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A Lesson Hard Learned
PART ONE: PRE-CERTIFICATION
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Noteworthy Students
"The name of the game is Field Medicine," Mr. Martin Fremarin announced
to his class meaningfully, making eye contact with as many of his students as
he could, while he said these words. As he continued, he finished sizing up the
pupils in this class-group.
"While a Poke`Center is often within twelve hours of any given point
on most of the main routes in Ifaenn, there are enough exceptions to make this
course mandatory for the receival of the Continental Trainer Certification."
He smiled solemnly and added, "Not to mention that you show you
intend to be prepared to care for your poke`mon in emergencies; the sign of a
loving and honestly concerned trainer."
He noted that a murkrow haired boy in the second row rolled his eyes,
apparently in response to the word 'emergencies'.
'He fancies he's going to be a 'streaker',' the fifty-ish man
thought to himself knowingly. (Streakers are talented and powerful trainers who
run battle-winning streaks of over ten in a row, consistently.)
He made a mental note to keep an eye on that boy's reactions. And a
second mental note that he might be fortunate to get very many from him. That
boy ~ Caimnas, if he remembered correctly ~ was watching him with half-lidded
disinterest.
To be fair to the boy, he wasn't the only one. There was a girl in the
third row on the far left side, who was already settled into her seat quite
comfortably ~ despite the fact they were designed to discourage snoozing.
But Martin recognized that her inattentiveness and general slouching
posture were the results of a late night. Ms. Gammetine was having her course's
final test end-week, and the most panicky students were restudying that
course's highpoints already. He would have a word with the girl and set her
mind at ease; the test on Ifaenn's geography was not mentally taxing, if one
had taken good notes during the course.
And there were a few others that looked as though they were indulging in
mental wanderings, but he gave those a few minutes to come into the classroom
in spirit, as well as body.
For the most part, the eyes of the twenty students were fixed on him, and
he forged on for their sake.
“‘Big deal' you might say," he suggested with a shrug of his
shoulders. “‘Trainer Technology development has produced the Medi`Ball, good
for up to forty-eight hours'. Yes, 'up to!' "
He turned slightly to his left, and pointed at a 'Dex-poster hanging on
the wall to the right of his students.
"To illustrate: the wailord, a species resident to the Hoenn coast,
is one of the largest poke`mon known today. Take a critically wounded male ~
the larger gender as the rule ~ and the function maintainance rating charts
published by the makers of the Medi`Ball claim only an hour and a half! And
that is with only a fifteen minute margin of safety," he stressed
carefully.
He leaned back against his desk and selected a computer printout from
among several he intended to use in his class today. Lifting it up and waving
it at his students, he held what he was going to say for a moment, and called
on a boy in the fourth row.
"Yes, Eginn?" he acknowledged with
a slight nod of his head.
Eginn lowered his hand quickly, and asked hesitantly, "Couldn't a Medi`Ball
be sent to the nearest Poke`Center with a flying type?"
Looking pleased, Martin pointed at Eginn and asked the rest of the class,
"Does anyone think what of that idea, one way or the other?"
Three hands shot up immediately, and he called on a redheaded girl called
Crizanne.
"I think it would be quicker," she
blurted out.
She was sitting next to the murkrow haired boy, and he gave her a look of
guarded contempt.
Crizanne saw it, blushed slightly, and continued bravely, "Um,
obviously ~ But I think it would be riskier, too."
"Quicker but riskier," Martin summed up, with an approving nod
at the embarrassed girl. "Quicker is simply quicker. Any ideas on the
increased risk involved?"
A blond boy and his twin sister, sitting together in the front row, both
raised their hand, and he V'ed his pointer and middle fingers, to indicate they
both could answer.
The girl, Melina, went first. "Stormy weather would nix that method
for fire types like a charizard in heavy rain, and an electrical storm would
rule out flying types in general, anyway."
"And even in good weather, flying types are very territorial,"
her brother, Melvin, added thoughtfully. "Wild poke`mon have been known to
engage domestic and especially tamed ones, in battles over trespassing issues;
good reason for the offense or no."
"Two good examples of the risk involved," Martin confirmed, and
reached for another printout.
He held it up and said, "Jessica would you please read the bold heading
aloud to the rest of the class?"
The brown-haired girl he made this polite request of, was sitting in the
front row, and had already read that bold print. Her eyes wide, she read it
aloud:
“‘Cuttacross Town Police Department,' " she quoted.
"And the next two lines under it,"
Martin prompted her.
“‘Summary Report to the Department Chief.' And the second line reads:
'RE: 1120's for the Month of May. Case Tally ~ 7.' "
Jessica took a breath and ventured with a quirked eyebrow at her teacher,
"What are eleven-twenty's?"
Martin's manner became grim. "The Cuttacross Police Chief, O'Rarin,
tells me it means 'poke`mon reported missing and presumed stolen'."
A hand shot up in the back row before he could expound, and he called on
its owner, a taller brown-haired boy named
"And how many of those were Medi`Balls lost in air transit?"
Not the least chagrinned by the boy's correct assumption, Martin replied
slowly. "Technically, less than fifty percent, but the flying types that
went missing with them are really part of the whole deal. So, say, eighty-five
percent."
He noted the shocked looks of disbelief on some of his student's faces,
and the righteous anger evident in others. Caimnas didn't seem to be phased.
"And that is during one month, in the jurisdiction of a larger town,
just last year," he stressed meaningfully. "In reply to an N(et)M(essage)
I sent to the media spokesperson for the Bureau of Ifaenn Continental
Authorities: Poke`mon Theft Division, I received the startling, continent-wide
figures for three years ago. According to that report, over fifteen hundred
Medi`Balls containing injured poke`mon, went missing or were confirmed by
eyewitness reports, to have been stolen."
He set the second sheet down upon his desk where he had taken it from,
and added darkly, "Those are the figures from three years ago; just two
years after Medi`Balls started rolling off their precision production lines,
and into the hands of grateful trainers."
His face lifted, and he asked with dry cheerfulness, "Do any of you
have a treasured poke`mon you would risk in a little experiment? We'll send it
in an unengaged Medi`Ball to a southern coastal city or town by poke`mon air,
and expostulate on its odds of arrival."
He was thoroughly dismayed but not very surprised, when the murkrow
haired boy raised his hand, just then.
"I hope you have a question,
Caimnas," he warned the boy with a slight frown.
"Oh, I do," the boy responded smugly, as he fished in his right
trousers pocket for something.
Martin's frown became more pronounced, when Caimnas's hand reappeared
holding a poke`ball, and he asked sarcastically, "Were you wanting a
volunteer?"
His teacher ignored the inappropriate question and its badly out of place
humor, and lifted his originally selected printout, once more waving it
theatrically.
"I believe you all will consider this further point another strike
against the Medi`Ball, as I do," he announced, with a sharp look at the murkrow
haired boy. If anyone in the class were more likely to debate his next point
with him, it would surely be Caimnas.
"This printout shows the going market price for the Medi`Ball, at
every retail location of the three biggest trainer supply chains; Bandy About ~
Non-Trademarked Goods; Packer ~ Trainer Outfitters; and the Hausenwar
Poke`Marts."
He cleared his throat loudly and allowed, "Now, I'm sure all of you
are aware that Medi`Balls are expensive, and doubtless, some of you know just how
expensive." He chuckled dryly and remarked, "But I am confident that
I can open all of your eyes."
Martin then read a dozen statistical lines from the printout. The store
locations mentioned varied from right in-city, to the southern coast ~ in
Bobbin and Surfsup ~ and west to
He viewed the two locations he quoted the price from in Import, to be the
coupe`de`grace, and finished there.
He lifted his eyes from the printout to his class, and saw mostly heads
shaking in disbelief. One jaw was dropped wide, and even Caimnas had his eyes
closed ~ Martin fancied with chagrin.
'Thought you could get a good deal on them in Import, didn't you?'
he accused the boy silently. 'Well you can, but they'll either be stolen
goods or duds off the assembly line."
That printout went back to the desktop, and he selected a third. It was
several sheets stapled together, and he flipped the first two up and over, to
the third page.
"These are a few of the documented claims of product failure filed
against Poke`MediCorp. since they began to market their 'landmark
innovation'," he announced. "I will read just one claimant's
statement, and the outcome of the case. This one, concerning a Master Emile
Bevelinni, was filed two months after the first Medi`Ball was sold publicly."
He cleared his throat as was his habit, and began to read: " 'The Claimant
does lay claim that a product under warranty by Poke`MediCorp. did fail ~
namely a Medi`Ball ~ and resulted in the death of his cherished poke`mon, a
darrigen ~ one Glowey by name ~ upon the seventeenth of October last.
“‘The aforementioned product was used in accordance with the
aforementioned manufacturer's instructions, and was therefore under full
warranty at the time of its failure. Should Investigation of these claims prove
the aforementioned claimant to be in the right, he does hereby also lay claim
to a full reimbursement and additional damages in accordance with the grieving
loss the aforementioned failure did cause him, to the amount of thirty thousand
narii.' "
Martin stopped there, about halfway down the
page.
"I know it's written in flowery legal jargon, but I'm sure you get
the gist of it," he told the class in a confident voice, as he moved from
leaning against his desk, to the 'information' board hung by the classroom's
doorway.
He tacked the stapled corner of the pages to the lower right hand corner
of the corkboard, and then stood there looking at the other-wise empty thing.
He was wondering which of the students would break the silence and ask for any
details he intended to give.
He hadn't heard the sleepy girl, Amanga, speak yet, but the yawning
quality of the voice that he heard to his right, left no doubt in his mind that
it was her.
"Did he win his case, Mr.
Fremarin?" she prodded him respectfully.
Martin turned to face the class and looked at her thoughtfully.
"Does anyone know exactly what it was I just read?" he asked softly;
it was a challenge to their comprehension.
Stanley's hand went up immediately, and he thought silently, 'That one
is indeed teacher's pet material.' He had been informed by several of the
other teachers, about
He refrained from calling right away on him, though, in favor of giving
someone else a chance to venture a correct view ~ or an incorrect one.
Martin fixed an expectant look on Caimnas, and held it upon him. Caimnas
met his gaze evenly for a moment, then peered around casually to see if anyone
else had their hand raised.
He saw
Still looking intently at Caimnas, Martin inclined his head indicatively
at
When Caimnas turned back to his teacher, it was with a 'have it your own
way' sneer on his face, and he raised his hand to answer the question.
Perhaps he would have given a straight answer, possibly even a correct
one, Martin Fremarin admitted to himself, but he wasn't going to call on any
student in his class that wore such a sneer.
"You had a thought,
Caimnas had his hand raised stubbornly still, as Martin waved in a
dismissive gesture at him, and turned his attention to
Stanley looked uncertainly from his teacher to the back of Caimnas's head
and said carefully, "I think Caimnas really wants to answer, Mr. Fremarin."
"With all due respect to your powers of observation,
He made an encouraging gesture at
Caimnas's hand fell to his desktop, and his sneer became a furious scowl
at his teacher, as Stanley began to answer, sounding reluctant:
"I think that bit you just read was part of what they call a 'Filing
of Claimant's Intent'. It's basically a warning to the sue-ee, that there is
something he, she or they should get their lawyer onto."
"Correct in sense if not in use of terms," Martin confirmed to
the class. "And at that point of filing, the prosecuting attorney is
dependant on his client's word as to the force of the case against the intended
defendant. It is the investigation of the facts, before a hearing between the
two parties or their representatives, which determines whether or not the case
will proceed to court, to be tried before a Legalities Judge."
He tapped the printouts on the information board. "To answer your
question, Amanga," he continued slowly, with an acknowledging look at her;
"Mr. Bevelinni's first case did not pass muster to go before a Legalities
Judge. The precursory investigation was short and bittersweet. It was revealed
that he had not bought the defective Medi`Ball from an 'approved, warranty
activation dealer'. In fact, he had purchased it from an employee of
Poke`MediCorp. who was selling them at reduced price through the Continental
Networking System. Hence, as the warranty was not in effect, and in fact the manufacturing
company had not sold the product to a profit, the claim was withdrawn. The
embarrassed attorney for the prosecution admitted he had not done his homework,
therefore he had jumped the gun without a solid case to run with."
He paused, letting it seem as though he was going to continue in a
moment. But he held his silence for ten seconds, and would have longer, if
Elaina in the back row had not raised her hand.
Martin smiled to himself as he called on her; he had seen
"Yes, Elaina?" he queried the
platinum blond mildly.
"You said 'first case’," she
observed. "Did Mr. Bevelinni file a second?"
"He did indeed," Martin replied, looking pleased. "Mr.
