[M] Pokemon: Avarice Versus Justice! (Ashen and Headwrapper)

[Headwrapper]

There it was again. The distinct shift in Yulia's mannerisms. Her eyes. The way her lips curled into a certain sneer as she spoke. Clive frowned as he glanced down at his partner's pale wrists, which she offered him in sardonic defiance.

Was this "Freya" really the criminal mastermind they had been looking for? Was she actually what Yulia described? Clive had not known the legendary Ninetales' curse could be so powerful, but there have been crazier stories. Whether this crooked being was truly someone else's soul or a simpel delusion, she needed stopped somehow... and damn it all if Clive could not shake the feeling that he needed to find a way to protect Yulia in the process.

His heart softened when Yulia returned, marked by her shift in expression and the formation of tears in her eyes. Even so, it was not enough to rid of him of the anger he felt. How much he felt betrayed. Was he really so untrustworthy, after everything, that Yulia held this from him through all of it? The entire population of the region needed to suffer before she could finally trust him? Those who were injured or killed during the Storm, the rescue Pokemon that risked their lives during it all, even Umbreon? That's what it took? No, he was allowed to be angry and to make it known.

Clive steeled himself, maintaining his intense gaze when Freya retook her position as the pilot. That was when she surprised him, comparing him to his late father and his infamous partner. Clive did not know what to make of her comments, and despite himself, he chuckled. What was it to him that he was nothing like his late father? Was he supposed to aspire to earning an early grave for himself? Maybe hand over Umbreon and the rest of his Pokemon to the next criminal organization himself before croaking, just to save time. Just the very idea repulsed him.

"It's so nice to hear those lips utter something I can fully believe is the truth," Clive said. Coolly, almost casually, he readied a pair of handcuffs. The chain links that joined the restraints glinted in the light, metallic and cold. They jingled lightly as he continued on. "I wonder, Freya, if you would have been more honest with me than she was, had we been on the same side." That was when Clive took one of Yulia's wrists and locked one of the cuffs around it. He did so forcefully, the frigid steel biting into her skin. For the moment, he hardly cared if it was Freya or if it was Yulia he was aggressing. Part of him hoped it was a little of both. He realized quickly that it probably was, as Yulia's tears dripped down her cheeks, passed Freya's smug grin.

Clive paused, awkwardly. He did not proceed to recite the suspect's rights, nor did he instruct her to place her arms behind her back. The usual motions simply did not come. As time pased, the lines on his forehead grew deeper and his jaw began to ache as he ground his teeth. Finally, something flipped over, a quick twitch flickering across his face. With a firm grasp on the free cuff on the other end of the chain, he pulled Yulia, or possibly Freya, towards him forcefully. His larger stature made it easy, and he took advantage of his physically commanding position. His grip tightened on the cuffed arm, pulling his partner and her secret harbinger so close that they could feel his breath on their shared face.

"I want you to explain what happens if we battle," he said. "Where do you go if I win? And what of the rest of Avarice?" He hated himself for backpedaling now, but there was no escaping his desire for justice. He saw it in Yulia's tears, that she was a victim in all of this too. Maybe she did deserve his anger, which was tenfold what he allowed himself to show, but the matter should be between just the two of them. Setting aside the invitation to the current meeting, Freya an invader who had long overstayed her welcome.

[Ashen]

Freya’s insult did not have the effect she wanted, and though she scowled at Clive’s stubbornness, she did not relent. He was unreadable as always, but when he produced a set of handcuffs, bright satisfaction washed over Freya’s face. His words were a sweet scythe through Yulia’s chest, and while Freya relished them, overjoyed at this bitter turn of events, she could feel the deep twist in her shared stomach. Clive had hurt Yulia worse than anything Freya had ever said to her. It was delicious, this pain Freya got to witness, this victory over the true host of her body. When Clive finally clamped the cuffs around one wrist, she looked down at them, another hint of joyous surprise lifting her eyebrows.

He was actually doing it. Based on Yulia’s feelings for him and the time they had shared together, Freya had pegged him differently, but Clive was proving to be one man not to cross. Freya couldn’t help the wide grin now, even as pain rippled across her chest and knocked the breath out of her. It was Yulia’s reaction, her pathetic feelings, that were hurting Freya too. So overwhelming was her grief and sense of defeat that their shared body trembled. Freya rolled her eyes and clenched her hands, jerking the uncuffed wrist in Clive’s direction to remind him to finish the job.

But he didn’t. He wasn’t. He was watching her now, concentrating thoughts that he never showed in his expression. Freya prepared to tease him, or to insult him, to spur the moment along, but before she knew it, she was being yanked towards him with a force she had never seen him use with Yulia.

In any other situation, this would look a hundred shades different. Freya laughed out loud at the hilarity of that. Yulia was finally in the arms of a man, just like her parents had always wanted. From this angle, Clive’s face was stone cold, furious, and Freya wondered just how much prodding he would take before he cracked. Would he hurt her? Hurt the partner who betrayed him? They were close enough now that Freya could easily reach out and kiss him. Would that do it? No one would even know. Locked in Yulia’s apartment, the curtains drawn, her neighbors far too busy with their own lives to second-guess the hitched breaths heard through thin walls, Clive could get away with just about anything. Was he capable of violence like that? Just like his beloved uncle?

A hiss drifted in from the next room. Yulia’s Glameow was watching the scene with narrow eyes. He had never been much of a battler, or even a good guard cat, but as much as he had seemed like he disliked Yulia, she had always taken care of him. Fritz’s claws were out, ears pulled back, and he watched as a former friend threatened his master.

