Chapter List will be updated when I'm not a lazy ***. In the mean time, please bare with me and find the following four or five installments on your own.
SINNOH STORIES - THE LEGEND OF VOLKNER! HAS WON A FAN FICTION AWARD! It is tied in first place in the "Best Canon Character Centric" category in the 2010 Serebii Fan Fiction awards! Thank you all so much! I'm so excited! My tie was with Mrs. Lovett's "Roots". Check that out too when you've got the chance - I hear it's good.
- Prologue: In this post.
- Chapter 1: Haunting
- Chapter 2: Seige
- Chapter 3: Partnership
- Chapter 4: A Shocking Daydream
- Chapter 5: Fight!
- Chapter 6: Freefall
- Chapter 7: Hearthome Scramble
- Chapter 8: Pop goes the Volkner
- Chapter 8.5: Intermission I - Revelations
- Chapter 9: Flint's in the Fray!... or not.
- Chapter 10: Out of the Ruins and into the Fire
- Chapter 11: Shoot for the Stars!
- Chapter 12: Proposition
"... B-but, mom," the child protested. "It's boring here! I don't want to do what normal kids do; I ain't a normal kid!" He spoke with his arms folded over his thin and bony chest, a sky blue shirt wet with sweat clinging against him. On his shoulder was a yellow mouse, black stipes decorating its neck and wrists, diamond-shaped ears perked up as it listened to the conversation. The child was careful in his position, for if he were to let the creature fall, his mother would kill him.
His mother's face was flushed, red as a ruby, frustration evident in her eyes. Sweat oozed from every pore, giving her skin a slimy coating. She seemed to be nervous, but the boy didn't know why - perhaps she was concerned about his welfare, or some other ********. He didn't know, but in all honesty, he could have cared less.
The dominant emotion in his mind right now was anger: anger at his mother for refusing to let him do what he had proposed. It was a simple thing. He would simply take the mouse on his shoulder and head out, explore the world as a Pokemon trainer. He hated the creatures, but doing this would help cure the chronic, fatal illness that had plagued him for his thirteen years on Earth.
The illness was called "boredom".
"Volkner," his mother whispered. To the boy - "Volkner" - it was a vile tone of voice ringing in his ears. The moment he heard it, he lowered his arms and clenched his fists, his blue eyes shimmering with an unprecedented rage. "You know I can't approve of this. The practice is sickening: it's considered sport to pit these innocent things up against each other in fights! It's horrible that the government even allows it."
Volkner, in his anger and the angst of his teenagerdom, wanted to punch her. But his small moral compass told him a firm, "no", for this woman was still his mother. Even if she was being totally unagreeable.
"Now, I don't want to hear any more of it, boy," she said sternly.
"Up to your room, Volkner. You're grounded 'till you get this idea out of your head. Chuseph will stay with me."
He thrust a foot toward the floor of their home. He regretted it a moment later, as the marble was rather firm and painful to stomp on barefoot, but he did not flinch. It would be a sign of weakness, and weakness could not be shown right now.
"Chuseph, mom? Really? Not only is it a nickname for the dumb little bastard, but it's a ****in' stupid one at that!" he exclaimed. "The things don't deserve nicknames. They're less than us. Learn your place, and learn theirs, mom!"
In a moment of sheer devilish plotting, Volkner thrust his shoulder outward, and felt the grip that Chuseph had on his shoulder fall to pieces and watched as the baby mouse Pokemon fell toward the floor.
"Watch, mom, watch!" he thought.
But there was a bit of a chink in his plan. He had forgotten about the tan and brown creature by his mother's side, Abster the Abra. The creature extended a thin-fingered hand, and suddenly, a blue light surrounded Chuseph, and the Pokemon was brought to a soft touch down next to Abster. Volkner scowled, once again stomping a foot firmly to the marble floor, ignoring the mild pain.
"Ugh, wish he would'a fell," Volkner said with a grin, purposefully antagonistic.
"... Your sentence has just been extended, boy," his mother chided. "You have two options: I'll give you a direct sentence, and you apologize to Chuseph, or you can stay in your room all day except to eat, use the bathroom, and to go to school until you -do- apologize. The choice is yours. You can't go blaming all Pokemon for what happened. It's like blaming the entire human race for when one man robs a bank. It's -stupid-. Now, make your choice."
"But mom," Volkner said, but found himself unable to come up with a counter argument - he had put himself into a stuck position, only able to let loose a sigh to signify his defeat. He was considering apologizing to the stupid little Pichu, but decided against it, for his ego was indeed at stake... there was no way he could possibly make a stand here and walk away still clutching it, for he was the one who spouted those words, and to deny them now would be sheer hypocrisy.
