Interlude – Iron Islands I

Interlude – Iron Islands I

INTERLUDE - IRON ISLANDS I

Cecilia had to admit it, Canalave city looked like a nice place to live in.

It was not like her usual favorites in Castelia or Jubilife— massive metropolises with urban sprawl as far as the eye could see— but it certainly had a charm of its own. There was something about the maritime way of life here that was so endearing, and it reminded her of the piers in Castelia, only a much smaller version of them. The streets were paved in a beautiful pattern of light and dark grays, and no asphalt roads were to be found here. Instead of buses or trams, people traveled up and down the city through their public ferry system, which was another point in their favor.

But it was the bridge that linked the two halves of the city, that Cecilia enjoyed the most. Unova had always had a thing for bridges. While they did link the entire region together, they were also more than that. They were a symbol of unity. Bridging dreams, cultures, innovations, and lives together. Six bridges, but all united in one purpose. It sounded good, and it certainly made for excellent dressing, but Cecilia knew of the rot that delved if you looked at Unova long enough. She had always known, but only now did she think it was an issue that needed to be fixed. Rot should be cleansed from the whole.

Cecilia checked the time on her phone as she felt the tinge of saltiness in the air with Slowking and Croagunk by her side. The fighting type was punching the air with glowing fists in an attempt to build up her stamina, trying not to laugh at Slowking's silly jokes. Since the raid on the Pokemon Mansion, she had been training day and night without a day's break, even though Cecilia had tried to have her slow down. She was, however, progressing leaps and bounds with Scyther's tutelage. The soft sound of the waves would have been relaxing, should she not have every trainer who passed stare at her. The news of her murder had followed her far, it seemed. The loss of reputation bothered her, as much as it pained to admit. She had never been one to care much for what people thought about her, but a good reputation could be leveraged, and she had lost that advantage, possibly forever. Everyone knew Cynthia killed people, but no one had ever gotten footage of it. It was all about image. It was one thing to theorize and talk about how Cynthia dealt with criminals, and another matter entirely to see someone disintegrate a man's head with Dragon Pulse without flinching.

Yes. That was how she had killed. And the second time was nowhere as difficult as the first.

She raised her head and exhaled when Chase finally turned the corner with two drinks in hand.

"Catch," he yelled.

"Wha—"

Cecilia brought her hands up, and although she made contact with the drink, it nearly fell to the ground. Slowking wrapped it in a neat psychic bubble and raised it back to her.

"Did you have to throw that?" she sighed, staring at the juice box. "What even is this?"

"Grapefruit," he grunted.

"Chase, I hate grapefruit."

He scoffed. "What the hell is wrong with you? How does someone hate grapefruit? It's literally a fucking fruit. It's sweet."

Right. Only Grace knew things like that.

Cecilia clicked her tongue. "It has that weird acidic aftertaste— you know what, never mind. Let's swap. You have a different flavor."

"Whatever."

Chase hadn't really needed to find her, since they'd been going in the same direction regardless. He had popped up yesterday night, having just reached the city a few days after she did, and finding which Center Cecilia stayed at these days was as easy as looking up her name online. She appreciated his presence, still. He helped her not get lost in thought about the Voice or Grace.

Ah, I thought about her again, she sighed. Cecilia hated the way they'd left things, but she had needed space— and still did. Still, she couldn't help but worry. Had her meeting with her mother gone well? Had she met Mesprit yet? Were her therapy sessions going well? How was she doing without her— and was it as suffocating as Cecilia felt? She had wanted to ask all of this. Call, speak, do anything together, so long as she heard from her, but this was a conscious decoupling. The pragmatic way to look at this was that they would be better off learning to spend time without each other. Their last real interaction together had been... somewhat heated, with Grace having tried to minimize the horrible fact that Cecilia had used the Voice. Cecilia had known that she had just wanted to make her feel better by saying that it had been to protect them, but it had done the opposite.

But still, it wasn't like they... couldn't text at least a few times. Grace had just never even messaged once, so Cecilia thought she was doing well enough. Or that she no longer needed her, and that was a mortifying thought. Not even once, she had texted. And she was strangely silent in their group chat as well. The only reason Cecilia knew of her well-being was because Denzel had told her that his parents had seen her in Twinleaf for a few days, and they were not happy about it.