Bevelinni re-filed under different claims to re-imbursement and damages, but was
only rewarded the re-imbursement by the judge that considered the case. His new
claim was negligence on the part of the Corporation to dispose of or reprocess
the defective products with secure oversight on them during that phase; and
also failure of the company to screen their employees according to the proper,
BPA approved procedure, before hiring them. Apparently, the crooked employee
that sold him the Medi`Ball, had a previous record with the BICA."
Martin Fremarin allowed himself a breath, and stepped back over to his
desk to lean against the front of it once more, and then he continued.
"The judge granted him the re-imbursement on the negligence angle.
It was brought out by the attorney for the defense, that while an ex-convict
was more likely to, there was no guarantee that any employee hired without a
record, might not have stolen from the company, with full intent at resale."
Martin realized he was getting more off-track than he had planned to, and
decided to wrap it up.
"The full results and repercussions of Mr. Bevelinni's second filing
were; The Poke`MediCorp. gave him a generous re-imbursement and a sympathy
donation for the loss of his darrigen; the case drew the attention of the
Business Procedural Agency, and they fined the PM Corporation rather heavily
for improper screening procedure and lightly for their slack watch on their
rejected products."
Martin stroked his mustache. "Needless to say," he added
grimly, "Mr. Bevelinni did not get his beloved darrigen returned to him in
good health ~ which is the purpose of the Medi`Ball."
Caimnas had been brooding during his teacher's entire speech, and it was
apparent that he was no longer going to hold himself back from making some
comment, when his hand popped up again.
"You have something relevant to ask or add, Mr. Toutin?"
Martin inquired of him meaningfully, with a stern look.
"Actually, it's a question of relevance," Caimnas
replied with a contemptful twist of his lip. "I thought this class was
supposed to be on 'Field Medicine', not the evils of the Medi`Ball. All we've
learned so far is that you don't think they're worth a plugged half dergee!"
"Well, if any of you intend to swear by the Medi`Ball," Martin
responded significantly, "then I have nothing you would consider of any
value, to teach you."
"And what I think," he corrected Caimnas carefully, "is
that dependence on the Medi`Ball is dangerous."
He went on, speaking to the class in general. "This course in Field
Medicine will give you the knowledge and a great deal of the training you will
need, to cure, center-prep, and in extremely serious cases, stabilize your
poke`mon for commitment into a Medi`Ball. This course became mandatory because
of recommendations made by the Poke`MediCorp. itself. The effectiveness of a
Medi`Ball is heightened and potential strain on its system is lessened, if your
poke`mon goes into it in a stable condition."
Martin's manner became slightly apologetic, as he announced openly,
"I have only intended to make you aware of its limitations and its
drawbacks; its 'cons', if you will. I feel you should decide for yourselves
what its 'pros' are."
"Yes,
"I think you did a fine job, Mr. Fremarin,"
There was a general nodding of heads and affirmative murmurs, and Eginn
spoke up and announced, "I know I'll think long and hard about whether or
not I'll use Medi`Balls, Mr. Fremarin."
Martin didn't feel he could let Eginn's choice of wording slide, so he
chose to clarify his point.
"Remember," he cautioned his class, "my point isn't that
you should not use Medi`Balls, but that you should think about how and when you
use them. I don't knock them off of the shelf and into the trash receptacle.
They are a wonderful, favorable leap forward in the Trainer Technologies field
and in Poke`mon Field Emergency Equipment."
He grinned widely ~ an action that surprised his class ~ and confessed,
"I've used them on four different occasions myself; one of them being a
tandem usage. I highly recommend carrying one with you at all times on your
Journeys."
Mr. Fremarin set his gaze upon Caimnas and asked mildly, "Does this
satisfy you as to my intentions, Mr. Toutin?"
He got the sense from the boy's answering glare that he would have gotten
up and walked out of the classroom, if this course wasn't mandatory for the CTC.
"By your own admission, you have nothing
to teach me," Caimnas said instead.
He winked and added, sounding almost amiable, "But if you don't
mind, I'll stick around and learn something anyway."
Martin didn't like the first part, but the second was just the sort of
thing he would take and make himself happy with.
"Don't twist my words to use against me," he warned Caimnas
sternly. Then he amended freely, "But I will also say it's good to hear
you have an open mind."
He wasn't entirely sure Caimnas did have an open mind, but he had
never failed to be pleasantly surprised at the effectiveness of suggestion in
the classroom.
Martin Fremarin, presiding over his class in room L03, outlined the
high-points his course in Field Medicine would touch on in the next three
weeks. Then he went on to describe the planned instruction lessons and field
training sessions the students before him would be having with a nurse at the
local Poke`Center.
All the while he spoke, he knew that Caimnas would pay close enough
attention, so as to pass the written and field tests. What he didn't know was how
much the boy would take to his heart.
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The next day, Mr. Fremarin dived into the meat of his course, after drawing the class's attention to a message he had chalked neatly on the blackboard behind his desk: 'Take GOOD Notes.'
"Part of your evaluation score will be affected by the quality of
your notes," Martin explained to the class. "The better your notes
are, the more closely you have paid attention, the Evaluation Board believes."
He didn't like to believe any of his students would cheat, but he didn't
like the smug smile on Caimnas's face, either, so he added lightly, "And
to make sure there is no cheating, the notes you take every day will be turned
in to me before you leave the classroom and after the hands-on training sessions
with Nurse Northen."
If he was any judge, Caimnas's smile was now an unnaturally fixed one.
The boy had certainly blinked in a 'Curses! Foiled!' fashion.
Martin noted that Stanley already had the notebook provided, on his desk
and open, and he was writing something in big block letters with his pen, on
the inside cover of it. He would find out what it was at the end of today's
class, but he suspected the conscientious boy was copying down the three
watchwords on the blackboard.
'That boy is going to go places and be things,' he told himself,
and then began his dissertation with impassioned animation: Martin Fremarin is
quick ~ if you should ask him ~ to confess that he lives his subject.
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An hour and a half later, the bell had rung, signaling the ten minutes
the one hundred students ~ currently enrolled in the school ~ were allowed, to
switch mental gears and classes.
"Twenty notebooks on my desk, please, and enjoy your next
class," Martin called loudly, as his students stood and stretched, or
gathered their things.
He couldn't say 'used notebooks' ~ one of
them hadn't been.
He sat behind his desk and watched the small sea of his class's students
flow forward and deposit the objects of his request upon it before him. He smiled
at each student and paid them compliments where due and encouragement where
needed.
Martin couldn't decide if he was surprised or not, that Caimnas was sixth
or seventh to drop off his notebook. In his experience, the rebels liked to be
first or last, not just another face in the crowd.
"Would you remain for a moment, Mr. Toutin?" he said mildly, as
Caimnas almost literally bolted for the classroom's doorway. One of the boy's
sneakers squeaked as he applied the brakes, well underlying his full head of steam.
The murkrow haired boy moved a bit to his left, and slouched defiantly
against the far right border of the classroom blackboard.
Watching him, Martin saw him stick out his tongue at Crizanne as she
passed, and she paused and said with a smirk, "Grow up, 'Mr. Toutin'!"
Caimnas gave her a sour look and then ignored her. She was happy to
reciprocate, and turned her nose up at him in a hysterically elegant fashion,
as she continued out of the classroom.
It proved to be Stanley who was last in line, and again, Martin couldn't
decide what to think. Most star pupils he ever had, were exactly the opposite
of the trouble-makers, were more like those that really struggled; they would
usually try their very best to look normal and blend in with the rest of the class.
It turned out; Stanley
had something he wanted to say.
With an uneasy glance at Caimnas,
He blushed lightly and confessed to Martin apologetically, "I sort of
have a problem with writing, Mr. Fremarin."
His teacher was surprised at the embarrassment attached to this
admission, and said encouragingly, "You are a very eloquent speaker, Mr.
Flajince. You might be surprised how many such 'word wizards' have a hard time
putting their thoughts in order, on paper."
Stanley Flajince blushed a little deeper and responded hastily, "Oh,
it's not that. I just have...um..."
His voice trailed off, because he felt Caimnas's intent gaze upon him;
the boy's ears were practically flared with interest at what
"Well, you'll find out," the on-the-spot boy concluded, and
moved for the doorway at a much more appropriate pace than Caimnas had, a
minute earlier ~ even though it could be considered he had more of a reason to
run.
"Just one thing,
Stanley turned back to his teacher without hesitation and queried
respectfully, "Yes, Mr. Fremarin?"
"It is muster, not 'mustard',"
Martin corrected him dutifully.
Caimnas hadn't caught that slip-up in speech on Stanley's part when he
had made it, but now he began to laugh uproariously at his classmate's expense.
To his credit,
"Sorry, Mr. Fremarin," he apologized, then informed Martin
carefully, "I had never heard the word 'muster' used like that before, and
somehow mustard made sense to me."
He frowned and then explained, "I'm a little
hard of hearing in both ears, too."
"Then I will be extra careful to stress my main points for your
benefit," Martin announced accommodatingly.
"And if there is anything seriously remiss about your notes,"
he added in a voice of kind consideration, "I'll be sure to let you know
and work with you to improve your efforts, in future."
He shied away from Caimnas ~ who was glaring malevolently at him ~ and
left without a backward glance at Martin.
His curiosity aroused by
It became immediately clear what
"Oh, Mr. Flajince," Martin murmured, as he studied the telltale
lettering on page one. "Nothing to be ashamed of; just one more thing for
your gifted mind to master." He had little doubt that
He closed the notebook, aware that Caimnas was trying to sneak a peek
into it, and said stiffly, "If you think Stanley's little slip-up was
funny, Mr. Toutin, you should step outside of your shoes and take a look at
your situation; it's quite a sight to see a boy boiling, who doesn't realize
it."
Caimnas could only look at him dumbly, unsure obviously, just what his
teacher meant.
"You are in very hot water, Mr. Toutin," Martin spelled out to
him, with a hand moving to the boy's empty notebook and flipping it open to its
blank, first page.
"I am only required by the school Board to say this once," the
field medicinal teacher began, speaking slowly and quietly, "and with your
present attitude towards this class, you can expect no reminder."
He wasn't entirely sure, but he fancied the boy shrank into himself a
little. Destined to be 'hot stuff' or not, he wasn't going anywhere for another
two years, if he didn't get his CTC.
"Taking notes on this course is required, Mr. Toutin,"
Martin told Caimnas, with the proper stress this information deserved. "If
you take no notes at all, then you fail to qualify in the Percentile Rank
Section reserved for the evaluation of them, and you will be flunked out in
front of the rest of your peers at the Granting Ceremonies, in two months."
He went on to explain exactly what he meant. "You may have achieved
the impossible, perfect score across the board in all the other courses, but if
you fail to note the date and at least one appropriate observation on the
classroom and field studies, every day, your efforts elsewhere in this program
will prove to have been for naught."
Martin had the satisfaction of seeing Caimnas blanch at his outline of
the future's possible course, and he turned his attention to Crizanne's notes,
before he finished.
"And I refuse to inquire if I have made the situation perfectly
clear," he stated flatly, "because your eyes were locked on mine, and
I know your ears work properly."
Caimnas moved discreetly to the doorway, turned in it, and said with
almost-but-not-quite sarcasm, "Perfectly clear, Mr. Fremarin."
Martin allowed himself a satisfied smile, as
the boy beat a hasty retreat.
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The next day, Martin had a word with
But
"Well, as I am a teacher," Martin responded carefully, "it
is my duty ~ and I would consider it more, a privilege ~ to help you with your
'problem'."
Martin smiled in return, and watched
He set this problem aside for the moment, and noting that Caimnas had his
notebook open like the rest of the students, Martin began his lesson for the
day.
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PART TWO: GRANTING CEREMONIES
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Fulfilled Expectations
Caimnas had turned out to be very proficient at taking notes on his classes
with Mr. Fremarin, and had scored well in all the other required courses.
Martin supposed it was more in the way of the boy's thumbing his nose, but
notes were notes, and Caimnas certainly qualified with the rest of his fellow
students.
The Granting Ceremony was two and a half hours long for the one hundred
students enrolled in the JC School.
Each course's teacher read a list of names of the students he or she
passed, and the called students came forward to receive the course's
certificate.
There were seventeen courses; six of them required without option, and
any four more to round out with ten total.
Over the last seven years, the Journey Certification School of Ifaenn had
held two terms a year of from ninety to one hundred and five students each ~
And graduated ninety-one percent of them.
This term had proved better than the yearly average; ninety-six of this
term's enrolled students graduated.
When his turn came to announce the recipients of his course's
certificate, Martin stumbled just noticeably over Caimnas's name.
The boy shot him an angry look as he stood to retrieve his certificate,
and Martin tried to make up for it by turning his head to actually congratulate
him over the sound system.
But nothing was enough for Caimnas obviously, as he watched the boy
snatch the certificate from the attendant, and return to his seat without
acknowledgement of any kind.