It was Yulia who choked on a sob. She deserved this after what she’d done, she knew, and she had expected this situation would never end well, but in the dozens of times different scenarios had played out in her mind since meeting Clive, she had never anticipated this. It really was over. She would waste away in a cell, or worse, and Clive would never look at her the same way again. Memories of their time together filled her mind: her first day on the job, fresh out of the Academy, when Clive had worn his irritation like armor against her preppy demeanor; the late nights they’d spent working on the case, both at their desks and out in the field, sharing cups of coffee and theories and inside jokes; the times away from work, the restaurants and the takeout, the sweet vulnerability where they could be something other than partners diligently working on the same case. Yulia had hoped, stupidly, that those moments would trump her betrayal, that they could return to that someday. Now, though, looking at his face, the expression she thought she had learned to read, she realized that was all gone.

Freya sighed in irritation. This was a good thing: If Clive was asking about her proposal, it meant he wasn’t as steadfast as she’d thought, or that he was clutching onto some hope of saving his partner. Maybe he did like her, even after all this. But Freya had her victory over Yulia dangling from her wrist, and she just wanted Clive to finish this.

“If we battle,” she started, her voice lacking any of the seriousness the conversation deserved, “and if I win, I want you to resign from this case. Burn everything you’ve learned about it. I want the slate completely cleared.” She wasn’t foolish enough to believe Clive would take her up on that, or that he would hold up his end of the deal, but those were her conditions. “And I will win, Clive,” she added, her grin returning to her lips. “Because you never did like battling, did you? Always left that to your unshakable partner. I wonder, in all that time, how much stronger her Pokemon got than yours. I wonder how easy it would be to send your precious friends back to the hospital.”

Another hiss from Fritz pulled her gaze. The Glameow was ready to pounce, though this time, he was looking at Freya. Pokemon were more perceptive than humans, and Fritz knew an enemy when he saw one.

Freya turned back to Clive. “But if, somehow, you pull off a miracle and defeat me,” she continued, “then I’ll disband Avarice. I’ll call off the whole operation and send everybody home. Maybe my grunts will keep the Pokemon we’ve given them, or maybe they’ll be abandoned in their Poke Balls in the warehouses you have yet to find, I don’t care. But we will stop what we’re doing. Fair is fair.

“As for me,” she added. “I’m sure I’ll find some other way to enjoy Yulia’s company. Maybe we’ll even see you again. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Freya took a step away from him and flexed her uncuffed arm, as if to remind Clive that he could still take this easier route. “Those are my conditions,” she finished. She let Clive consider them for only a moment before speaking again. “As a private investigator, I’m certain you’ve heard of blood pacts.” A deeply taboo and illegal practice, it was possible, with a Psychic Pokemon’s help, to sign deals in blood. They were often officiated by psychics who would somehow know when the deal was broken. Punishment ranged from torture to sure death at the hands of a Pokemon’s mind-bending attacks. “I’m confident in myself,” Freya said, “but I’m not stupid. I don’t trust you. So I want insurance.” She motioned her free wrist towards him. “Or if you’re afraid of losing, you can just finish up here. It’s getting late, isn’t it?”

[Headwrapper]

Clive's expression remained still and stoic, like a statue's, while he awaited responses to his questions. His knuckles grew as white as marble as he squeezed the metal cuff, which dug into his palm like a knife. His eyes only moved to the sound of Freya's voice, glancing down to her lips briefly. He could not help but feel a sort of fascination in her tone, how it seemed so familiar and foreign at the same time. Could this intruding spirit really be the work of a Pokemon such as Ninetales? It was a captivating mystery of its own.

A hiss echoed from the other room: Fritz. Clive flared his nostrils before suddenly releasing Yulia's arm. A sharp line of pain remained across his palm where he had been squeezing the metal band, though he paid it no mind. He was not particularly thrilled with the answers as he they rolled off of Freya's tongue. Having to destroy the evidence over losing a battle was hardly an option he could fathom. It would be incriminating beyond belief. Even if he could hide his tracks, somehow frame the breach as a cyber attack or a raid from Avarice, there would be no way he could not incriminate himself. Leaving the case would be too obvious, but even if he did not, it would only be a matter of time before the story presents itself to his peers. Nat and Jean had the skills to figure it out, and they would not be particularly kind about it. Clive would forever be on the run, or behind bars for a long time. Too long of a time for him to be off the streets, unable to go after the real criminals. Unable to cling to his hope for revenge. The risk was not only too high, it was tragically, ludicrously, impalpable.

But. Clive could not help but reel his head at Freya's taunt, which alluded to the dangers such a battle would pose for his Pokemon. It served as an agonizing reminder that his ace Pokemon was unable to battle. Inwardly, he kicked himself, knowing that he let his anger flare through the stoic expression he had managed so far. Fritz hissed from the other room again, causing both Clive and Freya to pause. Did the Pokemon really know waht was happening? Could it really sense that the blue-haired woman standing in front of Clive was not truly its master? That there was an enemy there that only he and Clive could see? A satisfying feeling washed over Clive as the feline Pokemon seemed to take his side, easing some of the tension in his chest.

Freya proceeded with offering the reward that was on the table for defeating her in battle. Clive was not entirely satisfied with it, either. Avarice's defeat was inevitable. Clive had to believe that. Defeating them and unwinding Yulia's destiny from Freya's was something only he could do. The deal, as Freya presented that, did not seem to give him a path to doing so. Not without a certain kind of help, which Freya had begun to detail.

