Chapter 66: Briv Trains
The high from Patricia's victory at the Rustwater Invitational had curdled into something sour by the next morning.
Briv woke to the sound of rain drumming against the window and the distant rumble of thunder rolling across Aethelburg's crystal towers. The city looked washed-out and gray, the floating bridges swaying gently in the wind, the canals churning with muddy water. It was the kind of day that made you want to stay in bed, pull the covers over your head, and pretend the world didn't exist.
But Briv couldn't afford that luxury. Not with three weeks left until the League. Not with Malcolm Vane's name burning a hole in his pocket. Not with the memory of Revan's warning still gnawing at the edges of his thoughts like a persistent rat.
He dragged himself out of bed, pulled on his jacket, and headed downstairs.
The common room was empty except for Dariana, who was stretched out on one of the couches with Eevee curled on her stomach and a half-eaten apple in her hand. She looked up when Briv entered, her dark eyes sharp despite the early hour.
"You look like shit," she said.
"Thanks."
"Patricia's still asleep. Nicola's out back with Tangrowth, doing that thing where she pretends she's not training but is definitely training. Samuel went to the market for breakfast supplies." She took a bite of her apple. "You're the only one who looks like they've been wrestling with a Gyarados all night."
Briv poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Revan?"
"Revan. Malcolm Vane. The whole damn thing." He sat down across from her. "I keep feeling like I'm missing something. Like there's a piece of the puzzle I'm not seeing."
Dariana chewed thoughtfully.
"You're not going to find it by staring at the ceiling."
"I know."
"So what are you going to do?"
Briv took a long sip of coffee.
"I'm going to train. I'm going to get stronger. And I'm going to be ready for whatever they throw at me."
Dariana smiled.
"That's the Briv I know."
---
The rain had stopped by mid-morning, leaving the city glistening and fresh. Briv headed to the training yard behind the inn, where he found Nicola in the middle of a brutal drill with Tangrowth. The massive Grass-type was swinging its vine-arms in wide arcs, knocking aside wooden targets with devastating precision. Nicola stood at the edge of the yard, her arms crossed, her brown eyes tracking every movement.
She noticed Briv the moment he stepped outside.
"Finally decided to join the living?"
"I've been up for hours."
"Brooding doesn't count as being awake."
Briv didn't argue.
He walked past her to the far end of the yard, where the ground was flat and the space was open. He pulled three Poké Balls from his belt and looked at them.
Piplup. Turtwig. Riolu.
His three newest partners. His three biggest challenges.
Piplup had been with him the longest, but the little Water-type still carried the scars of its past—the loss of its former trainer, the months of abandonment, the slow, painful process of learning to trust again. It had come a long way in the weeks since Briv had rescued it from that abandoned warehouse. It had started eating regularly. It had started sleeping through the night. It had even started playing with the other Pokémon, chasing Riolu around the yard in clumsy games of tag.
But it still flinched when Briv reached for it too quickly. It still hesitated before every command. It still looked at him sometimes like it was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Turtwig was the opposite. Bold, stubborn, relentless—it met every challenge head-on and refused to back down. It had evolved exactly once in the time Briv had known it, and it seemed to think that was enough. It had started slacking on its training, showing up late to drills, ignoring commands it didn't feel like following. Briv had tried everything—praise, discipline, bribery—but Turtwig had decided it was already strong enough and nothing was going to convince it otherwise.
And Riolu.
Riolu was the newest, the youngest, and the most complicated. It had hatched from an egg Briv had received from an old trainer in the mountains—a gift, the man had said, for a kindness Briv didn't even remember performing. Riolu had imprinted on Briv immediately, following him everywhere, sleeping in his lap, mimicking his movements. It could sense emotions through aura—a gift that made it both incredibly empathetic and incredibly sensitive. When Briv was stressed, Riolu panicked. When Briv was calm, Riolu thrived.
It was a lot of pressure. But Briv had learned to manage.
He released all three Pokémon onto the field.
Piplup appeared first, blinking in the gray morning light. Turtwig materialized next, stretching its stubby legs. Riolu burst out last, immediately running to Briv's side and pressing its head against his leg.