All of the other students in Caimnas's class
received the ICTC, as well as he.
The selecting of starter poke`mon had taken place the day before, and now
these were handed over to the graduates, along with a full dozen of Basic
poke`balls registered to their names and ready to be activated.
Memento bundles were also passed out, containing the five class photos
taken two weeks before, and some, special gifts from the teachers.
This year, Martin had a gift for every graduating student, as well; Hausenwar's
Field Guide to Poke`mon Healthcare and Emergency Medical Techniques.
He especially watched carefully for Caimnas's reaction to the Field Guide.
Unless he was mistaken, the boy was royally miffed; he certainly looked that
way.
Hovering nearby Stanley and his parents, Martin overheard the boy say
jokingly, "At least Caimnas won't look so backwards, now." He was
referring to his vision compensative glasses, and speaking with Crizanne, Eginn
and the Twins.
Ears ~ poke`mon and human ~ perked up all around Martin, as a School
Board member called him to the 'engagement circle'.
Martin, still watching Caimnas, saw him scowl at the announcement ~ assume
ably at the mention of his teacher's name.
People nearby who recognized him smiled and wished him luck, and
"Looks like I'm stepping in to get some 'arenair'," he observed
to
"I don't think I should, until Embler and I get to know each other
better,"
Martin took it smilingly and shook it,
knowing why the boy made the gesture.
"Mother tells me you suggested these glasses to her, and helped pay
for them," the tall brown-haired boy accused him with shining eyes.
"I know you are a really nice man, Mr. Fremarin, but don't think I won't
repay you."
"I would suffer any monetary loss for any student I deem half
worthy," Martin told him solemnly in response. He held Stanley's hand
longer than the boy had planned and went on further, his voice soft with fond
memories. "But I never have,
"Well, you have mine eternally. Thank you so much, Mr.
Fremarin,"
Martin was distracted as he responded; he saw Caimnas finally storming
through the packed crowd ~ and he was fairly sure where to.
"You're very welcome, Mr.
Flajince." He gave Stanley's hand a final squeeze, and let go. Then ~
looking anxious and sounding earnest ~ he added quickly, "May I trouble
you to use them for me?"
"My glasses?" the boy inquired,
blinking amusedly. "To see just what?"
"Follow our dear friend, Caimnas," Martin clarified, pointing after
the murkrow haired boy. "I fear that Field Guide he holds is bound for a
wasteful fate."
Without hesitation,
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
"He did it, Mr. Fremarin; the whole works went into the trash,"
"I took out the Field Guide, but I figure his notes are his to
throw." The boy saw his mother motioning to him, 'come hither'-ingly, and
he added, "Thanks again for the glasses. If there is anything you ever
want me to do for you...."
Stanley left the thought hanging, not out of reluctance to fully extend
the offer, but to show that he knew his teacher could fill the rest of it in ~
the unspoken conclusion was for emphasis; 'anything'.
And he did finish his freely made offer with the solemnly spoken words of
a promise: "I'll make sure and have my mother give you my
P(ersonal)M(essage) number, when my system is up and running."
He made to join his mother, but Martin put a
hand on his shoulder.
Stanley turned back without further
encouragement and his teacher informed him quietly, "There is something ~
a mission of mercy."
"I don't care; I'm wide open to suggestion," the brown-haired
boy assured him forcefully and then inquired with sincerity, "What did you
have in mind?"
Martin suddenly wished all over again, that
he had a son of his own.
{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}
FINAL PART THREE: JOURNEY
CERTIFIED
_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_
The Clearing
Caimnas was determined to lose his follower and he figured the
'It's probably that loser, Stanley,' he frowned knowingly. For all
of the brains the boy's test scores had suggested he possessed, it would be only
too predictable that he was sailing in the wake of a better trainer.
He didn't actually know, because his follower was clever about remaining
anonymous, but he would place money it was
Caimnas had been careful to visit all the right places in Dark
He looked down at his mintybrr, voison and fiante, as they all stood at
the edge of the
They knew better than to show how ill at ease they were, but he sensed it
in them anyway; the forest was known to give most poke`mon the creeps. And it
had nothing to do with the lack of light within it.
He expected them to 'walk' rather than 'ride' and they knew it, so the
three of them voted with pseudo-cheerfulness to travel in his wake.
Caimnas gave them a stern 'you had better' look, and then pushed through
the heavy foliage at the
His poke`mon were careful to stick close to
him, and remain behind him.
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
Caimnas's 'follower' thought of himself as a
'Watcher', a sort of a guardian angel ~ and he had watched Caimnas disappear
into the
Stanley only allowed himself to shake his head; if he stopped to actually
think about what Caimnas was doing, he was sure he would judge his classmate
harshly.
Beside him, his second shook her head too.
Crizanne had bumped into him in Farmer's Market Town, and being in on
Stanley's mission, she had joined him in shadowing Caimnas.
Regretfully, she was not so reticent to
comment on Caimnas's course.
"What is that fool doing, going into there without seriously amped
poke`mon?" she blurted disgustedly. "Didn't he hear what all the
people say about that forest?"
"Loud and clearly, I'm sure,"
She looked surprised. "I'd cut through there, I guess," she
admitted. "But I don't think he knows about us. He definitely strikes me
as the sort to try to confront, rather than outrun or scrape off."
Crizanne smiled at his tone of voice for his last point. "Is that
spite I hear peeking through?" she prodded him unmercifully.
She saw him grit his teeth ~ another uncharacteristic gesture for him ~
and he said softly, "I won't lie; Caimnas's attitude and his way of
thinking just brings out the worst in me."
"Well, whether he's actually worthy of our time or not we've
followed him for days and miles ~ you considerably longer than me ~ and we
can't let him lose us now," she pointed out. "So are we going to head
in after him?"
"I can guess on the 'shouldn't' end," Crizanne offered.
"Your own good sense says that if half of the stories we heard about that
place are true, we should stay on the main route to Thunderroot."
"We'll do both; in a way," the brown-haired boy told her decisively.
"We stay on the route and keep our ears open."
"If you mean 'open' for Caimnas's terrified screams," she
responded disbelievingly, "that doesn't sound like your normal
goody-two-shoes self."
{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}
Forty-five minutes later, Caimnas's three poke`mon team was spread
out in a small clearing beneath the thick canopy of the
There were scorch marks upon the earth, and the razor leaves thrown by
Minz his mintybrr and Voi his voison marred the nearby trees.
Thankfully, it had rained the night before; there were slow burning fires
all around, feeding slowly on the dark green growth of the forest floor. Nat
had used ember twice, but anyone could see that there were more fire attack
signatures, than one low level fiante could possibly be responsible for.
There had in fact been a one-sided battle in the close clearing ~ a fire
type with more ‘heat strokes’ than he believed was normally possibly had
attacked him. It was apparent to him now, that the stories were true; that
pitaval must have been Enshadowed.
Accompanying the fire type pitaval had been a grass type umpasi ~ the
last evolved form of the voison. It had stayed back until the very last, and
then struck at Minz as the pitaval withdrew. The pair of wild poke`mon had
departed together, and in no haste whatsoever.
Minz was not doing well, with heavy burns and poison contamination. Voi
and Nat weren't too bad, but they were beyond fighting ~ mentally shell-shocked.
Minz was his starter, and he refused to lose him, but will power ~ even
the strongest bonds of love ~ could not heal so critically wounded a poke`mon.
He had the love, but his lack of respect for the value of the Field Medical
training was finally going to cost him something he held dear.
He wondered how he could have been so stupid. 'There, I've said it.
I'm stupid as I ever thought anyone else was. But now I admit it and it doesn't
do any good right away ~ when I need it to.'
And what was worse, he had used two of the three Medi`Balls he carried
with him. Minz was apparently so badly poisoned that the varied antidote serums
the Medi`Balls contained weren't safe; the cure system wasn't finding a match
its programming was able to use with one hundred percent confirmed surety. The
two used Medi`Balls had burned out their power regulators trying to draw enough
energy to maintain Minz in his failing state of health.
And the normal, general cure Antidote serum he had purchased from a
Poke`Mart, wasn't touching Minz's condition either; he needed a specialized
cure.
All around him, there was vegetation that could almost certainly put Minz
on the road to recovery, but he had pride fully shunned the knowledge Mr.
Fremarin had tried to give him. For all the cautions one heard about the Dark
Forest, it was also well known for the healing herbs that thrived on the
quality of the light, as it was heavily filtered by the thick canopy overhead.
The Potion Masters of Thunderroot braved the
Down to his last Medi`Ball, Caimnas knew he had to cure the poke`mon's
poisoned condition to stabilize him for effective maintainance inside it. How,
he should know, but though he actually did, he couldn't recall.
He bent over the grass type starter closely, careful not to touch any of
the painfully scorched leaves, and sobbed apologetically, "I'm so sorry
Minz! I don't remember what to do!"
To his great alarm, there was a terrified hiss from his fiante behind him,
and then he heard the beating of frantic wings, as a flying type tried to pass
through the upper canopy somewhere above him.
Eyes wide with fright, he looked up, but could not see anything.
"Nat! Are you snapped out of it?" he demanded of his bug type
hopefully ~ he wasn't positive, but he thought he heard the poke`mon gulp.
[Yes,] the poke`mon responded shamefully, then apologized sorrowfully,
[I'm sorry, Caimnas.]
But Caimnas shook his head emphatically. "No blame but mine,"
he assured his poke`mon forcefully. He motioned upwards and inquired gently,
"Where did that flying type come from? Do you know?"
[It had been near us for some time, I think,] Nat replied uncertainly,
[before it left just now.] He still looked self-castigating.
Surprised at this answer, Caimnas ventured with subtle force, "You
mean it went up through the canopy? You're sure it wasn't trying to come
down?" He was daring to hope something that could be the case, was
indeed truly so.
[Yes; it was in the higher branches of that shorter tree.] The fiante
motioned indicatively with his head and mandibles towards a tree, which could
not be mistaken as tall in comparison with those around it.
'Watching us,' Caimnas thought. He looked back down at Minz and
amended silently, 'Please bring your Master...' Figuring he had begun
to, so why not continue to, he swallowed his pride again and finished, 'even
if it's
His poke`mon's life was on the line, so he wanted the best odds for its
survival. Thusly, he admitted something further ~ Minz's best chance was
"Especially if it's
{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}
He whipped up one of his poke`balls, even as Crizanne selected one of
hers. "What's on his tail feathers, do you think?" she asked
distractedly, as she searched the tree line above them for the poke`mon's
appearance.
"Probably a falcount,"
"It couldn't be a rednal, then?" Crizanne pressed him,
fingering her other filled poke`balls at her waist. "And couldn't he
handle a tailow?" she ventured further, careful not to sound scoffing.
"I would like to think so,"
"And so he can't take time to - There he is!" Crizanne pointed
farther up the route, and
"A red and a black!" he breathed amazedly, as he caught
sight of his lingoh's pursuers.
His thrumbir was now free of the poke`ball he had tossed skyward and he
shouted up to the poke`mon, as Crizanne loosed her choice to assist Grivin ~
her mizysprite. "Littlown, help Grivin." He pointed indicatively in
the lingoh’s direction. "Use flutter by and beak stab."
Noting Crizanne's choice, he added, "Go for the darjah; let Pritz
drive off the rednal."
His thrumbir took off to meet the approaching lingoh, and he called after
it, "And be careful!"
"You too, Pritz," Crizanne cautioned her water/ghost type.
"Have Grivin pass near you, and if that rednal doesn't veer off, use heavy
shroud on him."
Pritz acknowledged the command by thinning the fog of his mid-section,
and then 'he' rose from before his trainer, into the sky. It was a calm day, so
he drifted almost effortlessly in smooth stages towards Grivin.
Possessing the boosted powers of the Bedarkened Effects didn't make the
rednal any more of a fool or less reasonable; it veered off and took to the
And the darjah couldn't match the thrumbir's close-in maneuverability, so
after suffering several stabs of the smaller flying type's needle beak, it
followed after its partner, or perhaps mate.
Eyeing the spot in the trees at the forest's edge where the riled wild
poke`mon had disappeared, Crizanne couldn't help but smile despite her
tenseness, at the bemusing array of twitters Stanley greeted Grivin with, as
the frenetic lingoh alighted on his trainer's upraised, outstretched arm.
Littlown dropped down from above and hovered between her trainer and his
traveling companion, and Pritz was moving back with seeming sedateness, as
Grivin explained Caimnas's situation in haste.
Frowning with dismay,
He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose ~ as was his habit
when he was agitated ~ and noted that Grivin looked ill at ease. "You
don't want to announce yourself, do you?" he guessed insightfully.
The lingoh managed to look abashed even in flight, and answered honestly,
[Not especially. But I feel bad about my cowardice, and I'll suffer most
anything in relative silence, to make up for it.]