Should she text first, then? Would that be odd? Would she be annoyed? Was Grace still angry at her? I don't want her to hate me—

"Stop brooding about Grace," Chase said. "Seen you do it too many times, and I've only been here for a day."

"You don't get it," Cecilia muttered.

"You're right, I don't," he shrugged. "I don't get this dating stuff, really. But you won't talk to me about it, so I can't, so honestly, that's on you."

"How much longer until the ferry?" she asked, ignoring him.

"An hour and a half," he said. "Wonder how your therapist will follow you this time. Think he'll be on the boat?"

Cece would have smiled at that, weeks ago. "Possibly. It's not like he's that conspicuous."

Chase snorted. "Conspicuous."

"What? It's a word."

That was a lot of time to burn. The ferry to the Iron Islands only ran twice per day, once in the morning and once late in the afternoon, and they were taking the morning one to have as much daylight as possible. Surprisingly, Chase had no longer been hesitant about it when he found her, asking her to go to the islands right away instead, like he was ready, now. Cecilia admired her friend, in a way. He was the only one who had come out of the Pokemon Mansion in a relatively alright mental state, and he was mellower now than he had been.

"What're they saying about you in your country?" Chase asked, trying to change the subject.

Probably awful things, Cecilia thought. Not that she would let that stop her. She had already been branded a puppet of Cynthia, so nothing she could do would rescue her reputation.

"Oh, I haven't looked, believe it or not. I can't handle that many problems at once..." she answered.

"Right. Sorry. Okay, then, what the fuck is it with you and grapefruit?"

This was going to be a long hour and a half.

—

Cecilia leaned against the ferry's railing as the warm wind fluttered in her hair. Already, they had passed multiple islands, but this boat only stopped at the central and largest one, which was, according to Chase, the only island where one could lead a somewhat decent life in the islands. It was no Canalave, but at least it had a Pokemon Center and proper hospital. Reaching the Iron Islands without a ferry was actually illegal, because Sinnoh's government wanted to log each entry into the island and each exit too. It served the same purpose as those Ranger Stations that flanked Eterna Forest, the entryways into Mount Coronet and Victory Road, except there was no lesson to be had. It was simply a way to track who was going into the relatively dangerous environment.

Or which Iron Island denizen was going out.

They still had a while to go to reach the central island, which according to Chase was named Fisher Island. Not a very unique name, but at least she knew what to expect when they reached the place. Cecilia reentered the basically empty ferry and found Chase on his knees facing his seat, where his Wimpod was squirming about excitedly. It was... cute, really. He babied his Wimpod very much, even if he pretended not to. She hadn't even had her first battle, since Chase wanted to 'make sure she was ready'. With how slow he was being with her, she wouldn't be ready for the Conference in time, but maybe that was fine.

"Am I interrupting something?" Cecilia asked.

Her friend flinched, and Wimpod screeched, jumping on his back and desperately trying to crawl under his shirt despite being far too large to do so. Chase quickly recalled her and glared at Cecilia.

"In my defense, I had no idea she would get scared at my voice," she preemptively said with two raised hands.

"Arceus..."

"You, of all people, cannot criticize me for a lack of tact, Chase," Cecilia said as she sat down. "Still, I'm sorry. It looks like you were having a good time."

"Take whatever you saw to your grave," he said, half-jokingly. "How's the view outside? Did you see Anvil Island? I always thought it looked cool as a kid."Fịndd new updates at novelhall.com

"You didn't stay in Falkirk your entire life?" Cece asked, suddenly intrigued.

"I did, but my Dad had pictures of some funny-looking islands he'd been to. Being shaped like an anvil is pretty cool if you ask me." How childlike, Cecilia couldn't help but notice. "I guess I did go to Fisher Island once when I got really sick, but I don't remember it much. I used to get sick all the time, back in the day."

"I did see a really flat island— more than what I thought I'd see, in this archipelago," Cecilia said.

"Oh, that's probably Sandy's Key," Chase shrugged. "It has like, a hundred people on it tops. Can't really sustain much more, with how small it is."

Cecilia paused. "You really do know every island?"

"Obviously. It's home," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Got any more questions?"

He was actually eager to talk about it, too. Cecilia wasn't as good with people as Grace was, but she was not bad by any means, especially with her friends.

