Chapter 25: Briv VS Elias
The motorhome had been parked for an hour when Briv finally stepped outside, boots crunching on gravel that hadn't seen a maintenance crew in years. The air hit him first—cold, clean, carrying the sharp bite of pine resin and the distant mineral tang of snowmelt. Nothing like Aethelburg's recycled atmosphere. No hum of bio-luminescent grids, no subsonic thrum of a million electronics bleeding together. Just wind through needled branches and the occasional creak of settling metal as the motorhome's systems cycled down.
They'd stopped at what Axel called a waypoint—a decommissioned ranger station tucked into a fold of the foothills, where the road dead-ended into a gravel lot overgrown with mountain sorrel. The building itself was a skeletal thing, half its roof collapsed, windows boarded with plywood that had gone silver with age. But the clearing was defensible. One way in, one way out. And Axel's paranoia had already paid dividends; his Rotom had swept the perimeter twice, finding nothing but a family of Sentret burrowed under the station's foundation and a flock of Starly roosting in the pines.
"Two hours," Axel had said, disappearing into the motorhome's rear compartment with a laptop and the encrypted drive Nicola had pulled from the factory. "Rest. Eat. Don't wander far."
Patricia had taken the advice literally, curling up in the motorhome's narrow bunk with Buneary pressed against her chest. Nicola had claimed a folding chair outside, Magnemite hovering at her shoulder like a sentinel while she reviewed battle footage on her PokeWatch. Dariana and Samuel had walked the perimeter together, Shellos cradled in Dariana's arms, Samuel humming something low and rhythmic that blended with the wind.
Briv couldn't sit still.
His body was exhausted—muscles aching from the factory sprint, lungs still raw from the chemical stench of the fabrication district—but his mind wouldn't stop spinning. The Eclipse Squad. Axel's data. The weight of every decision pressing down on his chest like a physical hand. He needed to move. To do something. To feel like he was more than just a piece being shuffled around a board.
He walked the clearing's edge, Chimchar padding silently at his heel, when he heard it: the soft chime of a Pokéball releasing, followed by a voice that stopped him mid-step.
"Well, shit. Briv Ambertone. Never thought I'd see your sorry ass out here."
Briv spun. Standing at the tree line, framed by shadows and moonlight, was a figure he hadn't seen in nearly a year. Tall, lean, with sun-bleached hair pulled back in a loose tail and a face that had weathered more sun than the average trainer's. He wore a faded green jacket over a patched-up flannel, jeans stained with mud and grass. On his shoulder perched a Caterpie, tiny and green, antennae twitching curiously.
"Elias?" Briv's voice cracked on the name, disbelief and something warmer—relief, maybe—flooding through him. "Elias Thornwood?"
"The one and only." Elias stepped into the clearing, his boots making no sound on the soft earth. His smile was easy, genuine, the kind of smile that didn't know how to be anything but honest. "Heard you were in the city. Didn't expect to find you camping out in my backyard."
"Your backyard?"
Elias gestured vaguely at the forest around them. "Greenbloom Town's about two klicks east. I come up here to think. Train. Get away from the noise." He scratched Caterpie under its chin, and the little bug Pokémon chirred contentedly. "What brings the reigning League champion to the middle of nowhere?"
Briv opened his mouth, then closed it. The truth—Eclipse, Axel, the factory, the data—was a tangled knot he couldn't begin to unravel. Not here. Not now. So he settled for something simpler.
"Running. Regrouping. Trying to figure out what's next."
Elias nodded like that made perfect sense. "Yeah. I heard about the League finals. The shit that went down after." His expression sobered, the easy smile fading into something more thoughtful. "You look like hell, man."
"Feel like it too."
They stood in silence for a moment, two trainers who'd once battled on the biggest stage in the region now standing in a forgotten clearing under a sky thick with stars. Caterpie wriggled on Elias's shoulder, and Chimchar chirped up at it, curious. The two Pokémon regarded each other—Caterpie cautious, Chimchar bold—before the little bug relaxed and Chimchar's flame tail flickered with excitement.
"You still battle?" Elias asked, and there was something in his voice—a challenge, buried under casual curiosity.
"Always."
"Good." Elias's smile returned, sharper now. "Because I've been waiting a year to rematch you. That League battle—" He shook his head. "I've replayed it in my head a thousand times. You beat me with strategy. Not power. Not luck. Out-thought me at every turn."