"We've no time to be judgmental ~ Caimnas can decide if you were just
smart or not,"
Enlarging his thrumbir's poke`ball once more, he looked meaningfully at
Crizanne and asked beseechingly, "Will you send Pritz in Grivin's
wake?" He let Littlown back out of her poke`ball and added, "Three
will be safer than two, and he won't tire himself out, trying to keep up with
them."
Crizanne blinked, almost with dismay at his suggesting that she wouldn't
do what she could to safeguard his poke`mon and help Caimnas ~ directly or
indirectly. But she realized before she made indignant reply, that he was being
his usual polite and considerate self; he didn't want to make demands of her,
or forceful suggestions. And he certainly had no intention of insulting her.
"Of course," she responded to his request mildly, pointing out,
"We don't know that those flying types bugged out completely. Hopefully,
when they see Grivin has his buddies, they won't try anything nasty again."
Crizanne looked up at Pritz, even as she pointed at Grivin, and commanded
the mizysprite, "Tag along with him and give support if he and Littlown
need it."
Pritz floated closer to Grivin, and as Littlown settled herself on the
lingoh, Crizanne informed Stanley uncertainly, "I don't think Pritz has
'waked' behind a flying type before."
Stanley shook his head impatiently and complimented the mizysprite with
the words, "He's a fast learner; I'm sure he'll do fine in staying on
Grivin's tail." He then waved the trio above onwards, and stepped forward
to the edge of the route's footpath.
As Grivin and Co. passed out of sight beyond the upper canopy line of the
She did take his hand instantly, and they heard Grivin's first
directional orientation call, as
Following in
She actually heard anger in
The lighting beneath the canopy was as could be expected, but Stanley had
excellent night vision, and sparing a glance back at Crizanne as he finished
his reply, he could see her eyes go wide.
"Goddesses above and below!" she
exclaimed pityingly, "What did he run into?"
"We need to pick up the pace,"
He adjusted their course accordingly, as he suggested gently, "Let's
save our breath and not talk anymore."
"All right," Crizanne agreed, supposing she could get the details
from Caimnas himself ~ assuming his spirit was broken enough to give the
straight story.
She felt
'Or down or out,' Crizanne amended silently, as her hand went to
the poke`ball at her waist that contained her normal type eklotto, Kloe`e. She
wondered if she and Stanley shouldn't have an escort of their own, as a visual
deterrent against encountering trouble with wild poke`mon in this forest.
And she also wondered at that flinch of
'Never mind letting the stories get to you,' she told herself firmly.
But it was more than the stories, legends and tales; it was something in the
air.
'Maybe we humans can't identify it consciously, but maybe we react to
it in kind,' Crizanne thought, as she carefully mounted up and over a mossy
log
Crizanne determined in her heart and mind, not to become another victim
of
The way Stanley was charging unfalteringly through the dark green and
black, dark maroon and even the occasional glowing gold foliage, it wasn't hard
to feel secure, trailing in the wake of his sureness.
'If there are any poke`mon in this forest truly without fear, they
must draw strength from companionship' she decided, and allowed herself to
relax completely.
'It's really amazing,' she reflected, 'how
She understood suddenly, as an old quotation came to her mind: 'May the
wings of an angel be given me, so that I may come swiftly to those broken and
crushed it spirit, those who are in need...'
Crizanne knew then, as they tore through the most dangerous forest on the
Ifaenn continent, 'speeding' as it were to Caimnas's aid, that they would not
encounter a single vicious, cruel or evil-minded soul. If they met any
poke`mon, it would prove to be only those unaffected by the
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
[Something is coming,] Nat announced with about as much of a quaver in
his 'voice' as he could manage. It was the clacking of his mandibles that
accentuated his fear.
[I can feel the vibrations. It--they,] he corrected himself as he
realized there were two distinct vibration patterns, over-lapping one another,
[are moving quickly and in this direction.]
The fiante sucked in his exoskeletal plating and roused the shock-wearied
Voi from his fitful slumber, adding cautiously, [But not too quickly; they may
not be poke`mon.]
Caimnas took this news with a grain of salt, and rose from kneeling
beside Minz. He could tell the unspoken subtext of Nat's observation was, '[but
they certainly could be]'.
Some of the lighter, upright walkers ~ such as crossbolt and scyther ~
could be misidentified as human by their movement vibration pattern. If it was
really a poke`mon instead of
Well aware that any poke`mon moving fast in the Dark Forest was probably
a predator on the scent of prey, and gambling it was his trail that was being
followed anyway, he chanced calling out; it would clarify the situation, and if
it was his 'follower', it would save his adrenal gland another workout.
"Is that you, Stanley?" he ventured
hopefully, and with considerable volume.
[They've stopped,] Nat signaled, tensed, perhaps for action, but with
fear he would have admitted to feeling, without shame.
And then could be heard the determined efforts of a flying type, trying
to breach the interwoven foliage of the canopy high above them...
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
They had run ~ unmolested by some miracle ~ about three miles in thirty
minutes,
For perhaps only the third time in his life,
It shamed him as quickly as he identified his hesitancy to respond, and
the more so, when Crizanne shouted back to their classmate first.
"Yes, Caimnas; Help is on the way!" she informed him simply and
spurred the stalled Stanley onwards, by taking the lead and pulling on his
hand, thereby impelling him to forward movement.
"Please tell me you have air
support!" they both heard Caimnas shout pleadingly.
Stanley was puzzled for a moment, and then realized what Caimnas was
probably referring to. But again, Crizanne beat him to the punch.
"Yes, Caimnas, there are three with us," she announced,
sounding slightly embattled. "Geoffrey, Joannson! A third time and I'll
sound like a broken record!"
"He is ~ expectedly ~ a little
jittery," he reminded her tactfully.
Crizanne snorted, rolled her eyes and allowed, "Granted," ~ and
promptly got her 'wish'.
"Wow!" they heard, "Is that a
lingoh?"
Crizanne refused to start this reply the same
way.
"Probably; it depends on just exactly what you are actually
referring to. You could be looking at a lingoh, because there is
one about. On the other hand, however, you might actually be looking through
my mizysprite."
She wasn't shy about putting 'a little' sarcasm into her voice, either.
After all, Caimnas could be looking at the foliage above, near the lingoh, or
at Littlown or even at Pritz, as she had suggested; lighting in the forest
wasn't exactly adequate for most visual identifications...
'Wait; Hold that thought,' Crizanne told herself; there seemed to
be a glowing before them.
"Oh, Goddess!" she breathed aloud,
"He ran into a fire type, didn't he?"
Stanley had been taught by his mother to speak when spoken to, so he did,
even though he was fairly sure Crizanne's question was a rhetorical one. Her
sarcasm was catching, so he was careful not to sound the same way.
"Well, I suppose that is what the multiple small fires might
indicate," he told her apologetically; he was apologizing for the words,
which would have gone quite nicely with a sarcastic tone of voice.
She understood, and didn't make mention of his choice of wording, but
said instead, "I think I should have Pritz try his hand at fire-fighting."
They broke through the foliage, into the
clearing...
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
Caimnas kept his mind on Minz; it was the least he could do, he felt,
considering the mintybrr's condition was his fault.
Nonetheless, he could not help feeling a thrill of excitement, at the
arrival of
None of his three poke`mon were of a species fast enough to pursue,
corner and battle a flying type into submission; Nat was a disadvantaged bug
type, and Voi and Minz weren't stealthy enough to sneak in close to a roosting
or ground feeding flying type. (It is true that vine whip is a lightning-fast
move, but neither of his grass type's vinicles were speedy enough to achieve
the full 'vine whip' rating.)
And thrumbirs were out of the question almost entirely; they were almost
constantly moving, and tended to be nervously jittery, when they weren't.
"You're the Master, Stanley; I'm just a third-rate wannabe,"
Caimnas whispered wistfully, bitterly.
Turning back to the prone and deathly paled form of Minz, he added with
seething anger, "and irresponsible and stupid and foolhardy and--"
He broke off cursing himself, as he distinguished ~ over the gentle
crackling of the small burnings surrounding him and his poke`mon ~ the sound of
movement in the foliage to his rear-left.
Caimnas wasn't too upset over Minz's condition, so as to miss noticing
that Crizanne was the first out of the foliage, and that she seemed to be the
force at the head of Stanley's appearance; at least she had him by the hand and
appeared to be pulling on his arm.
Stanley's flying types having landed on the ground for the moment in the
middle of the clearing, with Crizanne's mizysprite hanging over them, Caimnas
noted further that Nat was not at ease in the presence of at least one of the
first type, possibly both.
"Nat, do you have any trust left in me?" Caimnas asked his
nervous fiante gently but firmly. When he registered an infinitesimal
inclination of the poke`mon's guardedly upraised mandibles he went on
soothingly, "Then please relax your guard: an up-guard posture is no way
to show you appreciate our saviors, and none of
Taking into consideration the light his master had always cast 'Stanley'
in, the fiante flashed a clearly distrustful 'are you sure those certain orders
won't come?' look at Caimnas, but obediently ~ if not completely willingly ~
lowered his upraised mandibles, and relaxed himself into a not undefendable
crouch.
Crizanne saw Pritz immediately, upon entering the clearing, and spoke to
him while
"Where are your flying types headed off
to,
"We'll want warning if something is headed our way, so they are
going to get settled in a tree somewhere nearby to the north and south of us,
and watch for incoming danger," Stanley answered obligingly. "They'll
be in calling distance, if we should want them for some other purpose."
Moving over to Caimnas's injured mintybrr as the light waned in the
clearing thanks to Pritz's diligent efforts, Stanley un-shouldered his Journey
Pack and set it down carefully near the poke`mon. He bent, unzipped the pack
and extracted a flashlight and his copy of 'Hausenwar’s Medical Field Guide',
at the sight of which Caimnas winced and turned away, a pained expression on
his face.
Stanley straightened up, one of his retrieved selections in each hand,
and Caimnas watched him stand motionless, unmoving, for several seconds.
"Well, go on and open it and shed some light on the matter!"
Caimnas said loudly, impatiently. When this got no response from Stanley ~
either physical or vocal reaction-wise ~ he went farther without any measurable
hesitation. "What are you waiting for?" he demanded incredulously of
his classmate.
"For what acquired knowledge and common sense suggest I should; an
'all clear' from our positioning lookouts to the north and south," Stanley
returned evenly. He glanced at the few remaining burnings Pritz hadn't gotten
to yet, then qualified in a guarded whisper, "Flashlights draw Bedarkened
poke`mon, I hear."
'So that's why Stanley didn't use a flashlight to get us here,'
Crizanne thought to herself wondrously. 'He must have heard a warning I
didn't, from someone in Thunderroot.'
Even while she had this thought, there came a cautiously cheerful
whistle, floating to them all from Grivin, and then a minute later, just about
the highest pitched, unnerving trill Crizanne had ever heard ~ assume ably from
Littlown.
She took it from him and trained its beam on the Field Guide as he opened
it hurriedly.
"All right, details Caimnas; what exactly have you tried?" He
quickly amended before Caimnas could begin his response, "I trust you used
burn heal?"
"Yes, but as you can see, it didn't seem to do anything." He
pointed down at the injured poke`mon, openly distressed and less obviously
frustrated at his inability to ease or totally relieve the mintybrr's
suffering. "The burns are still oozing," he observed to Stanley and
Crizanne, with a hint of disgust, "and Minz hasn't come around with a
revive potion."
Caimnas knelt down and passed his right hand
expressively over Minz's face, careful not to touch the mintybrr. "All Healing
doesn't help at all; look at his face," he said, almost with hysterical
inflections in his voice, "he's in terrible pain!"
The broken spirited trainer gritted his teeth and let a tear fall
unashamedly from each eye, before confessing fearfully, "I think he was
poisoned, so I tried General Antidote, but it doesn't stabilize his nervous
system enough to allow positive Medi`Ball containment lock."
Caimnas retrieved the remains of two electronic pulse degenerated
Medi`Balls from his pocket, and displayed them in his hand for Stanley or
Crizanne to look at if they cared to, as he let out a little moan and went on
to inform the other boy with some horror, "These two Medi`Balls I tried
just chewed on his status for a short while, and then spit him back out: he's
too critical for the stasis function to maintain!"
Crizanne did waiver the flashlight's beam for a moment, to behold more
clearly the wrent atomic structure of the Medi`Balls in Caimnas's hand, but
Stanley cleared his throat hintingly, and she redirected the beam at the Field
Guide's pages even as Caimnas continued.
