Chapter 95: Arriving At The League!
The League gates rose before them like the mouth of a god.
Briv had seen them before—last year, when he'd walked through as champion, when the cameras had flashed and the crowds had screamed and everything had felt like the climax of a story he'd already written. But standing here now, with his friends beside him, with the weight of everything that had happened since—the battles, the losses, the victories, the nights he couldn't sleep—it felt different.
It felt like the beginning.
"Holy shit," Dariana breathed.
She stood beside him, her bag slung over one shoulder, her dark eyes wide as she took in the structure before them. The League stadium was massive—a coliseum of white stone and crystal, its spires reaching toward the clouds, its banners snapping in the morning wind. Trainers from across Elyssia streamed through the gates in rivers of color and ambition.
"Told you," Briv said. "It's a lot."
"It's insane."
"That's one word for it."
Patricia stepped up beside him. She was quiet—she'd been quiet all morning, her blue eyes distant, her fingers laced with his when they'd walked through the city. He squeezed her hand.
She squeezed back.
"You okay?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
She looked at him.
"Last year. This year. Everything that's different."
He understood.
He felt it too.
---
Nicola walked at the back of the group.
Her eyes moved constantly—scanning the crowd, cataloging faces, calculating threats. Magnemite hovered at her shoulder, its single blue eye tracking the flow of trainers like a security system.
She'd slept badly.
She'd woken up angry.
She didn't know why.
She did know why.
Briv.
Always Briv.
She pushed the thought down.
---
Samuel walked beside Axel.
They didn't speak.
They didn't need to.
The League was loud—a cacophony of voices and footsteps and the distant hum of holo-screens—but Axel moved through it like a ghost, his green eyes sharp, his posture relaxed. Rotom flickered above his shoulder, its orange body casting strange shadows on the pavement.
Samuel watched him.
"You've been here before," he said.
Axel nodded.
"Once."
"When?"
"Years ago."
He didn't elaborate.
Samuel didn't push.
---
The registration hall was chaos.
Trainers filled every corner—checking in, confirming their entries, arguing with officials about last-minute changes. The air smelled like sweat and anticipation. Holo-screens displayed brackets, rankings, past champions. A massive screen dominated the far wall, listing every qualified trainer in the region.
Briv found his name.
Briv Ambertone. Rank 1. Qualified.
He stared at it.
He'd earned that.
He'd fought for it.
He'd bled for it.
Patricia found hers next to his.
Patricia Crownleaf. Rank 2. Qualified.
She smiled.
"Look at that."
"Not bad," Briv said.
"Not bad at all."
---
They moved through the check-in process together.
Forms. Signatures. Badges. The woman behind the counter was efficient and tired—she'd probably processed a thousand trainers already, and she had a thousand more to go. She scanned their cards, verified their records, handed them each a League-issued badge.
"Good luck," she said.
She didn't mean it.
She said it to everyone.
---
The plaza outside the registration hall was a sea of trainers.
Briv recognized some of them—faces from last year's League, rivals he'd beaten, rivals who'd beaten him. He saw Roger and Callum in the corner, their Eclipse Squad emblems bright on their jackets, their expressions sour. They saw him too.
Roger's lip curled.
Callum flipped him off.
Briv waved.
They looked away.
---
"Charming," Nicola said.
"Always."
"They hate you."
"They hate everyone."
"True."
---
A voice cut through the noise.
"Briv Ambertone!"
Briv turned.
A man was walking toward them—tall, lean, with sharp features and silver-gray hair tied back in a neat queue. He wore the uniform of a League official, but there was something different about him. Something familiar.
Briv frowned.
"Do I know you?"
The man smiled.
"Zachary. We met at the Mount Silver summit three years ago. You were—what, twenty-one? Barely qualified for your first League. I was impressed."
Briv remembered.
"You were the trader."
"I was. I am. Always."
Zachary stopped in front of them, his smile widening as he looked at the group. His eyes moved from face to face—Briv, Patricia, Nicola, Dariana, Samuel, Axel—and something flickered in his expression.
"You've all qualified," he said.
"We have," Briv said.
"Impressive. All six of you."
"Five," Axel said.