"A blood pact?" he asked rhetorically. He turned away for a moment, contemplating the idea. Seriously contemplating. When he spoke again, his tone lofty and distracted, he did not turn back to Freya. It was as if he was speaking to the room around them instead. "It's a shame that your trust is so fickle. I was the one who asked to speak to you, thinking you'd be trustworthy, remember?" Ignoring Freya's surrendered wrist, he paced towards the far wall and slowly came to a halt. There, he could conceal his contemplative expression. Defeating Avarice was not enough anymore. Winning, on its own, seldom was for a man like Clive. He had to have it all, even if he bent the rules a little to get it.

Don't be stupid. The thought rattled in his mind. It was a stern, womanly voice, that belonged to one of the strongest detectives he knew: Nat. You need to value yourself and the work you do. How many more people will Avarice hurt if you lose? How many Pokemon? And who will there be to take on the next case, and the one after that? You need to take calculated risks and make incremental steps forwards, without losing ground.

Another voice chimed in, offering its own opinion. It was low-pitched and proud, though Jean spoke with a polite tone when he addressed his partner. But would any of this be worth it if even one victim is left behind? Maybe in a few years we can take down Avarice, but then Yulia will be...

Freya has already destroyed countless lives. Yulia's was the first, and there's no going back. We need to stop the bleeding.

The bleeding never stops, Clive thought, now with his own voice, his own presence of mind. For every victim, there is a lifetime of torment. Of anger, solitude, poor judgement. It will define them. When the detectives relieved themselves of the unsolvable murder case, turned their backs, they placed the burden on me. I can't do that, even after...

Clive inhaled, probably for the first time in over a minute. There was a certain aloofness in his expression as he gave her a once over. His choice became so painfully clear now, but he had terms. "A blood pact it is," he said lightly. "But while we're using such powerful magic, I'd like to amend our terms. If I win, I don't want to see you again, Freya. You'll pay for your crimes alone. Yulia will remain free."

[Ashen]

Staying silent while Clive considered the terms of her deal was nearly impossible for someone as impatient as Freya. She looked at her wrists and saw the marks already blooming under the strain of her new bracelets. Clive wasn’t just taking the easy way out. Why? Freya needed to not rush things. If she played her cards right, and with just a bit of luck, then she would be able to defeat the host of her body once and for all, and there was nothing she wanted more than to ruin Yulia like that.

When Clive finally moved towards her again and responded to her conditions, Freya had to keep herself from cheering aloud. The fool was actually going to commit, then. Battling him would be a walk in National Park, especially with one of his main Pokemon unable to battle still. Freya smirked. This would be so much fun, and the best part was Yulia would get to watch as her beloved partner failed to fulfil her dream of stopping her parasite.

Though when Clive introduced new conditions to their deal, Freya’s smile fell. She shook her head with an apathetic shrug. “No can do, Clive,” she said. “Let’s pretend for a moment that I was up for that. It’s rude of you to try to take me away from my sister like that, but I digress. There’s no way you’d be able to keep Yulia free while punishing me. I dunno if you were even listening to her story, but I died. My body is at least thirty years decayed. There’s nowhere I could go.” A new smile met her lips, dark and taunting. “Besides,” she continued, “even if you found me someone else to mess with, I certainly don’t know of any magic strong enough to detach me from Yulia. It’s not like you can hire a surgeon to just cut a few veins and I’m free. I’m in her head, and she’s already had psychiatrists try to get rid of me. They couldn’t.”

Freya adjusted the cuff on her wrist and impatiently tapped her foot against the floor. Clive would have to agree to her terms if he wanted Yulia free; there was no way around that. All this stalling was getting on Freya’s nerves. After an exaggerated huff, she spoke again. “If you can somehow figure out how to do that, though? Sure. I agree to leave you alone if you win.” She chuckled. “Maybe figuring out how to get rid of me is what you can devote your life to once you turn in your badge, huh?”

Meanwhile, Yulia was struggling for consciousness in her own body. She felt as if she were underwater, and Clive’s voice was a ripple barely meeting her ears. He wanted to save her. Did she hear that right? Clive wanted to save her and get Freya away from her. Yulia had spent many years trying to figure out how to do just that, and she didn’t have much faith there was a way, but… Clive was a better detective than she was. He had more experience, more connections. Was it possible he could find a way to save her? For the first time in a long, long while, Yulia could take comfort in the hope that this secret of hers would not control her forever.

[Headwrapper]

Clive's fingers curled into a fist, a scowl traveling across the usual path that wrinkled around his lips. If there would ever be a chance to rid Yulia of this evil harbinger, this battle would be it. He would not have much time to prepare, but Clive had to try. There had to be a way, but he had to find it on his own. "Then it's settled," he said, taking Freya's wrist. His hands paused as he worked to unlock the cuff he had placed on her earlier, but only for a moment. A metallic clink signaled the bond's release, and Clive placed the chain back on his belt. "We'll battle for it."



As he exited the apartment building, Clive drew a long breath, savoring the cool night air as it filled his lungs. He shivered as he exhaled and frosty breath plumed from his lips. Was it really so cold at this time of the year? Perhaps that was not so important, given the task at hand. There was only one week to prepare himself for his battle with Freya. His preparation would dictate Avarice's, and therefore, the region's, fate. The continent would not be able to handle any more losses at the criminals' hands, not any more. They could not afford another Great Storm, or another ransacking of the supply chain, or kidnapping of prized Pokemon. It was up to him and Yulia to finally end it all.