"Their poison antidote systems couldn't pin down the type of poison
close enough to the exact source and variety, for the risk evaluant program to
approve any single or mixture of special antidote serums." Caimnas tore
his worried gaze from his poke`mon, set it upon Stanley's concentratingly
distracted countenance ~ which was lit be the reflected backwash of the
flashlight's beams on the Field Guide ~ and then announced with finality,
"All it determined from his chemical reactions to the test serum is that
it's a plant based poison, made, rather than naturally occurring."
The whole time Caimnas was giving him these details,
"Did you just paraphrase the Medi`Ball's
analysis terms?" he asked Caimnas urgently, in response to the conclusion
of his classmate's report.
"Definitely," Caimnas answered,
sounding nervously chagrinned.
"Well then, listen carefully," Stanley charged him firmly.
"Does 'naturally derived, chemically reactant altered of manufacture'
sound right?"
"Yes! That's it exactly!" Caimnas
confirmed with a start, now sounding nervously excited. "Is this good?"
"According to the Field Guide," he went on further, with
Caimnas hanging on his every word, "a Medi`Ball doesn't have a matching
antidote serum, so we have to steep one from the leaves of the golden glowern
itself."
" 'Golden Glowern'?" Crizanne repeated excitedly, as Stanley
paged backwards in the Field Guide to the plant's own detailed heading under
the 'Healthy and Harmful Flora the Ifaenn Continent Over' section. She finished
with a question that it sounded like she didn't need the answer to; "Is
that the plant with the glowing yellow leaves?"
"One and the same," Stanley affirmed, letting the girl's
inaccurate description go without comment. He pointed for Crizanne's benefit to
the golden glowern's details subheading 'Host Locations and Occurrence Rating'
which read simply, 'Prolific in Dark Forest'. Then he observed ~ quite unnecessarily
~ for Caimnas's benefit, "Fortunately they are not the least bit rare."
"Do you actually think you're telling
him that?" Crizanne asked Stanley quietly, slightly disbelieving.
"There's one right here," she went on louder, pointing just to her
right, aware that she herself wasn't telling the two boys anything new either,
"and they are all around the edge of this clearing." She waved her
right arm expressively as she said 'all around'. Having finished his assigned
task, Pritz was coming up on her right as she did so and her arm passed through
the cool moisture of his gaseous form.
"Oh! I'm sorry Pritz," Crizanne apologized quickly when she
realized what she had done. "You know I didn't do it on purpose, don't
you?" she ventured beseechingly to the mizysprite.
[Of course] Pritz signed, obviously uncomfortable if not actually pained.
[Just please be careful,] he requested sternly.
"Certainly Pritz," his trainer responded gratefully.
"Again, I'm sorry."
Stanley was shaking his head in negative acknowledgement of Crizanne's
point. "Too close to the battle area, perhaps; between fire attacks and
the burnings they touched off, any glowern plants in this clearing may have had
their chemical nature altered by the heat waves."
He pointed at the 'Antidotes' sub-heading under the golden glowern's
'General Details' heading, explaining for the benefit of any ears that cared to
listen, "The field guide specifically says the leaves for the antidote are
to be 'steeped or steamed'. I therefore conclude that 'dry heat' is what
produces the chemical change in the leaves that renders them poisonous."
Stanley paused and then added quietly, "That is indicatively
corroborated by the fact that the grass type was running with a fire type; not
usually a cooperative pairing in nature, even if the Dark Forest is an
exception to many rules."
On a much lighter, more cheerful note, he went on to suggest, "Some
other scattered G-glowern plants ~ or even a cluster of several together ~
should be easy to find, farther into the undergrowth, away from the clearing;
the glowing part is all we will need for the steeped antidote."
"The goddesses know we passed enough getting here,"
Crizanne muttered under her breath and stood from squatting down behind Stanley.
Stanley stood as well, and as Crizanne switched off the flashlight, he
closed the Field Guide with a 'snap'.
The numerous burnings out now, the probably affected G-glowerns around
the clearing were the only source of light, what with the flashlight in
Crizanne's hand off. Everyone and everything appeared as dim outlines and the
gaze of an average person upon anything could only be after the fashion of a
general sort.
But the exception was the rule ~ in the case of one of the human figures
standing in the clearing ~ as Stanley turned his focused attention suddenly to
the suffering form of the mintybrr and informed his trainer indirectly,
sounding regretful, "As much as I would like to, I don't think it's
absolutely necessary that we move Minz out of the forest." He added
softly, "Nor is it likely advisable, considering his condition." He
paused the merest of moments ~ secretly battling with indecision ~ then pronounced,
in a decidedly determined voice, "We'll set up to fix our antidote, right
here!"
That was six poke`mon deployed and ready to make defense,
By the light of Embler, Stanley could see that Caimnas was looking
somewhat like his voison, so he realized the other boy needed something to do
to keep his mind limber, and partly off of Minz.
"There is nothing you can do for Minz right now, Caimnas," he
pointed out apologetically, and suggested, his voice kindly worried, "Why
don't you go see if you can bring your voison back around to the realm of the
aware?"
Caimnas took the careful suggestion meekly, and moved over to Voi slowly,
lest he should startle the comatose poke`mon out of his sedative stupor; that
would be the last resort, if he couldn't bring the grass type around gently.
"I'll rustle up the leaves," Crizanne announced, sounding like
she was intent on taking the duty for herself, and not merely volunteering for
the part. "And Kloe`e is coming with me," she amended with a pat of
her hand against her thigh. Kloe`e took to her trainer's heels instantly, as
the girl moved towards one edge of the clearing.
Stanley took a few steps after her, but stopped and told himself firmly
that Crizanne would be fine with her poke`mon.
Speaking clearly ~ partly thinking aloud to herself, partly in compliment
to the female eklotto and partly in explanation to the boys ~ Crizanne said
fondly, "Her nightvision sight will keep me from tripping and falling flat
~ or otherwise ~ on my face."
Kloe`e obediently took the lead, disappearing into the growth with a
little growl to herself. Crizanne paused for a moment and looked back over her
shoulder at the two boys. "And I do want the escort, as well," she
admitted, wondering ~ since neither of them actually looked knowing ~ if either
of the boys had been thinking that was really why she was taking Kloe`e. She
would have laid her money on Caimnas if he wasn't concerned with something ~
someone ~ else, at the moment.
"Oh, and you should keep this, Stanley," Crizanne said,
sounding like it was an afterthought. She waved the flashlight indicatively and
then pitched it without setting it spinning end for end. Stanley caught it, and
she added, "If I take it with me I might be tempted to use it and that
could only be inviting disaster."
With an awkward scuff of her hiking boot at a tuft of grass, the girl
turned from facing him and disappeared amongst the foliage just behind her.
Stanley turned to Minz as soon as she had quite gone, regretting he could
not spare himself to go with her. He stepped back over to the injured
mintybrr's side and his hands dived once more into the depths of his pack.
They came out again with a smallish kettle pot, its stirring spoon and collapsible
carbonized suspension frame stored within itself for the sake of good order.
Also, on top of it ~ if not actually inside it ~ was Stanley's larger spare
canteen; he needed the contents of that, surely enough.
"We will need dry leaves and twigs to start; you know the drill,
Embler," Stanley said trustfully to his immediately attentive fire type,
who had been exploring about the clearing to study the evidence of the recent
battle in it, by his own light.
Indeed, the matchis knew it well, and quickly dug out a shallow pit for
the fire to rest its laurels in. Nat helped by gathering some of the stones to
rim the fire pit and Embler found the rest about the clearing and then the
sunken fireplace was complete but for the fire's starting fuel.
While Embler and Nat gathered and layered the fire's starter bed, Stanley
set up the carbonized metaplaz 'cooking teepee' over the as yet virgin fire pit.
Dry leaves were decidedly scarce, as the rain of the night before had done
its customary work, and the clearing was surprisingly free of leaves, dry or
otherwise. Only at the edges of the clearing were there any relatively dry
leaves to be found, of those that had been rendered so by the heat strokes of
late, and then only those Pritz had not re-wetted in his mission of minutes
before, would do for 'catch' fuel.
Twigs for the starting of the fire were easier to come by, at least
immediately, and with one motion of his mandibles, Nat reduced a branch Embler
had found, to bits and pieces and kindling wood, and was able to carry the most
of it to the fire pit himself.
Water was needed of course, but getting it was no issue; both he and
Crizanne were carrying canteens and his larger spare would be plenty, he was
sure. He didn't know if Caimnas had one in his pack, but it didn't matter, and
he was not going to disturb Caimnas in his efforts to rouse Voi from his
stupor, anyway.
As Embler was evidently having trouble rustling it up, Stanley realized
that continuous fuel for the fire was slightly an issue. He was planning
on leaving the fire and helping his poke`mon in his task but that was only
until Kloe`e proved herself to be efficiently helpful ~ even if it was with a
managerial air.
The eklotto's sudden and unaccompanied return while he was emptying
two-thirds of his canteen's contents into the pot over the growing fire, was a
surprise to Stanley and a bit worrying ~ should his reaction to the poke`mon's
reappearance be made known.
"Kloe`e, why are you not still with Crizanne?" he inquired
gently of the felinius poke`mon. "No doubt you have justified cause to be
here right now," he went on quickly, "but...She sent you back, did
she?"
[Your cautious inqueriousness is forgiven and ~ contrary-wise ~
appreciated,] Kloe`e responded easily. [She is not far off, and told me she
could make her own way back and that I can be more help to you,
"undoubtedly".]
Mystified, Stanley ventured humbly, "She wouldn't happen to have
mentioned how, did she?"
[No, she didn't,] Kloe`e replied with an amused twitch of her whiskers,
[but I have my own idea. Fires are such insufferably hungry things, don't you
think?]
Stanley's mysticism cleared up as the eklotto turned in a fluid motion
and passed into the foliage from which she had emerged just moments earlier.
To his left, in the forest just beyond the point where Kloe`e had
vanished through the close-in foliage, he could make out Embler's glow with
difficulty, probably not far from the eklotto's present ~ or immediately
becoming ~ position. This suspicion was confirmed when there were words spoken.
[Having fuel trouble?] he heard her accuse Embler, sounding just a tad
smug and he fancied there was a silence immediately afterward because she was
waiting patiently for the matchis's confession of the fact.
He couldn't make out the reply, but Embler did mutter something
unhappily, and Kloe`e rejoined with castigating disgust, [So it rained! You're
a fire type! Come on and use your brains; you just cuddle up with--]
Stanley couldn't hear anything further of what she was saying to Embler, as
they were moving away ~ assume ably in searching.
Kloe`e was back almost directly, a good-sized, whole, dry branch held in
her toothily grinning mouth. She didn't bother trying to pull the branch from
the clutches of the thicker foliage at the edge of the clearing when it got
caught, but, rather, just released her hold and passed the buck with surprising
skill and not so surprising rudeness.
[Here you go Stan; flash dried courtesy of Embler,] she said with some
difficulty as she scraped her tongue on her teeth to try and get the bits of
bark off. Largely successful in this, she told Nat in a much clearer voice,
[Hey, Big Mandie, this is all yours now; break it down. See that the tender
fire, or the fire tender, gets it.] And so as she wouldn't have to face any
indignation on the part of anyone she had just insulted, she whirled and
disappeared back into the local depths of the Forest.
Looking put upon and likely holding a grudge over being referred to as
'Big Mandie', Nat did as he was behooved. Spending his peeved anger on something
that wouldn't mind, there was another startling 'shatter' and multiple 'snaps',
as he took this branch down to snack sized eatables for the fire, as well.
"No go with Voi, Caimnas?" Stanley
asked concernedly, stoking the fire beneath the hanging pot with some of the brittle,
dry twigs and pieces as Nat dropped them on his other side, away from the fire.
He did not take it as a good sign that the sharp noises of Nat's activity, were
not even disturbing the voison.
"No!" the murkrow haired boy
reported snappishly, and then ventured to say bitterly, "I guess he
doesn't care about me enough to react to my assurances."
"That is a two-edged sword,
Caimnas." Stanley pointed out quietly, sparing him a glance from the
flaring fire beneath what he had begun to think of as the 'stewpot of life'.
Taking into consideration that the water would boil away fairly quickly once it
started, so thusly there was little worry of using too much, he emptied the
last third of the contents of his spare canteen into the heating pot, as
Caimnas responded.
"Yes, I know," he said soberly, then quoted with deep feeling,
'The trainer needs to prove he is worthy of his poke`mon's affections, before
they will really bond'." He looked thoroughly ashamed and forlorn as he
confided in his fellow trainer mournfully, "I don't think I ever doubted
those words,
"I rather get that sense, Caimnas," Stanley allowed
encouragingly, turning his full attention to Caimnas at the remembrance of that
outrageous but often seemingly true saying; 'A watched pot never boils'. Staring
at it wouldn't make it boil any quicker, certainly, and Caimnas could benefit
more from the attention, in the form of sympathy and fellow feeling.
