Bestia: an ancient energy that allows Pokémon to use their powers. Lucca Aska is a plucky Brionne raised as a hero in a world devoid of Bestia, where Pokémon must use weapons and armour to survive. Destiny has chosen Lucca and five other outcasts to...
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"I hate this, I hate this, I hate this I hate this I hate this!" Lucca shouted. The young Popplio was trying to hold a sword that was twice his height, but he couldn't stay upright for more than a second. With a growl and a roar, he gave up and threw the weapon down. It clanged on the hard, red ground.
"This is stupid. If I'm going to be a hero, then why am I using a sword? Who gives a Popplio a sword?" he shouted at the top of his voice.
The silence of the mountains answered him. Hollow wind, a grumbling lava flow in the distance, and the rumble of his stomach. Everything had a nasty, wine-red colour besides the valleys and holes littered all over the place, where streams of lava could be seen. This lava was blue, and even sent blue embers into the steamy air.
Tall mountains to his sides shielded him from the easy view, but if he went any further, he would go out into an open wasteland where barely a dead tree could be seen. Out there, predators wouldn't hesitate to strike. He took a deep breath and crossed his flippers.
"It's cold, there's been no sign of anything, this is taking long, and I'm so hungry," he groaned as he sat back. "Stupid Dad, stupid weapon, stupid training, stupid—"
A few pebbles crumbled beside him, and he flinched. He shut right up and his heart began to race, but he forced himself to focus. He spun to stand up straight and used the handle of his sword to balance. If he held it straight down, he could stand on his tail flippers and not fall over.
He kept silent as he slowly stepped around his sword to scan the area. Nothing moved but the wind and the greyish red clouds above. He looked to where the rocks could have fallen from, and focused his sight on that ledge.
Alright you. I know you're there. No point hiding from me now, he growled in his mind.
Moments passed, yet nothing moved. He knew better than to give in to impatience during a situation like this. He was being watched, and the moment he showed a sign of weakness, his stalker would attack. He needed to get out of here, or at least be ready for their attack.
Just as he began to edge his way back up the slope, a strong breeze hit, chilly enough to stop him in place. He shielded his face as he searched for the source, though he found nothing, still. After it stopped, he turned to the left, then the right, then behind him, and back up the slope. He couldn't spot anyone.
He held his breath. The thing he was looking for had drifted right in front of him so casually that he didn't notice right away. The papery body of a Kartana, blades bared and folds stretched out, floated out of reach above him. It remained silent, so perhaps it hadn't realised that he'd seen it. It brought both blades together, pointed them forward, and then dove towards him.
"No you don't!" Lucca growled. With a shout and a cry, he spun to build momentum and swung his sword, and just barely managed to clash with the Kartana. The impact jolted them both back and his sword flew out of his flippers. He fell on his back, but kept his eyes on the Kartana the whole time.
