Waking up after being hit with some serious mon flavored bullshit was not at the top of Tristan's to do list. Yet this was the sixth time something like this had happened. There was that time with the over protective Gardevoir. Tristan had just tried to buy the girl a damn drink. The thing had knocked him out and teleported him into the garbage bins in the alley without a second thought. Okay maybe Tristan had also said some terribly cheesy line while trying to woo her. But it still didn't warrant such a response.
"Hey are you a Drifloon? Because I could just grab onto you and never let go."
Okay maybe Tristan deserved it on that one. Making a pick up line out of a pokemon that was notorious for killing children was probably not the best move.
There was also the time with the roaming Rapidash. Hurricane got him out of there before anything bad could happen.
The absolute asshole of a Haunter. The Haunter counted for two. It belonged to some shit trainer. So it wasn't going to kill him. Just try to embarrass him in the worst ways possible.
Then there was the encounter with the colony of Jigglypuff. That one was a little scary. Hurricane luckily got him out of that one too.
However, this one actually counted as the worst. Tristan could actually say that with confidence. And that was saying a lot. Tristan couldn't put into words how much of an asshole that Haunter was. Waking up naked and covered in who knows what kind of goo in the middle of the busiest part of Champion's Hold? That had been really embarrassing. How does one even begin to explain that sort of thing? It was a good thing Tristan is strong and fast enough to jump up walls onto the roofs above.
But then somebody calls in the naked man running terrifyingly fast across the city, hopping from roof to roof, so of course a patrolling Ranger gets called in to check it out. Next thing you know, you have to explain to your CO why you're naked and covered in goo, jumping from roof to roof.
It was a whole mess.
And that was the mellower of the two instances.
That fucking Haunter.
Tristan turned to Red with the biggest death glare he could muster. Right now he was forced to wrap his arms around Gallade, being carried around like fucking luggage, all because the village idiot decided to cut his fucking legs off.
Red giggled. "You look like Yoda and Luke. Back on Dogoba, when they had to train together. Yoda was clinging on Luke like a frickin backpack."
"I have no idea what any of those words mean. Besides the fucking backpack." Tristan was not very happy.
To him, life had been great. Sure, getting stuck with babysitting duty wasn't very fun. However, he did always get a kick out of showing the kids all the nasties in the wild. Especially when he showed how to deal with them.
Besides, Oak's kid had turned out pretty interesting. At least, until he cut Tristan's fucking legs off!
"Red. Why. I was rather fond of my legs, you fucking dick." Tristan's death glare had yet to recede in the slightest.
Red backpedaled, holding his hands up. "Your legs were all black and purple, mostly corroded. That shit was traveling up your bloodstream quick, so I had to make the call. Ranger Layton said it saved your life."
Tristan blanched as the idea of black and purple poison caused some memories to resurface.
First the area had been blanketed in a null zone. A void blanket, making psychic communication impossible. Hell, he'd heard of some psychics out there learning miracle eye to get past it, but that was some Elite Four level bullshit. Definitely something Gallade was incapable of. Hell, Norton probably couldn't even do it, and he was one of the Ranger's most capable psychics.
Then the razor leaves had started raining in from all sides. Gallade dodged a couple, but vines reached out from the shadows to grab them both. Tristan had his hand around Hurricane's ball, about to release, but the vine wrapped around his wrist made the ball drop harmlessly to the ground. Another two razor leaves tagged Gallade, and he was out like a light. Void energy really didn't mix well with Psychics.
Tristan, on the other hand, got to meet one of the nasties face to face.
Starfallen Ivysaur, in the flesh.
These fuckers are exactly what you don't want to see in the Endless Forest. In terms of the list of Mon that you absolutely do not bother fucking with, Starfallen Ivysaur was numero uno.
Sure, there were other mon that were more of an immediate threat. A rampaging Snorlax was pretty fucking dangerous. Hell, even an aggressive Nidoking in the middle of mating season, suped up on hormones and testosterone, posed more of an immediate threat than a Starfallen Ivysaur.
That wasn't what made them dangerous. The thing about Starfallen Ivysaur, they travel in packs.
Tristan barely got to look the thing in the eyes, staring into those cold black orbs, seeing the shine of a two rows of sharp teeth as the fucker grinned, before powder began raining from the sky.
