By December, the river was sealed beneath a thick sheet of ice.
Through the glassy surface, fat fish could be seen swimming lazily below.
Ryan and his men, eager after a night's rest, arrived at the river early the next morning.
"Phew!" Ryan blew into his stiff, reddened hands and grinned. "Hold fast, brothers, fresh fish soup tonight!"
A cheer went up from the knights.
They hefted their weapons and set to work, chiseling holes through the ice.
Before long, fish, starved of oxygen under the frozen surface, drifted toward the openings.
"A fine harvest!" Ryan exclaimed. His face lit with joy as he barked orders to the others.
Buckets and baskets were lowered. Soon, the men hauled up a writhing pile of fresh, plump fish. Some flapped weakly, only realizing too late that they'd been caught.
Ryan couldn't help but beam at the sight. But then, among the heap, something unusual caught his eye.
It was a fish unlike the rest, bright red scales, two long barbels like whiskers trailing from its mouth, and fins shaped like a crown.
"What's this doing here?" Ryan muttered in disgust. He snatched up the Magikarp and scowled. "Sneaky little thing."
Without hesitation, he flung it away.
With a splash, the hapless Magikarp plummeted back into the river.
"Lord Ryan, why toss it?" an apprentice knight asked, bewildered.
"That thing's nothing but bones, skin, and scales," Ryan scoffed. "Hardly edible, unless you have some strange taste for chewing on bones."
He turned with a smug grin, only to find Lucien standing behind him, silently watching.
Ryan's eyes widened, then lit with excitement. He quickly held up their catch, eager to show off. "Your Highness Lucien! Tonight we feast on fish!"
Lucien: "…"
He had witnessed everything.
'Even in this age, poor Magikarp was despised.'
"Well done," Lucien said at last, his praise measured. His gaze lingered on the ice, then he added, "But if you catch a fish like that again… don't throw it away."
Ryan blinked. "Why not?"
Lucien's mind flashed with the image of a furious Gyarados rising from the waters, an outcome they could never withstand right now.
"Just follow the order," Lucien said firmly.
Ryan and the knights exchanged confused looks but did not question further. As knights, their duty was to obey His Highness without hesitation.
Several civilians carried baskets of freshly caught fish back toward camp, while Ryan and his men prepared to continue scouting the surrounding plains and forests.
"Your Highness Lucien, aren't you returning with us?" Ryan asked.
Lucien shook his head. "I have something to do. Go on ahead."
This stretch of riverbank had already been surveyed. No dangerous Pokémon were reported here; it was relatively safe. The perfect place for what he had in mind.
Lucien glanced down at his coat and tapped his chest. "Come on, Dratini."
From within the folds of cashmere, a small head cautiously peeked out. "Woo?"
"Let's test your strength. Show me Twister. Do well, and you'll have fish soup tonight."
"Woo…" Dratini hesitated. The cold air bit at her scales, but the promise of warm food gave her courage. She wriggled free of the coat and floated into the open.
Lucien straightened. "Dratini, use Twister!"
"Woo-woo!"
At once, violet Dragon-type energy surged from her mouth. It swirled, compressed, then spun violently into a small cyclone that roared outward.
Boom!
The swirling gust slammed into the frozen river, shattering a thick section of ice with startling force.
Lucien narrowed his eyes. 'Impressive… Even in her infancy, the move carries this much power.'
He exhaled slowly, the realization settling in. 'So this… is the might of Pokémon.'
Yet what startled him even more was her response. She had obeyed instantly, no confusion, no need for correction.
Lucien frowned faintly. 'How did she know what "Twister" meant? How could she match the human word with her own instinct so naturally?'
He glanced at Dratini, who beamed proudly back at him, her fins fluttering as though asking for praise.
'Perhaps this was a factory setting placed by Arceus, the God of Creation itself,' Lucien thought, unable to help the speculation. 'A rule written into every Pokémon from birth…'
"W-what did I just see?" Ryan's voice trembled.
Your Highness was commanding a monster. And it obeyed.
Lucien glanced at Dratini again. "No need to test Wrap or Glare. With her current strength, the binding power isn't much. Twister is clearly her strongest move right now."
He patted his chest. "Alright, Dratini, that's enough. Come back."
The little dragon shivered in the cold, then immediately wriggled back into his arms, snuggling into the warmth of his coat.
Lucien turned to leave, only to find several knights staring at him with wide, stunned eyes.
He raised a brow. "What are you gawking at?"
Ryan finally regained his voice. "Y-Your Highness Lucien… just now… were you commanding the monster?"
Lucien's lips curved faintly. "Yes. Why? Interested in trying it yourself?"
The knights blanched and shook their heads so fast they resembled rattles.
"No interest!" Ryan said quickly.
Magical beasts were terrifying, monsters that had taken countless lives. Ordinary people would never dare approach them, let alone issue orders.
And yet, the creature had listened to His Highness as if it were his soldier.
Lucien, unsurprised, studied their conflicted faces.
'So this is the fear of this age.'
If he told them outright that Pokémon were not monsters, but companions and family, they would never believe it.
But still… he could see it in their eyes. Curiosity. Doubt. A tiny seed planted this day.
'Can humans really command monsters?'
...
By the time the sun dipped, darkness swallowed the valley.
After a day of toil, the camp quieted. Families gathered inside thin canvas tents, huddled close to fires, breaking black bread and sipping hot fish broth.
For people who had been lost in the snowstorm for more than a month, this was warmth they thought they'd never feel again. A momentary return of happiness.
But behind the smiles, unease festered.
Would they truly survive the winter?
The food stores were limited. The firewood was scant. Each night grew colder, and any day now, another blizzard could sweep down to bury them all.
Their tents, mere cloth, would never hold against such fury.
Even without the storm, many might still freeze to death in this piece of ice and snow.