"You made me work for it," Briv said, and meant it. Elias had been one of the toughest opponents in the bracket, his Caterpie—refusing evolution, refusing to be anything but what it was—somehow holding its own against Briv's more evolved Pokémon through sheer tactical brilliance.
"I've gotten better," Elias said. "Learned things. Picked up new partners." He reached to his belt, unclipping three Pokéballs. "Three on three. Right here. Right now."
Briv felt something ignite in his chest—a spark he'd been missing, a fire that had been smothered by fear and urgency and the constant pressure of survival. This. This was what he lived for. Not running. Not hiding. The purity of a battle, two trainers testing everything they had against each other, no politics, no danger, just the beautiful violence of competition.
"You're on."
---
They moved to a flat patch of ground at the clearing's center, the gravel smoothed by years of rain and wind. Patricia emerged from the motorhome, drawn by the commotion, Buneary in her arms. Nicola followed, Magnemite's single eye glowing with analytical interest. Dariana and Samuel circled around, Samuel already pulling out his PokeWatch to record.
"Three on three," Elias repeated, taking his position at one end of the impromptu arena. "No items. No switches. Standard rules."
"Standard rules," Briv agreed, his heart already pounding. He looked at his belt, at the three balls clipped there, and made his choice. "Chimchar, let's go."
The little fire monkey leaped from his shoulder, landing in the center of the field with a burst of flame from its tail. Chimchar's eyes gleamed, muscles coiled, ready. Across from him, Elias nodded and tossed his first ball.
"Croagunk, show them what we've been working on."
The Pokémon that emerged was a strange thing—a blue, frog-like creature with a poison sac on its cheeks and wide, vacant yellow eyes. Croagunk stood still for a moment, then slowly raised one hand and poked its own face. It looked confused. Almost wounded. Then it grinned, wide and unsettling.
The battle began without ceremony.
Elias moved first. "Croagunk, Mud-Slap."
The toxic frog Pokémon scooped a handful of earth and hurled it with surprising speed. Chimchar dodged left, but the mud splattered across its flank, and Briv saw the flicker of annoyance in his partner's eyes. Accuracy compromised. Classic opening gambit.
"Chimchar, Ember."
A volley of small flames spat from Chimchar's mouth, arcing toward Croagunk. The frog didn't dodge—didn't need to. The flames splashed against its moist skin and sizzled out, barely leaving a mark. Of course. Croagunk's Water typing. Fire attacks would be halved.
"Fake Out," Elias commanded.
Croagunk blurred forward, faster than its sluggish demeanor suggested, and slammed both palms into Chimchar's chest. The impact sent the fire monkey skidding backward, and for a crucial moment, Chimchar's body seized up, flinching.
"Now, Poison Jab."
Briv's eyes widened. "Chimchar, jump!"
But the flinch held. Chimchar couldn't move. Croagunk's fist, glowing with purple venom, connected with Chimchar's shoulder, and the fire Pokémon cried out, stumbling sideways. A sickly sheen spread across its fur—poison.
Shit.
"Don't panic," Briv said, more to himself than to Chimchar. "You're faster. Use that. Flame Wheel."
Chimchar's flame tail blazed brighter, and the Pokémon curled into a ball, fire wrapping around its body as it rolled forward. Croagunk tried to sidestep, but Chimchar was already too close, too fast. The fiery impact caught Croagunk square in the chest, sending it tumbling across the gravel.
But Croagunk rose, that unsettling grin still on its face. It didn't even look winded.
"Poison Sting," Elias said.
Croagunk's fingers elongated, tipped with venomous barbs. It lunged, and this time Chimchar dodged—barely—the stingers whistling past its ear. Briv saw the opening. Croagunk had overextended. Its momentum carried it forward, off-balance.
"Now! Scratch, full power!"
Chimchar spun, claws extended, and raked them across Croagunk's back. The frog Pokémon screeched, finally showing pain, and stumbled. It turned, poison sacs pulsing with fury.
But Briv wasn't done. "Ember, point-blank!"
Chimchar inhaled, and this time the flames came hot and concentrated, a focused jet that caught Croagunk in the face. The frog screeched again, stumbling back, its moist skin steaming. Fire might be halved, but enough of it would still hurt.