Tristan tried to yell, to let the others know, but the Starfallen Ivysaur jammed a vine down his throat when he opened his mouth. Then, from the end of the vine, the Ivysaur dumped out sleep powder. Tristan didn't even know they could do that.
The last thing he felt was his legs being pulled into the flower, and then darkness.
Tristan no longer had a death glare on his face. He looked at Red with eyes filled with worry.
"The others. Are they okay?"
Red sighed. "I don't know. Siba ordered Hurricane to get us out of there. We've been stuck out here since. We couldn't leave with you in this state. Not to mention that Gallade used to be out too."
Tristan processed. That attack had been too organized. Starfallen Ivysaur were clever, sure, but they also wouldn't attack a manned Ranger encampment. They usually only fought battles they knew they could win. That meant basically every kind of prey, since stun and sleep powder tended to be pretty damn effective. But Rangers were one of the only things they were wary of. Especially in numbers as big as they had at the camp.
Those damn Ivysuar were notorious for picking off Rangers one by one, but the biggest group they had attacked before was no more than four Rangers.
Something had changed.
They didn't need to eat humans. As far as Tristan was concerned, no mons were so picky about their food that they'd risk death unnecessarily just to get it.
They knew exactly where Tristan and Gallade were situated. They'd been under a Zoroark illusion, which even they would be susceptible to.
The only people that knew what kind of formation Rangers used were other Rangers.
Tristan narrowed his eyes. But how would they have gotten the Starfallen Ivysaur to work with them?
"You're thinking. What are you thinking?" The annoying pissant that was Red decided to speak up.
"The attack was orchestrated. I'm trying to think who did it, why they might have done it, and how they got the Starfallen Ivysaur to work with them. I feel like if I figure out the answer to any of those questions, the rest will be easy." Tristan replied. He was too busy thinking to be mad at Red right now. Admittedly, Red had made a concise decision in the heat of the moment. A decision that had very likely saved Tristan. But guess what? Tristan rather liked his legs. So he was allowed to be fucking pissed. That could wait a little longer, though, since there were bigger fish.
"Layton was speculating the same thing. I also heard Siba and Layton talking about how the Saurs had been spotted far North just a bit earlier. Do you think that was intentional? Set a false sense of security? I know you stressed how smart these wild pokemon are, but from my experience they aren't really capable of that sort of plotting." Red cocked his head. "Actually, I guess dark types might just be a different breed. Myst might be that sadistic."
What? Whatever. Tristan needed to think now. He could figure out whatever a "Myst" was later.
Tristan looked Red in the eye. "You said Siba ordered Hurricane to get us out of there. That meant whatever was happening, it was too much to handle right? Or at least, he couldn't afford to have any Rangers stay and protect us, while also dealing with the Saurs."
"Yeah there were too many. They'd also used rage powder or something to get the wild pokemon nearby to attack."
Tristan narrowed his eyes. "Horse shit. Rage powder doesn't work like that. Siba would have…" Tristan trailed off.
Siba knew.
Siba knew they were being attacked. Not by wild pokemon. By somebody. Somebody who was organized enough to orchestrate all of this.
Getting Starfallen Ivysaur to work with you was no small task.
"How many? If you had to guess the amount of Starfallen Ivysaur, how many total?" Tristan asked. The less, the better.
Please be less than five. Please be less than five. Please be less than five.
Red cocked his head to the side. "Well there were at least ten in the main camp area, but they also had a couple traps set up North of the camp, where we ended up escaping out of. That path had over two dozen, just on its own. And since the other sides of the camp were also attacked, albiet by mostly wild pokemon, if I had to put a rough estimate for all of them, probably around four dozen."
Tristan's jaw dropped. His eyes were stark white, and began rolling to the back of his head.
This was bad. This was really really bad.
Siba knew they were all dead the second the attack started. He could feel the void field. There's no way he didn't.
He knew there was another hand in play.
If he sent Ranger Layton with Hurricane to get Tristan out of there, the hand at play would have done anything to slaughter them both before they could leave.
A random kid, on the other hand? There was no precedent for anybody surviving Starfallen Ivysaur poison. Not with this dose, or this long of exposure.
Tristan had already been written off as a dead man.
The kid wouldn't survive on his own, not even with a Ranger trained Arcanine at his side. They were heading North after all. Deeper into the forest.
Fully trained Rangers in their prime would find themselves struggling to survive a night alone in the Forest.
Yeah, no need for the hidden hand to reveal itself to prevent that disaster. That one could self implode on its own.
