{Ashen x Drakonnas} Ransei's Revenge {Rated M for Mature}

[Drakonnas]

Galen watched the young lad, listening carefully, trying to understand what was being said. The hand gestures helped, and he was able to generally piece together what the boy was trying to say, though there were places he had to guess, and wasn't sure if his guess was correct or not. Scratching his beard lightly, Galen put a light hand on Nightengale. The boy had pronounced his name, though it seemed rough on his tongue, too. He wasn't sure what the kid was feeling or thinking, he was both scared, excited, angry, and enthusiastic at the same time, and it wasn't easy to interpret.

Galen spoke, using hand gestures to tell a story just as much as his words did. "Big winds, big seas." He said, imitating a storm with his voice and arms. It was very much like any old storyteller, acting out and illustrating their tale, it was an old tradition commonly found in most areas, bards, storytellers, oral communication being linked with acting, dancing, song. Galen wondered if the people of Ransei did anything similar. "Ship after lost big wind."

Galen made a scene of opening his map to study, and then looking around for land. "I come... to learn people, give cloth, get eat." He knew he wasn't speaking very well, he just hoped that the Ransei child would understand. He then touched the silver feather on his necklace. "Seek this treasure."

Finally, he held out a hand to Kinta. "Kinta. I not attack. Friend."

[Ashen]

Kinta liked the way Galen started speaking, as if he were telling a story. It reminded him of when his family would gather for storytelling. The children would all be silent as they watched with wide eyes at the storyteller, some adult of the tribe, sometimes even an elder. They would tell stories of anything: of lands beyond the seas, of legendary Pokemon, of ancient wars of their own tribes. What Kinta wouldn't give to hear those stories again. Watching Galen, it brought back bittersweet memories, and the child did not want them to come to an end.

From what Kinta could gather, Galen's ship had gone off track and brought him here. He was exploring the seas again, and wanted to learn more about foreign customs, and to help people find food and clothes. Kinta didn't know if that was exactly what the pirate was trying to say, but he did seem harmless, for now. When he pointed to his silver feather necklace, Kinta smiled and touched at his own chest. "I have a treasure too," he said, and he tugged at a rope hidden by his T shirt.

The boy wrapped his thin fingers around a shell. It resembled the home of an Omanyte, though much smaller and golden. There were foreign symbols etched into it, and if the pirate were able to read the Ransei script, he would be able to see the emblem told of Kinta's name, and a string of numbers and letters that seemed like gibberish. It was the unique Ransei timekeeping system, and the child's birthday, marking him at twelve years old. Kinta, who had never been taught to read, showed his first birthday present off, oblivious. "We all had one," he said happily. "Are you able to read?"

His smile faded when Galen called himself a friend. The wounded boy wasn't about to believe that yet, no matter how sincere this pirate looked. Still, the curiosity was getting the better of him. He walked closely to the man and shoved his necklace towards him. "All men know to read. You must read this for me. For many moons I have struggled to know what is etched into my necklace. Please." His blue-green eyes looked up at him, hopeful. Behind him, Anyo was warily watching, wondering why his trainer was so close to the enemy.

[Drakonnas]

The old man frowned as he held the necklace that Kinta had showed him in his hands. This script looked familiar, but he did not recall the exact meanings of things. His book about the Ransei people, back on his ship, would allow him to decipher this text though. He would have to communicate this idea back to Kinta though.

The boy wanted to know something. At first, he wondered if Kinta were giving him something, but from what he had been able to piece together, he gathered that the boy wanted knowledge of some sort. He turned his bespectacled eyes over to Kinta, and they seemed to pierce right through the boy, searching him, trying to gather some knowledge.

Finally, he held out the necklace again, with a gentle and weathered hand. Several scars were present on his hand, and over his arms in general. Working on the seas for so long did not leave one untouched by the wind, weather, or water. "I don't take knowing out this." He said briefly. "But. On boat, scroll with symbols. I morning in come back, spoke word better."

He meant to say that he would return in the morning, and would help the lad understand what the necklace said. It was getting dark, and he would have to get back to the ship sooner or later. But his eyes roamed over the boy, and noted again the terrible condition of the clothes. He would bring some new ones in the morning as well. But he did have a little treat for Anyo though.

Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a pokeblock, a bit of pokemon candy, and offered it to the smaller dragon. Levias, who had seemed bored with the proceedings, watched enviously. Galen laughed, and spoke in his natural tongue. "Oh, Levias, you beautiful thing. Of course you can have one too. Go get it!" He threw the pokeblock up into the air, towards the ocean. Levias jumped into the water, and then leaped out with a mighty splash to catch the block in midair.

[Ashen]

It was clear this pirate did not know what had been etched into Kinta's necklace. This depressed the boy more than it should have. He had had his necklace all his life. It was the last gift his people had given directly to him. All these years of solitude, the child had been hoping and praying that maybe, maybe these writings he had never been taught to read would mean something. He didn't know what possible words of encouragement his tribe might have left him, and now, his only hope at finding out had been fruitless. Quickly, Kinta looked away to hide his disappointment.

The pirate tried to speak some more, and Kinta smirked at his words. "Mercy?" he asked, an invitation for Galen to repeat himself. He waved him away, taking what little information he could from the chopped up words. "You've information on your ship? Will you be docking here?" Kinta did not know what that meant. If Galen's ship would be staying right next to the island of Ransei, what would that mean for Kinta? Would the child and Anyo be safe in their cave? If Galen found them during the night, just how easy would it be to end the last Ransei survivor? He didn't want to think about that. He hoped he and Anyo wouldn't be hidden enough so that, even if Galen did try anything stupid, they would not be found.

The child was pulled from his thoughts as Galen spoke to his Gyarados. It was the strange language Kinta didn't understand again, and it seemed this... Levias was excited to have the treat his trainer brought him. He too had offered a treat to Anyo, who took it up and sniffed at it. Kinta was quick to pluck the cube-shaped candy out of the Sliggoo's hands. "With what do you present Anyo?" he asked. He examined the block, broke off a piece, and sniffed at it himself. It smelled sweet. Was it poisonous? But Galen had just given his own Pokemon one. Was it possible that only this one was poisoned?

After a moment Anyo started whimpering, reaching up for his stolen treat. Kinta noticed and hesitated. He placed the piece of candy in his mouth and, upon not tasting anything immediately bitter, he gave the rest to Anyo. The Pokemon chomped away happily, singing a happy little tune when he finished. Kinta smiled down at his Pokemon. He turned his attention back to Galen. "I will walk you back to your ship." It might have seemed polite, but Kinta knew nothing more of politeness. He had been away from people too long. The kid wanted to make sure Galen actually did get on his ship, and that there was no way he would follow him or Anyo back to their cave.

[Drakonnas]

-

[Ashen]

Kinta had to stop himself from laughing as well. This man really had the audacity to tell him he needed to pick his battles more closely? This man was underestimating him. This child had been on his own for years, fending for himself when kids his age would not dream of growing up. If he'd not had strength in him he'd have never survived. And this man thought he were stronger? Kinta scoffed. He'd let the man think what he would. After all, if Edward was lying about wanting to harm him or his home, the sorry old pirate would taste the wrath of the orphan child.

As they walked, Kinta was surprised to find Edward speaking about his homeland. A desert with no trees or wild Pokemon? It sounded so foreign, so horrible. Could a place like that be real? And battling for sport, that was something his own people did, but atop a volcano? This man certainly was an oddity, one Kinta would enjoy studying. To not have trees... Dangerous or not, Kinta was certain he knew at least one thing about Edward: he was utterly deprived. The child made his way to a tree along their path and grabbed hold of it, climbing far enough up that Edward would not be able to reach him. He climbed and then swung through the trees more effortlessly than an Aipom, still managing to balance the Sliggoo and spear in one hand. To not have the freedom of doing this... Kinta could not imagine.

It was only a short while before they arrived at the waterfall. Kinta leapt down from his tree landing, with perfect balance, on his feet. He motioned around them with his spear. "The waterfall," he murmured, taking in the rumbling behind him and the call of wild Pokemon a distance away. "Berries are over there, and the water is clean enough to drink. This is what you wanted?" He looked over the man, watched as he took in the sight of the waterfall. This was a pirate; why would he show any attention to water? Besides that, there was something bugging the child, something he had been wondering for a while. He thought back to all he had said about his homeland. Deserts, that meant sun... Did the sun not turn one's skin dark? The child looked down at his arms, his olive darkened by dirt and hours of sun exposure. Edward's was... different. "Why is your skin white?"