Caimnas blinked probably the hundredth tear from his eye and as Stanley
had half expected, asked him despondently, "What do I do about Voi?"
Stanley's glasses moved up the bridge of his nose, before he replied.
"Psychologically speaking, he has gone somewhere to which he feels
safe," he answered, careful to sound as uncertain as he truthfully felt.
"It is widely accepted," he continued, feeling he was on surer
footing, "that physical contact often induces a feeling of security. Why
don't you hug just as much of him as you can, and apologize for the scare he
got, and ask him to come back to you?"
To his credit, Caimnas didn't look adverse to
the idea, but a strike against his reasonableness came in the form of a skeptical
look and the scornfully spoken words, "But if he doesn't love me very
much, why would he come back from his 'safe little paradise' for me?"
"Because you really want him,"
Stanley rejoined patiently. Feeling that this was not an instance where he
should extend the benefit of the doubt, he qualified meaningfully, "If
you really want him."
The other boy's response was ~ to be kind ~
more than just distantly parallel to what Stanley had prepared himself for.
"Hey! I caught him, didn't I?" Caimnas demanded, looking for the
moment mightily indignant.
"In body, yes," Stanley agreed mildly, "but not yet fully
in spirit, apparently. Why don't you tell him that you want his heart,
too?" Now Caimnas looked thoroughly shocked, as though his fellow trainer
had introduced a new thought.
More than a little disappointed in Caimnas, Stanley went on to suggest
further, "Or better yet, think long and hard about what he means to you,
tell him just how much, and if it is enough ~ if you have spoken with sincerity
~ he will come back to you, I am sure."
Kloe`e ~ tired of the general dampness of the Forest and satisfied that
there was now enough fuel laid up ~ had returned and settled herself next to
the fire unobtrusively. Embler ~ unwilling to continue his given mission
without her company ~ was crouched near the eklotto, between her and Stanley.
Pritz was 'pacing' about the perimeter of the clearing, apparently fully alert
to any possible danger, probably eager for his trainer's return, and
disinclined to get very near the fire, almost certainly.
And lastly and most notably, Nat was in the relative position of behind
his trainer ~ facing away from the fire and Stanley ~ and sulking with silent
shame, if the caringly observant boy was any judge. The bug poke`mon was
perhaps feeling neglected; despite being half turned towards him, Caimnas had
not thought to spare him 'thanks', 'hail', or request of loving comfort.
Stanley ~ to be fair ~ was confident that Nat was keeping close in mind
the distressing circumstances for his trainer, but many poke`mon tend toward
self-centeredness, until they bond fully with their trainers and really feel an
integral part of a team. In his sub-conscious the bug type was probably mostly
dwelling on his own emotional needs, and being half aware of this led him to
sulk in a sort of limboed state; neither fully condemning of Caimnas's
inattention to him, nor instinctively willing to just let it completely go.
Stanley considered the sulky expression was evidence that Nat was eating away
at himself ~ feeling remorse at his self-pity ~ while Minz suffered and Voi was
yet nothing but a shadow.
Stanley reflected for a moment on the two sides to the coin of poke`mon
companionship. Some poke`mon are happy just to be there for you, others need
your willing acknowledgement ~ 'willing' meaning that they will not attempt to
garner praise for themselves they do not rightfully deserve, or attention for themselves
by 'acting up' or cutting in on quality time between their trainer and a fellow
'teamer'.
"Thank you very much, lady and gentle`mon," he said with a
grateful smile for each of the settled poke`mon and a nod, smile and mindful
charge to the patrolling mizysprite of, "Please don't wear yourself out,
Pritz." And then he was especially careful to meet Nat's gaze, when the
fiante turned at his sincerely spoken words, "I owe you, Nat."
Pleasantly surprised, Nat held his gaze questioningly, and Stanley felt obliged
to explain. "If there is any normal, almost daily chore I dislike enough
so as to be deeply tempted to let anyone else who might, do it, then it is
breaking up branches for a fire," he said truthfully.
Nat's fully closed mandibles tipped up slightly ~ his species' equivalent
of quirked lips ~ and the others acknowledged Stanley's thanks, each in their
own unique way. Then, satisfied that they understood their efforts were truly
appreciated, the brown haired boy turned his attention once more directly to
Caimnas.
Recovered mostly from his shock, Caimnas
nonetheless seemed a little dazed still. Having not yet done so, he turned back
to Voi's huddled form ~ a distracted air about him ~ and asked Stanley in a
distant, indistinct voice, "Do you think he can hear us talking about him?"
As if on queue, Voi gave a start and opened
his eyes wide ~ as if in unreasoning fear ~ and locked his gaze immediately
upon Caimnas's, which was of a far away nature.
Instantly registering this ~ despite his silent meditations ~ Caimnas
immediately pulled himself together.
Mistaking the quality of the voison's eyes far a sign of re-alarm, his
trainer assured him in a soothing voice, "Don't worry Voi, we're safe; you're
safe." He swept his hand indicatively at the unfamiliar souls surrounding
the two of them, and elaborated, "Two of my classmates and their poke`mon
are here now ~ The boy is
An uncharacteristically fond quality flooded Caimnas's face, as he added
meaningfully, "And I'm here too. I failed once I know, but I--"
[Yes,] the voison interrupted its trainer absently, as it looked around
itself questingly, [We're all safe, now that '
Mistaking again, believing the poke`mon's words to be bitter and
sarcastic, Caimnas objected, "That's not what I meant! I meant we're as
safe as we're gonna get and that's plenty safe!"
Having narrowed it, Voi turned his gaze once more upon Caimnas and said
vehemently, [RELEASE ME! I must be freed; RELEASE ME!]
Caught completely off his guard, Caimnas reacted to the voison's evident
emotion of certainty and unwavering decisiveness, and granted the poke`mon his
request without thinking. "Yes! I do!" he said loudly, hurriedly, his
voice steady by the force of absolute surprise, his eyes widening.
He needed just two seconds for the meaning of what he had just done, and
worse ~ said freely ~ to sink in; even to him, the word between poke`mon and
trainer was to be held sacred.
He clenched his right hand into a fist, lifted it to his mouth and bit
his pointer fingers' knuckle in unregretful anguish. Then he removed the
smarting knuckle from his mouth and asked Voi sorrowfully, "But why? Don't
I get a second chance?"
All traces of severity gone, Voi said happily, [Of course you do!]
Smiling pleasurably, he closed his eyes and added quietly, putting the tip of
one of his vinicles on his trainer's shoulder, [I give the freedom ~ the
newfound freedom you granted me ~ back to you.]
There was a pause as Caimnas registered this
turn-about and then he said with overjoyed disbelief, "So now I'm in your
debt twice, is that it?"
Looking somewhat mareepish, Voi denied gently, [Not at all; my request
was in the nature of a test.] Caimnas opened his mouth quite expectedly, and
the voison quickly interjected pleadingly, [Please don't ask me if you passed ~
I'm not sure myself. Should you love me so much, you are willing to let me go
at my behest? Or should you so much, that you cannot bring yourself to do so?]
Grateful to his poke`mon and thoroughly relieved, Caimnas hugged Voi
tightly and begged softly, "Well, please think on it, so I know how to
react the next time."
[Can I do my thinking in my poke`ball?] the voison requested, sounding slightly
apprehensive. [I promise I'll come out if you need me again in the forest here.]
"Of course you can," Caimnas answered understandingly. Swiftly
retrieving the voison's poke`ball, he thumbed the expansion switch and flinched
its expanded 'half shells' to activate the recall feature, adding proudly,
"And ~ I know you will."
[May there never be a 'next time', Caimnas,] the poke`mon said solemnly. And
then he began to add with a grin dawning on his face: [Take the cha--] His
words were cut off as he phased out beyond the point of vocal cohesion.
But that last was not unknown to his trainer. " 'Take the challenge,
Make the changes....'," Caimnas finished the thought, allowing himself a
small, fond smile, as he stared for a moment at the point where Voi had just
phased out from.
Tears of joyful relief trailing down his cheeks, Caimnas felt a nudge at
his sneaker and looked behind himself; it was Nat, indicating in such a mild
way that he wanted a kind word from his trainer.
Caimnas sat back and turned to face the fire fully, which put Nat on his
immediate left, close at hand. Crossing his legs Indion style, he reached out
and tugged gently on one of the fiante's feelers. "You've been behind me
for a while," he acknowledged apologetically.
Responding to his trainer's familiar invite, Nat nodded his other feeler
in reluctant confirmation and moved forward enough to set his mandibles on
Caimnas's leg.
"I am sorry," the boy murmured softly, "thank you for
being so patient with me." He ventured further, earnestly, meeting Nat's
searching gaze, "And for being so forgiving?"
A moment's pause, as Nat broke eye contact with his trainer to consider
the apology and then he gave his answer, in the form of another affirmative
twitch of a feeler.
Grateful, Caimnas leaned a bit forward to 'kiss' Nat appreciatively, by
exhaling heavily on one of his perked and sensitive feelers. Content to stroke
Nat's mandibles and massage his sensitive mouthparts, the boy fixed his fellow
trainer with a questioning 'what's that look for?' gaze.
The fact revealed frankly, Stanley found the oral massage a surprise and
he made a mental note to ask his classmate if he knew anything more about
massage than its oral applications.
The brown haired boy shook his head quickly in a casual 'nothing' fashion
and turned his attention to the surrounding forest, wondering about Crizanne.
It seemed to Stanley that Crizanne was taking a long time, and when he
looked at his Poke`Gear, he realized just how long; it was getting near ten
minutes since she had left. 'I'll give her until the water starts to boil,'
Stanley thought nervously, 'and then I enlist Kloe`e and we go after her
with Pritz as camouflage shroud.'
But just short of ten full minutes and just as the water was coming to a
full boil, Crizanne could be heard returning, moving with hazardous haste,
certainly at a high jog and practically a run. "I'm coming Stanley,"
she said loudly as she approached, "don't send out a search party."
Her voice fell as she muttered something uncomplimentary about something or
other she had run into or that had brushed her as she passed. Then she piped up
again to add complainingly, "These burning G-glowerns don't like natural
firelight, I guess!"
She crashed through the foliage and into the clearing seconds later,
looking a sight, but Stanley refused to comment or let his lip twitch smilingly
as she marched forward toward the fire, her many prizes clutched tightly in her
left hand. Her expression was severe and her voice chagrinned, as she spoke the
defense of her relative tardiness.
"Sorry I took so long, but I sent Kloe`e back saying I should be
fine, and sure enough, I tripped with royal elegance on the way back here. And,
naturally," she went on bitterly, with many disgustedly emphatic gestures,
"I scattered every leaf I collected over ten square feet while doing it!"
"Are you all right?" Stanley asked distractedly, as he made an
unsuccessful attempt at plucking the leaves from Crizanne's waving hand.
"Oh, my shin and my wrist smart, but other than that I feel just pichuy."
Upon saying which, she realized Stanley was trying to tend to the more serious
business at hand and offered him the leaves straight away.
"Do you think these will be enough?" she asked Stanley
worriedly, silently adding unconsciously, 'Potion Master?'
"These should be plenty," Stanley assured her dutifully, as he
accepted them from her hand and began to trim the dead and dim-glow from the
glowern leaves with the overlarge pair of nail scissors on his survival tool.
As he finished trimming a leaf he dropped the prime section of each into
the brewing pot and Crizanne would poke each down and give the pot a stir. But
he saved one of the first out, explaining to the interested girl, "We'll
feed the antidote system a sample of the prime and see if it has a match, by
chance." Caimnas dug out his last Medi`Ball and tossed it to Crizanne,
without being requested to do so and without comment.
By the maneuvering of the medicinal goddess Medi Senaii or just a natural
'of course', it didn't; the Poke`Gear read-link announced that the 'introduced
poison source' was 'unknown'.
Crizanne looked a little miffed though, and
pointed out with a touch of vehemence, "We might suggest they develop an
antidote serum for the G-glowern."
"There are a lot of things we might
do," Stanley agreed patiently. "Right now we might save Minz's life."
"Pointed, Stanley," Crizanne conceded in a whisper, "very
pointed."
Stanley turned to Caimnas slowly, not daring to smile reassuringly to fit
his concluding words. "I only want to save Minz's life. It's up to you as
his trainer, but I think it will be all right." He held his breath for the
blow up, if it should come.
Eyes wide with disbelief and having a frightening shine of horror in them
courtesy of the firelight, Caimnas stared at
"I won't make any promises, no,"
Despairing, Caimnas nodded his head. "I deserve not getting any
guarantees," he whispered hopelessly and then finished dully with a
prolonged glance at his sickly poke`mon, "but Minz doesn't."