Siba knew they were all dead. He was mitigating damage from the get go. Normally, in this sort of emergency, Norton would be on immediate call to teleport everybody out of there.
The fact that it hadn't happened meant it was never an option.
Motive?
That was easy.
Actually, it was too easy. There were too many potential motives. A lot of those kids were the kids of prominent people in Champion's Hold. It wasn't easy to get into a training camp held by some of the most achieved Rangers in the Corps.
Take out those kids, the Rangers lose funding from some of their biggest donors.
Not to mention, those achieved Rangers have to hold back from massive attacks in order to not kill those aforementioned kids. By the time you split them up enough, you can start picking them off one by one and nobody would ever know.
Especially if you've got so many wild pokemon attacking the camp anyway, some trained pokemon thrown into the mix would fit right in.
Wait…
Red had said they were coked up with Rage Powder, but they would also be attacking each other and the Starfallen Ivysaur if that was the case. Rage powder was nature's amphetamines. Coked up out of your mind, you stop being able to tell friend from foe. All you have left is pure adrenaline.
Nothing said that any of the pokemon from that night actually had to be wild pokemon.
However, there was also the possibility that this was actually rage powder. Not normal rage powder. Some kind of new variant.
Shit. That was actually possible.
Starfallen Ivysaur were smart enough to cook up a new kind of deadly poison, all on their own. Guided by human intelligence, the idea of a new kind of rage powder variant was not just possible, it was probable.
Tristan dropped his head onto Gallade's shoulder.
They were walking towards something. Red had been talking the entire time, but Tristan hadn't heard anything he had said.
There was too much to think about.
If Tristan had to guess, nobody survived the attack. Well, nobody but him and Red. And that was by a crazy stroke of luck.
The Ranger Corps. took a serious hit if every member of the 3rd company died that night.
Norton serves as one of the intelligence heads of the Rangers. His reconnaissance abilities are top notch. Siba is one of the most stable figures of the entire Corps. You ever back into a wall, just throw Siba at it. He had yet to find a mission that him and his mon couldn't muscle their way out of. Layton is one of the veteran members. His speed made him an incredibly quick assassin type Ranger, specialized in taking out high profile targets and the like. Plenty of other specialists were among this team, each leaving a pretty sizeable hole in the Corps.
Not to mention Tristan. Tristan was supposed to be dead. He and Oblivion were an unstoppable tag team with Gallade. Hurricane provided indispensable backup.
Some hidden hand intended to accomplish something that night.
A Joltik dropped down from above, landing on Red's shoulder. "Oh hey Roger. Meet Tristan. He's the one who Hurricane and Gallade have been moping about all the time."
The tiny yellow and blue spider turned to Tristan and chittered excitedly. Extending its mandibles in what looked like a wave.
Tristan was taken aback, but hesitantly raised two fingers in response. Since he was using his arms to hold onto Gallade, it was the best he could do to wave back.
"New team member?" Tristan asked.
Red shook his head. "Nope. I'm just training up him and the other little ones for when we leave. They need to take care of the nest once we're gone." He said, looking around at all the electric webbing strewn about.
Tristan glanced around, noticing the hum of electricity for the first time. Normally his senses were better at that sort of thing, but ever since he woke up all his senses had been screaming at him that there was no response coming from below his thighs.
It had been a little distracting, to say the least.
Besides, Tristan paid attention to less things when he wasn't in danger mode. Gallade was relaxed, so Tristan was relaxed. Their aura connection made it so their emotional states tended to match each other.
All of a sudden the light thrum of the electric field faded. In fact all sound seemed to fade away. Everything became muted. The forest seemed to freeze, getting quieter and slower at the same time.
A spot of darkness formed next to Red. It started as a small dot, but grew as wisps of darkness were pulled from the shadows around them. The dot grew into a ball, a vortex, growing with each second as light itself began to get pulled into the spot of wrong.
The ground began to tremble beneath him. The branches in the trees above shook as leaves began getting sucked in.
Then, it all dissapeared. Everything went back to normal.
And instead of the vortex of darkness, there was a small red and black fox that was smirking at Tristan.
Red grinned. "And this is Myst. Caught him two months ago. First addition to the team."
Gallade rolled his eyes at the theatrics.
Tristan's face started to regain color as he realized the abomination that had sucked all the color out of the forest was just a small Zorua.