"So this place is a part of Canalave, right? They say Byron was born here and used to be a miner."

Chase's eye twitched, and he laughed dryly. "A few years in Oreburgh, and Byron forgot all about us. Dad said that he promised a lot when he left, you know? He crawled through the mud every day like all of us, and it was the first time someone from the Iron Island got to such a position. Gym Leader of Oreburgh. He stayed there for years, and he promised he would put pressure on Sinnoh to change stuff. Teracore operates in Oreburgh's mines too, so we thought he'd be able to put some pressure on them and have them change the way they do things."

Cecilia frowned, guessing at what happened next.

"Nothing changed beyond some empty gestures. It's always the same, really. Empty promises," Chase muttered as he stared through the window at the endless ocean. "I know now that he probably really did want to change stuff. Why else would he become Gym Leader of Canalave after so many years spent in Oreburgh? Closer to home, and this time, the Iron Islands would actually be in his jurisdiction."

"Power comes with its own bindings," Cecilia said.

"He got in there thinking he'd change everything and got a dose of reality, I bet," Chase snorted. "Even back when Cynthia hadn't democratized the country, Gym Leaders weren't all-powerful and had to wrangle special interests, and Radetic had his fingers in a lot of pies."

Cecilia frowned. "How'd you learn about this? Not that I'm calling you dumb—"

"You better not," he grunted. "I've just been researching stuff. You know, to get ready."

Cecilia leaned forward. Had she finally found someone to speak about statecraft with? "Did you figure out anything?"

"I did. The clean-cut way of doing things would be to grant the Iron Islands independence from Canalave and to make it a full-fledged part of Sinnoh," he concluded. "That way, we negotiate with the mining companies. We set the terms. Not some bureaucrat sitting hundreds of miles away in a cozy office who never set foot on a single island."

"Negotiations, then. I thought you would employ more brutal methods as Champion."

"Well, I'm not going to be the Champion any time soon, right?" he admitted, possibly for the first time. "Gotta start small. Organize, and stuff. Make this matter. Of course, it's going to be hard without Canalave's subsidies, but we could negotiate something with the federal government. I could also try going for Gym Leader position, but I'm not planning on working in some crummy Gym for a decade and licking Byron's boot so he picks me as a successor when he retires. He picked his fucking son for Oreburgh, and you know what happened."

"They say Roark made Maylene look like an angel, early in his tenure," Cecilia said. "He desperately wanted to show up his father and bulldozed every challenger that came through."

"He used the correct Pokemon, but he fought for real," Chase nodded. "He'd let wins slip through after trainers knocked their heads against him a few times, but if your instincts were worse than his, there was no way you were winning on the first try. It's a wonder he was never recalled."

"Not a wonder," Cecilia smiled. "If he hadn't been Byron's son, he would have been fired by the League. There's no way they would have let a random Gym Trainer stay in his position."

"Nepotism's the bane of my fucking existence," he spat. "Anyway, Byron fucking sucks, no matter where he comes from, but I'll wait until I'm in a position to make change happen to judge him fully."

"How level-headed."

"I'm super level-headed. You just never bothered looking."

"You did, I recall, call me overrated Unovan trash when we first met."

Chase snorted. "Water under the bridge, right?"

"You're lucky I'm so forgiving," she said, finally cracking a smile. "When we get to Fisher Island, how do we get to Falkirk? Another ferry?"

"They haven't even rebuilt the town, Cece," Chase shook his head. "Don't think they ever will. We'll have to fly there. It's fine now that they know we're in the Iron Islands. I know the general direction, but I'll get us a map just to be sure."

"Sonja."

"Sonja. That Steelix who destroyed Falkirk," Chase said as he dragged a chair to sit on. "Was it spotted recently?"

"It was. Some fishermen saw it nesting out of the mountain's crest while they were looking for Magikarp, Goldeen, and Remoraid," she said, turning to one of her customers. "Right? Anders?"

"Had its head hanging out of the mountain and everything," the man nodded as he smothered a cigarette. "It claimed the entire island as its turf. Won't let anyone try to rebuild."

That sounded like a domain in the making, given a few decades. Though according to Grace, Hatterene had told her that another Pokemon already had set up shop here and was the reason the iron never ran out. Could there be domains within domains? Could Pokemon share domains? The implications were endless, but she had no answer.