"Enough," Elias said, and there was something in his voice—respect, maybe, or the grim recognition of a battle slipping away. "Croagunk, Venoshock."
The attack hit Chimchar like a freight train. Purple energy exploded from Croagunk's body, homing in on the poison already coursing through Chimchar's veins. The fire monkey screamed, convulsing, and Briv felt his heart stop.
"Chimchar!"
But Chimchar didn't fall. The little Pokémon stood, shaking, breathing hard, poison sapping its strength but not its spirit. Its flame tail still burned. Its eyes still blazed.
"One more," Briv whispered. "One more, buddy. Flame Wheel. Everything you've got."
Chimchar's body erupted. Not just fire—something more. The flame wheel that rolled toward Croagunk was bigger, hotter, a blazing comet that left scorch marks on the gravel. Croagunk tried to dodge, but it was too slow, too tired, too beaten. The impact lifted it off its feet and slammed it into a pine trunk.
Croagunk didn't get up.
Elias recalled it with a nod, his expression unreadable. "Not bad. But Chimchar's on his last legs. You sure you want to keep him in?"
Briv looked at his partner. Chimchar was panting, poison still working through its system, but the fire monkey looked back at him with determined eyes. It wasn't done. It wanted to fight.
"Chimchar stays."
Elias shrugged. "Your call. Drifloon, let's go."
The Pokémon that emerged was ethereal—a balloon-like creature with a cross-shaped mouth and stringy arms that drifted on invisible currents. Drifloon floated lazily, its eyes half-closed, looking almost asleep. Almost harmless.
Briv knew better. Drifloon was Ghost and Flying type. Chimchar's fire attacks would be neutral, but Drifloon could hit back with moves that bypassed physical defenses entirely.
"Chimchar, Ember."
The flames arced toward Drifloon, but the balloon Pokémon drifted aside with dreamy slowness, the attack passing harmlessly through the space it had occupied. Drifloon giggled—a high, unsettling sound—and its eyes glowed purple.
"Confusion," Elias said.
The psychic wave hit Chimchar like a wall. The fire monkey staggered, clutching its head, and Briv felt the connection between them flicker, distorted by the psychic interference.
"Fight it!" Briv shouted. "Chimchar, focus!"
But Chimchar was lost in the confusion, stumbling in circles, flame tail flickering erratically. Drifloon drifted closer, that giggle sounding again, and Briv knew what was coming next.
"Gust."
The wind hit Chimchar like a hammer, lifting the already weakened Pokémon off its feet and slamming it into the ground. Chimchar tried to rise, but its body gave out. The poison, the confusion, the relentless assault—it was too much.
Chimchar fell.
Briv recalled his partner, his hands trembling. "You did good," he murmured to the ball. "Rest."
He looked at Elias, at the still-floating Drifloon, and made his choice. "Turtwig, I need you."
The little grass turtle materialized with a determined chirp, its tiny sprout already glowing with stored energy. Turtwig had been waiting for this—Briv could feel it, the stubborn fire burning in the Pokémon's chest. Turtwig didn't know how to give up.
"Drifloon, Gust again," Elias ordered.
But Turtwig was already moving, faster than its stubby legs suggested. It ducked under the wind, using the momentum to close the distance, and launched itself at Drifloon with a Tackle that caught the Ghost-type mid-drift.
Drifloon spun, startled, and Turtwig didn't let up. It clamped its jaws around one of Drifloon's stringy arms and bit down hard.
"Bite," Briv said, and Turtwig's dark-energy-infused teeth tore through Drifloon's ethereal form. The Ghost-type shrieked, trying to pull away, but Turtwig held on.
"Drifloon, Astonish!"
The Ghost-type's body pulsed with dark energy, and Turtwig flinched, releasing its grip. Drifloon floated backward, wounded but not defeated, and its eyes glowed again.
"Confusion!"
The psychic blast hit Turtwig, but the grass turtle was ready this time. It planted its feet, refusing to be moved, and pushed back against the mental assault with sheer stubbornness. Briv could see the effort in every line of Turtwig's body, the way its sprout blazed brighter as it fought.
"Now!" Briv shouted. "Razor Leaf!"
Turtwig's sprout exploded, sending a storm of sharp-edged leaves spinning toward Drifloon. The Ghost-type tried to dodge, but the leaves were everywhere, a whirlwind of green that filled the air. Drifloon screamed as the leaves sliced through its body, and its form flickered, becoming translucent.
