FLYING IN THE DARK
[letters seven and eight]
I got your letter a few days ago, but I've been putting off writing back to you. I just don't know what to say! Between the little lesson Olympia tried to teach me and your honesty, I'm not sure what to believe. I do know now that writing these letters is an outlet for you. For me, it's a way to forget. There must be some kind of theory out there, anyway, that says if you write something down and then stop thinking about it, it'll leave your mind forever. And then there will always be some official documentation ready in case you want to remember or prove the memory happened in the first place. My documentation would be in one big notebook with crisp white pages, some torn, some with folded corners, and most written with invisible ink and scrawly cursive...
Not that I don't appreciate you telling me what prison is like! I mean, I asked for the explanation, didn't I? And like I said, it was an outlet for you. I wasn't prepared is all. I'm like a walking contradiction, I guess. I want to hear about your life and then when you tell me things, I'm reminded that I'm nothing special, and it's hard. I wonder why you're telling me of all people. You have your cellmates, and the guards, and... Well, let's just say it's going to take a lot more than one teenager's wanderlust and determination to make a difference in such a crazy world.
...Okay, I'm ready to write about something that's not annoying, and worth sending. First I want you to know I'm worried about Enmity too and I hope you're able to find out what happened to him someday. That's not something I'll forget about. Also, I don't think anything about you is awful, except maybe the way you think you're awful.
Oh, and Ribbons has been sending these letters so far. He can find his way around without a problem and I know he'll come back. It's strange when he's gone, though... Kai and Seybs are strong, but I don't feel as safe. So I might make Kai do it. Seybs could do it, but he doesn't care for all the stimulation. As a challenge I sent him to Laverre one summer with Joey and his talonflame, and trying to keep up with such a speedy pokémon was hard for him. Joey told me that Seybs had to find ways to stop his talonflame to say they were going the wrong way, and each time Seybs complained for a while, probably just to get a half hour's worth of rest. Seybs is observant, and he's loyal enough to get the job done. I'll give him that much credit! But he's lazy, slow, and will take any opportunity to show you how bitter he is.
As for Kai... Well, he needs to burn off some of that energy he always has, and this seems like the perfect way to do it. Then again, he'd be the type to make a pit stop every twenty minutes just to eat some fruit... which, by the way, he won't share with his teammates. How am I supposed to make everyone get along when he's acting like that?
Seriously, though, sending Kai back and forth with the letters would be so easy. Ribbons always comes back with store-bought food for the team, so I know the prison feeds them. Do you know if they give out fruit, though? I guess I could promise Kai a feast or something when he's back, and then he'd be set.
Anyway, trainers do stuff like this all the time to stay in touch with their families and friends all over Kalos, since cell phone service is pretty awful. The only problem is... Well, when a flying-type's flying alone, trainers see them and think they're wild. Even worse, predators think they're prey. At least pokéballs are useless, but my pokémon aren't safe from guns or electric-types or anything like that.
Whenever I think of an accident happening, I think of the war 3,000 years ago. Flying-types during the war were used to deliver emergency medication between Pokémon Centers, which was really important when one town had less resources than another. Sending these letters to you is almost the same as sending medicine to a friend in need, and I have to remember that doing the right thing sometimes means taking risks and possibly making sacrifices.
Strange rationalization, but there it is!
So far I've told Ribbons to stay away from areas where hunting is allowed—near the Lost Hotel and the route north of Lumiose, I think are the only ones on the way to Laverre—but that doesn't mean he's gonna make it alright...
Thinking about this is making me a bit depressed, so... Let's move on? Now is as good a time as any to tell you what Olympia's “lesson” was. I didn't like the way she went about it, but I guess taking care of trainers is what gym leaders are supposed to do.
So she asked me to come to her house and babysit her solosis. I didn't know she had a solosis at all, and that should've tipped me off right away. I believed her when she said she usually took him everywhere, but tonight was an exception since she had an important dinner date with a member of the Elite Four. She told me I'd be paid and everything, so I was happy to do it.
“When I am back, I will show you what I want to show you,” she said calmly.
The babysitting job went pretty well. The solosis was super energetic. He bounced around non-stop and it was a game to see which one of my pokémon could catch him in the air first. Seybs won a lot more than Kai or Ribbons, since he had the biggest talons and was actually able to carry the solosis on his back.