Another frosty plume formed in front of Clive's face, trailing behind him as he walked. Yulia was the only other person who knew more about Avarice's corruption and wrongdoings than Clive. Would he be able to finally stop them without her help and her passion for justice? Perhaps not, and perhaps that was exactly why he needed to win this battle. Undoubtedly, Clive was still angry about Yulia's secret and he still had some doubt about whether or not that Freya was really someone else's conscious. Even so, Yulia was his friend and his partner, and there was no finishing this case without her.

After passing under a street lamp, Clive's stride slowed to a stop. He glanced in the general direction of where he had parked his vehicle, then reluctantly turned around, one hand at the Pokeballs on his hip. "Why don't you save us some time and come out?" As if by command, Clive's shadow began to sway and wobble, bubbling as it rose from the ground and stood on its own two legs. Clive furrowed his eyebrows and took a step back, but quickly relaxed as the figure before him fully took form. "Gengar?" Before him stood the Gengar that Phoenix had used in their battle. Could it possibly have escaped the evidence locker? Was it possible that it clung to Clive's shadow this entire time?

Gengar motioned for Clive, watching him with its unreadable expression that was locked in a permanent smile. After a while, Clive eventually understood. "You want to show me something? Go on then, let's go."


~~~~

Almost exactly one week had passed since Clive's meeting with Freya and Yulia. His preparations were complete. At least, as complete as they could be. Clive clung onto Dragonite's back as they soared towards the designated meeting location. The straps of a heavy backpack pulled tightly on Clive's shoulders as the brisk winds pierced his face. He lowered his head as they traveled at breakneck speed, mentally recounting his preparations and his plans for winning the battle to come.

Dragonite effortlessly landed before the mouth of a large cavern in the side of a mountain, flicking his wings lightly before landing on his feet. Clive stepped down, taking a moment to search the area. He could not be sure that there were no traps laid out for his arrival. After setting down his bag, he knelt down and gently slid his fingers over the earth at his feet. It was all new, volcanic soil, and it still felt slightly warm to the touch. The caves nearby must have been formed by Entei, who had forced the volcanoes to expel lava during its torment at the hand's of Avarice.

Clive took stock of the Pokeballs that hung on his belt. There were five Pokeballs of various types, which left room for one more battle-ready Pokemon. "Here goes nothing," Clive said dryly, digging into his pocket. He raised the clear bell, holding it between his thumb and index fingers, and let the dwindling sun's rays bounce off of it. With a fluid motion, he shook his wrist, and hoped the bell might work its magic. As the sun continued to descend behind the horizon, with no response to the bell's call, Clive eventually conceded with a humbled nod. "It was worth a shot." He picked up his bag, recalled Dragonite into a refurbished red and white Pokeball that had scratches on its face, and descended into the caves.

It took a long time to navigate through the caves, but as Clive made his way through the newly formed lava tubes, he finally found the meeting spot. Several purple chandeliers and lanterns, which Clive recognized as dormant Pokemon, hung from the tall ceiling of the cavern and lit it with a gloomy glow. Perhaps the darkness was an unplanned advantage he could utilize, he thought. There were not many advantages he had in this battle. Yulia, or possibly Freya, stood at the other end of the cavern, ready with Pokemon that were more carefully trained for battle than Clive's. They were watching, and waiting. It may be the last time he would see them in person, but Clive would not let that bother him. There may have already been several last times that they have already passed over, without realizing it. However, it was hard to ignore that several painstaking months of research, work, and battles would all boil down to their battle. That the last one hundred sixty-eight hours of preparation, travel, strategizing, and training also lead to this moment. In his quest to find a solution to the root cause of the Team Avarice problem, Clive had seen more than he had ever dared to imagine. It was time to put his newfound knowledge to the test. With no way of knowing what this battle would bring, Clive had no choice but to trust in his instincts, his strategy, and his Pokemon.

[Ashen]

The apartment was so much emptier in Clive’s absence than it had been before he’d arrived. Freya locked the door behind him, but it was Yulia who was left with control of the body, who felt the weight teetering on her shoulders. All of the time and energy she had dedicated to studying hard and becoming a detective, taking on this case, giving it her all… It was all going to come down to a single battle, one she couldn’t even partake in. She trusted her partner, of course she did, but Freya had been right that he wasn’t a battle. He and his Pokemon were under a tremendous amount of pressure because of her, and the only thing Yulia could do now was wait.

~~~

The following week passed by in a blur. Yulia was horribly unwell, so she couldn’t fight Freya for control as often as she would have liked. Freya loved it, and she spent much of her time in preparation for her battle. She took her time contacting her hidden admins, ensuring that they would go through with her plans if she failed. She wasn’t concerned about it, but a deal was a deal after all, and she was powerless to betray a blood pact. Not a single one of her underlings dared to ask what she was up to.

Freya also took her time with Yulia’s Pokemon. Zita and Valkyrie had shown their distaste for their master’s doppelganger as long as Yulia had had them, but it was Yulia’s voice that reassured them they needed to obey Freya. Yulia feared what Freya would do to them if they dared stepped out of line. She had seen firsthand what Avarice did to disobedient Pokemon, what pain Freya had designed, and Yulia would never be able to watch her Pokemon go through that. Ivy, her Skourpi, had the sense to remain in her ball, but her other Pokemon spent long and tiring hours on different battlefields, pitted against each other and the never-ending arsenal of stolen Pokemon Freya had at her disposal. Yulia didn’t know when Freya had become such a powerful Pokemon master, but with each day, with each new training session, Yulia grew more and more fearful about the upcoming battle.

