***

  Sat at the marble table by one of the windows overlooking the city of Ever Grande, Councilman Nesmer finally went for the cup of tea Steven had poured him, now surely lukewarm. The Councilman had the tiniest sip of it and set it back down on the flat marble surface with a clack. He ran his fingers around the ‘o’ shape of his beard, stretching his mouth.

  Steven gazed out through the glass wall of a window, already sensing what the topic would change to. Here it comes…

  “I must say though, Champion, though you managed to persuade the majority, there are still some of us who are still not convinced.” The councilman turned his head and joined Steven in the gazing of the city below.

  Viseya, start now.

  The hidden Claydol replied by impressing affirmation on Steven’s mind.

  “You’ve surely seen the projections already. I speak on behalf of many of us at the council when I say this. Only as a reminder. Placing the shares you own at Devon Corp as security was a bold gesture, but I still wonder if such drastic change is what’s needed here.”

  …

  Steven tapped on the table idly. Slowly, his silver eyes swept back up to the councilman.

  “It’s not just my shares. I’ve secured deals with enough sponsors to mitigate the costs – you know this. Just because we won’t technically be in control of the money doesn’t mean we’ll face an economic crisis, Councilman. You’ve heard what I’ve heard from the Fortunes.”

  He balled up his ringed hand and tapped on the marble emphatically. “You’ve seen what I’ve seen – you come to me this morning to tell me of an earthquake in Lilycove!” He huffed, holding down a chuckle. “Now, as Hoenn’s League, our top priority is Hoenn’s welfare. I didn’t make this up – I had to swear to it before I was made Champion.”

  That made the councilman pull back with dissatisfaction. “But surely, Steven, reducing the trainer base by almost forty percent – and that’s if we’re being generous! – surely we’re crossing the line there… It will stunt the region. Think of Orre, forever languishing, suffering from their cripplingly low trainer ratio. A low trainer population is synonymous with poverty!”

  Steven’s eyes darted at the man, and he threw his head back in laughter. A full laugh that rose from the gut. The councilman didn’t look so amused.

  Steven pointed at him as his laughter died down. “That’s how I know you people are clutching at straws. The problem with Orre has never been the lack of trainers, Councilman, it’s the lack of wild pokémon. All of their issues stem from that. Hoenn is nothing like Orre, and suggesting it could fall to that state because of a little overhaul is hilarious!”

  “It isn’t little! Not little at all!” The councilman shook his head and took another tiny sip of his lukewarm tea. Steven noted the increasing furrow in the man’s brow.

  Viseya was, slowly, subtly, most assuredly, getting to him. The psychic pressure she was invisibly imposing on the councilman would only make him trip up further the longer he decided to stay.

  There were many ways to cancel out such effects, but most League staff wouldn’t think they’d need to apply them when stepping in for an informal chat with their own champion.

  If you ever felt inexplicably uncomfortable, intimidated, or irritated with someone all of a sudden, you should keep an eye out for the hidden psychic-type.

  Viseya was being expertly smooth. Councilman Nesmer scratched at his temple as he set his teacup down, oblivious. Steven faced him, chin lowering as his eyes rested on the middle-aged man amusedly.

  “Well, we’ve cleared the Lilycove business and you’re aware of the procedure to take. I only came in person because I was around, and I know you wouldn’t take anything I say seriously over the phone.”

  “No, that’s not true,” Steven replied. “It is the council which is not taking this seriously. You people have made this much more difficult than it needed to be when it is clear that the Fortunes are onto something. While we’re busy debating and arguing League finances, legendaries are debating whether Hoenn could use a cataclysmic remodeling. Even the public seems more sensible than the Council, Mr. Nesmer. When I head over to Lilycove, I guarantee you that I won’t set foot out of that city without some local warning me about their version of Groudon.”

  Councilman Nesmer was massaging his eyes with his thumb and index fingers. “The monster’s body is buried a mile deep in the ground,” he said with the first hint of weariness in his voice, “in a city guarded by the best water-type masters in the world. Hasn’t moved in lifetimes-”

  “Doesn’t need to move,” Steven cut in. “Doesn’t even need to be awake, it seems. It’s said to be the ultimate ground-type.”

