A Matter of Principle

The sunrise over the eastern mountains was dimmed by a mist that swelled to rain in the early hours of the morning. My fortune. Electric abilities were increasingly powerful in the rain. More unwieldy, but much stronger. The streetlamps outside the Charlie Circle Stadium were still on this early. The light refracted in the rain made little haloes around the lamps.

Bartholomew sat with his legs crossed in the middle of the stadium. A quadrupedal Capmon was curled up in his lap. Long, grass covered its body like fur, damp from morning dew. A leafy tail wagged, vigorously slapping the ground. It panted with a long tongue covered in bark. Two flower-petal ears flopped down over its eyes. The Badge Trainer gently stroked the Lawnador with his hand. Its nose poked up as Zane walked across the arena, and it loudly barked.

Zane knelt down beside Bartholomew, “That’s a beautiful Capmon.”

“He’s old. I’ve had him since I was your age.” The Badge Trainer smiled, “This Capmon has saved my life before.”

“Did you ever want to be a champion?”

Bartholomew gently nudged the Lawnador to the side so that he could stand. It hopped to its feet, only for it to sit at attention beside its trainer. Bartholomew shook his head, “I think I told myself it was what I wanted when I was a kid. I never had the raw talent for it, regardless. The knowledge, maybe. It’s easy for you or me to think the skill of a champion is close to our own.”

“Cyan said she was making me her apprentice,” Zane replied.

“I remember when she came here for her second badge,” he leaned down to scratch his Capmon under the chin, “most of the people who challenge me have no idea what they’re doing. They’re hoping to get their first or second badge, and it’s my job to tell them they’re in over their heads. Kid, I know that I will enjoy myself more than that today. Win or lose.”

“I want to win, so that I can get the badge.”

“I’m giving it to you even if you lose,” Bartholomew smirked, “you’re tenacious, I can see that. I don’t give it to you, and you’ll come back over and over until you win it. If I give it to you when you lose, then you have to remember your loss and learn from it.”

“I can’t afford to lose, then.”

“You can always afford to lose. But what are the consequences of defeat at the wrong time?” Bartholomew offered a handshake, which Zane accepted. He watched as Zane crossed the field to his own trainer’s box. The Badge Trainer called out after him, “Win or lose, these things last forever. Grit is the only thing that can beat overwhelming talent. That is a combination of losses and lessons over months, years, decades.”

Zane sent Squirm first. Bartholomew specialized in leaf types, which struggled against insects and toxins. Prince and I were not to be considered, as lightning and water did little against such opponents. Even in the rain, I figured I would remain benched for Tenor, who would be at less of a disadvantage than I was.

I expected the Lawnador to enter the field first, but it remained comfortably seated beside its trainer as he instead called forth a plant that walked on its tall stem-like tendrils. A broad, fanged head spread out at its top, and long vines whipped around at its sides. Two eyestalks poked from the back of its stem, moving as they pleased to get a good view of the battlefield. A Venuvine.

“Try to sting it!” Zane pointed forward.

Bartholomew tilted his head side to side. He spoke calmly and coldly, “Create a decoy.” For a monster that was almost no more than a toothed head on a thin body, it bore the magic type and used it tediously. Its vines wrapped together and created a puff of smoke just in front of Squirm. The smoke slowly took the shape of the Venuvine before gaining its textures and colors, creating an indistinguishable replica of the Capmon. Squirm drove his stinger through the substitute. The smoky clone pretended to reel, but held its shape and maintained its distraction.

“The other one! The other one!” Zane called out. Venuvine tossed a group of seeds at Squirm that sprouted into long, thorny vines wrapping around Squirm’s body. He yelped as the vines pulsated and oozed, drawing the life energy directly out of their target. The parasitic vines remained stuck as Squirm flailed about, trying to approach the Venuvine.

“Finish it,” the Badge Trainer mumbled. The tendril-roots at the bottom of Venuvine ran forward before slamming down against Squirm’s shell. He was crushed and had to be recalled quickly.

I reached down toward Tenor’s Capture Ball on Zane’s belt. Instead, Zane set me down on the ground, “Alright, you’ve got this.” He took a deep breath. “Just don’t get tricked by that decoy.”