Looking away from Minz, Caimnas gave a little shiver of emotion and
squeezed the tears from his eyes. Then, having crossed his lower arms, he ran
his hands up and down his upper arms, in the fashion that suggested he was
cold, but which Crizanne recognized as the mindless gesture of helpless
distress.
Crizanne hadn't realized until
She saw the calm quality of
Instead, he implied the truth of the matter by the unsteadily spoken
words, "I'm sorry, Caimnas."
He couldn't let Caimnas withdraw into his sorrow at the thought of the
worst possibility, so he suggested forcefully, "If he is dying now we must
be quick!" Then he pressed Caimnas with equal earnestness, "Shall we
try the antidote?"
"Oh Goddess, yes!" Caimnas sobbed, through his freely flowing
tears. He gave voice to a wail suddenly and fell forward onto the palms of his
hands, then lifted one hand to clutch at his chest.
Crizanne let out a stifled gasp and left Stanley to kneel beside Caimnas
and place a gentle hand on his shoulder blade, as she asked him with unnerved
concern, "What's wrong with your chest? Are you having trouble breathing?"
Caimnas gave a little nod, angled himself upright once more with a wince,
and firmly nudged her out of his line of sight to Stanley, but not without
first giving her a grateful look. And then, both hands pressed to his chest, he
met
Stanley couldn't bring himself to tell Caimnas he needed to calm down,
before his mental and emotional turmoil spilled over and resulted in serious
physical repercussions; he knew he would be just as torn up, if it was his
poke`mon at death's doorstep. He was guessing Caimnas was already having chest
pains, and that an unsettled stomach would follow quickly enough.
He rose from his squatting position before the fire and brew pot ~ with
its contents of uncertain benefit or detriment ~ and moved over to Minz's side
to kneel carefully down.
He paused with the two leaves upon the spoon held near Minz’s mouth ~
which was opened expressively, telling the story of the poke`mon's agony ~ and
whispered, "Be it not on the head of Caimnas, but in a generously inclined
Dessitina's hands."
"Gee, that really makes me feel better," Caimnas responded with
biting sarcasm. "Why don't you say that to my face, and snicker while
you're at it?" He groaned after saying this and quickly lay down on his
back.
"No words can help you, Caimnas; you need Minz to be alive and well,
" he observed rightly, amending meaningfully, "Minz himself might
benefit through prayers to the Goddesses, however. I hope you don't object to
my praying aloud for him, do you?"
Caimnas made no reply to
Realizing that Stanley was still holding the spoon full of curing or
killing antidote over Minz's face and muttering prayers, Caimnas demanded
forcefully of him, "You can do both at once, can't you Stanley? Stuff 'em
down his agonized throat!" The emotionally wrent trainer rolled onto his
side, away from Crizanne, hide his face in his arms and began to weep ~ from no
place the less than the depths of his heart.
Stanley did, and as it was all or nothing after the first few of them, he
forced the rest of the boiled leaves down the mintybrr's tensed throat.
When the last had been gently pressed to the back of Minz's throat and
swallowed dutifully, Stanley fell silent. He could hear only the labored
breathing of Minz and Caimnas talking to--'No ~ praying to Sheowti,' he
corrected himself.
His eyes never left the mintybrr, watching closely, listening, for any
sign of improvement...or of the coming to his end. Stanley had told Caimnas the
use of the antidote was his responsibility, but he knew he himself would always
feel haunted with that curse, if the poke`mon died.
"It is difficult to tell in this light ~ no offense Embler
~ but I think his color is improving," Stanley announced softly, after
studying Minz for about two minutes ~ he didn't know exactly how long because
he wasn't sparing his attention to look at his Poke`Gear. "And his
breathing is getting deeper and to be less of an effort," he added in the
same tone, but with more confidence, after ten more seconds or so had passed.
No mistaking that his matchis took none ~ in fact adjusted his flaming
hue to almost purest yellow ~ and unless he was mistaken, when Caimnas
heard this news he prayed all the harder.
'O Sheowti, open thine ears to hear a subjected being's pleadings, for he
feels the color of thine braids ~ every white hair of which...a regret.'
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
Minz's condition rapidly improved to 'system safe' and less than twenty
minutes later,
He called Grivin and Littlown to him, and requested they fly recon ahead
to the route. And while he was intent on leading the following group, Kloe`e,
Pritz and Embler insisted they lead and their trainers trail closely behind.
In tribute to their bravery, loyalty and sense of duty, Stanley began to
hum a tune as the tight knot of beings hustled through the forest.
Crizanne thought she recognized it and ventured with a secret smile,
"Is that Faithfully Follow?"
"Yes, it is," Stanley confirmed, only a little surprised at her
correct guess. "Do you know it?" he inquired, very interested.
"By heart," the girl answered excitedly. "Will you sing it
out loud with me?"
The two of them did ~ several times ~ all the way back to the main route
and at one point Caimnas did a mental tally. 'Nice, neat, calm, collected,
smart, a good or great trainer, and a decent singer to-boot; Praise the Goddesses
if it turns out he can't tap dance!'
His gratefulness and his jealousy were going to do battle really quickly....
&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&\*-*/&
The battle was over by the time everyone was standing, sitting, laying on
or hovering over the main route between Thunderroot and Dark Forestville.
Stanley and Crizanne gave each of their teamers a bit of well earned
attention, many more vocal thanks and the option of extended time spent out of
their poke`balls.
Pritz was not interested in getting any more fresh air, even though he
could follow their progress by skirting the edges of the Forest, lest he dry
out in the direct sunlight. Kloe`e was more than happy to follow along on their
heels.
Grivin requested permission to hunt in the Dark Forest's fringe and maybe
rustle up some more trouble, like the darjah and the rednal earlier. "Hunt
yes, rustle no," his trainer informed him sternly. The lingoh took
immediately off with a confirmatory whistle and an unmistakably respectful
scry, only mock disappointed.
Now, Embler had a difficult time moving at any pace slower, between and
faster than an amble and a bound, so he preferred to ride when Stanley would
let him. He clenched his fat little paw unthreateningly at Stanley, the sign
for 'poke`ball'.
"Are you sure, Embler?" his trainer asked sincerely. "If
you would like to pichu-back, I will be more than happy to have the
honor."
The matchis slowly, carefully shook his head 'no'. Stanley often so
generously offered, but Embler weighed fifteen pounds and his trainer already
carried twenty to thirty-five in his Journey pack ~ and thinking light thoughts
didn't help. The poke`mon hated to risk over-burdening Stanley because he was
certain the boy would not say anything should it be true from the start or
become the case.
Suspecting Stanley's poke`mon were as considerate as their trainer,
Caimnas piped up and offered forcefully, "I'm traveling light for the run
to Thunderroot; I'll carry you Embler." He looked apologetically at the
other boy and amended dutifully, "That is, if Stanley won't take
exception."
"No exception to be taken," Stanley assured both Embler and
Caimnas smilingly.
Embler looked a little surprised at first. 'Probably at my offer, not
Stanley's permission,' Caimnas told himself correctly. However, a pleased
smile quickly graced the poke`mon's soot smudged face, and when Caimnas bent,
the matchis hopped up on the boy's shoulders.
While he was testing where to settle for comfort and balance, Embler
spoke, sounding appreciative and then tactfully inquiring.
"He 'thanks you mutchis' and wonders ~ hopefully inoffensively ~ how
much energy you can have left after your ordeal," Stanley translated
without being asked.
"Thanks Stanley," Caimnas said, admitting further, "I
don't know much mutchis --I mean matchis." He smiled at his mistake and
Crizanne laughed at his slip up too, but he didn't mind.
The murkrow haired boy reached his right hand over to his left shoulder
and gave Embler's decoratively enflamed head a cautious but insistful pat and
reassured the thoughtful poke`mon, "Minz is all right now; I could run a
hundred miles with a hipopo on my back." Hence, Embler's mode of
progression was taken care of for a while.
Lastly, Littlown was hanging around, eager for something sweet and
sticky, so Stanley unzipped a smaller pocket in the lower left side of his
Journey pack and withdrew a little something for her, as he turned to lead the
march on to Thunderroot.
"Can I stick with the two of you?" Caimnas asked softly, eyeing
Littlown enviously, as the thrumbir stuck her needle beak through the foil top
of the small, clear plastic tube held invitingly for her in her trainer's hand.
"I mean past Thunderroot," he clarified needlessly, suggesting
strongly, "You two lead and I'll follow." He chuckled awkwardly and
looking straight ahead, he concluded meekly, "I owe the both of you
majorly and it'll be hard to pay you back, if I'm not around."
Stanley tore his fond gaze from Littlown perched on his hand and he and
Crizanne traded interested glances past the front of Caimnas's oblivious person
~ his mild and agreeable, hers intensely inquerious.
Stanley gave her a slight nod and turned his attention back to his
thrumbir. Crizanne frowned, feeling chagrinned, her good charity having waned
towards Caimnas, now that he and his poke`mon were out of immediate danger.
'Not much more than an hour ago, you didn't want us around!'
Crizanne silently accused the boy directly to her left, with a fixed smile of
delight coming out on her face; she figured she was making up for the mental
jab by not speaking her mind for once. 'Due confession,' she added to
the Gods above, 'for once...'.
"If you want to," Stanley said
slowly, now sparing Caimnas a glance from fondly watching Littlown feed.
"All I ask is that you take note, from now on." he informed his
fellow trainer meaningfully.
"Of everything?" Caimnas asked
quietly, not the least bit disbelieving of Stanley's single, proclaimed
expectation, concerning the change he needed to make in his general attitude.
He suspected his classmate was also referring to his obligations as a trainer,
at the same time. Perhaps that was the more important point to Stanley's mind?
No, not 'perhaps' ~ it almost certainly was.
"Of everything concerning the welfare and well-being of your
poke`mon, yes," Stanley qualified sternly. He thanked Littlown for her
help and kissed her sweetly on her crest feathers before he made a further
point. "You would not neglect yourself or deny yourself something you
really felt you needed to be happy, would you?"
"No," Caimnas admitted solemnly,
eyeing the fed thrumbir uncomfortably.
Seeming contented and bubbling over with replenished energy already, the
little flying type was looking alert...or rather, artificially hyped. Caimnas
silently hoped that Stanley would call her into her poke`ball. It was true he
thought she was cute to gaze upon and she was impressive to watch in flight, he
was sure, but he didn't really want her bombing about him, what with her sharp
beak.
"Then give them what they want most; your undivided attention, your
love, your best efforts on their behalf...you!" Stanley
implored his new traveling companion fervently.
Realizing that Littlown was somehow distracting Caimnas, he gave his thrumbir
an apologetic look and phased her out, reassured of her forgiveness by half a
chitter or what he liked to call a 'chit'. Then he finished his thought with an
intense gaze, saying with feeling, "They are the power ~ the distance
~ of your Journey."
Feeling much more at ease with the thrumbir's
beak put away and moved by Stanley's caring intensity, Caimnas inquired
carefully, "Where did you read that? It sounded like a quote."
"Well, it wasn't," Stanley informed
him softly. A pained expression clouded his face. "It can be read plainly
in the distance between you and your poke`mon," he explained sadly.
'Sheesh! He's a poet too!' Caimnas thought with amazement. He
refused to ask exactly what Stanley's meaning was, figuring the taller boy
would explain in due course.
Caimnas was, in fact, thinking that 'in due course' was before the trio
of trainers took another step, as Stanley stopped walking and turned to face
him fully.
But instead of speaking immediately, Stanley first un-shouldered his
Journey pack and set it on the coarse gravel of the route, between himself and
Caimnas. Then he told the shorter boy in a deliberate voice, "There is
something in my pack that once belonged to you. Perhaps now, you will feel you
might possibly find a more noble use for it, than the one you originally
devised."
Stanley's words had been carefully chosen, and they got the results he
wanted; Caimnas looked thoroughly bewildered.
"Go ahead and riffle through my pack," he advised his
classmate, adding moderately, "You couldn't miss it I'm sure, even though
I daresay you did today ~ not two hours ago ~ for the first time in the almost
three weeks since Graduation Day."
Caimnas knelt down and did as he was bidden, peering into the pack's
crowded depths, and pawing through the general disorder within it. He was
surprised things weren't stacked and piled and sorted neatly;
Stanley's cryptic hint ~ as to what he was looking for ~ hadn't sunk in,
so he came up empty within a minute.
He looked up at Stanley, his confusion evident in his face and opened his
mouth to say something. However, he closed it with an awkward smile, when Stanley
drew attention to something he had been cleverly hiding beneath his left arm,
since they had left the Dark Forest, by patting its cover.
"Oh, so this one in here isn't yours, then," Caimnas observed,
as he pulled out the second Field Guide from
His had been upside down in Stanley's pack, so when he turned it right
side up after taking it out, he noticed that the tops of the pressed pages had
been written upon to identify its owner, with a nickname in quotes between his
first and last names; 'Caimnas 'No Notes' Toutin'.