"Alright," Briv said. "We're doing something different today."
Piplup cocked its head.
Turtwig yawned.
Riolu looked up at him with those big red eyes.
"We're going to find someone to battle. A stranger. Someone who doesn't know our patterns, our weaknesses, our tells." He looked at each of them in turn. "And we're going to win."
Riolu barked excitedly.
Turtwig shrugged.
Piplup looked away.
Briv knelt down and met Piplup's eyes.
"I know you're scared. I know you've been hurt before. But I need you to trust me." He held out his hand. "Can you do that?"
Piplup stared at his hand.
Then, slowly, it reached out and pressed its flipper against his palm.
Briv smiled.
"Good. Let's go."
---
The lower districts of Aethelburg were a different world from the crystal towers and floating bridges of the upper city. The streets here were narrow and winding, the buildings packed close together, the air thick with the smell of fish and smoke and wet stone. Trainers gathered in makeshift arenas—empty lots, abandoned warehouses, even the occasional rooftop—and battled for pride, for money, for the sheer thrill of competition.
Briv found a likely spot near the canals—a wide, flat clearing between two crumbling buildings where a small crowd had gathered to watch a pair of trainers go at it. He watched for a few minutes, studying the fighters, gauging their skill level.
They were decent. Not great. But decent.
He waited until their battle ended, then stepped forward.
"I'm looking for a match," he said. "Three-on-three. Any takers?"
The crowd murmured.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
He was tall and lean, with dark skin and close-cropped hair. He wore a simple gray jacket and carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had been battling for a long time. His eyes were calm, appraising, and they flicked over Briv with the kind of scrutiny that made Briv feel like he was being weighed and measured.
"I'll take that match," the man said.
Briv nodded.
"Name's Briv."
"Elias."
They shook hands.
And then, from the edge of the crowd, a familiar voice cut through the murmur.
"I'll referee."
Briv turned.
Axel Dualblade stepped into the clearing, his chestnut hair damp from the earlier rain, his green eyes sharp and amused. Rotom flickered at his shoulder, its orange body crackling with electricity.
"Axel," Briv said. "You're here?"
"I'm everywhere." Axel smiled. "It's a gift."
Elias looked at Axel.
"You're a referee?"
"I'm a lot of things." Axel pulled a small tablet from his jacket. "Standard rules. Three-on-three. No substitutions. The battle ends when one trainer has no Pokémon remaining. Are you both ready?"
Briv looked at Elias.
Elias looked at Briv.
"Ready," they said in unison.
---
Elias moved first.
"Azurill," he said.
The ball opened in a flash of blue light, and a tiny Pokémon materialized on the field—a small, round creature with a blue body, a white belly, and a tail that ended in a bouncy, rubbery ball. Azurill bounced on its tail, its big round eyes blinking in the gray light.
Briv considered his options.
Azurill was a Water-type, small but surprisingly tough. It had access to moves like Charm, Water Gun, and Slam, and its ability—Huge Power—made its physical attacks deceptively strong.
He needed to start with someone who could handle speed and power.
"Piplup," he said.
Piplup appeared in a burst of blue light, its regal posture slightly undermined by the way it kept glancing at Briv for reassurance. The little Water-type stood on the field, its flippers pressed together, its sad eyes fixed on Azurill.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Azurill moved first.
"Water Gun!"
A jet of water shot toward Piplup.
"Piplup—dodge!"
Piplup dodged.
Barely.
The water grazed its wing, and Piplup stumbled, its balance off, its confidence shaken.
"Again!" Elias shouted.
Another Water Gun.
"Piplup—Bubble!"
Piplup fired a stream of bubbles, and the two attacks collided midair. Steam hissed through the clearing as water met water.
"Now—Slam!" Elias shouted.
Azurill bounced forward, its tail slamming into Piplup's chest.
Piplup flew backward.
It hit the ground hard.
"Get up!" Briv shouted.
Piplup didn't get up.
It lay there on the wet stone, its body trembling, its eyes squeezed shut. It was remembering—Briv could see it in the way its flippers clenched, the way its breath came in short, panicked gasps. It was remembering the last time it had been knocked down. The last time no one had come for it.