Zachary looked at him.
"Ah. Yes. You're the one with the Rotom."
Axel nodded.
"I am."
"You're not competing."
"I'm not."
Zachary studied him for a long moment.
"Interesting," he said.
He turned back to the others.
"I have something for you."
---
He reached into his coat.
His hand emerged holding five small objects—candies, each one glowing faintly with a soft, golden light. They were small, no larger than a thumbnail, but there was power in them. Briv could feel it.
XP Candies.
"These are rare," Zachary said. "Very rare. I've been collecting them for years."
He handed one to Briv.
"I thought you might find them useful."
Briv examined the candy.
It pulsed in his palm.
"What do they do?"
"They boost your Pokémon's growth. Speed, strength, endurance—everything. Use them wisely."
He handed one to Patricia.
She took it.
"Thank you."
He handed one to Nicola.
She didn't take it.
"Why?" she asked.
Zachary raised an eyebrow.
"Why what?"
"Why are you giving us these? What do you want?"
He smiled.
"Smart. I like that."
He pressed the candy into her hand.
"I want nothing," he said. "I'm a trader. I trade. And sometimes, I give gifts to trainers I believe in."
"Believe in?"
"You're going to be a problem at the League. All of you. And I want to see what happens."
---
He handed a candy to Dariana.
She took it with both hands.
"Gracias," she said.
"De nada."
He handed a candy to Samuel.
Samuel studied it.
"Three of these?"
"Three."
"One for each of my Pokémon?"
Zachary nodded.
"Use them well."
Samuel pocketed the candy.
"I will."
---
Zachary turned to Axel.
Axel's expression was unreadable.
"I don't get one," he said.
Zachary shook his head.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you're not competing. And because you don't need them."
Axel's eyes narrowed.
"What do you know?"
Zachary smiled.
"More than you think."
He turned and walked away.
---
Silence.
---
Briv looked at the candy in his palm.
He thought about Luxray. About Infernape. About Torterra. About Empoleon. About Gible. About Riolu.
He thought about the League.
About winning.
About proving himself again.
He pocketed the candy.
"So," he said. "That was weird."
"Very weird," Patricia agreed.
"I liked him," Dariana said.
Nicola said nothing.
---
The afternoon passed in a blur of preparation.
They found their quarters—small rooms in the athlete's village, clean but spartan, each one equipped with a bed, a desk, a holo-screen. Briv unpacked his bag, arranged his pokéballs on the desk, and sat on the edge of the bed.
He thought about the candy.
He reached into his pocket.
He held it up to the light.
It glowed.
He thought about which Pokémon to use it on.
Luxray. Infernape. Torterra. Empoleon. Gible. Riolu.
Six Pokémon.
Three candies.
He had to choose.
---
A knock on the door.
"Come in."
Patricia entered.
She sat beside him on the bed.
"You okay?"
"Yeah."
She held up her candy.
"What are you going to do with yours?"
"I don't know yet."
"Neither do I."
They sat in silence.
---
"You don't have to use it," Briv said.
"I know."
"It's a tool. Not a crutch."
"I know."
"You're already strong."
She looked at him.
"So are you."
He smiled.
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
She laughed.
It was a real laugh.
Warm.
Genuine.
---
She kissed him.
He kissed her back.
It was gentle.
Soft.
The kind of kiss that meant more than words.
---
Later that evening, they gathered in Dariana's room.
It was bigger than the others—Dariana had charmed an official into giving her an upgrade—and they sat in a circle on the floor, their candies in their palms.
"So," Dariana said. "What's the plan?"
"With the candies?" Patricia asked.
"With everything."
"Win," Nicola said.
"Obviously."
"Then what?"
Silence.
---
Samuel spoke.
"I've been thinking."
"About?"
"The League. The battles. What it means."
"And?"
He looked at his candy.
"I qualified. That was the goal. That was everything. And now... I don't know."
"You want to win," Briv said.
"Of course. But everyone wants to win."
"Then what makes you different?"
Samuel smiled.
"Maybe nothing. Maybe everything."
---
Axel spoke.
"You're all thinking about the wrong thing."
They looked at him.