  “There is a chance the Fortunes are wrong. Maybe this isn’t the work of a pokémon that has lain dormant for centuries. Perhaps you are working off a wrong premise.”

  Steven smiled fiendishly. “You’re right, we’re assuming these legendaries are one of a kind because they’re only ever seen alone. Who’s to say there isn’t another Groudon skulking around beneath the mantle right now? Or ten spread throughout Hoenn! – Picture that!”

  Councilman Nesmer sighed.

  “The ultimate ground-type!” Steven repeated, thumping the table, smile still plastered on his face. “We would be foolish to measure it by the same standard we do other pokémon.”

  The poor councilman looked confused for a moment, rubbing at his temple. “Try as I might, I still fail to see how cutting down our trainer numbers begins to solve this problem.”

  “It only appears that way,” Steven said with full certitude. He inhaled as he fidgeted with one of his rings. “It won’t truly affect our trainer population – it’ll only be harder for the chaff and those that are in it for a discount. That’s not what we should consider real trainers.”

  “Champion…” The councilman rubbed at his temple again. “We have plenty of aces and top-tier A-ranks that come up the current pipeline.”

  Steven squinted. “Did you see the same Conference I saw? The challenger shouldn’t be swept away like litter.”

  Nesmer’s eyes lit up. Finally thrown a bone! “And yet you and the Elites are insistent on ending the event at the earliest turn! For the heir of Devon Corp, that’s simply not good business sense! Do you know how many households tune out when the Challenger is defeated? Hint; a lot!”

  “Besides the point,” Steven scoffed. “Won’t matter how strong the economy is if the region sinks into the sea. If the Fortunes are right and a catastrophe is looming, a competent trainer body will be more valuable than well-balanced bank accounts.”

  …

  The councilman took another curt sip from his teacup and stood. His face was in a grimace. “Stubborn as always, and the tea grows worse by the minute… Next time I’ll just call instead.”

  ***

  Luvia kept close to the surface of the sunstruck ocean, pulled along by a harness-wearing Mida, and snaking through the waters like a mermaid. With goggles and a nose peg on, she could see crystal clear, and she could tilt her head in any direction without accidentally inhaling the ocean brine.

  The harness strap was tied around her wrist twice over to make sure she wouldn’t lose her grip.

  The distance back to the shore was quite far – close to 300 meters, the people ashore looked like gnats. Luvia had hitched the ride on Kevin’s ship to the race’s start point because everyone thought it wouldn’t be fair for her to swim herself there. That she’d make excuses if she lost. Luvia agreed because the only reason she’d ever be that far from the shore was if she was rushing back to it as fast as she could.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  …

  Every day, the spirit of the ocean had grown in her, but the underwater world was still unfathomable and scary, and whenever she looked through her goggles and peered into the murky depths below, she still felt like she was in the open mouth of an abyss that beckoned her to go willingly down into its belly.

  The pressure didn’t allow her to go very deep, though she had become quite proficient at equalizing her ears. Close to fifteen meters or so was as far down as she dared to go. Deeper than that, and the magikarp and tentacool became a slightly too common sight for her liking, though none had outright attacked her or Mida at any point.

  Tugging twice sharply on the harness, Mida knew that meant to stop. One continuous tug to slow down, one whipping motion to speed up, and left or right tugs to steer.

  It was intuitive. Easy if you practiced.

  …

  There was a rush of water to the side, above them as Kevin’s ship cut through the waves.

  He had actually improved the thing. Swapped out the tire for a modified tub. Swapped the stick mast for a hollow aluminum pole. Changed the sail from an old bedsheet to a waterproof patchwork of polyester. It looked like it had been stitched together from a bunch of different jackets.

  It was faster.

  If she had raced against this last time around, she would have lost.

  Good thing she was much faster too, or rather, good thing that she had learned how to move in the water.

  To not be such a burden on Mida, she had to continually bob her head up and down as if she were burrowing through the ground like a worm. The movement worked itself through her spine like a wave all the way to her hips, which would twist and rock as she stroked with her legs and returned the movement back into the ocean.

  It was like flying, but every shift in her body mattered. Every moment required an adjustment. It all came so naturally. It wasn’t something she had to think hard about, it was all reactionary to the way the water rushed past her face, her shoulders, her chest and tummy, past her hips and thighs, all the way down to her calves and the tips of her feet.