Ribbons also let the solosis practice his psychic powers. The solosis lifted some small decorations, like pictures hanging on the wall and a vase, and he was able to put them down without breaking them. After that, Ribbons gave the solosis some advice. I really, really wish I could have understood that conversation! There was so much smiling and giggling going on, I felt a little left out.
Soon enough Olympia was home and she motioned for me to follow her. I told my pokémon to stay put, but they seemed startled, and suddenly I noticed that the solosis was gone and had seemed to vanish into thin air.
I asked Olympia where the solosis went as she led me to the kitchen. It was a large kitchen, even though she lived alone. All the cutlery and the appliances were floating in midair, and the black curtains covering the door to the yard were swaying without the help of any winds. I opened my mouth to speak, but everything was so odd that I forgot about the solosis for a moment.
Olympia pointed to the room we had just come from and told me that the solosis wasn't real. The solosis was simply an illusion she had created for me. I didn't know what to say... Why hadn't Ribbons noticed? I mean, Olympia's powers were far greater than Ribbons's, but still. What was the point of me “babysitting” then?
Of course, she seemed to read my mind. “You will meet many illusions on your journey, ones made psychically or otherwise,” she said. “You must be prepared for any tragedy that awaits you.”
I followed her gaze and looked at my pokémon in the other room. They were searching for the solosis, and before they could find out the truth, I ran in and told them it was time to go. I'm not sure if the truth would have bothered them, but I knew I didn't like it, so I practically shoved them into their pokéballs. I stood there, wondering if this was the Olympia I had heard so many stories about from my parents and the townspeople. I didn't think it was.
“Do not equate death with stopping. Do not equate existence with living,” Olympia said seriously.
Those words rang in my head, but I had no idea what they meant then, and I have no idea now. She held out a small amount of pokédollars, and I thanked her, then left. I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep so I woke up my family one last time, said goodbye, then left again.
Before that I'd never fought a gym leader, or even met one in person. If I did the gym circuit, and if during each battle I was judged by a gym leader... Well, I don't want any part in it, honestly. So I probably won't fight many of them, unless something changes my mind. And before you ask, I won't be telling my pokémon what happened. Now that I've written it down, I'll forget it anyway, right?
We're in Dendemille Town now. Altogether it was a 5 day journey, and we've been here for what seems like forever already, since the cold weather's mostly been making us feel bored and miserable. Luckily I remembered to pack my winter coat and warm clothes, otherwise I would have had to backtrack all the way to Anistar just to get some!
We traveled through Route 17 (or Mamoswine Road). When we first showed up, there was a mamoswine sitting patiently by the gate entrance, as if it had been waiting a long time to see me. It nodded to me, lowered itself and turned to its side so that I could climb on. It was strange, riding on a wild pokémon, but during the summer all the townspeople in Anistar would talk about going this way to take a mini-vacation to the wintry areas of Kalos. Because of that I figured that the mamoswine was trustworthy.
The mamoswine was only able to take a step before we heard a boy calling out from behind us. The mamoswine stopped and stared straight ahead, like it was used to this kind of thing. I'm not sure if there's a set schedule for the rides, so I didn't blame the boy for not wanting to wait. He was out of breath by the time he caught up, and he looked me in the eye and asked if he could ride. Confused, I told him of course he could, what kind of silly question was that? Then he pointed to my pokémon. There wasn't any room for him to sit if my pokémon were there. I returned them... reluctantly... but keeping flying-types out of the freezing weather is for the best. Their safety is more important than mine, after all.
When the boy hopped on the mamoswine's back, he tried to be nice about it, but the mamoswine grunted slightly. I tried to be polite to him, since I didn't want the ride to seem long and awkward. I asked him his name, and he told me. Kenneth Chitenay... A Kalosian name, but he has an accent I couldn't place at the time. I looked him over. He's a bit on the short side, with neat, curly black hair and hazel eyes. He wore a white neck scarf, which, to my surprise, he didn't use to cover his face. I assumed it was just there for show. He wore a long, red and expensive-looking trench coat, with dark pants and boots to match. I could smell some light cologne on him. The scent reminded me of grapefruit. None of this hinted as to where he might actually be from, but I got the impression that he cared about his appearance a lot.
“You're not from Anistar, are you?” I asked him. I felt like I already knew the answer, since I hadn't seen him around before, ever. If I had, I think I'd remember someone like him.