Finally it came time to face him. Yulia hadn’t slept that night, hadn’t slept all week; Freya had stolen whatever chance of sleep she might have had. Now, as she dragged herself out of bed and pressed a button on her coffee maker, Yulia couldn’t stop herself from trembling. Today, the fate of Team Avarice, of her life’s work, of her partner, of her future, would be decided. She let out a long, shaky breath and, while her coffee cooled, she took a seat at her personal computer.

It had been a long time since she had logged into social media. Yulia hadn’t made many friends at the Academy, opting to focus too hard on her studies instead, but her friends lists were populated with the names of people she had once known. Some she hadn’t seen in years, and she wondered if they even remembered her. Yulia felt compelled to say her goodbyes still. She drafted a public message, thanking the people in her life who had gotten her where she was. Her message was longer than she meant, and she scheduled it to be posted tomorrow afternoon. If, somehow, Clive managed to not only win this battle but also find a way to free her from a life sentence, then Yulia would delete the post before it could go live. But, more likely, everyone she knew would be finding out tomorrow what a villain she was.

Fritz walked up to her, snaking between her legs with a long meow. Yulia pushed away from her computer and bent down to scratch him between the ears. “If I don’t come back,” she told him, “I need you to go to Heather in 209.” Yulia had determined the young woman was the least likely to turn away a stray Pokemon in the whole apartment complex. She had considered leaving a note for Heather on her door, but she hadn’t wanted to scare her. Yulia just hoped her darling Pokemon—all of them—would be okay when she was gone.

“You’re wasting time.”

“I know.” Yulia rose to retrieve her mug of coffee. “Just… let me have this.”

