Chapter 13
The morning air in Elmsworth carried a freshness Alaric found oddly invigorating. Mist clung to the rooftops and fields, curling like faint smoke before dissolving under the rising sun. The village stirred with early activity—merchants preparing carts, women drawing water from wells, and children chasing each other barefoot through the dirt streets.
From the window of his rented room, Alaric von Astraeus observed it all with cool detachment, quill poised above parchment. He had written late into the night, recording every detail of his battle with the traveling boy, every weakness Perseus had shown, every flaw in the enemy's pattern. Now, by dawn's light, he reviewed those notes again.
"Perseus lacks endurance against rapid strikes," he murmured under his breath, tapping the parchment. "But his ability to read rhythm is improving. A foundation has been laid."
At his feet, Perseus stirred, ears flicking before the Eevee stretched luxuriously, letting out a quiet yawn. Alaric's expression softened ever so slightly as he bent down, brushing his gloved hand along the Pokémon's back.
"Wake up, Perseus. The world will not wait for us to be ready."
The Eevee rose with a flick of its tail, eyes gleaming with alertness despite the early hour. Together, they descended to the inn's main hall, where the smell of porridge and fresh bread hung in the air. Villagers and travelers dined quietly, but their conversations fell to hushed whispers as Alaric entered. Heads turned, some out of curiosity, others with a flicker of awe.
Word of his battle against the boy with the Mankey had spread faster than he expected. That suited him well. Reputation was a currency, and he intended to spend wisely.
The innkeeper's daughter approached shyly, carrying a tray. "Breakfast, my lord?" she asked, voice wavering slightly.
Alaric inclined his head. "Yes. And water for my partner."
As Perseus lapped from the bowl set before him, Alaric ate with measured precision, listening to the murmur of voices around him. The whispers were not subtle.
"They say his Eevee fought like a seasoned Pokémon…"
"…but he's just a boy, isn't he?"
"…no, I saw it. The way he commanded—it wasn't luck."
Alaric let the words wash over him, hiding the faint curve of satisfaction at his lips. Influence, once sparked, grew swiftly when fueled by rumor.
By midmorning, he and Perseus were back on the road, leaving Elmsworth behind. The dirt path wound between fields of wheat and wildflowers, bordered by stands of oak and birch. The cries of Pidgey echoed overhead, and occasionally, Rattata darted across the path, disappearing into the grass. Alaric kept a watchful eye on the movement of wild Pokémon, cataloguing their patterns.
Every detail mattered. Roads told stories. Where wild Pokémon gathered, where the land was worn by hooves or boots, where merchant caravans paused—all of it revealed the flow of people, goods, and opportunity.
By noon, they reached the edge of a small forest, its canopy dense and shadows cool. A wooden sign stood at the entrance, weathered but legible:
Route 3 – Caution: Wild Pokémon Active
Alaric's lips curved faintly. "Perfect."
They entered the forest, Perseus alert and cautious at his side. Shafts of sunlight broke through the leaves in patches, illuminating moss-covered roots and the faint sparkle of spiderwebs. The air was alive with the rustle of wings, the distant cry of bird Pokémon, and the occasional hiss of something slithering through undergrowth.
The encounter came swiftly.
From the shadows of a fallen log, an Ekans uncoiled, its purple scales gleaming faintly in the filtered light. Its tongue flicked, tasting the air, eyes locking on Perseus with cold hunger.
Perseus tensed, growling lowly.
Alaric's gaze sharpened. A true predator. Perfect to test their progress.
"Perseus," he commanded softly, "observe first. Do not rush."
The Ekans hissed and lunged, body striking like a whip. Perseus darted back, narrowly avoiding the fangs. The snake landed with a thud, coils tightening in preparation for another strike.
Alaric's mind worked swiftly. A Poison-type. Dangerous if Perseus was bitten, but predictable in its hunting style—ambush, constrict, strike.
"Circle it. Keep moving. Force it to reveal its rhythm."
Perseus obeyed, darting to the side, paws light on the dirt. The Ekans turned, hissing, following with fluid movements. It struck again, but Perseus leapt aside, dust scattering. The crowding trees limited space, but also limited the snake's angles.
"Good. Now—bait it. Feign weakness."
Perseus faltered deliberately, stumbling as if tired. The Ekans lunged eagerly, coils rippling, jaws wide.
"Now! Sidestep and Tackle!"
Perseus twisted, dodging the lunge by a hair's breadth, and slammed into the snake's exposed side with full force. The Ekans hissed furiously, its body thrashing as it crashed against a tree trunk. Leaves shook loose, falling around them.
But it was not done.
With startling speed, it lashed out, wrapping coils around Perseus's body. The Eevee yelped, struggling as the snake tightened, crushing the air from his lungs.
Alaric's voice rang out, cold and sharp. "Do not panic. Focus. Use your claws—strike at the eyes!"
Perseus's forepaws lashed out, claws raking across the Ekans's face. The snake recoiled with a hiss of pain, loosening its grip just enough.
"Break free! Slam it down!"
With a burst of desperate strength, Perseus twisted and drove the snake into the dirt, breaking from its coils. He staggered, sides heaving, but his eyes blazed with determination.
The Ekans writhed, stunned, but already preparing to strike again.
"This ends now," Alaric said, voice like steel. "Tackle—full force, center of mass!"
Perseus charged, every muscle straining, and slammed into the Ekans's midsection with crushing momentum. The serpent was hurled back, striking the log it had emerged from, and fell limp to the ground, hissing faintly before going still.
Silence filled the forest save for Perseus's ragged breaths.
Alaric knelt, inspecting his partner with a critical eye. Scratches marred Perseus's flanks, and his breathing was heavy, but his stance remained proud.
"Well done," Alaric murmured, running a gloved hand along the Eevee's back. "You were caught, yet you did not yield. Remember this—victory is not the absence of danger. It is mastery of it."
Perseus pressed against his leg, tail flicking weakly but proudly.
Alaric turned his gaze to the defeated Ekans. Its strength had been real, its hunger primal, yet it lay broken. A symbol, perhaps, of what awaited anyone who underestimated him.
As they left the forest, he noticed movement along the path ahead. A group of trainers had gathered, speaking in hushed tones. One of them—a girl with dark braids and a weathered cloak—pointed toward Alaric.
"That's him," she whispered. "The noble with the Eevee. They say he beat a Mankey yesterday."
The others turned, eyes widening as they took in his calm posture and the proud Pokémon at his side. Whispers spread swiftly, carrying the weight of rumor further still.
Alaric's lips curved faintly. The board was widening. Every victory was a piece placed, every whisper a move advanced. Soon, the world would no longer see a forgotten heir.
It would see a name carved into legend.
That night, at a campsite just beyond the forest, Alaric wrote again by the flickering firelight. Perseus slept nearby, curled tightly against the cold.
"The journey has begun," he wrote. "Strength gathers not only in battles won, but in the eyes that witness them. Today the forest tested us. Tomorrow, the world will."
The flames crackled, shadows dancing across his face. Above, the stars shone cold and distant, silent witnesses to ambition.
Alaric dipped his quill, eyes hard with resolve. "And I will not stop until even the stars bear my name."