Kenneth shook his head, then motioned for me to look ahead. My legs were dangling over the mamoswine's body and, if I didn't move them, they'd bump into a wild bergmite sleeping on top of a tall mound of snow. Either the mamoswine didn't see the bergmite, or it didn't dare to stray from the path even for a moment. I kept my legs up as we left the peaceful bergmite behind and passed through more mounds of snow at least three times my height.
I asked him where he came from, then, if not Anistar.
“I'm from Hoenn,” he said, frowning. “Rustburo, to be exact.”
I waited for him to go on, to explain why he didn't seem too happy about it. Do you think he expected me to figure it out myself? After a few moments of silence I said, “I'm not too familiar with Hoenn, sorry. But it makes sense now.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What does?”
He pronounces some words wrong. Like, really wrong. He puts a lot of emphasis on parts of words, too, and his voice is full of... life, I guess? It's not monotonous like I'm used to hearing, anyway. Of course, I didn't tell him all that outright. I told him he had an accent and that was it.
“Makes sense indeed.”
He peered over to the mountains that towered over us. The view made me think we were at the bottom of a canyon and that we'd never get out. All around us were thick blankets of snow that drifted when the wind picked up. I shivered and pulled my coat tighter against my body. I changed the subject. “So what are you doing in Kalos?” I asked.
“Well, I worked for Devon Corporation for a while. Then my mom retired and wanted to move to Aquacorde, so she did. I didn't want her to go alone, so I came with and decided to try to the whole traveling thing. Though I'm heading to Lumiose now, just to see what the job market's like.”
“What about your dad?” The question came out before I could think it through. I hadn't expected him to spill so much information about himself at once, and so I assumed he'd just be willing to tell me more, no matter what it was.
“Don't know about him. Can't say I care, either.”
I apologized to him and looked away, too ashamed to make eye contact. I wasn't sure what I'd have done without my dad, even if living at home was overwhelming sometimes.
Then a thought hit me. “You said Devon Corporaton, right?”
“Did you know the famous Steven Stone?”
“Of course,” Kenneth said, waving a hand as if it was no big deal. “His father hired me, and once in a while I got a glimpse of him walking around the office building I worked at.”
“My mother works in a hospital. When she's not with the patients, she buys medicine from the Devon Corporation. She said that he was a great guy who traveled through Hoenn, digging through the earth to find minerals and herbs that would help people and pokémon get better.”
I never did understand, Markus, why I wasn't allowed to journey when she fawned over a famous traveler, but anyway...
Kenneth grinned. “He's a respectable man. One of the few that doesn't take Hoenn for granted.”
I asked him what he meant.
“Hoenn is unique to the rest of the world due to it's tropical climate. Instead of thinking he's always on some grand vacation, he finds beauty in the seemingly mundane. Hence his rock collection and fascination with steel-types.” He paused. “Not to mention he's the region's champion, yet he doesn't let the power go to his head. He helps others, as you noted, and goes where he's needed.”
Suddenly the mamoswine mounted itself up high and lurched forward with one sharp motion, causing me to start sliding off of its back. If Kenneth weren't there, I might have fallen right into the snow.
Or I would have been paying attention to where we were going. It would have been nice if the mamoswine had given us a warning, don't you think?
I asked Kenneth the same thing.
“Agreed,” he mumbled, dusting himself off as if a bunch of snow had gotten on his clothes. “Anyway, are you okay?”
I said yes and mentioned how I wish my pokémon could be out with me, but they're flying-types.
“One Kantoan species, one Johtoan species... Nothing from Hoenn?” he said, pointing to the pokéballs on my belt. I wondered aloud about how he knew that stuff and he answered, “If you look hard enough, you'll see that the top of each pokéball is translucent, more or less. I've tinkered with and made enough pokéballs in my lifetime to know.”
And it was true! I held Kai's pokéball in my hands and was able to see him nestled inside, curled in a tiny ball, like he was sleeping and dreaming about something nice. I smiled at Kenneth and said, “Did you make those special apricorn balls and everything?”
“Yes. Even the master balls.” What was so special about those? I didn't know, and he blinked, then laughed at me. “A master ball can catch any pokémon without fail, even legendaries.” The image of me catching something as amazing as Diancie ran through my head as he continued, “They're usually only given out to champions or winners of tournaments.”
Frowning, he said, “Groups like Team Rocket and such have stolen and replicated them before.”