"Piplup," Briv said, his voice softer now. "I'm right here."
Piplup opened its eyes.
Briv was standing at the edge of the field, his hand extended, his expression calm.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Piplup stared at him.
Then, slowly, it pushed itself to its feet.
"Good," Briv said. "Now—Pound!"
Piplup charged forward, its flipper glowing with energy.
Azurill braced for impact.
Piplup struck.
Azurill flew across the field, bounced off the wall, and landed in a heap.
"Azurill is unable to battle," Axel said. "Piplup wins."
---
Elias recalled Azurill.
He didn't look upset. He looked interested.
"Your Piplup's got heart," he said. "I'll give you that."
"He's got more than heart," Briv said.
"We'll see."
Elias threw his second ball.
"Swablu."
The Pokémon materialized in a flash of white light—a small, bird-like creature covered in fluffy blue-and-white feathers, with a pair of long, ribbon-like antennae on its head. Swablu chirped, its black eyes bright and curious.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Swablu moved first.
"Peck!"
Swablu dove toward Piplup, its beak glowing.
"Piplup—dodge!"
Piplup dodged.
Swablu curved and came back.
"Again!"
Piplup dodged again.
"Now—Sing!" Elias shouted.
Swablu opened its mouth and released a soft, melodic trill.
Piplup's eyes drooped.
"Piplup—focus!" Briv shouted.
Piplup shook its head.
But it was too late.
Swablu dove again.
"Peck!"
The attack struck Piplup square in the chest.
Piplup fell.
"Piplup is unable to battle," Axel said. "Swablu wins."
---
Briv recalled Piplup.
He whispered something to the ball before clipping it to his belt.
"You did good," he said. "Rest."
He looked at Elias.
"Turtwig," he said.
Turtwig materialized on the field, its stubby legs planted firmly, its yellow sprout standing tall. It looked at Swablu with the kind of disdain that only a Grass-type could muster for a Flying-type.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Swablu moved first.
"Peck!"
"Turtwig—Withdraw!"
Turtwig pulled its head into its shell, and Swablu's beak clanged harmlessly against its hardened back.
"Now—Tackle!"
Turtwig popped out and slammed into Swablu.
Swablu tumbled backward.
"Again!"
Turtwig struck again.
Swablu didn't get up.
"Swablu is unable to battle," Axel said. "Turtwig wins."
---
Elias recalled Swablu.
His expression had shifted. The calm confidence was still there, but something else had crept in—a flicker of uncertainty.
"You're better than I expected," he said.
"I get that a lot."
Elias smiled.
"Bronzor," he said.
The ball opened in a flash of blue light, and a strange Pokémon materialized—a flat, circular creature made of bronze, with a pair of glowing red eyes and a series of strange runes etched into its surface. Bronzor floated motionless, its body reflecting the gray light.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Bronzor moved first.
"Confusion!"
A wave of psychic energy shot toward Turtwig.
"Turtwig—dodge!"
Turtwig tried to dodge, but the attack was too fast. The Confusion struck it dead-on, and Turtwig staggered, its movements slowing.
"Again!"
Another Confusion.
Turtwig fell.
"Turtwig is unable to battle," Axel said. "Bronzor wins."
---
Briv recalled Turtwig.
His hand was trembling.
Not from fear.
From anticipation.
"Riolu," he said.
Riolu appeared in a burst of blue light, its body lean and coiled, its red eyes locked on Bronzor. It didn't flinch. It didn't hesitate. It just waited.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Bronzor moved first.
"Confusion!"
"Riolu—Quick Attack!"
Riolu blurred forward, dodging through the psychic wave, and slammed into Bronzor's side.
Bronzor spun backward.
"Again!"
Riolu struck again.
Bronzor wobbled.
"Now—Force Palm!" Briv shouted.
Riolu's palm glowed with blue energy, and it struck Bronzor directly in the center of its body.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing.
Bronzor froze.
Then it fell.
"Bronzor is unable to battle," Axel said. "Riolu wins. Briv wins the match."
---
The crowd erupted.
Briv stood at the edge of the field, his heart pounding, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Riolu ran to him, barking excitedly, and Briv scooped it up in his arms.