  It was addicting.

  She smiled inside when she caught a glimpse of Twilly above them, his wing kissing the water surface as the little bird tracked her and flew speedily to keep up with them.

  Below the surface, there were no swells to worry about. Mida and Luvia shot through them like flying arrows while Kevin bounced and splashed down, losing speed each time.

  The only issue to consider was running out of air – but she had that covered too…

  ***

  This freaking girl!

  Did she have gills hidden somewhere?!

  Did she have webbed feet?! … No! She had been wearing sandals, and he had seen no such thing.

  Then how?!

  Kevin whistled loud, sharp, and long through his teeth. Wika and Wiko screeched in response, wings beating faster.

  They were almost halfway to the shore, and this freaking girl hadn’t even come up for a breath yet, AND she was ahead of them – ten yards out!

  He could just about see her below the surface, in her blue wetsuit, rushing toward the shore as if she were one of those rare finizen or palafin. Her Taillow was flying right over the water too, letting him know exactly how far this fish-girl was ahead of him.

  Yeah, she was obviously a great swimmer and all, but that freaking Mudkip was mad fast!

  Not faster than Wika and Wiko could fly though!

  Three distinct thoughts passed through Kevin’s mind.

  First, he considered offensive maneuvers. Wiko could dive in there and disrupt her real quick.

  What happened? – Wild wingull, not mine!

  Second, his new boat was much better than the last, but clearly not fast enough! He’d need to modify it again, damn it.

  Third, it was time for his secret move!

  “Wiko, Gust Gate ahead!!!”

  With a shrill squawk, Wiko left formation behind the sail and shot forward, catching up with the fish-girl’s Taillow after several beats of his wings and overtaking them.

  Wika kept frantically blowing gusts against the sail, giving it her all to make up for Wiko’s absence.

  This freaking girl showed up an entire month later and she thought he wouldn’t be prepared?

  Then again, when you can swim that fast, it’s probably going to get to your head.

  Why the hell isn’t she coming up for a breath? Has she passed out?

  Almost immediately after the thought crossed his mind, the Mudkip shot out of the water and the fish-girl flew right out behind it, holding the harness strap. They flew in a shallow arc above the surface like a pair of leaping goldeen.

  That was the breath.

  This freaking fish!

  Kevin raged against the wind. Boy, how differently he had seen this going. Swimming the way she was wasn’t as easy as it looked. He knew because he had tried it with his birds many times, though they were nowhere near as fast as the Mudkip in the water.

  You would think that it was nothing, getting dragged around by a pokémon, but it wasn’t. It was tiring and you had to constantly keep moving as much as your pokémon if speed was any concern of yours. Cramps were another thing you had to keep in mind, and obviously, so was the air in your lungs. It ran out much faster than you’d expect in the ocean, especially the lower you went below the surface – the water pressed against your chest the whole time trying to squeeze your breath out.

  But this girl… He understood now how the raft had just been a handicap to her. Why would a fish need a boat? This was her real racing form. Her secret move.

  “Let’s see which secret move wins, then!” he yelled out defiantly.

  Gust Gate was a modification of Gust which his birds had been working on for the races. It took a little time to build up, but it was like a bunch of gusts in one.

  Wiko was better at making them than Wika. He built them faster. The flying-type gates of wind looked like a pair of twisters next to each other, only visible because of the ocean spray that would spin around them, and the way the water slipped between them like a running river.

  The move was a combination of Wing Attack and Gust.

  Wing Attack concentrated wind-power in a pokémon’s wings, and that was only possible if the pokémon had learned more acute control of the air.

  Old Man Sully had said so, and he was without question the best pokémon trainer Kevin knew.

  “That’s how them pokémon learn them bad, bad moves, hear me. When they be gettin’ smart and mixin’ the simple moves they know. That’s what them trainers in the mainland be doin’ to come up with new moves. Mixin’ and playin’ around till the world goes bums up and ready for a spankin’. Still good fun though.”

  Old man Sully was a dark-skinned homeless hermit with a jungle of white hair and a face lined with trench-deep wrinkles. He lived in the island’s wilds but occasionally passed through town or the beaches, late in the night or before dawn fully cracked.