I didn't know what this Team Rocket was, either, and rather than making myself seem stupid, I told him that no, I didn't have any pokémon from Hoenn.
“My mother has a volbeat she's been trying to find a home for,” he said. “If you're wanting to make your team more diverse.”
And again, I didn't know what a volbeat was.
“The firefly pokémon.”
“You mean lightning bug?”
“Maybe in Kalos, that's what you say. In Hoenn we'd call it a firefly.”
Uh huh... So, I'm not getting a volbeat because it's not a flying-type. I learned very quickly that Kenneth is the argumentative type, and even though the whole conversation was recorded, I only told you what I did so I didn't make him look bad. He's smart and nice... most of the time... but he acts smug when you don't go along with what he wants, or if you don't know what he's talking about.
I did mention that I was heading to Lumiose too, so we're considering traveling together. I can show him around Kalos that way, and he offered to help train my pokémon, since he's more experienced than me. What do you think? I mean, he seems reliable, doesn't he? Or do you need to know more about him first?
Hmm... Well, during the rest of the trip, he told me all about Hoenn's culture and its people. I'd go over what he said, but this letter is already getting long as it is! Sometimes I write and write and I get lost in it, especially when the weather is so dull. With the snow and the townspeople shut in, it seems that all Dendemille has is dull days, but me and Kenneth found a few things to do. I'll tell you about our visit to Frost Cavern and how we ran into the town's move specialists next time, okay?
You may put in your letters as much information as you'd like, and you may take as much time as you need to do so. I will be here, sitting in this cell, regardless of what you decide to tell me or not tell me. Just as I have not somehow disturbed you with my prolific stories and inane ramblings, do not think that if you wait too long to reply, I will believe that you have forgotten about me. I have been hoping that your visit to Dendemille has turned out to be more fruitful and fair to you compared to your experiences in Anistar.
I must advise you to, at the very least, be careful around this Kenneth Chitenay. What worries me is the intentional withholding of the later conversations between you two, but as you trust me, I suppose I must trust that you left those parts alone for no other reason than the ones you stated. Barring that, I'd say, albeit with hesitation, that he presents himself decently. Knowing he had a part in a renowned corporation dedicated to pokémon training seems promising, but the paranoia that I feel on a consistent basis warns me and compels me to consider any hidden motives.
Now that that is out of the way, I cannot say much about what Olympia demonstrated for you. Perhaps she has given you more to think about than you originally planned for. I wonder how this will affect you in the long-term, if it will at all... Illusions are omnipresent for some, whether they ask for them or not...
Sick, slow, slick and clean. That's the gist of how they work. The pit of your stomach feels awful at first, and your thoughts come to a near halt. Then your mind begins to process information at a faster pace; your thoughts suddenly turn profound and assertive, above all else. Slick and clean means you are beginning to understand—subtly, no less—what you should have understood at the start, though your emotions had gotten in the way of your practicality. Then the illusion disappears and you are either left with a sense of clarity or hazy memories that your subconscious locks away for future use.
...Illusions, as you might have guessed, are something of a specialty of mine. Either you will dismiss illusions as they come or you might ponder what they mean. Re-reading your ideas regarding forgetfulness, I assume you will find a way to mix the two options. Or perhaps you will ignore all I have just said and find your own path.
But Olympia's words... Do not equate death with stopping; do not equate existence with living... There rings a certain amount of truth to them, a sense of caution worth listening to. And that is all I have to say on the matter.
Ribbons has been sending these letters? I see... I was under the impression that natu cannot fly well because their wings are not fully grown... You must forgive me, but at the moment I am finding it hard to imagine a small, unevolved pokémon traveling such long distances. I am picturing Ribbons taking off and rising in the crisp morning air, then, after flying about forty, fifty feet, he tumbles slowly, and he is forced to land on the nearest branch or roof. After several days of this, I would safely assume that the time in between flying spurts increases. That doesn't even account for time spent sleeping or searching for food. If I were you, I would watch out for excessive panting, squinted eyes, and other signs of overexertion or sickness. If any of these signs are present, then you should end his adventures to Laverre before worse symptoms befall him. Send someone else in his place, as you have been contemplating. I would suggest Seybs. Kai might struggle just as well.