"We did it," he said. "We actually did it."
Riolu licked his face.
Elias walked over, his hand extended.
"Good match," he said. "You've got a talented team."
Briv shook his hand.
"Thanks. You're not bad yourself."
Elias smiled.
"Maybe we'll meet again at the League."
"Maybe we will."
Elias turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Axel approached, his tablet tucked under his arm.
"Nice work," he said. "Your Piplup's still struggling with its confidence, but it's getting there. Your Turtwig needs to stop slacking. And your Riolu..." He paused. "Your Riolu's got something special."
Briv looked at Riolu, who was still clinging to his chest.
"I know."
Axel nodded.
"Keep training. The League's going to be brutal this year."
He turned and walked away, Rotom flickering at his shoulder.
Briv stood there for a long moment, Riolu in his arms, the city humming around him.
Then he smiled.
---
Later that night, Briv sat on the balcony of the inn with Patricia beside him and the city lights flickering below. Riolu was asleep in his lap, Piplup was curled at his feet, and Turtwig was gnawing on a piece of bark in the corner.
Patricia leaned her head against his shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yeah." He kissed her hair. "I'm okay."
"You're lying."
He laughed.
"A little."
She looked up at him.
"Talk to me."
Briv stared at the city for a long moment.
"Something's coming," he said. "I don't know what. I don't know when. But something's coming. And I need to be ready."
Patricia took his hand.
"Then we'll be ready together."
Briv squeezed her fingers.
"Yeah," he said. "Together."
They sat there in silence, watching the stars wheel overhead and the canals shimmer below.
And somewhere in the darkness, the pieces were moving.
=====
The rain returned before dawn, hammering the cobblestones in sheets that turned the narrow streets of the lower districts into rivers of mud and reflected neon.
Nicola stood under the awning of a crumbling textile factory, her arms crossed, watching the water cascade off the rusted gutters. Tangrowth loomed behind her, its vines draped over her shoulders like a living cloak, its wide eyes blinking slowly in the dim light. She had come here to think—away from the inn, away from Briv's brooding, away from the weight of everyone's expectations.
Her fingers found the three Poké Balls on her belt and traced their contours.
Magnemite. Snover. Starly.
Seven wins. Three weeks until the League.
She needed more. She needed to be sharper. Faster. Better.
The sound of footsteps on wet stone made her turn.
A woman emerged from the rain, her chestnut-brown hair plastered to her forehead, her golden gown soaked through and clinging to her skin. She was young—twenty, maybe—with hazel eyes that sparkled despite the miserable weather and a ribbon that had somehow stayed tied despite the downpour.
She was also completely lost.
"Excuse me," the woman said, her voice carrying the refined accent of the upper districts. "I'm looking for the Aethelburg Grand Library. I seem to have taken a wrong turn somewhere around the—" She gestured vaguely at the labyrinth of alleys behind her. "—everywhere."
Nicola stared at her.
"The library's in the upper city. You're about four miles off."
The woman's face fell.
"Oh. Wonderful."
She looked so thoroughly, pathetically drenched that Nicola almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
"You're not from around here," Nicola said.
"No. I'm from Eterna City, in Sinnoh. I arrived this morning and thought I could navigate the city without a map." She laughed, a self-deprecating sound. "Clearly, I was wrong."
Nicola studied her for a moment.
The woman didn't look like a trainer—no Poké Balls visible, no battle gear, no calluses on her hands. But there was something in the way she held herself, a quiet confidence beneath the awkwardness, that made Nicola pause.
"You any good at battling?" Nicola asked.
The woman blinked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Battling. Pokémon. You know, the thing this entire city is obsessed with."
A slow smile spread across the woman's face.
"I've been known to hold my own."
Nicola's eyes narrowed.
"Prove it."
---
Axel appeared from the shadows of the factory as if he'd been waiting there all along, his Rotom flickering at his shoulder like a will-o'-the-wisp. The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick and humid, and the clearing behind the factory was slick with puddles that reflected the gray sky like broken mirrors.
"I heard there's a battle," he said.
Nicola didn't ask how he knew. She had stopped questioning Axel's omnipresence weeks ago.
"You'll referee," she said.