She could practically feel Freya rolling her eyes. “The psychic is waiting,” she reminded petulantly, but she retreated, leaving Yulia with her final moments of peace.

~~~

The drive to their agreed upon meeting place was long enough that Yulia had more than enough time to worry about what was to come but far too quick to think of a way to stop it all. When she arrived, Freya took over and parked the car illegally on some grass. She fidgeted in the skirt Yulia had chosen and gave an annoyed grunt before ducking into the cave.

Several Pokemon scurried out of her way. The locals had yet to know for sure how Avarice’s interference would affect the fauna of this area, but the Pokemon were still hostile at having their homes destroyed or mutilated. Yulia’ trapped in the passenger seat of her own body, watched them run from her. She didn’t want to think about her role in their aggression now.

Eventually, the pathways opened to a wide cavern dimly lit by Pokemon. The click of Yulia’s boots thundered across the place, terrifying. They were alone, or so they thought until a voice emerged from the darkness. “Leader.” It was the psychic, seated cross-legged and levitating near the back of the cave as if they had been there the whole time. Had they been there the whole time?

Freya approached with the slightest bow of acknowledgment. “Is everything in place?”

The psychic nodded and smirked under their mask. “Oiler has a trick up his sleeves today,” they purred.

Freya narrowed her eyes. “So do I.” She reached for her belt and ran her fingers over the six balls secured there. She had pored over her selection, using her knowledge of Clive’s team and her supply of stolen, powerful Pokemon. She had been sure her selection would perfectly counter his team, but the psychic’s words gave her pause. She ultimately decided the words of a weirdo were not worth listening to.

Footsteps echoed, and Freya turned to find Clive approaching. “There you are,” she said, and Freya’s voice seemed to rumble throughout the cavern.

A Pokemon emerged from a ball behind her, and when Freya turned to the psychic again, she saw that they had summoned an Alakazam. The Pokemon looked her over with its narrow, all-knowing eyes before turning to size up Clive. The psychic too looked between them. “Shall we?” they urged.

“Yes.” Freya waited for Clive to approach them. “A pact paid with blood,” she said, then summarized their terms: “Should I win the following battle, Clive Oiler agrees to resign from Team Avarice’s case and destroy all evidence he has gathered since taking it on. Should he win, I agree to disband Team Avarice and, should Clive find a way to undo the curse that has bound me to my host for twenty years, I agree to pay for my crimes alone.” Freya then turns to Clive. “That covers everything, right?”

The psychic lingered. They held a dagger now, though Freya couldn’t remember them taking it out of their robes. A blood pact required the consent of both parties, and as Freya offered her bare wrist, they waited for Clive to agree to her terms.

[Headwrapper]

Steeling himself, Clive set down his bag, then approached Freya and the mysterious figure that was with her. Without a doubt, the hovering trainer was the psychic that was selected to facilitate the blood pact. Clive could not help but eye their masked face with tremendous suspicion as he took his place across from Freya to listen to the terms of their battle. The light of the purple flames around them danced across everything, waving in amazement as Freya summarized their arrangement. Clive watched as they danced across his opponents familiar face, the six Pokeballs she possessed, and the psychic's strange mask. They reflected just right on one of Alakazam's spoons, which it held onto like life depended on it, and Clive observed the humanoid Pokemon for a long while. For some reason, it reminded him of that Drowzee sniffing around for dreams just outside of Goldenrod, the morning he met Yulia.

Suddenly, all eyes were on him. "Hmm," Clive hummed, agreeing to Freya's terms. His upper lip curled as the icy steel of the dagger cut into his skin, loosing thick drops of blood. Before any of the crimson drops could hit the ground, they paused, hovering in the air momentarily before ascending back towards the dagger. As the blade floated between Clive and Freya, their blood was drawn into the steel. It absorbed the scarlet ichor hungrily until the blade was stained a deep red color. The pact had been formed, and as the dagger slipped back into its sheath, the battlers' fates were placed on the scales to be weighed against each other.

As they separated to take their positions, Clive squeezed his hand. It shook with an incredible tremor that he could hardly control. "Focus," he hissed to himself, afraid of letting the adrenaline cloud his judgement. He took his position, a few strides away from his bag, a far distance away from Freya. Upon ridding himself of its weight, his trench coat flopped heavily on the ground, kicking up a plume of dust. The dust had not even settled before Clive lifted two of his five Pokeballs in one hand. "It's up to you to even the odds," he said into the scarred ball.

Clive was eager, but not stupid. He made sure Freya had selected her starting Pokemon, watching her through his usual, exasperated expression, before loosing his Pokemon. Gengar was almost completely camouflaged in the darkness of the cavern. Save for its blood red eyes, which glowed brightly as the Pokemon lifted its eyelids. The ground beneath him rumbled as Clive's second Pokemon took form, slamming the ground heavily with its colossal tail. Like Clive, Dragonite was eager with anticipation, loosing a loud roar as it appeared on the battlefield.

Freya also sent out two powerful Pokemon: Mienshao and Golurk. Perhaps luck was on Clive's side after all, he thought. If he played his cards right, neither oppoenent would pose too great of a threat to his two starting fighters. Dragonite, battle scarred and war torn, could take quite a few hits. His other Pokemon would not be easy to hit in the first place. Without missing a beat, Clive commanded Dragonite to perform its Dragon Dance. "Don't be shy about it!" he added. Dragonite took to the air with a heavy beat of its wings, weaving and swerving as it performed the ancient dance. And as Clive commanded, the Pokemon refused to be defensive with its moves. It veered dangerously close to Meinshao, as if to posture its brute strength. Even from a distance, Clive could feel the intimidating power that Dragonite possessed. It was the same as when he captured it in the Dragon's Den....




"So, you've returned," the Elder at the Dragon's Den stated.

Clive held up a newly repaired Pokeball. The material on its face was still scratched, but the hinge and latch were fully functional. "I have."

"I will take you to him, then."

After descending deeper into the Den, Clive finally saw him, standing on a small remote island in the center of the Den's watery cavern. His father's Dragonite. Upon sensing Clive, the Pokemon took flight, landing in front of its old friend. "I need to know that I can do this. It's the only way to know if I can beat Freya, and to beat Avarice once and for all. So don't hold back."

It was a long, hard fought battle. The scratched Pokeball shook one final time on the stone floor of the Dragon's Den. Then, it quivered as the latch clicked with a confirmed catch. Clive dropped to his knees, exhausted of the battle just as much as he was ecstatic with his victory. I can really do this, he thought.