I do, however, vaguely remember you telling me of Ribbons's origins. Your grandmother—I believe she is the one who gave you Ribbons—retrieved him from a professional breeder, correct? If so, I might vouch for his skills based on this fact alone. The most exceptional breeders adopt special routines and tools necessary to maximize a pokémon's strength before it is born and while it is still growing. I would assume, too, that Ribbons is a bit older than you might expect. ...I daresay he may evolve relatively soon, should you train him properly and continue the gym circuit. But you have already deemed the gym circuit unworthy of your efforts, and so I will not argue with that.
At any rate, your grandmother offered only the best to you, and I commend Ribbons for doing the same given the restrictions he faced. If I may say so, on the assumption that saying so will make you feel better about the matter, it should be noted that laws were passed years ago for trainers who wished to communicate on the road. Hunting along the outskirts of Laverre and the northern ends of Lumiose may be allowed, but aiming to kill a trainer's pokémon for sport is a serious offense. To separate the wild birds of prey and trained flying-types, trainers are advised to have their pokémon wear bells or whistles. Predators, then, can identify targets easier, and at the same time, birds of prey might be persuaded to leave Seybs—or Kai—alone.
And as a final note, do not worry about sending these letters if you are worried for the safety of your pokémon. 3,000 years ago, flying-types transported medication on an emergency basis, yes, but they certainly did not extend that service to prisoners like me. It was, rather, the worthy members of society that received such attention, and I feel that that was the correct decision. Sacrifices, even now, are very unnecessary. You may deem me cynical, considering how I simply let the world conspire against me. So be it.
I must admit that I was bothered when I heard about Ribbons traveling to Laverre, and not solely because the aforementioned rationale. I do no meet the pokémon who send your letters, as you know, but I have a personal vendetta against Ribbons... Actually, it is not Ribbons I have issues concerning, but psychic-types in general.
Let me explain.
In your last letter it was implied that you and Kenneth visited Frost Cavern at least once. I do anticipate the retelling of your venture to the most nebulous area of Dendemille. I would be worried, but it seems the two of you made it through safely, nor do you seem to harbor a grudge for the place, as I do.
As you might know, inside Frost Cavern lies drifting snow and deep fog, both of which grab at your soul and nip at it with fierce persistence so that you experience absurd, yet breathtaking illusions. When I still had my starters, I had come to Dendemille to experience the sharp change of season. To the west, Brun Way always has the appearance of fall. The view consists mostly of scattered leaves, crunchy, dainty and tinged with reds and golds, as if the route could be set ablaze at a moment's notice. To the east, Mamoswine Road is where all becomes downright cold and dreadful. All is bereft of life on that formidable mountain.
Dendemille is a curious mixture of the two, which, I suppose, seems appropriate when you know the town's origins. The town was created to unite the two adjacent routes. For a while, pokémon from the surrounding communities were able to live alongside humans. Then Frost Cavern was discovered, at which point Dendemille became known for puppetry and other performances involving deception by psychic-types. Psychologists and philosophers interested in existentialism are drawn to the place, while residents catch or import pokémon from outside the area, as the local species have a reputation for being untrustworthy.
I leave to you the more precise descriptors of Dendemille and its history. That is your passion, which you should seek to evaluate with a clear head and unbiased mindset so that you do not fall prey to any illusions as I have. Olympia failed to mention this in her lesson.
I, of course, did not believe any blasphemy about the power of Frost Cavern. The way I saw it, nothing could overpower the high brought on by my choice of drug, that sublime spell I succumbed to each and every day. But what Frost Cavern had to offer was a hypnotic, wintry atmosphere that stole from me my senses. I do not remember walking along the edges of Halfpoint River to the cave's entrance, for my toes were too numb and my vision too blurry to perceive my surroundings.
When I arrived at my destination, a hypno was waiting for me. A sudden, overwhelming shift in my attitude toward drugs took over. With my whole being I now believed that if I continued to go under the influence—which I would—an overdose was inevitable. The paranoia was remarkable. It felt real, even though the thoughts were beyond my comprehension, beyond rationalization. If it weren't in my nature to be as disconnected from reality as I am, I might have noticed something was wrong. Or perhaps the illusion was that strong after all. The hypno motioned for me to follow, and I, strung out and feeling brave, obeyed.
The hypno's psychic hold drew me closer and closer to the heart of the cave. On the way there, he explained to me using telepathy other aspects of my fate as a drug addict. His words had a sort of transient beauty about them as they invaded my mind, but I couldn't confidently say that I agreed with them. There was a certain detachment in his eyes, and his features were set off-kilter as he told me that my long-term plans—as if I had had any to begin with—were now out of reach. Short-term goals were possible, but also difficult to attain. Friends and family would desert me, I'd be unable to maintain a permanent home, and I'd soon be an unwelcome member of society. There was no doubt about any of this.