Axel nodded.
"Standard rules. Three-on-three. No substitutions. The battle ends when one trainer has no Pokémon remaining." He looked at both of them. "Names?"
"Nicola Sunfall."
"Belle Verdant."
Axel's eyebrows rose slightly at the surname, but he said nothing.
"Are you both ready?"
Nicola looked at Belle.
Belle looked at Nicola.
"Ready," they said.
---
Belle moved first.
"Clefairy," she said.
The ball opened in a flash of pink light, and a small, round Pokémon materialized—a creature with pale pink skin, a curled tuft of fur on its forehead, and small, delicate wings on its back. Clefairy bounced on its toes, its tiny fingers wiggling, its bright eyes fixed on Nicola with cheerful curiosity.
Nicola considered her options.
Clefairy was a Fairy-type. Fast. Agile. Capable of moves like Sing, Double Slap, and Metronome—the last of which could be anything from a devastating attack to a complete waste of time.
She needed to start with someone who could handle unpredictability.
"Magnemite," she said.
Magnemite materialized in a burst of blue light, its worn metallic body humming with controlled electrical tension. Its single blue eye observed Clefairy with cold precision, calculating angles, distances, probabilities.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Clefairy moved first.
"Double Slap!"
Clefairy darted forward, its tiny hands blurring.
"Magnemite—Thunder Shock!"
Magnemite's magnets crackled, and a bolt of electricity shot toward Clefairy.
Clefairy dodged.
Barely.
The bolt grazed its ear, and Clefairy squeaked in surprise.
"Again!" Belle shouted.
Clefairy struck.
Magnemite's body rang like a gong as Clefairy's Double Slap connected—once, twice, three times.
Magnemite wobbled.
"Magnemite—Spark!" Nicola shouted.
Magnemite charged forward, its body crackling with electricity.
Clefairy tried to dodge.
It was too slow.
The Spark struck Clefairy dead-on, and the Fairy-type flew backward, its body smoking.
"Clefairy is unable to battle," Axel said. "Magnemite wins."
---
Belle recalled Clefairy.
She didn't look upset. She looked impressed.
"Your Magnemite's fast," she said. "And precise."
"It's efficient," Nicola said. "There's a difference."
Belle smiled.
"I suppose there is."
She threw her second ball.
"Wigglytuff."
The Pokémon materialized in a flash of pink light—a large, round creature with a soft, balloon-like body, a pair of long, rabbit-like ears, and eyes that sparkled with a mixture of kindness and mischief. Wigglytuff bounced on its feet, its body jiggling with every movement.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Wigglytuff moved first.
"Sing!"
Wigglytuff opened its mouth and released a soft, melodic lullaby.
Magnemite's eye drooped.
"Magnemite—focus!" Nicola shouted.
Magnemite shook itself.
But it was slow.
Wigglytuff bounced forward.
"Body Slam!"
The attack struck Magnemite square in the center of its body, and the Electric-type crashed into the mud.
It didn't move.
"Magnemite is unable to battle," Axel said. "Wigglytuff wins."
---
Nicola recalled Magnemite.
She whispered something to the ball before clipping it to her belt.
"Snover," she said.
Snover materialized in a burst of white light, its sturdy body planting itself on the field, its snow-covered appearance a stark contrast to the muddy ground. It looked at Wigglytuff with calm, patient eyes.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Wigglytuff moved first.
"Sing!"
"Snover—Ice Shard!"
Snover fired a volley of icy diamonds, and the attack struck Wigglytuff before the lullaby could take effect.
Wigglytuff staggered.
"Again!"
Another volley.
Wigglytuff fell.
"Wigglytuff is unable to battle," Axel said. "Snover wins."
---
Belle recalled Wigglytuff.
Her expression had shifted. The cheerful curiosity was still there, but something sharper had crept in—a competitive edge that Nicola recognized all too well.
"You're holding back," Belle said.
Nicola's eyes narrowed.
"What makes you say that?"
"Your Snover barely moved. Your Magnemite went down too easily." Belle tilted her head. "You're saving your real strength for later."
Nicola didn't answer.
Belle smiled.
"Glaceon," she said.
