Borne of Caution - Act 1: Chapter 22.1

With a deep inhale that fills his lungs with cool air, awareness returns to Grovyle’s body. The flood of sensations fills him instantly, and opening his eyes, he finds himself right where he was prior to his nap; the foot of young Brendan’s bed.

The sleeping form of his Master draws his attention first. The man, now devoid of his green jacket and boots, lays slumped length-wise on the too-small couch of the musty motel room. One arm is draped over his eyes, and the other is holding little Shinx close. The babe is sound asleep, just the same as her Master. Grovyle’s gaze traces the faint lines along the man’s arms, then to the angry, pinched burns that cling to his face. The final reminders of a world lost, and they’re seared into flesh to never be forgotten. Only in sleep does Lee appear at peace.

Grovyle bites down on his twig. Ghastly beyond words is a grave understatement for the phrase ‘mutually assured destruction.’ Such horrors happened long before his Master’s sojourn led him to the home of Grovyle’s colony… So why does it still feel like a personal failure?

On the windowsill, ever-sour Corvisquire stares out into the fog of the village. His face, his stance, his very being is devoid of his seething anger. On his beak is conflict, and his eyes are far away. His steely feathers now lay flat, but they’re unkempt and in need of preening.

‘Resist all you wish, the allure of one who understands will snare you before long,’ Corvisquire doesn’t seem to sense Grovyle’s eyes on his back. ‘All wounds heal, Corvisquire. Would you be so weak as to allow your own hurts to linger when your Master moves past pain much more vast?’ The gecko pokemon debates repeating his thoughts aloud, but decides the sleeping human and cub should not be disturbed by an argument.

Just to Grovyle’s side, Vulpix lays on her stomach on the too-hard mattress. The carefully controlled firestorm under her skin, usually pressing on Grovyle’s greater senses, is especially quiet. She turns her eyes away from the Master and young babe to Grovyle himself. “You’re awake?” She asks, voice subdued.

Grovyle resists the urge to scoff. “I would hardly call my rest ‘sleep’. There is much on my mind,” He says, sitting up and crossing his legs. He takes a deep breath and centers himself, folding his paws in his lap.

Vulpix nods simply. “I expected as much,” she murmurs, returning her eyes forward.

“Are you well?”

The fox turns her entire head to regard him with a raised brow. “Why do you ask?”

Grovyle pauses to measure his words. “Lee and yourself, you two are connected on a level deeper than words. Did you… see what he saw?”

His Master’s first pokemon turns away, staring at the wall without actually seeing it. “I felt it. Everything. Sensation. Emotion. All at once, I understood him, I understood humans, and I understood…” She halts. To Grovyle’s silent alarm, the vixen slowly begins to tremble and her unshakable image gradually crumbles. “Grovyle… I understood – I understand death.” Vulpix’ tails lash and she bares her teeth in a grimace. “I know what awaits at the end. Part of me feels as though that alone should worry me, yet all it does is raise the question of why I am, and what the point is.”

“…” Grovyle recalls the explanation of Vulpix’s ‘birth’ as he processes what she’s said. “Why you are?” He reaches out and places a paw lightly on her back, hoping to ease her shakes. “Have you told Lee that you’re troubled by all of this?”

Vulpix shakes her head with a sigh. “No. I shouldn’t. I need to protect him, not the other way around. He can’t hope to recover if he’s worrying about me.” She rises into a sitting position. “I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s one thing to comprehend the mind of a human, but another entirely to speak one-to-one, to formulate concepts into rigid human words.” She murmurs. “I’ll continue to improve my telepathy, then when the time is right, I’ll tell him.”

The Grass-type is silent. Then; “You’re not giving him enough credit. Do you think he’ll be pleased when he discovers what you’ve been hiding from him?”

The vixen’s lips pull themselves into a thin line.

“Oh? You’re wondering why you’re here and alive at this very time?”

Grovyle and Vulpix look up as Corvisquire flutters to the bed. The crow lands and eyes them with barely veiled annoyance. “Well?” His scratchy voice asks.

Vulpix’ expression becomes guarded. “Why the sudden interest? I was under the impression that you didn’t care to speak to us.”

Corvisquire sneers. “Ha! The human happily spills his guts and goes on and on about friendship, yet his queen furball won’t deign to speak to me.”

“The ‘human’ is your Master. It would do you well to remember it and address him properly,” Grovyle glowers at the disrespect.

The crow pokemon stiffens at the word ‘Master’. His jaw works as if to spit an insult, but he can’t seem to do it. He clenches his eyelids closed, but Grovyle can still see his eyes rolling in their sockets. His talons, strangely, don’t rip into the covers of the bed as expected. Just as quickly as the fit came, it’s gone again and Corvisquire reclaims himself. “Y-You…” His fury is almost palpable as he opens his baleful reds and glares at them. “Don’t you dare spit in my face! Especially not now when I’m lowering myself to help you!”

“Shhh!” Vulpix cringes and shushes the ornery bird. “Lee and the baby are asleep!” She growls as quietly as she can.

On the couch, Lee grumbles in his sleep, but remains still.

Corvisquire huffs, but his coat of feathers smooths over again. “You want to know why?” He addresses Vulpix. “Sometimes, most times, there is no why, you simply are. There’s no grand purpose, no meaning… but you’re different, queen furball. An aberration. You were born on purpose. For a reason. Tell me, in what world does being born from a human device make sense?”

A frown pulls Vulpix’ muzzle downward. “Porygon are created in such a way. They’re brought into this world as data given life.”

“Wrong,” Corvisquire shakes his head with exasperation. “Those things aren’t pokemon. Those things are cursed, they live half lives with the brand of the slave on them from creation.”

Grovyle crosses his arms. “Brand of the slave? I didn’t take you as one for drama.”

Corvisquire ignores him. “Again, in what world does being born from a human device make sense?” He slowly paces back and forth between Grovyle and Vulpix. “Your existence is one plucked from a toy and dropped into the lap of a human. Think! Why would you be here?”

The Ace of the team recoils slightly. “I…” She hesitates. “I don’t know. Lee said that nuclear energy is so powerful that reality itself can be stressed. That could be the reason?”

“Humph!” The crow draws himself up imperiously. “You’re mistaking cause with purpose. Try as you might, the cause of such supernatural events is beyond you or I, so to speculate is to waste your breath. The human isn’t an expert on such subjects anyway and is merely going by conjecture, so rely on his knowledge at your own peril. Think, damn you! Is there nothing but mangy orange fur in your head as well? I’ll give you one hint as to why you might be here.” He turns and looks pointedly at the sleeping human on the couch.

“Lee himself is my reason?” Vulpix asks with a blink. To Grovyle, her expression is quite befuddled.

Corvisquire croons. “It’s about time. There is no such thing as a coincidence, queen furball. Extraordinary events happen for a reason, and sometimes pokemon are born for a reason, rare as it may be. Quit being a mope and do as you were, and your purpose will reveal itself in time.”

Vulpix turns her eyes down the mattress, deep in thought.

Grovyle blinks, not quite hiding his astonishment. “You’re rather wise when you aren’t brooding or brutalizing someone in battle, aren’t you?”

The crow lets out a scratchy harumph and opens his wings. “If the human wants trust and camaraderie, then so be it. I’ll delight in taking it away when he fouls up.” He flutters back to the windowsill and resumes his silent vigil over the misty landscape outside.

“Do you speak from experience, Corvisquire?” Vulpix asks without looking up, voice little higher than a whisper.

Corvisquire doesn’t turn around. “Some are born for a reason, yet none of them ask for it. Curious, hmm?”