New emotions stirred within me as I listened to the hypno's spiel. My passion for life became exceptional, and I was determined to change myself, to redeem myself in the eyes of everyone who had come to know me. I would swear off of drugs and remember what it was like to hear my parents say I could be anything I wanted to be, as long as I avoided trouble...
That passion dissipated as quickly as it came. The hypno had a hold on me now, not my parents. To console me, the hypno offered to teleport me anyplace I'd like to go with the limited time I had left.
His kindness did not serve to soften the desolation that followed.
The full realization hit me. I would not be able to fulfill my dreams, small or big. Though exhausted, I became fully alert. I was witnessing a profound understanding of weariness... and when despair takes over, you have nowhere else to go. You are ready to go anywhere. The rest of my life dissolved into oblivion, and I wished to die.
The hypno nodded and said that if I really wanted to die, he could make it happen—sooner rather than later.
In the deepest corner of Frost Cavern, a claydol awaited us. The pokémon, which was essentially a doll made of clay, symbolized Dendemille's love for puppetry. I knew it was a psychic-type, but the fact that it was also part ground-type living in a cave filled with ice did not strike me as odd at the time.
The hypno communicated to the claydol my despair using a regular human's speech. The round protrusion on the claydol's head detached from the rest of its body and spun in circles. “Death is the best possible outcome. It's the only darkness you can't come back from,” the two of them said to me, also in a human's voice, though it sounded like multiple other voices were speaking to me at once.
I imagined the claydol using its rainbow-colored psybeam attack to pierce me through the heart, and the hypno standing by, watching intently. And then the claydol would use my body to turn me into a clay doll myself...
Life never felt more somber, then.
I didn't think anyone could—or would—save me, and even if they tried, they'd use the chance to run away and leave me in the dust. But Chespin, Fennekin and Froakie abruptly popped out of their pokéballs and each let out a worried, yet resolute cry. I was shocked, and had not a clue as to where they had come from. Under the hypno's spell, initially I didn't even recognize them as mine.
I found my own voice or, at least, I think I did. The corners of my vision were starting to fade, but I could still remember that Fennekin was a fire-type and could melt this whole area if need be. “There's nothing you can do to stop Fennekin once I give the command,” I tried to say to the hypno.
The hypno stopped, contemplating what to do about this unforeseen circumstance. The psychic-type undoubtedly knew about my starters, but wild pokémon who have never been captured or confined in a pokéball, of course, don't know about the concept of potential energy. It is safe to assume that all three of my pokémon had been watching and listening carefully from inside their pokéballs. Once they heard the hypno's threat, they created a burst of energy within the sphere's force field, which enabled them to escape without my releasing them.
Slowly I was able to control myself again. After what seemed like an eternity, the hypno mumbled to itself, relenting and admitting defeat by teleporting all of us toward the entrance of Frost Cavern. I vowed never to come back, and to this day I haven't set foot in that wretched place, despite its allure.
What can I say? I didn't know my pokémon cared about me until that incident occurred. Outside the cavern, Chespin rammed into my legs, presumably either to shake off the rest of my confusion or to scold me, though he only added to the disorientation. Later on I'd learn from the move tutor that the chespin line does this both as a sign of anger and devotion, and also to strengthen their lower bodies as they prepare for evolution. Chespin was a leader and had the traits to show it. He represented the group while Fennekin and Froakie stood by, the former licking her paws idly and the latter blowing bubbles from his mouth as a sign of contentment.
Perhaps they, too, were deluded in their attachment to me, but that is not for me to decide. When caught in a pokéball, a pokémon feels a certain bond with their trainer, which is strengthened by the type of ball used. You can ask your friend Kenneth Chitenay about that, if you would like. If he is of any worth at all, he will understand the importance of the work he does.
One last mention of my pokémon before I end this letter: the prison guards should have Enmity's pokéball hidden somewhere, but I doubt they would give it back, not even after I'm a free man. I don't suppose Kenneth Chitenay would know anything about that as well, but I fear that last piece of Enmity is gone.
...What can I say? I've left so many friends behind. I can't forget that. You know I can't forget that.