children ever grew at all.
Their battle, set amid a field of wobbly ice and coruscating blue, the shoreline a golden horseshoe around, was formal and fairly wrought. Lorelei only kept five Pokémon, so from their respective stables the trainers each chose three. Their Ice- and Water-types then traded concussive blows, smashed bergs and sent breakers up and down the land. Starmie led off with several Water Pulses, voluminous splashes mixed with fast-spinning physical attacks. Coldsoar felled the starfish with a well-placed Signal Beam, only to be finished himself by the electric strikes of Misty’s Lanturn. Cloyster emerged next, terrifically impervious to Lanturn within her armor, and destroyed the battlefield’s ice with a chaotic fusillade of spikes from high on the shore. Lanturn was helpless to evade, his namesake glowing antenna visible for miles even in the worst conditions. Cloyster’s projectiles pounded the water into vibrant spume until Lanturn bellied up, gasping at air. However, Cloyster dipping into the water to clamp the angling Pokémon out of his misery proved a fatal act in itself, as playful Lanturn flipped alive and fried her with a Thunderbolt point-blank. Lorelei returned Cloyster to her ball and with a grin lamented Lanturn’s cheekiness, which apparently had fooled even Misty. Lorelei was fired up, down to her last Pokémon. It was a pity things had to end so fast.
“Wow, Misty!” she yelled across the water, Lanturn clapping adorably-mockingly in the middle. “You were right! I’m having a hail of a time.”
Misty groaned audibly, Vaporeon preening in her arms. “I sea what you did there!”
“Icy what I did there, too!” Lorelei couldn’t help herself, given the first chance in forever to go all out. “Ah, but here we are, the former Ice Mistress of the Elite Four with her back against the wall. You know what comes next, right?”
Misty laughed. “Shore I do!”
“Nice one! You ever thought about joining the Elite Four, hon? I’m sure you could take Will’s spot with the strength you have now. With your puns it’d be like I never left!”
“Duly noted! But why join the Elite Four when I can ice one of them right now?”
“You’ve got some mouth, kiddo. And here I thought we were just shooting the freeze!” Lorelei retrieved her final PokéBall while Misty observed the puns were slowly krill-ing her right now. “I knew this could go either way, Misty. Anything can. Thrills and chills. But I’m afraid nobody beats my ace in the hole. Lapras, let’s go!”
The saurian appeared high and dry, singing, and commenced chilling the seawater instantly, his trusty Ice Beam nudging Lantern into the depths. When ice covered most of the battlefield portion of the bay, Lapras broke off, and Misty had Lanturn quickly leap through. He zapped Lapras where the behemoth perched with a super-effective hit, but most of the charge ran off in the sand, into which Lapras with his flippers had already dug. Lapras fired another Ice Beam in return, sealing the hole Lanturn had plunged back into. The Pokémon played an icy game of whack-a-Diglett together, Lapras freezing every other hole to goad the angler on until Lanturn either determined to take a different approach or ran out of Thunderbolts; Lorelei to her annoyance had lost count. Then Lanturn popped up and fired an Ice Beam, and she had Lapras counter with one of his own. This happened again and again, beams colliding and canceling out, until Lorelei had Lapras advance onto the ice. He charged a Confuse Ray, sliding on ice so thick Lorelei thought Lanturn must not have seen him coming and jumped right into his path. But then the electric wonder discharged again, incredibly, and golden light exploded in the faces of everyone around. When Lorelei could see next, it wasn’t so much smoke as a hazy, illusive film which had bloomed in the air, remains of the Confuse Ray, both Pokémon having fallen through the ice and taking their sweet time underneath. The trainers yelled and jockeyed for better views until they surfaced. Lapras, though bruised, bore a dazed and defeated Lanturn securely on his back.
“Great work, buddy,” Misty said, returning Lanturn to his ball. “Rest well.”
Lorelei nodded. “I’m sure he’ll make an ice recovery—but seriously, wonderful job. He’s a crafty little fella.” She took a breath and stood akimbo in the shade of a palm. “Now then, who’s next if not the illustrious Starmie? Kingdra? I don’t know. Kingdra doesn’t resist Ice-type moves.”
“Oh, if only. And believe me, I have an ace Pokémon I almost went with. Monstrous, that one. But this battle’s special to me.” Misty set Vaporeon down, then pulled a PokéBall from the other side of her jacket and passed to her dominant hand. “Let’s see how you do against an opponent whose life you’re responsible for.”
Lorelei’s heart jumped. “Bring it on.”
The second Lapras came out and plunked through the ice, bobbing, a veritable giant. He cooed upon seeing his clone and vice versa, the two trading melodies in different keys. It seemed they were happy to see one another, happier still to duke it out. Lapras Lazuli belted a note and lowered his head, matching singular, tapering horns with his saurian double. He glanced at Lorelei and whistled brusquely. Hers was his every move.
Lorelei cracked fingers, cleared her throat. “Misty. You challenged me and fought well. For that and so many other things, I thank and commend you. But you cannot and will not triumph without possessing a bond that cannot break. You, your Pokémon—I see you grounded in the present by the force of your own convictions, in the future walking together among the beasts of legend, but only if you vanquish me now. By the might of Lapras, my steed, and our battle-proven bond, I’ll test you. And come hail or high water, we’ll know if you gave it your all.” She threw out a hand. “Now then! Caution to the wind!” She laughed, her smile spreading from ear to ear. “Let’s see who really gets iced!”
These speeches were always for effect, but Lorelei was tickled to know that with this one she meant every word.
PokéDex screenshots © Pokémon Database, 2008-2022. Pokémon images & names © 1995-2022 Nintendo/Game Freak.
David Metta 