The memory of his victory at the Dragon's Den refreshed in his mind, Clive continued to extend his commands. Gengar would be able to move well before Golurk would. "Into the shadows," he commanded, and Gengar promptly vanished, a phantom in the caves walls. Before long, Freya's Pokemon had a chance to catch up. They interrupted Dragonite's dance with a few moves, but he resisted, staying in flight. Power emanated from the dragon's limbs, crackling with anticipation. Dragonite descended upon Mienshao with Outrage, preparing to crush it with all of its might. With a well-timed Ally Switch, Mienshao vanished, and the sturdier Golurk took its place. Dragonite's attack landed with so much ferocity that the Golurk fell to the ground, kicking up dust. After a long pause, the golem began to rise.

"Now!" Clive commanded.

Suddenly, Gengar appeared from behind Golurk, striking it with a vicious blow to the head. That was enough to eliminate the large golem-like Pokemon from the battle. Its partially risen body fell back down. The massive, outstretched arms slammed the ground and kicked up another cloud of dust, covering everything. Undoubtedly, Golurk's defeat would be confirmed once the dust settles.

Responding to its orders, Mienshao suddenly emerged from the dust cloud, spinning wildly as it rose to deliver a surprise attack to Dragonite during the commotion.

Dragonite was too fast, thanks to the benefits of his earlier Dragon Dance. It spun to meet Mienshao's blow, matching it with its tail. The fighting-type folded over the appendage like a closing book, expelling air loudly as the tail crashed into its abdomen. A wild roar loosed from Dragonite's jaws as it continued the swing in a furious pirouette, sending its opponent flying in a completely different direction. Mienshao hit the ground, tumbling as it failed to recover. When it finally skidded to a halt, it was clear that Mienshao and Golurk were no longer able to battle.

Clive continued trying to still his trembling hand. He knew better than to boast so early in the battle, but there was no denying that the start of this battle went as well as he could have ever hoped. Factoring the damage his Pokemon had taken during the first skirmish, he judged that his and Freya's teams were now about even. The challenge had only just begun; in a few seconds, they would be facing two freshly rested Pokemon.

[Ashen]

The battle was in full swing now. Freya commanded her team with a grace Yulia had never had the confidence to possess. She glided around her side of the field, pointing out her targets and yelling to her Pokemon with a clear, commanding voice. This, apparently, was not enough to keep them alive, and when Freya withdrew her Golurk and Mienshao in quick succession, anger exploded across her face. She threw the Poke Balls to the ground, and a deep crack formed at the top of one of them. “Worthless,” she snarled as she looked to her bag for her next fighters.

The psychic and their Alakazam watched her tantrum from the sidelines, a small smirk hiding under the human’s mask. They already knew how this battle was going to go, of course, but seeing how it played out was no less fun because of it. They ran their hands over their dagger, now full with strangers’ blood, and pondered what could be done with it. An angry soul like Freya’s was a powerful force in their magic, but… The psychic looked at Clive as he commanded his Pokemon. Something told them there was already a use for Freya in the cards.

Freya didn’t take long choosing her next Pokemon. She sized up Clive’s two, a Dragonite and a Gengar, and from there her choice was obvious. She paused, though, her fingers hesitating over the minimized form of her Pokemon’s Balls. That Dragonite… Freya had never cared much for which Pokemon her subordinates used. As long as they weren’t useless in battle, it was all the same to her. But Freya recognized the scar on that Dragonite’s face, and she grunted to herself. That had been Phoenix’s Pokemon. Was Clive trying to disarm her by using a Pokemon she would recognize? She turned towards her bag and reconsidered. Well, two could play at that game.

The Primarina fell from the air with a flourish, and it immediately locked eyes with the swift and strong Dragonite. Freya’s second Pokemon erupted from its Ball but remained in the air, its powerful wings throwing dust and rocks everywhere below it. It was a Braviary. Yulia's Braviary, and Valkyrie’s discomfort with this whole situation was clear on his face. He spared only a backwards glance at his master—to the witch he wore his master’s face—before setting his sights on the battle. He, like all of Yulia’s Pokemon, had been told to obey orders, but that did not mean he had to be happy about it.

Freya called out, giving each Pokemon a list of attacks to use, and the flurry of moves came at Clive’s side with no hesitation. The Dragonite, despite its heightened speed and attack, was powerless against Primarina’s Ice Beam. When it fell, the water-fairy Pokemon turned towards its trainer to celebrate, but Freya’s attention was already on her next moves. The Braviary almost landed an attack on Gengar, but the ghost Pokemon was too slippery. When Clive recalled it to its Ball, Freya straightened and hummed to herself. She wondered what he had planned.

Next came a Houndoom and Clive’s precious Umbreon. The latter was one of his star Pokemon, and Freya could remember with an amused grin the look on his face when she had made fun of him for his Pokemon’s failing health. It had had its time to heal, but Freya still wasn’t worried about it. The thing was weak, and it would bow down to the powerful Pokemon she had chosen. She called out new attacks, ordering her Primarina’s focus on the Houndoom while Valkyrie took the Umbreon. The Braviary’s face was twisted in remorse; he knew this adversary, and he never wanted to hurt it, but he trusted Yulia. He needed to.

One particularly reckless Brave Bird later and Umbreon was out of battle. The Houndoom, who had been supported by an array of Umbreon’s defensive moves, was able to withstand a Bubble Beam to its face, and it came back with a vigor Freya hadn’t been expecting. Her Primarina succumbed to the Houndoom, but her odds were still looking good. Clive was down two Pokemon with one injured, which meant he had two healthy Pokemon to go. In addition to Braviary, Freya had two more as well, but she was looking forward to seeing how Clive would handle this.

The jewel Pokemon Diancie let out a beautiful, high-pitched cry when it landed on the battlefield. It seemed to smile at Clive, and it twirled so that the crystals on its body sparkled. Freya waited for Clive to choose his next Pokemon, and when he settled on Gengar again, she smirked. This would be too easy.

The psychic gave their Alakazam a knowing look. The mythical Pokemon Diancie would be the rarest one they would see that day, and they were impressed at Freya’s ability to attain it. To steal it.

Freya flashed Clive a Cheshire grin. Their battle had had no clauses against using mythical Pokemon, and she was sure he hadn’t been expecting a trump card like this. Diancie was the perfect counter to his team, and she had gone through great lengths to obtain it just for this. She could practically feel victory already. Clive had had a great start, but this battle was going to wrap up in Freya’s favor, now.

[Headwrapper]

Freya's anger did not go unnoticed by Clive. The cracked ball that sat at her feet flickered dimly, reflecting the flames around the battlefield. Any heedlessness Team Avarice's leader may have had was likely gone now. The battle was only going to be more difficult from here. Clive steeled himself as the next pair of Pokemon were summoned. His jaw clenched at the sight of Valkyrie, who was clearly disconcerted by the situation.