He knew she was right. He didn't care, though. What had happened was still the fault of Pokemon, and he would forever hate them for it. He was considering apologizing to the stupid little Pichu, but decided against it: he had said what he had said, trying to make a stand. To deny his words now and apologize, there would be no way he could walk off while still clutching his pride. It would be hypocrisy.
So he ran toward the steps close by, black boots connecting with the wooden surface thud after thud, hand gripping the rail tightly. It hurt, friction burning at his skin. He didn't care. But he stopped just moments before he would have disappeared from his mother's sight, and spoke in a clear tone of voice. He had been wanting to see these words since the moment he first heard the "no". It was a sequence of words that any mother would dread hearing, and he enjoyed every letter that slipped passed his lips. She deserved them for her constrictive values, which Volkner knew not to be true values at all.
"I hate you."
He curved around the corner once he reached the top of the steps, the brown sameness of the dirty hallway blurring past him in his peripherals. With a force only an angry teenager could produce, he slammed the door shut behind him, turning around for a moment only to lock it and then leap onto the bed, letting loose silent tears and mumbles of the frustration that pulsed through his veins. Only when he looked up through blurred eyes to the window outside did he stop crying long enough to notice her, perched upon his windowsill, her brow contorting her gaze to show her bewilderment.
He reached the top of the steps and curved around the corner, the brown sameness of the dirty walls in the hallway blurring past him in his peripheral vision as he dashed. He reached his room at the end of the hallway and skidded to a stop, walking through on shaky legs and slamming the door shut behind him. He turned around only for a moment to lock it, and then walked over to his window and stared out at the dull ocean view.
The port city of Olivine was always dull. It rained often. The ships brought loads of trainers that sickened Volkner; those types who had given love and affection to their Pokemon. The ships also contained sailors: alcoholic, foul mouthed people who Volkner despised. These types ran loose in the streets too. Most children in the school system now tended to stray from him, telling him that he had blood on his clothes that would never wash off.
He gripped the windowsill tightly and turned around. His shoes rested at the foot of his bed, and without even paying attention to the thought of socks, he slipped them on.
He had a plan. He was going to get out of this window, scale the side of the wall and run. He didn't care where he would go: nor did he care that it was raining outside, the dull pitter-patter of droplets pelting his window ringing through his ears. He turned around and placed his hands on the windowsill once again, before nodding to himself.
"You might want to put on a jacket, first," a voice said.
He turned around and wondered just how he hadn't noticed it. In front of him, sitting near the back of his bed and nestled between two pillows, was a girl. She was absolutely stunning, her hair flowing in long black strands down past her shoulders. Her eyes radiated a calm, soothing mood, a smile plastered upon her lips.
"Excuse me...?" Volkner asked. He was hesitant to speak: in his normal mood, he would be all over her in an instant, and in all truthfulness, his eyes WERE all over her. Her dress was white, almost see-through, and he wasn't about to ignore the opportunity to observe the merchandise she had to offer. But still, in his current mood, he was wary of doing more than that.
"It's cold out there, too. If you intend to go out, put on a jacket," she said.
Volkner blinked, and walked over to a coat rack in the corner of his room. He slipped on a darker, royal blue jacket to cover his sky blue shirt beneath.
The girl giggled. "You really do like blue, don't you, Volkner?"
A pulsation of fear raced through Volkner's body at that moment. She knew his name. Was this some sort of stalker? He braced himself, preparing to put up a fight.
"Relax," she said. It was as if she could sense the tension he felt. "Volkner, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done so. I've come to help."
He relaxed a bit, as if her words were a legitimate reason to calm himself. He didn't know why he did... it was just as if she had this magical quality about her.
"What?" Volkner asked. "The hell do you mean?"
The girl patted the bed. "Sit," she said.
"Not until you-"
She patted it again, still smiling. "Please, I insist."
Volkner's legs moved on autopilot. He sat down right in front of her, sitting indian-style position, glaring at her eye-to-eye.
He couldn't last for long. His gaze softened until it was almost casual.
"I apologize," she said. "It's rude of me to call you by name without introducing myself first. My name is Mana. It's a pleasure, Volkner."
She leaned in closer, and Volkner did the same.
"I also apologize for my brevity. I'd explain a little further if I had the time," she whispered. Her tone sounded guilty.
Suddenly, the two of them leaned forward far enough for Mana to grab him and embrace him, planting a kiss tenderly on his cheek.
"So, yes," she whispered in his ear. "Sorry."
Volkner felt his world begin to spin: and he fell forward, going entirely limp. His face buried in her chest, but even as a pubescent boy, he had no time to enjoy it. His entire world was wrought with confusion, until finally, he felt his consciousness begin to slip away.
Just wait, child,
For I will do you a great favor...
... as long as you do me one first.