"What should we be thinking about?" Nicola asked.
"Your opponents."
"We've studied them," Briv said. "We know their teams. Their strategies."
"You know their Pokémon. You don't know them."
Silence.
---
Axel leaned forward.
"The League isn't just about strength. It's about psychology. It's about understanding who you're facing. Their fears. Their weaknesses. Not just their Pokémon's."
He looked at Briv.
"You know Raze Stormcloud."
"I do."
"Then you know he's going to use your history against you. He's going to remind you of every loss, every mistake, every moment you weren't good enough."
Briv's jaw tightened.
"I know."
"Do you?"
---
Nicola spoke.
"What about me?"
Axel looked at her.
"Who's your biggest threat?"
"Raze. Lucas. Kofi."
"Wrong."
She frowned.
"Then who?"
"Yourself."
She stared at him.
"What?"
"You're your own worst enemy," Axel said. "You doubt yourself. You get in your own head. You obsess over what you can't control and ignore what you can."
She didn't respond.
She couldn't.
---
The night deepened.
The others drifted to their rooms.
Briv stayed.
He sat in the corner of Dariana's room, his back against the wall, his candy in his palm. The city hummed outside—lights, voices, the distant thrum of energy.
He thought about tomorrow.
About the opening ceremony.
About the first round.
About everything that came after.
He thought about the candy.
He made a decision.
---
He released Luxray.
The Electric type materialized in a flash of light, its sleek black fur gleaming under the room's dim lamps. Its yellow eyes locked onto Briv.
"You ready?"
Luxray nodded.
"Good."
He held up the candy.
"Eat this."
Luxray studied it.
It took it.
It ate.
---
Light.
Power.
Luxray's body ignited with blinding radiance—a surge of electricity that crackled across its fur, that made the air hum, that made Briv's hair stand on end. Luxray threw back its head and roared, and the sound was thunder, and the room shook, and Briv felt the power flow through his partner like a wave.
When it was over, Luxray stood taller.
Its eyes were sharper.
Its body was stronger.
It was ready.
Briv stared at it.
"Holy shit."
Luxray looked at him.
It was still Luxray.
But it was more.
---
He recalled Luxray.
He sat down.
His heart was pounding.
He thought about the League.
About winning.
About proving himself.
He thought about the candy.
He had two more.
He knew which Pokémon to use them on.
---
The morning came.
The sun rose over Aethelburg.
The city woke up.
Briv stood at his window and watched the light spread across the crystal towers.
He was ready.
---
The others gathered in the courtyard.
They looked at each other.
They didn't need to say anything.
They were ready.
---
Samuel held up his remaining candies.
"I used one last night. Ambipom."
"How'd it go?" Briv asked.
"Good. Really good."
Dariana spoke.
"Gallade. He's stronger now."
Patricia nodded.
"Floatzel. She needed it."
Nicola said nothing.
She'd used hers on Magnemite.
She didn't tell them.
---
Axel watched them.
He said nothing.
---
They walked to the stadium together.
The crowd was massive—thousands of trainers, tens of thousands of fans, all of them gathered for the same reason. The air hummed with anticipation. The holo-screens blasted highlights from last year's League. The banners snapped in the wind.
Briv looked at the stadium.
He looked at his friends.
He looked at the future.
Let's go.
=====
The stadium swallowed them whole.
Briv felt it the moment he stepped through the gates—the weight of the place, the history etched into every stone, the thousands of eyes that would soon be watching. The opening ceremony was still hours away, but the grounds were already packed. Trainers milled about in clusters, their Pokémon at their sides, their expressions ranging from quiet confidence to barely concealed terror.
He knew that feeling.
He'd lived it last year.
"Where do we go?" Dariana asked.
"Practice fields," Axel said. "West wing."
"How do you know?"
"I read the map."
"Of course you did."
---
They moved through the crowd together, a tight formation of six. Patricia walked beside Briv, her hand brushing his occasionally—not quite holding, but close enough. Nicola took point, her sharp eyes cutting through the chaos. Samuel drifted at the rear, his dreadlocks swaying, his expression serene.
Axel walked in the center.
He didn't look at anyone.