"One more," Briv said. "Tackle!"
Turtwig launched itself forward, and this time Drifloon couldn't dodge. The impact sent the Ghost-type tumbling, and when it stopped, it didn't move.
Elias recalled Drifloon with a shake of his head. "Damn. That Turtwig's got a mouth on him."
"He's got heart," Briv said, and Turtwig chirped in agreement, still standing strong.
Elias looked at his final ball. "Last one. And I'll warn you—he's not like the others."
The ball opened, and Chimchar emerged.
Briv's breath caught. For a moment, he thought it was his own Chimchar, somehow returned, but then he saw the differences. This Chimchar was leaner, its fur a darker shade of orange, its flame tail burning with a blue-white heat that spoke of intense training. Its eyes were sharp, calculating, nothing like the joyful mischief of Briv's partner.
"Meet Blaze," Elias said. "Been with me since the League. We've been training. Looking for a rematch."
Turtwig tensed, recognizing the threat. Chimchar—Blaze—was Fire type. Turtwig's grass moves would be super effective, but the type advantage cut both ways.
"Turtwig, Razor Leaf!"
The storm of leaves flew, but Blaze was already moving, a blur of orange that wove between the projectiles like water around stones. It closed the distance in seconds, and its fist, wreathed in flames, connected with Turtwig's shell.
The impact cracked the air. Turtwig skidded back, leaving grooves in the gravel, and Briv saw the scorch marks on its shell. That was Fire Punch. A powerful one.
"Fire Punch again," Elias said, and Blaze moved to comply.
"Turtwig, Withdraw!"
Turtwig pulled its head and legs into its shell just as Blaze's fist connected. The impact sent the shell spinning across the clearing, but the hard carapace absorbed the worst of it. Turtwig popped back out, slightly dazed but still fighting.
"Bite!"
Turtwig lunged, jaws gaping, but Blaze was faster. It sidestepped and countered with a knee to Turtwig's side, then another Fire Punch that caught the grass turtle in the ribs. Turtwig wheezed, stumbling, and Briv felt his heart clench.
"Turtwig, we need to slow it down! Leech Seed!"
Turtwig's sprout flared, and a small seed shot from it, arcing toward Blaze. The Chimchar tried to dodge, but the seed was too fast, too well-aimed. It burst against Blaze's chest, and green tendrils immediately began to spread, wrapping around the fire monkey's limbs.
Blaze snarled, trying to tear at the vines, but Turtwig was already recovering, drawing strength from the stolen energy. The scorch marks on its shell faded slightly. The weariness in its eyes sharpened.
"Now! Razor Leaf again!"
The leaves flew, and this time Blaze couldn't dodge. The Leech Seed slowed it, tangled it, and the razor-sharp foliage sliced across its body. Blaze cried out, flame tail sputtering, and fell back.
But it didn't fall. It stood, breathing hard, and locked eyes with Turtwig. Something passed between them—a mutual respect, maybe, or the simple recognition of two fighters giving everything they had.
"Fire Punch," Elias said. "Full power."
Blaze's fist ignited, the flames burning blue-white, and it charged. Turtwig didn't dodge. It couldn't. It planted its feet and lowered its head, shell gleaming, ready to take the hit.
The impact was seismic.
Turtwig's shell cracked—Briv heard it, a sharp report like breaking ice—and the grass turtle was lifted off its feet and thrown backward. It hit the ground and didn't move.
"Turtwig!" Briv ran forward, but Turtwig's eyes fluttered open, and the grass turtle slowly, painfully, pushed itself to its feet. Its shell was shattered in two places. Its sprout was dimmed. But it stood.
"Return," Briv whispered, recalling Turtwig before it could collapse entirely. "You've done enough. More than enough."
He looked at his final ball. One left. The one he'd been saving. The one he wasn't sure was ready.
"Piplup," he said, and threw.
The little blue penguin materialized, and the clearing seemed to hold its breath. Piplup stood motionless for a moment, eyes wide and distant, carrying the weight of trauma that had nearly broken it. Briv felt the familiar ache in his chest—the fear that he was asking too much, pushing too hard, that the fragile trust they'd built would shatter under pressure.