The ball opened in a flash of icy blue light, and a sleek, elegant Pokémon materialized—a creature with pale blue fur, dark markings around its eyes, and a crown of icy crystals on its forehead. Glaceon stood motionless, its breath misting in the humid air, its dark eyes fixed on Snover with predatory calm.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Glaceon moved first.
"Ice Beam!"
A beam of concentrated cold shot toward Snover.
"Snover—dodge!"
Snover tried to dodge, but the beam was too fast. It struck Snover's side, and ice spread across its body, slowing its movements.
"Again!"
Another Ice Beam.
Snover staggered.
"Snover—Razor Leaf!"
Snover fired a storm of leaves at Glaceon.
Glaceon dodged.
"Now—Ice Fang!" Belle shouted.
Glaceon lunged forward, its fangs glowing with icy energy.
The attack struck Snover's shoulder.
Snover screamed.
It fell.
"Snover is unable to battle," Axel said. "Glaceon wins."
---
Nicola recalled Snover.
Her hand was steady.
She had known this would be hard. She had known Belle was strong. But she hadn't expected this—the precision, the timing, the way Belle seemed to read her every move before she made it.
"Starly," she said.
Starly materialized in a burst of brown and white light, its sharp eyes locked on Glaceon, its wings spread wide. The little bird Pokémon hovered in the air, its competitive spirit burning bright.
"Begin," Axel said.
---
Glaceon moved first.
"Ice Beam!"
"Starly—Quick Attack!"
Starly blurred forward, dodging through the beam, and slammed into Glaceon's side.
Glaceon stumbled.
"Again!"
Starly struck again.
Glaceon spun.
"Now—Wing Attack!" Nicola shouted.
Starly's wings glowed with energy, and it struck Glaceon across the face.
Glaceon fell.
"Glaceon is unable to battle," Axel said. "Starly wins. Nicola wins the match."
---
The clearing was silent except for the drip of water from the factory gutters.
Belle stood at the edge of the field, her golden gown now ruined, her chestnut hair a tangled mess, and she was smiling.
"That was exhilarating," she said.
Nicola recalled Starly.
"It was something."
Belle walked over, her hand extended.
"You're very good. I can see why Briv speaks so highly of you."
Nicola froze.
"You know Briv?"
"Not personally." Belle's smile widened. "But I've read about him. The youngest League champion in Elyssian history. The trainer who rose from nowhere to beat the odds." She tilted her head. "And the man who's been making enemies of the Eclipse Squad."
Nicola's blood ran cold.
"How do you know about the Eclipse Squad?"
Belle didn't answer.
She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small, leather-bound book—its cover worn, its pages yellowed with age.
"I'm a researcher," she said. "I study things that don't want to be studied. Organizations that operate in the shadows. People who don't want to be found."
She pressed the book into Nicola's hands.
"Malcolm Vane is real. And this book will help you find him."
Nicola stared at the book.
Then she looked at Belle.
"Why are you helping us?"
Belle's expression softened.
"Because I lost someone to the Eclipse Squad. Someone I loved." She stepped back into the rain, her golden gown trailing behind her. "Good luck, Nicola. You're going to need it."
She disappeared into the storm.
Nicola stood there, the book heavy in her hands, her heart pounding.
Axel approached, Rotom flickering at his shoulder.
"That was interesting," he said.
"Shut up."
"I didn't say anything."
Nicola tucked the book into her jacket and started walking.
She had eight wins now. The League was three weeks away.
But for the first time in months, she felt like she was fighting for something bigger than herself.
---
Later that night, Briv found her on the balcony of the inn, the book open in her lap, her eyes scanning the pages in the dim light. He sat beside her without a word and waited.
"This is... a lot," Nicola said.
"Tell me."
She told him about Belle. About the battle. About the book. About Malcolm Vane.
Briv's expression didn't change.
But his hands did.
They clenched into fists so tight his knuckles went white.
"We need to tell the others," he said.
"I know."
"And we need to be ready."
"I know."
Briv stared at the city lights, his jaw set.
"Malcolm Vane," he said. "We're coming for you."
The stars burned overhead.
The canals shimmered below.
And somewhere in the darkness, the pieces were moving.