Standing, Caimnas did not spare a glance from his field guide's front
cover at Stanley beside him, as the boy bent to retrieve his pack, then
straightened up and fully re-shouldered it.
They all began to walk again, the two boys leading in front, side by
side, Crizanne trailing in their wake, with Kloe`e following closely on her
heels.
Opening the field guide’s front cover expectantly, Caimnas smiled and
nodded in an unmistakable 'I thought so' fashion. Raising his eyes from the
hardcover book, Caimnas beheld that
"Um, I'm really sorry about the scrawl on the inside front cover,
" he told Caimnas apologetically, making mindful eye contact with him. He
hung his head penitently and added clearly, "No excuse for it worth
mumbling or shouting in my own defense, but if there is a redeeming
point about it, that would be, it is written in pencil."
"No,
Crizanne gently placed a comforting hand on Caimnas’s shoulder and he
beamed a grateful half smile back to her. Turning his head to look forward
again, he sighed unhappily and added regretfully, "I'm just sorry I was
ever so worthy of it."
"Nicknames are good to remember life's little episodes by,"
Crizanne put in on Stanley's behalf, removing her hand carefully from the other
boy's shoulder. She squeezed in between the two boys and nudged Caimnas with
her right elbow in his left side. "But that nickname doesn't apply
anymore, does it Caimnas?" she demanded keenly of the boy.
Caimnas shied away from her intensely expectant gaze and sighed deeply.
"Well, as far as remembering," he replied abashedly, "I'm taking
note anyway ~ I owe my poke`mon that much ~ and maybe myself." He seemed
distant for a moment then roused himself and announced confidently, "It'll
only make me a better trainer and all around person." He returned
Crizanne's gaze finally and told her with uncertainty, "That covers the
second part of your comment too, I hope."
"Did you learn your lesson, do you think?" she ventured
further, quietly, not the least bit insist fully, afraid she might drive
Caimnas into a depression.
"Oh, yeah," Caimnas answered immediately, in a near whisper.
"I've taken good notes, and I'll keep them close to my heart."
There was a good long silence between the trio, broken only twice; by
Stanley whistling a little something to Littlown ~ now let back out of her
poke`ball and perched disappointedly but obediently on his left shoulder away
from Caimnas ~ and by Crizanne's whispered answer to a question Kloe`e had
asked her very quietly. Caimnas wondered if it was about himself.
When he had worked up his courage, he began deliberately,
"Stanley?" His sober tone caught up the other boy's attention
immediately. "With all overly due respect," Caimnas went on intently,
"can I call you 'Potion Master'?"
"Real Potion Masters might demand to see my license, at my
age," Stanley responded seriously, in a measured tone; he was unsure just
how to take the questing offer of the honorary title or nickname.
He stopped to think for a moment and Littlown chittered something clearly
in his ear, after doing which, she peered around her trainer's Adam’s apple to
give the other boy a sharp look.
Stanley gave her a severe glance in response to her comment, which made
her shy away, back out of Caimnas's sight again.
Fixing his classmate with a thoughtful gaze, Stanley bit his lip and then
took the tack of his thrumbir's unkindly reminder ~ but not without evident
hesitancy. "How about 'Musseedy'?" he suggested to Caimnas,
expressionless, fighting the spitefully amused twinkle that wanted to come into
his eye.
At this venture of Stanley's, Littlown's scarlet head reappeared in
Caimnas's sight instantly and she 'chirruped' in a 'Hah!' fashion.
"That is quite enough, Littlown!" Stanley informed the
triumphant thrumbir disapprovingly, with a gentle flick of her beak with his
fingernail, which was his way of saying 'first warning'. He took comfort that
she had never yet warranted his more forceful 'second warning'; a harder flick
of her tail feathers upward, which he knew she would find almost unbearably
humiliating.
Caimnas's eyes went wide and he was rendered quite abashedly speechless.
He never would have suspected Stanley could possibly have a spiteful bone in
his body, but if his poke`mon knew about that incident, then at least one of
his toenails was guilty of that blemish.
Between the two boys, noting that the one on her left was very cautiously
expressionless and the one on her right was looking on the spot and uncertain, Crizanne
could not resist the question. " 'Muzzeti'?" the red head broke in
with unashamed intrigue. "What is that supposed to mean or refer
to?"
"Never mind! It's not a good idea," Caimnas told her with
nervous abruptness in a 'drop it please?' tone of voice and a look that begged
'please don't ask!'.
"It is completely kosher, Caimnas," Stanley announced cheerily,
deciding he would ~ from this moment forward ~ look to that past incident with
fond memory. "Musseedy is the nickname I want." He smiled sincerely,
careful his secret amusement at seeing the shorter boy's mouth drop open, did
not taint its innocent, friendly quality. "If you will so honor me?"
he added significantly.
Caimnas closed his open mouth and nodded numbly. "Whatever you say,
Stanley," he mumbled.
"And the meaning of 'muzzeti'?" Crizanne pressed both
boys shortly, with a complete lack of bias as to who answered her query.
"It's 'Mus-seedy'," Caimnas corrected her quickly, with
a hint of a grin in evidence on his lips and certainly in his eyes. "And
the story behind it," he continued, "will probably slip out sometime
when I'm feeling unforgivably spiteful towards Stanley." His grin was full
now and sheepish as he inquired with a pleading look at the other boy,
"Would you mind terribly, Stanley?"
"Proud to be Musseedy!" Stanley answered merrily with a chuckle.
"But we can say it Crizanne's way," he pointed out, "and it can
mean the same thing to us." He winked at Crizanne and Caimnas as he added
with a straight face, "It will just sound like a kind of pasta to everyone
else."
Crizanne laughed dryly while Caimnas got a real laugh out of the point,
and then she complained sourly, "You mean to you guys. I'm not
going to quite egging you until you let slip the joke, Caimnas," she
warned him duly.
"That's all right with me," Caimnas rejoined, unimpressed by the
simplicity of her threat. He smiled his most charming smile and informed her
truthfully, "I've always secretly thought you're pretty."
Not flattered by the common compliment and unaffected by his attempt at a
winning smile, Crizanne responded flatly, "Stanley uses way fewer
contractions."
Looking suddenly and uncharacteristically nervous, Stanley leapt ahead,
and turned and held up his hands to halt his two human traveling companions. He
pinned Crizanne with a malevolent glare and opened his mouth to speak abruptly.
"We'er kaputted ya'll 'n me, ri' heah 'n naw dawlin' ~ 'n tat's ta
cawnsorn troot o' ta madda!" he said as quickly and clearly as he could
manage, with monumental effort.
Then he spun on his heel and took off running down the route, springing
into forward motion like a startled prado upon finding it has a wolven on its
rear paws...or a wolveness.
Kloe`e did actually spring to the pursuit of the rapidly departing
trainer, but it was in playful jest, not out of defensiveness toward Crizanne;
she had sensed Stanley's lack of threatening intent toward Crizanne clearly.
Besides, she knew it would be unlikely Stanley could step so far out of
character for real.
"Can you beat that?" Crizanne asked intently of her remaining escort,
inwardly cheering her eklotto on: 'Yeah, Kloe`e! You pay that cowardly
rattata back for 'dumping' me with such bad engli`se.'
She didn't appear to be chagrinned or exasperated at Stanley in the
least, so Caimnas knew she was meaning 'Can you manage to speak lousier
engli`se?' not 'Can you believe that?'.
"Easily, according to you," he replied saucily. Catching his
spite up by its vitals, he went on mildly, "But I think I prefer to
blossom in the other direction, for a change." And then he promptly broke
out in vocal bloom.
"It is true that thou are pretending to be unapproachable, but have
not struck mine soul and do not smite mine heart because thou can not be so
cruel, is it not? That which I have just spoken must be true, because if it was
not I would fall to the earth, should not continue to breath and thusly could
not behold thine beauteous countenance till my heart is contented, but die
hungering still for thou, in my last moments."
Caimnas had gestured with appropriate expressiveness until 'I would fall
to the earth', whereupon he had fallen to his knees in well acted anguish and
distress. Then his arms had hung limply at his sides until the very last, when
he had raised them and reached out to Crizanne, with the palms of his hands
facing upwards in a classically theatrical, beseeching manner. This pose he
held, waiting for her reaction to his efforts.
"Never did contractions sound so good in somebody's mouth," the
girl informed him solemnly, "and ~ Oh brother!" She broke down into a
fit of laughter.
Indignantly getting back on his feet, Caimnas waited patiently until she
caught hold of her funny bone and then said firmly, "No." She gave
him an inquerious look. "Boyfriend," he corrected her.
Crizanne's eyes widened in alarm and she objected sharply, "Just
friend!"
"Boyfriend," Caimnas insisted, his expression earnest.
A smile graced Crizanne's lips freely ~ a smile Caimnas remembered well
from school ~ and she suggested threateningly, "Maybe I'll cash in my
chips now and we'll just be friends forever. Hmmm?"
"You win," the boy relented quickly. "Friend...for now."
Crizanne eyed him thoughtfully for a long moment: his knowing smile, his
springy stride, his shining eyes...even his hand to his hair to straighten its mussiness.
"Maybe you're right, 'Friend'," she admitted, wondering silently how
strong he was going to come on after her threat. "But for now..."
She bent forward and took off, gracefully sprinting after the goodly
distant Stanley, shouting back over her shoulder at him, "Let's run!"
{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}{/.`~`.\}
:":": A Note From Caimnas :":":
Change is known as many things: improvement, decline, adaptation,
transformation, growth, evolution, metamorphosis. Humans and poke`mon refer to
it in many ways. One phrase we share with grass types is especially appropriate
to them and in my case as well, I having seen the need to change myself while
in a forest. Grass types will say solemnly when a time of change comes,
"I'm turning over a new leaf."
I've been turning over lots of 'leaves' recently, each one a further
improvement in my attitude and habitual actions ~ so I am told. Each one
difficult, requiring effort and patience ~ both new to my character, though the
latter more than the former ~ but I intend for each one to be lasting.
Helping me toward that end of eternal changes, I have a thrumbir now. I
befriended her ~ tamed her ~ the same way Stanley tells me he was blessed with Littlown;
I drew her with mildness of manner and kindness of voice, every cautious
gesture and gentle tone laden with beseeching sincerity. I wanted to come to
love her the moment I set eyes on her and she let herself grow fond of me, to
the point that I had already changed then, and even further always.
I find the species to be the most soul-searchingly observant I've had
close contact with so far, the perfect companion to self-improvement and I call
her Note Paddy. She helps me take notes, and reads them back to me for
application, so to speak. And she does speak to me. She can wag her tongue in
world class castigatory fashion and ~ bless her heart ~ she scolds me like my
mother never did, to my constant betterment and forever proving herself worthy
of my love.
A bit of advice: Hold all of them tight, never let them go...in your
heart. Your deepest memories of them will be your fondest ~ Always.
^T^T^F^I^1^|=S==O==U==N==D==T==R==A==C==K=|^T^T^F^I^1^
|\~\`/~\[+^+]/~\`/~/| Stanley's
Tribute |\~\`/~\[+^+]/~\`/~/|
FAITHFULLY FOLLOW
"Over lush, green hills, snow-capped mountains and their rocky
ridges,
across sparkling seas, storming oceans and strange, new continents,
through thick vale, hail falling, gale blowing and Destiny's calling,
Lead on! For I shall Faithfully Follow!
Never have you led me,
someplace I did not(didn't) want to(wanna) be,
because('cause) I am(I'm) always happy,
when I ((am in)(have)) your company.
Nothing is more important to me,
than the poke`mon I call my friends.
We all need someone to run with, to lean on,
and to navigate the river's bends.
I truly believe I was put on this earth,
to follow wherever you shall lead.
As one bleeds, so does the other heal,
as one heals, so does the other bleed...
So shall we heal and bleed together,
on this our Journey?
[(Chorus)] Lead me, lead on!
As far as we still have to go,
look back and see how far we've gone!
Don't know about you, but I'm looking forward;
because('cause) that is where, you are when you lead me.
Lead the way and I shall stay, your faithful follower.
Though the words of a tyrant be twisted and cruel,
and the Heltian Sun fail to rise(in the night sky)...tomorrow,
Though a lover's expressions be skin deep and vain,
and a warrior's cry, be called(given) with a sigh...of sorrow.
Always remember, things are rarely as they seem;
even(e'en) a harlequin's laughter may be hollow.
But let it never be said...be proved true,
that I did not Faithfully Follow,
the one(s) who lead/s me, steadfastly...ever you!
[(Chorus)]
Be the one(s) leading me on...and don't look back,
because('cause) I'll always Faithfully Follow!
I will always be, faithfully...
I will always be, following...
I will always be, following...faithfully...