He didn't need to.
---
The west wing was quieter.
Practice fields stretched in every direction—dozens of them, each one equipped with reinforced barriers, holo-projectors, and battle sensors. A few trainers were already using them, their Pokémon exchanging blows in controlled bursts of light and sound.
Briv found an empty field near the edge of the complex.
He stopped.
"This'll do."
---
He released Gible.
The Dragon type materialized in a flash of light—small, round, ridiculous. Its massive mouth gaped open, its tiny arms flexed, its fin stood upright with more confidence than its body could possibly justify. It looked around the field, saw the other Pokémon training in the distance, and immediately began bouncing on its heels.
It wanted to fight.
It always wanted to fight.
"Easy," Briv said. "We're just training."
Gible didn't listen.
It never listened.
---
Patricia released Lopunny.
The Normal type stretched gracefully, her long ears twitching as she surveyed the field. She was elegant, poised, everything Gible was not. She looked at the small Dragon type and tilted her head.
Gible growled at her.
She ignored him.
"Okay," Briv said. "Let's start with basics. Gible, Dragon Rage."
Gible opened its mouth.
Nothing happened.
"Focus."
Gible tried again.
A tiny puff of purple energy sputtered from its jaws and dissipated into the air.
Patricia covered her mouth.
Briv sighed.
"Again."
---
They trained for an hour.
Gible's Dragon Rage improved—marginally. His Tackle was decent. His Sand Attack was almost useless. He was strong, Briv knew that, but his control was garbage. He rushed everything, rushed every attack, rushed every movement. He wanted to be powerful without putting in the work.
Briv understood.
He'd been the same way.
---
"Let's try something else," he said.
He pulled out his second candy.
Gible stared at it.
"Dragon."
"You want it?"
Gible nodded frantically.
"Then earn it."
---
He set up a target—a reinforced training dummy, designed to absorb impacts. He positioned it twenty feet away.
"Tackle. Full speed."
Gible charged.
He hit the dummy like a wrecking ball, his small body slamming into it with enough force to send it sliding backward. The sensors flashed green.
"Good. Again."
Gible charged again.
Again.
And again.
Each time, Briv moved the dummy farther away. Each time, Gible had to run harder, hit harder, push himself further. His breath came in ragged gasps. His body trembled with exertion.
He didn't stop.
He didn't want to stop.
---
"Okay," Briv said. "Dragon Rage. On the dummy."
Gible faced the target.
He opened his mouth.
This time, the energy came.
A burst of purple flames erupted from his jaws—small but concentrated, a tight sphere of draconic power that slammed into the dummy and exploded on impact. The sensors flashed bright green.
Briv grinned.
"Good."
Gible panted.
He looked at Briv.
He wanted more.
---
They continued for another hour.
Patricia trained Lopunny in the background—agility drills, kick combinations, precision movements. Lopunny moved like water, her body flowing from one position to the next, her ears whipping through the air with deadly grace. She was beautiful to watch.
Gible was not.
Gible was messy.
Gible was chaotic.
Gible was learning.
---
Briv called a break.
He sat on the grass and pulled out a water bottle. Gible collapsed beside him, his tiny chest heaving, his mouth open, his tongue lolling. He looked exhausted.
He looked happy.
Briv scratched behind his fin.
"You did good."
Gible made a sound—something between a purr and a growl.
"You want the candy now?"
Gible's eyes snapped open.
He sat up.
He nodded.
---
Briv held out the candy.
Gible snatched it from his hand and swallowed it whole.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
Light.
Gible's body began to glow—a bright, pure white that forced Briv to shield his eyes. The light expanded, grew, pulsed with power. Gible's form shifted, stretched, transformed. His body lengthened. His limbs strengthened. His fin sharpened into a blade.
The light exploded.
And when it faded—
Gabite stood before him.
---
Briv stared.
The Pokémon was taller now—much taller, standing nearly to Briv's chest. Its body was sleek and muscular, blue scales gleaming under the afternoon sun. Its arms were tipped with sharp claws. Its jaws were lined with rows of teeth. Its eyes burned with fierce intelligence.
It looked at Briv.
It smiled.
Briv smiled back.