"The miners angered it too much, now it doesn't want to let anyone back on," someone else spoke up. "Fuckin' Teracore."

"Ain't that right," another man laughed. "Cheers to that."

"Cheers!"

"So most of the time, it's underground?" Chase asked.

"Most of the time, yes, but a Steelix that powerful can feel anything walking on the island. Kicked out an entire expedition of sailors we sent to attempt to rebuild on our own," the barkeep muttered before smirking. "Why? You planning on getting revenge for us? Gonna shank the fucker?"

Chase let a joke about stabbing through metal pass, then shook his head.

"No. I want to pay my respect to the fallen."

Cecilia expected anger, but there was a twinkle in the woman's eye. "Maybe they do raise you right on the mainland."

"I was raised here," Chase challenged.

"But you've lost your touch," she shrugged. "Talk like 'em, now. All prim and proper. Look at your gal. One step with us common folk and she looks like she's about to pass out."

Cecilia's face twisted with indignation, but Chase raised a hand to stop her from talking back and before Scyther could hiss and flash his teeth, though he did anyway, causing the bartender to pale.

"She's not like the others," he said. "She's also a friend, not my anything. So you shut your fucking mouth."

The woman laughed as color returned to her face and she turned to her clientele. "He's got a mouth on him too! An Islander, born and bred! Want something to drink? Both of ya."

Apparently, that had been... good? There were a lot of cultural differences here that Cecilia didn't get. Chase asked for whatever they had while she asked for cold water. Instead, she got lukewarm water that still had a slightly salty taste to it, and she decided not to drink any more of it. Chase, meanwhile, got beer while being underage. Cecilia knew that he normally wouldn't have drank any, but he indulged himself this time.

"Any words from the Rangers?" Chase continued.

"They're too busy keeping the mainland safe. Got word from Canalave that the price of reclaiming the island from Steelix wouldn't be worth the cost at the moment."

"Never worth the cost when it's for us," Chase said. "And no Ranger can take that Steelix down without help from the League. I'd do something if I could, but I'm not strong enough yet, I'm afraid."

"Can't you call them... what do they call those? Conference-goers, or whatever," someone said, eliciting a few laughs. "Have 'em beat that Steelix."

"It's probably stronger than even those," Chase said. "But either way, the Conference is something else entirely. Most people who make it there have never stared death in the face in any serious capacity anyway. They'd shit themselves before going to face down a wild Steelix."

"Heard you were chummy with the government, though," Sonja said.

"Chummy's one way to put it. I've already asked for help multiple times. They have other priorities, at the moment."

"Obviously," she spat. "Any other questions, son of Urie?"

"You wouldn't know what moves or techniques Steelix is capable of using, would you? In case it tries to attack us."

"Moves?" Sonja laughed.

"They tell us to watch for Rock Slide or Rock Throw down in the mines," another man spoke up. "Don't know much about battling, son."

"Don't worry about it, you've been plenty of help," Chase said. He downed his drink and grimaced. "Arceus, this tastes like shit."

"Tastes like home, though, doesn't it?" Sonja grinned.

He paused, then smirked. "That, it does."

They left soon after that, although Chase paid a lot more than the actual tab and told them to keep the change. Cecilia kept Scyther out and about. She'd never seen Chase in his element like this, and it had been like he'd been another person. No, it had been like he'd been himself, but fuller. Like she'd peered through the potential he actually had. Already, the people in the bar were probably speaking his name, and it would spread further than it already had.

"They didn't know much about you or what you looked like," Cecilia said. "I thought they would."

"News spread slowly through the islands," Chase shrugged. "And they have a lot more to worry about than watching Pokemon battling. Notice how few trainers there are here?"

Cecilia nodded. "I thought it was odd."

"It serves two purposes. One, it keeps us down in the mud. If one of us ever got strong enough and had ideas, then it'd be bad for the people running this show."

"Teracore," she muttered.

"They own this place," Chase said. "Not in name, but they do. Byron was an anomaly, and they got to him before he could do anything of note. Two, it keeps us ignorant and makes us disdain the mainlanders, because we're other. Notice how they hated you when you walked in?"

"They were also staring in very inappropriate ways," she angrily said.

"Were they? Shit, sorry. Want me to go and beat 'em up?"

"I figured you didn't notice. It's alright, they stopped when I released Scyther anyway."

