Paragon

Origin Child [8]

PARAGON

Origin Child Arc [8]

Chapter 8 : First Assignment

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Unova Region, one year ago

Pine needles and cragged ice crunched beneath Ash's boot as he hiked through the forest atop the Twist Mountains. Here, there was nothing. Only a few pokémon made their home at such a high altitude, but none were strong enough to challenge Ash, and they knew it, so they stayed away. The sun cut through the hoarfrost-laden evergreens, moistening the ground throughout the day as the snow turned to slush.

Lucario padded beside him like a silent sentinel, shooting glares at the Beartic and Cryogonal who peeked out at them from afar, asserting his dominance. The aura rippling off of him warmed Ash as they walked, and he sweated beneath his many layers. As usual, Lucario refused to leave Ash's side, even for the most menial of tasks.

But despite his protectiveness, Ash's body ached from the rigorous combat training the jackal had been putting him through daily. He was making progress, but even after a year, they were still on the basics. A sturdy foundation is the basis for all martial arts, and indeed, all endeavors, he'd said, and Ash was certain he was just repeating something he'd heard back at Cameran Palace. Nevertheless, he could feel himself getting stronger, and as the weeks passed, his movements became faster and more polished.

Samurott and Gengar were exactly where he'd left them, guarding a simple blue tent and smoldering campfire. Gengar perked up at his arrival, but Samurott made no reaction, simply skulking back into the forest now that his protection was no longer needed.

Samurott had changed after evolving. His formerly cream-colored shells were now an unnatural bruised shade of purple, close to black, and his horn was jagged, and tinted red. And he held none of the mirth he did when he was an Oshawott. He tolerated none of Gengar's pranks anymore, and the ghost seemed to be getting more and more stressed out the longer he went without new prey. Ash had spoken to a few of the professors he knew, but none of them could explain the cause, so as was his style anyway, he'd decided to figure it out himself

But that was an issue for another day.

"How is he, Gengar?" Ash said, kneeling down beside the campfire.

Gengar let out a series of gurgling murmurs, slumping in dismay as much as a levitating ghost could.

Upon a small blanket beside the embers of the campfire lay Pikachu. Twisted gashes crusted over with dark scabs covered his body, and he lay motionless, eyes closed, with naught but soft, barely audible breaths to indicate life.

Ash cringed. It had happened almost a week ago, but the sight of his partner in such a state never got easier to look at.

Gengar began babbling, his tongue flopping around his gigantic mouth, as he gesticulated. Noxious spittle flew from his mouth, but he made no attempt at stopping it from spraying his master. He was angry.

"I know, I know I'm being reckless," Ash said, wiping his face with his sleeve. "But we said at the start, no pokémon centers. Pikachu would never forgive us if we broke our promise. And he knew something like this was inevitable before we set out. We all did. And we're getting close. Here're the oran berries from the bushes we saw the other day," he said, emptying his palms onto the blanket beside Pikachu. "They're frozen, but they should still hold some nutrients. While I mash them up, get the fire going again please, Gengar."

They'd been trying to defeat the same pokemon for over a month: an Onix in the depths of the mountains who the miners of old dared not disturb. Of course, the accidentally-created entrance to its lair had long been sealed and restricted by the League, but it made the perfect training partner for Pikachu, so they'd found another way in. It was nearly triple the size and length of any other of its kind, and it was so old and powerful, its skin was dark like obsidian, and smooth from years of burrowing through the Twist Mountains' hardened bedrock.