But then Piplup's eyes focused, and they found Blaze. The fire monkey was still standing, still burning, Leech Seed vines still wrapped around its limbs. Piplup looked at its opponent, then back at Briv, and something in its expression shifted.
It wasn't fear. It was resolve.
"Piplup, Bubble Beam!"
The stream of bubbles flew, and Blaze tried to dodge, but the Leech Seed still slowed it. The bubbles burst against its body, and steam hissed, and Blaze screamed as the water met its flames.
"Fire Punch!" Elias shouted.
Blaze charged, fist blazing, but Piplup was ready. It dodged left, then right, moving with a grace that surprised everyone—including Briv. The penguin Pokémon had been holding back. All this time, it had been afraid of its own power. But now, facing an opponent who'd overwhelmed Turtwig, Piplup wasn't afraid anymore.
"Water Sport!" Briv commanded.
Piplup's body glowed blue, and a fine mist erupted from its skin, spreading across the clearing. The air grew damp, heavy with moisture, and Blaze's flames dimmed. The fire monkey's movements slowed, its fire attacks weakened, and Piplup pressed the advantage.
"Bubble Beam again!"
The bubbles flew, and this time Blaze couldn't dodge. The water type attack hit home, and the fire monkey stumbled, its flame tail sputtering. It tried to counter with Fire Punch, but the Water Sport had dampened its power, and Piplup took the hit without flinching.
"Now!" Briv shouted. "Pound!"
Piplup launched itself forward, and its flipper connected with Blaze's jaw in a perfect uppercut. The fire monkey's head snapped back, and it fell, unconscious before it hit the ground.
Elias stared at his defeated partner, then at Piplup, then at Briv. His mouth opened, closed, opened again.
"Your Piplup," he finally said, "just beat my ace."
Briv picked up Piplup, and the little penguin nuzzled against his chest, exhausted but proud. Briv felt tears prick at his eyes and didn't bother to hide them.
"Yeah," he said, voice rough. "He did."
---
The clearing was quiet save for the wind and the soft sound of Patricia's approach. She touched Briv's arm, and he saw that the others had gathered—Nicola with her arms crossed and something that might have been respect in her eyes, Dariana with Shellos cradled against her, Samuel grinning wide.
"That was incredible," Patricia said. "All three of them. But Piplup—"
"I know," Briv said. "I know."
Elias approached, caterpillar still on his shoulder, and extended his hand. Briv shook it, and Elias's grip was firm, honest.
"You've gotten better too," Elias said. "Not just strategy. There's something else. Something harder to define." He looked at Piplup, at the way the little penguin clung to Briv's jacket. "You've learned what it means to trust."
Briv didn't know what to say to that. So he said nothing, and Elias nodded like that was the right answer.
"Where are you headed?" Elias asked.
"Not sure yet. Somewhere we can figure things out."
Elias reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, hand-drawn map. "Greenbloom's east of here. My family's got a farm—nothing fancy, but there's room to breathe. If you need a place to rest, to plan." He pressed the map into Briv's hand. "No pressure. Just an option."
Briv looked at the map, at the winding lines and careful annotations, and felt something loosen in his chest. "Thank you."
Elias smiled, that easy, honest smile. "Any time. And Briv?"
"Yeah?"
"Next time, I want a rematch. And I'm bringing the full six."
Briv laughed—the first real laugh he'd managed in days. "Deal."
Elias turned and disappeared into the trees, Caterpie still chirping on his shoulder, leaving Briv standing in the clearing with his friends and his Pokémon and a map that pointed toward something that looked, for the first time in a long time, like hope.
Nicola was the first to speak, her voice dry. "So. That Piplup of yours."
Briv looked down at the little penguin, still nestled against his chest, fast asleep. "Yeah."
"Where the hell has that been hiding?"
Briv stroked Piplup's back, feeling the steady rhythm of its breathing. "He just needed something worth fighting for."
The motorhome's door hissed open, and Axel appeared, silhouetted against the interior light. "We need to move," he said, and there was an edge to his voice that made Briv's blood run cold. "The Eclipse Squad just hit a convoy outside the city. They're looking for us. And they're getting closer."
The bubble of peace burst. Briv met Axel's eyes, and the weight of everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the road ahead—crashed back down.
"Where do we go?" Patricia asked.
Briv looked at the map in his hand. At the farm. At the promise of a few hours of safety.
"I know a place," he said, and folded the map into his pocket.