It wasn't alright, but the last thing she wanted was to have Chase start a fight with his own people when the current situation had so much potential to be seized.

The bug type fanned his wings and shrugged.

"Anyway, we hate the mainland. Not knowing jack shit about Pokemon battling keeps us isolated, and hatred is a powerful tool. Ignorance, though, that's the main purpose. Some people have radio here, but almost no one owns a television or a mobile phone, and being interested in battling is seen as a shameful, foreign thing. I never wanted to be a trainer until I figured something needed to change around here. I thought I'd just be a miner like my old man, or a fisherman. That I'd either die from straying too far from the coast or too deep in the mines. Or I'd get crippled for life."

Cecilia nodded. She had seen those too, while walking the streets. People who had been grievously wounded on the job, now wasting away.

"You have an opportunity here," she said. "To spread your name in all of the Iron Islands. To become the most famous man here since Byron, decades ago."

"That's not the goal," he said. "That way of thinking will turn me into just another politician."

"But it'll help you gain leverage," she pushed. "To reach your actual objective. A voice for the Iron Islands that people can't just ignore. When you gained more influence, you could..." she gestured widely. "I don't know, organize a strike or something. Keep the people organized and fed through donations, if you use your fame to call on the rest of the region to help. No one knows how bad it is here, Chase. They don't ever talk about this on the news—"

"I know that," he spat. "I— know."

"So then it should be the goal. There's an opportunity here. I'm not telling you to do it now, but at some point, you'll have to grab it. With the Voice, you'll have so much leverage that the government will be inclined to listen to you."

"I get it. Now fuck off."

Cecilia's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, I guess."

Her friend brought a hand to his forehead and sighed. "I don't want to think like that, Cecilia. I don't want to be... one of them. The people who see this as some sort of game and not people's lives. They'll suffer if I go through with this. Every time there was a strike, they ended up only losing."

"You're already playing the game. Here, take your plan for independence. Think it'll be any easier? Even though Canalave gives you enough money to keep you afloat, but not enough to actually improve your lives, it'll get worse before it gets better. It's a course of action to achieve your goals, and it's just politics."

"It fucks me up, you know," he sighed, suddenly turning toward her. "The fact that I see what's been done here and I get it. I hate it, but I fucking get it. Sinnoh's iron mines are the most productive in the entire world because we have an endless supply here. No one has to do prospecting, aerial surveys or whatever the fuck it is they do to find new ones. We just keep mining the same spots over and over and shit out more iron and ore than multiple countries combined. And it's like, when did I start thinking like this?"

"I get it. I really do. But thinking it is one thing, Chase. To beat your enemy, you have to know them and how they think. And you have to hit them where it hurts."

Chase's leg stopped bouncing— she hadn't even noticed he has started— and he sighed. "Well, I'll be fucking damned. I guess I will."

"We're the same, you and I," she said, grabbing him by the shoulder. She'd grown a little taller than he had, now, by slightly less than an inch.

"Yeah, only you'll have to do on a region-wide scale what I'm trying to do in a localized area," he said. "Good luck with that."

It was not a sarcastic remark, but a genuine one.

"Now, this Steelix," Cecilia said. "What exactly is the plan to stop ourselves from getting killed?"

"If it comes for us, I'll use the Voice and buy us enough time to fly off," he whispered. "But I'm hoping that two people instead of a full expedition won't anger it too much. You keep yours for your dragon."

"I didn't tell you I'd use it," she said.

"But you want Zweilous to evolve during our stay here, don't you? To get them useable before the fight with Byron."

"I do," she acknowledged.

"So either you'll have to most likely give up on the Conference because risking using Hydreigon in a Gym will be insane," he said. "Or you'll have to use the Voice and figure something out."

Giving up on the Conference? Not an option. It was meant to be her stepping stone. A place to show how powerful she'd grown to Unova and to arrive there with the wind in her sails. Without it, she would arrive humiliated.

Cecilia's lips thinned. "Why don't we go train? Clear our heads for a few hours?"

"Sure thing."

"Maybe Wimpod and Croagunk can have a fight," she smiled.

"Absolutely fucking not," he growled. "She's not ready."

She was smiling. Walking like nothing had happened with Chase and Scyther by her side.

But inside of Cecilia's mind, gears started turning.