  Kevin had spoken to him a few times at the beach when he would go there just as early to practice for a race.

  The old man had terribly thin patience for people, but he had a soft spot for islanders who trained pokémon – which weren’t very many.

  He believed it was only a matter of time before the mainland “took over” every island in Hoenn, saying that the television had thoroughly bummed the balance of the world.

  … Yeah, right.

  Kevin phased most of the mumbo-jumbo out, just not the interesting parts.

  Gust Gate was his own invention, but it had only been possible with Old Sully’s help. The hermit was there that first time Wiko and Wika mixed two moves together. Then, when Kevin tried to do it alone, it was like the pair of Wingull had forgotten how.

  It took another meeting with the hermit for Kevin and the Wingull to get it down.

  “When you be callin’ for a move, you hafta know exactly what you want to see. Don’t be givin’ your friends blanks and expectin’ them to figure it all out. We have no other use to them, so don’t go failin’ your only job.”

  …

  Wika screeched and darted forward, past Kevin, as a gale of wind uncurled from the Gust Gate twisters and blew against the race boat’s sail.

  “Gust Gate, Wika!!!” Kevin yelled over the wind.

  His ship rushed through the ocean while Wiko circled back after releasing the power of his Gust Gate and resumed gusting away at the sail to maintain the speed of the boat’s dash toward the next gate.

  Kevin was ducking low in the tiny hull of his boat, holding on to dear life as the wind watered his eyes. A smile grew wide on his mouth when he saw that the girl’s Taillow was getting closer and closer.

  There she was, the fish-girl, still dancing through the water like a pokémon. Crazy that she was doing all of this with two breaths.

  If she won this, it wouldn’t just be because her Mudkip was a rocket in the water.

  Maybe she wasn’t the spoilt, diving-suit wearing rich girl with a rare pokémon he had her pegged for.

  ***

  How were they doing that?

  Luvia twisted and faced the surface above her, harnessed hand stretched out as Mida kept pulling.

  How is he doing that? … Kevin’s boat was zooming over the water as if he had another pair of wingull helping him out. Maybe the wild ones were aiding him? Was that even allowed?

  His ship was catching up to her incredibly fast. She twisted back around and whipped on Mida’s harness. Faster, Mida!

  Mida rocked her small waist side to side, and her tail fin came to a stop. Her little legs kept kicking at the water. Luvia opened her palm and rolled the slack leash one more time over her hand.

  Then Mida’s tail switched back on, fast as a blur, blowing a strong current past Luvia as the girl joined her feet together and whipped her legs.

  The seafloor was coming up now, sloping all the way up to the shore.

  Lungs whined for another breath, but she would hold it.

  We’re not losing ?800!

  …

  …

  There was another whoosh above her, and she saw with petrified shock that the boy’s ship was level with them. She could hear the distant and frantic squawking of the Wingull, and the sharp whistling of Kevin.

  He’s cheating in some way! She should have had him beat for sure!

  Her lungs hiccupped and she jerked up on the harness. Composure lost, she needed another breath!

  Mida swam in a long, upwards arc and the pair of them breached the surface again.

  *GASP!* She sucked up a whole lungful of air.

  *chirp!* cried Twilly when they briefly joined him in the air.

  In a moment when time slowed to a crawl, she saw that Kevin and his Wingull had already pulled ahead of her and Mida.

  *splash!* Back into the ocean, stroking her legs madly, whipping on Mida’s harness another time.

  Owww… her muscles were tiring. She had to slow down or they’d start cramping.

  Can’t win…

  Bitterly reluctant, Luvia tugged back on Mida’s harness, and the Mudkip’s tail fin began dying down.

  They slowly kicked themselves to the surface, to Twilly’s delight, but the worst thing was that the shore had only been another ten seconds or so away.

  The beachside cheered in the distance as Kevin pulled away from Luvia. He was grinning back at her, gesturing with a raised peace sign.

  Luvia bubbled the ocean water around her mouth in annoyance.

  Twilly kept chirping happily.

  “No, Twilly, we lost!” Luvia sighed, bobbing up with the tide. “Swim, Mida.”

  Ughhhh… How annoying. But that boy had definitely cheated!

  Pokemon Geographic