Tristan cleared his throat. "Wow. Okay. A Zorua. Not bad Red. Two dragons and a void. Quite the dangerous lineup."
Tristan narrowed his eyes. That had been a simple prank, but this was actually pretty worrying.
If what Tristan had half heard while thinking when Red was ranting off about his escapades earlier was right, Tristan had been out for three months. He had been with his two dragons and void type for two months.
Sure, Hurricane and Gallade could serve as some stabilizing influence, but those were more of a friendship.
An aura connection was a deeper level.
Red's emotions would be shadowed by his pokemon. But the opposite would also be true. The pull of aura was intoxicating. If you weren't careful, you could be consumed completely. Leaving nothing behind but a husk of what you once were.
The deeper the connection, the stronger the pull. Eventually he would feel the impulses and emotions of his pokemon as if they were his own.
So, that bright kid with a penchant for shooting off barrages of questions, even if he had a good heart to begin with, might already be gone.
To be fair, Tristan doubted Gallade would still stick around Red at all if that was the case. But Tristan needed to be wary about this sort of thing. It was his job.
There were three pokemon types that were notorious for bloodlust. Dragon, chaos, and void.
The wraiths of the distortion sought out cruel ways to play with their prey. They didn't need sustenance from the real world. The monsters of Chaos didn't eat food. Or at least they didn't need to. They got all their energy from the distortion. But that didn't mean they chose not to feast on whatever they found.
The beasts of the Void did need to eat, but chose to find the most efficient ways to do so. They tended to be lone wolves, simply because their efficiency meant cutting corners. Cutting corners meant that if stealing food from your neighbor was easier than hunting it yourself, that's the option they would choose.
Finally were dragons. The pride of a dragon was the source of some of the strongest abominations that existed on the planet. Many Legendaries tended to be depicted as dragons. The primordial forces themselves were thought to be dragons. Pride meant strength. It meant power. And finally, it meant conquest. Dragons believed they deserved to be on top. They would do whatever it took to get there. It was a road that always left a trail of blood.
Tristan gulped.
Red didn't have a ghost, thank the gods. That would have been the worst of the three. But a Zorua was potentially the closest to a ghost that you could get from a void type. They were far more clever than your average void. And more powerful too.
The fox was a powerful figure in the lore of many different regions.
Kanto revered Ninetails. Ninetails could live for centuries, and often disguised themselves as humans with their illusions and psychic powers to rule entire dynasties.
Few trainers in the entire world managed to evolve their Vulpix into a Ninetails. Hell, nobody knows how Ninetails got so much power. Vulpix are average combustion types, hardly raking in more firepower than a coked up Torchic. Yet somehow they turned into demons when they evolved.
Their counterpart, Zoroark.
Zoroark were less rare. Well, kind of. While they tended to be extremely rare in trainer circuits and the like, they were bred by the league specifically for their illusionary abilities. So certain Rangers in Starfall were assigned a Zorua, just as certain special ops in other regions would likewise be tasked to train them.
Since Zorua didn't have weird esoteric means of evolving, they were far more reliable than Ninetails.
However, the league assigned Zoroark didn't tend to be anything special. They could string up pretty illusions, sure, but that was kid level stuff.
They were the counterpart to Ninetails. The pokemon that was powerful enough to twist the minds of entire castles, building up dynasties that lasted centuries. Hell there's still speculation that certain world leaders could be a Ninetails in disguise.
League appointed Zoroark wouldn't stand a chance against such a Ninetails.
However, there were Zoroark out there that were just as powerful.
There was a legend in Unova of a Zoroark that could create Titans on a whim, obliterating cities with ease. It could turn day into night, or cast spells on the moon to turn it blood red. This Zoroark stood toe to toe with an entire squad of Unovan Black Hawks, spearheaded by two of their Elite Four members.
It fought them all off on its own, only falling when the Champion himself came down with his army of bugs.
Nobody knows how this Zoroark was able to cast solid illusions. League appointed Zoroark can't do anything like that. Basic light bending. Parlor tricks. But they couldn't actually affect the world around them.
That prank the Zorua just pulled, it had felt real. Like scary real. Tristan couldn't help but wonder if this Zorua was something special. Something esoteric. Something powerful.
With a Starfallen Charmander already being a potential nuke in Red's back pocket, Tristan was now extremely worried.
These pokemon were dangerous. Their willpower was off the charts. Dragons hated taking orders. Void types actually contended with dragons in that category. Unsurprisingly, the three pokemon types that had the greatest bloodlust also hated taking orders the most.