"Holy shit."
---
Gabite lunged forward.
Briv braced himself.
But Gabite didn't attack.
It wrapped its arms around him.
It hugged him.
Briv laughed.
"You're gonna crush me."
Gabite squeezed harder.
"Okay, okay—I'm happy too."
---
Patricia jogged over, Lopunny at her heels.
"Is that—"
"Gabite," Briv said. "He evolved."
She stared at the Dragon type.
"He's huge."
"He's perfect."
Gabite released Briv and turned to face them. It stood tall, proud, its body practically vibrating with new power. It looked at Lopunny.
Lopunny looked back.
She nodded.
A sign of respect.
Gabite nodded back.
---
Briv recalled him.
He clipped the ball to his belt.
He felt different.
Lighter.
Stronger.
Ready.
---
The opening ceremony was held in the main stadium.
Seventy-two trainers stood in formation on the field—the qualified elite of Elyssia, the best of the best, the ones who had fought and bled and earned their place. Briv stood among them, his friends at his sides, his team at his belt.
The crowd roared.
The lights blazed.
The cameras flashed.
Briv looked at the stands—thousands of faces, thousands of voices, all of them watching, all of them waiting.
He thought about last year.
About winning.
About the pressure.
About his father's legacy.
He thought about this year.
About losing.
About fighting.
About proving that he wasn't just a flash in the pan.
He looked at Gabite's ball.
He thought about the candy.
He smiled.
---
The ceremony ended.
The bracket was announced.
Briv's first match was tomorrow.
He didn't know who he was facing.
He didn't care.
---
They walked back to the athlete's village in silence.
The sun was setting—gold and red and purple, painting the crystal towers in fire. The canals glowed. The bridges hummed. Aethelburg was beautiful.
Briv felt it.
He felt all of it.
---
They gathered in Dariana's room.
No one spoke.
They didn't need to.
---
Patricia sat beside Briv.
She leaned against him.
"You ready?"
He nodded.
"Yeah."
"For real?"
He looked at her.
"For real."
She kissed his cheek.
"I'm proud of you."
"I haven't done anything yet."
"You evolved Gible."
He laughed.
"That was Gible. Not me."
"Gible evolved because of you. Because you trained him. Because you believed in him."
Briv was quiet.
She was right.
---
Nicola stood by the window.
She was staring at the city.
She didn't look at anyone.
She didn't want to.
She was thinking about tomorrow.
About her first match.
About winning.
About proving herself.
She was thinking about Briv.
She always thought about Briv.
She hated that.
---
Samuel sat in the corner.
He was playing something on his phone—a soft, rhythmic beat, reggae vibes, the kind of music that made you feel like everything was going to be okay. His eyes were closed. His body swayed.
Ambipom sat beside him.
It swayed too.
---
Axel watched them all.
He said nothing.
---
The night deepened.
The others drifted to their rooms.
Briv stayed.
He sat on the floor, his back against the wall, his pokéballs arranged in a neat line before him. Luxray. Infernape. Torterra. Empoleon. Gabite. Riolu.
Six Pokémon.
Six partners.
Six reasons to believe.
He thought about tomorrow.
About the match.
About the future.
He closed his eyes.
---
The morning came.
The sun rose over Aethelburg.
The city woke up.
Briv stood at his window and watched the light spread across the crystal towers.
He imagined the crowd, the noise, the adrenaline—the chaos and the beauty and the terror of it all.
He imagined winning.
He imagined losing.
He imagined the boy he was a year ago—young and cocky and not nearly as good as he thought he was—standing in the same spot and feeling the same things.
He'd grown.
He'd suffered.
He'd lost and won and lost again.
But he was still here.
Still fighting.
Still believing.
He turned from the window.
He grabbed his bag.
He walked out the door.
---
The others were waiting in the courtyard.
Patricia. Nicola. Dariana. Samuel. Axel.
They looked at him.
He looked back.
"Ready?" Patricia asked.
Briv nodded.
He thought about Gabite.
About the candy.
About the evolution.
About everything.
"Ready."
They walked toward the stadium together.
The sun was bright.
The city was alive.
And the future was wide open.