The substitute was weak already, and as the smoky form jumped about, it made sure to switch places with its creator. An all-out attack could destroy the obstacle altogether, but then the Venuvine would be given time to attempt to drain my life also. The dew in the grass stuck in the fur on my paws and lower body.

“A lightning type?” Bartholomew thought out loud. He looked up at the dark clouds overhead. “That’s bold.”

As they were talking, I raced toward the Venuvine to try breaking through its defenses. A launched off the ground, pouncing like Nyaro as my legs thundered behind me. Yellow sparks trailed behind me, hissing off my back. I hadn’t expected to go this fast at all, the wills of the Charlie Circle blurring all around me as I dashed straight past my foe, failing to stop almost entirely and finding myself simply disconnected on the other side of the arena. Even as a human, I’d never come close to running that quickly before.

The smoky monument pretending to be the Venuvine turned quicker than its creator did, attempting to interpose between me and the real Venuvine. The latter flicked a line of parasitic seeds at me. I tried correcting my position as the seeds twirled toward me, burrowing into my fur. I screeched as the thorny vines dragged across my pelt, the thorns cutting through and drawing blood directly from my veins. I sparked with electricity that rolled forward, cutting directly through the smoky clone and breaking it into pieces. The Venuvine stomped toward me, its roots tearing up the grassy field.

“Create another decoy,” Bartholomew folded his hands behind his head. I watched as another smoky figure built itself up in the middle of the field. I blasted it with more electricity as the vines dug deeper. My eyes fluttered. I felt sluggish. I saw the blurry form of the Venuvine starting to create more of the smoke. It wanted to stall for time while the parasitic vines slowly drained the life out of me completely. My core felt warm with a heat that tickled throughout my fur, coalescing behind my cheeks. The pressure built there, burning in the sides of my face until it split outward. The sky cracked, and a sound like a gunshot cracked through the stadium as a flashing bolt of lightning emerged from me. It arced up into the sky before slamming down from the clouds directly atop the Venuvine. I’d thought my lightning had been something before. It surged through Venuvine’s damp body, burning in its tendril-stems and leaving a cloud of hissing smoke off its charred body as my foe collapsed. The vines broke apart and fell to the ground around me.

Bartholomew held a Capture Ball out to recall the Venuvine. He waited a moment, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand. “I only brought that and Lawnador.” He pointed forward. Lawnador barked obediently and trotted onto the field.

Zane waved me back, and I stumbled back to his side. Lawnador had nothing to prevent it from hearing. Tenor could probably finish the job on its own. “Let’s try this!” Zane grabbed the special Capture Ball and released James.

The Pterrorkin screeched like metal scratching against metal. Though James was slightly larger than I was, the Lawnador was huge beside him. James beat his wings wildly, letting him hop slightly off the ground as he ran wildly toward the Lawnador.

Lawnador hopped back playfully as James drew close to it, then lunged forward, baring its teeth and growling. It snapped at James, who hopped over its muzzle. His talons landed atop the Lawnador’s head, and James leaned down to begin wildly pecking at the plant type. Lawnador panicked, barely throwing the Pterrorkin off before he could drive his beak all of the way into the Lawnador’s head.

James screamed at his opponent’s insolence. A red-and-blue light emerged from deep within the pterrorkin’s throat before flashing out of his beak in a beam of piercing light. The energy blast through the Lawnador to the ground, unable to get up.

“Wow…” Bartholomew recalled his ace, “I see that little one is quite something!” He tossed a badge to Zane.

“You only brought two Capmon,” Zane mumbled.

“You’re right,” Bartholomew admitted, “I underestimated you. Pity. I’d have liked to keep going. Well matched, Kid. I always bring a team that I think will be a good challenge for the trainer I’ll be fighting. Once you’re a master, why don’t you come back, and I’ll show you what my full power looks like.”

“I want to battle you at your best.”

“Then go become a master, a champion for all I care,” The Badge Trainer walked over and put his hand on Zane’s shoulder, “That’s what you want anyway, isn’t it?”

“Y-yeah… I’ll be back here when I win.”

“Good. It will be my honor.”