If Red wasn't careful, he would lose himself to those impulses. He would lose what made him Red. His own thoughts and ego would be amplified by the dark pulls of the Void and the powerful pride of a Dragon until it consumed the rest of what he was.
Misguided. Searching only for power, but with the creativity and efficiency to back it up? That would be a terrifying combination.
The world couldn't afford another Baldred the Dread. His twin Hydreigon had made the man raving mad.
Red bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to get moving. "Are you kidding? Myst here is just a big softy. Zuko might be a little crazy, but Azula's a sweetheart. Well, unless she's hunting for food. Speaking of, do you prefer Stantler jerky, Magikarp sashimi, or …"
Tristan tuned out, feeling a little lighter. Red still seemed like himself. Sure, he seemed like he got a bit cockier. He was definitely an asshole, but he seemed okay.
"So kid, I'm awake now. There's no way you haven't had the time to think about the next step from there. What have you got?"
Red turned back, facing Tristan. He held back a smile when he saw how Tristan was wrapped like a backpack on Gallade, showing a tiny modicum of respect.
"Okay. Well I had a couple plans ready. Basically the main components that changed what we do are whether or not Gallade can teleport enough mass for enough distance, and what state you were in."
Tristan nodded, so Red continued.
"Given that Gallade still can't teleport very far, we're going to travel in spurts. Basically, to start the day, Gallade is going to teleport you and I as far South as possible. Hurricane and my team will be in their pokeballs, which cancel out their weight because fuck mass conservation I guess, and then we can start our trek."
Tristan raised his eyebrow.
Red patted Hurricane on side, flashing a grin. "Ya know Hurricane here. He's a little grumpy from all the lying around he's had to do. So he's going to be our pack mule. He'll carry both of us, as well as all the supplies."
Hurricane groaned, giving Red the stink eye. Red booped him on the nose in response.
"I'll have Myst scouting the area. Zuko will be running point on defense. Basically, we'll travel as far as we can until lunch. We'll break down, eat some grub, and then Gallade will be ready for another teleport."
Gallade nodded to Tristan as confirmation.
Tristan was tremendously worried. Gallade never needed to rest that long to teleport before. Maybe if he did the entire length of here to Champion's Hold, but not for anything less than that. Apparently he couldn't teleport even close to that far, and needed lots of rest afterwards.
Gallade flashed Tristan a look, letting him know they could discuss it more later.
"Then, same thing. Hurricane is going to get us as far as possible. I've measured out the distance of Gallade's max teleport, and estimating with how fast Hurricane can manage with three riders in the forest, we should reach the edge of the forest by night 1. This is where things get tricky. Theoretically, Hurricane could continue on, and absolutely blitz through the Valley."
Tristan nodded. "But if we get caught, we're toast. Yeah I got it."
The valley was both the safest and most dangerous biome of Starfall. Safest when both factions were silent. Most dangerous since it became an active warzone whenever either side decided to make a fuss.
Getting between a scale and an alloy was far worse than being stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Tristan looked up. "So what? You want to rest somewhere in the forest? Make it to Champion's Hold on day 2?"
Red nodded. "I think if Myst can set up a perimeter, with Gallade rested, we can make it through one lousy night."
He grinned, showing off a lasso brimming with electricity. He also had other contraptions on his belt.
"After all, I haven't just been twiddling my thumbs here waiting for you to get better."
Myst barked in agreement. He promptly fractured, his form shattering like glass into pieces on the ground. It was really eerie. All the shards still showed Zorua. The piece of glass that was his eye moved around until it locked onto Tristan.
Then, Gallade jumped a bit as the real(?) Zorua walked between his legs, walking back up next to Red.
The glass had disappeared by the time Tristan looked back at it.
Myst turned around and snickered at Tristan, savoring his baffled expression. Tristan could already tell that training that thing must be a nightmare. He had no idea how Red managed to do it.
Red continued to talk, eventually telling Tristan to eat and get some rest, which Tristan certainly wasn't going to complain about. It's what his body had been yelling at him to do ever since he got up in the first place.
His mind couldn't help but wander towards all his friends. Siba. Norton. Oslo. Jeffords. Layton. He wished they were fine, but the sinking feeling in his chest held him back from being optimistic. He'd make them a proper ceremony when he got the chance. But first, rest.