The other Pokemon Freya chose to send out was going to be a larger issue for his team. Dragonite was at a type disadvantage, and Shadow, disguised as Gengar, lacked the mastery of poison moves that the real thing had. Not to mention that a stray hit from either opponent would likely take the Zorua out. Clive did not have enough time to think of an out and issued his commands with reactive compulsion. Shadow disappeared, outwardly mimicking Gengar's ability to hide in the shadows, and Dragonite dipped and dived around Primarina's ice beam. Lightning crackled around Dragonite's firsts as he swerved viciously, but ultimately, it was impossible to get close enough to finish off Primarina.

Not now, Clive thought as Dragonite collapsed. He returned it to its ball reluctantly. Dragonite had fought well and Clive could not help but feel like he let the dragon Pokemon down. As he returned the scratched Pokeball to his hip, Clive promised to make it up to Dragonite by winning. He recalled Shadow and sent out Houndoom and Umbreon.

The two Pokemon Clive trusted the most stood firmly, dutifully awaiting their commands. Deep within his gut, Clive's stomach turned remorsefully at the sight of Umbreon. It was too early to bring him back into the thick of battle, especially against such powerful Pokemon, but what choice did he have? Besides, Umbreon would never have forgiven him if he fought such an important battle without his most longstanding companion. Even if the path to victory was going to be painful.

His heart heavy with each command, Clive directed his Umbreon to defend Houndoom at all costs. Light Screen minimized the damage from Primarina's special moves. Houndoom howled as he charged towards Primarina, his jaws crackling with yellow sparks. Umbreon kept pace, a milky white light glowing around him before he bestowed energy to its partner using Helping Hand. The white light transferred to Houndoom then, and the pair split from each other. Umbreon dove towards Valkyrie defiantly, and the two Pokemon colliding with a loud crash.

Faithful to his trainer's commands, Houndoom pushed passed Primarina's attacks, trumpeting another loud howl before collapsing its electrically charged jaws around Primarina with its Thunder Fang attack.

When the dust settled, both Freya and Clive lost a Pokemon in the skirmish. A faint shimmer, like a star, ascended from Umbreon's limp frame. Clive wondered if Freya even noticed it. "Thank you," he whispered, returning his cherished companion to its ball. A sudden mindfulness swept itself over Clive. He was more mindful of how dark the cave had been, how ominous the disguised psychic was as he watched them battle, and how much his own hand trembled. Did it only start again now, or had it been trembling since he noticed it at the start of the battle?

His awareness did not end there. He could tell in Freya's body language that she was already excited to move onto her next Pokemon. Despite that, Clive could not have predicted that the next opponent in the lineup was going to be the mythical Pokemon, Diancie. The diamonds around the Pokemon sparkled as it twirled, relishing in its own entrance. Clive tapped at his breast pocket nervously, and Rotom-phone appeared before him to confirm that the Pokemon was a Fairy and Rock type. Rotom also added a comment about how powerful a mythical Pokemon was. "I'll keep that in mind," Clive muttered, stowing the phone away.

The timing was inopportune. Had Clive known he would be facing such a Pokemon, he could have adapted his strategy. Umbreon knew one steel-type move, and perhaps his other Pokemon could have found ways to whittle down the threat. There was really only one good option for him now. Taking a moment to double check that he had the right Pokeball, he loosed Gengar, the real Gengar, fresh and ready to battle.

"Is that all you got?" Clive called out to Freya. He was bluffing, and she probably knew it, too. However, Clive was sure that his comment would annoy her, even if only a little. Diancie would be strong, really strong, but his Pokemon were faster. Gengar disappeared into the shadows, twice as fast as the doppelganger before it.

As Gengar vanished, Houndoom loosed a cloud of poisonous smog towards the other side of the battlefield. Clive clenched his quivering hand into a fist, hoping that this would give him a chance. At best, Diancie may be inflicted with poison, and at worst, the smog would serve as a mild distraction that Clive could take advantage of.

[Ashen]

Freya could tell Clive was immobilized by her choice of Pokemon, and just like that, everything she’d done to bring Diancie here was worth it. She smirked when she saw him mumble something into his Rotom-phone, and she even swore she saw his hands shaking. He knew he was out of his depth, and nothing his silly phone could tell him would change that. Freya could have laughed. But his insult, shouted over the fray of their battling Pokemon, formed a crease in her brow. Had he been expecting more than a mythical Pokemon? It was true; in pursuing her organization, the man had dealt with each of the legendary beasts of Johto. Maybe Diancie wasn’t the trump card she thought it was. Freya scowled, and she yelled a new command at her Pokemon, trying to ignore Clive’s stupid remark.

Diancie quickly proved its prowess in battle. Though it moved very slowly, its attacks were powerful, blasting into Clive’s Pokemon before they could find the chance to prepare. A single Power Gem was enough to take out the already-injured Houndoom, and as Diancie readied its Earth Power, Freya was sure the Gengar would be disposed of just as easily. But the Gengar faded into thin air, drifting away from where the attack would have hit it, and Freya swore under her breath. She yelled to the Braviary, and Valkyrie quickly obeyed, but with his target invisible, there was no way his attacks could make contact.

What did it matter though, really? With Houndoom out, Clive only had two more Pokemon: his Gengar and something else—likely the Zorua he favored. But with Gengar injured from its last stand in this battle, and Zorua being a puny, unevolved thing, Freya doubted Clive would be able to do anything. She had to stop herself from celebrating her victory already.

If she had glanced over at the psychic at that moment, she would have seen the wide, half-hidden grin and chuckling form that suggested this wasn’t over yet.

When Shadow came onto the field, Freya shifted her weight and grunted. Now she just had to finish this. She commanded her Braviary to beat his massive wings, an attack not aimed at either of Clive’s Pokemon but at her own team. Diancie was strong, but it would be even stronger riding its partner’s Tailwind. Freya then took a moment to study the Gengar and Zorua. The Gengar moved too quickly, uninhibited, as if it wasn’t injured at all. As if this was the first time it had seen this battle. “I see,” she said to herself, her eyes landing on the small dark-type Pokemon. “You think you’re clever.”

Freya focused all of her attention on Diancie, calling attack after attack and relishing the mythical Pokemon’s raw power. It didn’t come as a surprise when Braviary was defeated, and she recalled the fainted bird with barely a glance towards him. She tossed her final Poke Ball into the air, and out came her host’s precious Zita, the very same Beartic—just a Cubchoo then—that her parents had given her so long ago. Zita, like Valkyrie, had received Yulia’s instructions to follow Freya’s orders. The ferocious polar bear narrowed her eyes at Freya, and when she turned to the opposite side of the battlefield to size up her opponents, she seemed remorseful. Resigned. She was a powerful foe, but a tortured captive of a battle she did not want to win.

Freya crossed her arms over her chest. “Let’s see how you handle these two,” she said, indicating the two unstoppable forces on her side of the field. Maybe it had been her own oversight that had defeated Yulia’s Braviary, but Clive would have no chance against a mythical Pokemon and his own partner’s childhood friend.