His question was blunt, and the pirate might even think him rude. Kinta meant no harm, the child was genuinely curious. He had never seen such a white person before. Was Edward's tribe--no, family--had they been like that, too? If he truly was a pirate, the sun would never allow him to keep such a pale complexion. Unless... Did people this pale not absorb sunlight at all? Did whatever disease he had prevent his skin from gathering its rays? "Have you come to extinguish me?" he asked, assuming a more defensive stance once more. "You will turn my skin your foul color. What disease have you, and why have you brought it here?"

[Drakonnas]

-

[Ashen]

It was hard to believe such paleness was normal for anyone. Kinta wondered what other people looked like, what other colors there were. Just how many different skin tones were out there? What about hair and eyes--did those come so varied as well? He had only ever seen his tribe, his tribe of dark-skinned, dark-haired people. His own eyes, that ocean blue, were an abnormality in his tribe; how many other colors were there? He found himself wanting to venture to the outside world, and see all these varied people for himself. Could he so easily leave the only place he'd ever known? He didn't want to think about it.

He met the pirate's eye and raised his eyebrow. This Edward, at least he knew Sitrus berries were safe. Maybe he wasn't so clueless. He was telling him to ask... Could he? Could Kinta ask him for the thing he'd been working for all his solitary life? The child turned away and shrugged, then let Anyo down. The Sliggoo looked up at him curiously. "Away," Kinta said softly, and the Pokemon obeyed, turning to face the pond of the waterfall. Anyo jumped into it, giggling all the while. The sight made Kinta smile, but he had deeper matters to attend to. He turned back to Edward and let out a small sigh. Then, in a firm voice, he started to speak.

"My tribe never had the chance to teach me to be a man. A child of seven, that is hardly a person who can care for himself. But how were they to predict the massacre that took them from me? They never trained me for this. I have learned many things through trial and error over these years. I can hunt, and fish, and fashion my own tools. I have even taught myself how to weave my own cloths, though I am afraid I am running out of material. I have taught myself much, but perhaps there are some things one cannot teach himself. I would like to ask you, Edward. You seem competent, and I am aware of my limited resources. So I implore you. Would you teach me to be a man?"

The way he leaned closer to the pirate, spear pointed away, eyes shining like the deepest of oceans; Kinta was very eager to hear the pirate's answer. So long he had tried to be the man his tribe would have been proud of, but all this time, hadn't he been a directionless kid? Asking the help of a pirate hardly seemed ideal, but there was no queue of people waiting to come to his island. Edward would have to do, if he accepted.

[Drakonnas]

-

[Ashen]

The pirate was silent for a long time, and Kinta could see him deeply considering his request. The child could not claim to know exactly what was going through the man's mind, but he had a feeling it had something to do with the lost loved ones the pirate still missed. Kinta stayed respectful, opting to turn his attention to the waterfall and to Anyo. For such a serious request, he had all the time in the world for Edward to consider.

But then came Edward's answer, and Kinta allowed the smile to split his face. He nodded his head, wondering just how he could teach about a culture he'd only studied for seven years. "To me," Kinta said to Anyo, and the Sliggoo hopped out of the water to rejoin his trainer. Kinta picked up Anyo and motioned with his head towards Edward. "I will never be able to forget my family," he said. "I could not if I tried. You need not preoccupy yourself with such thoughts." And with that Kinta started off once more, effortlessly climbing over vegetation, stepping over memorized uneven terrain, assuming the man would follow.

In a short time Kinta was standing before a deserted civilization. Broken huts lined the sands, shattered tools dotted the grass, and old and forgotten trinkets lay like shrapnel across the old village. The child could still see the ocean of red that had passed through this village that day, so long ago. It was clear he had quite some difficulty approaching his old home, but he did it anyway. He disappeared into one of the huts and looked around. "This was the hut of our patriarch, the tribe elder, Fway." The hut looked dark and gloomy. There were several cracks in the clay walls, and half of the roof had crumbled to the floor. Paintings marked the walls, hieroglyphs made long ago. Abandoned furniture decorated the hut. "When he was alive, he had a large chair here--" Kinta motioned to the middle of the hut--"and my people would gather around to listen to him on rainy days. On those that were sunny, we would gather outside. Adults went to him for advice. We children went to him for stories. The boys went to train with him to be men. Elder Fway was the strongest warrior in my tribe, and one day I can only hope to be like him."

Out of that hut and into the next. This one was far more broken, with its entire roof missing and its walls cracked in two. "This was one of the huts in which the children slept," he said. "This was where I stayed while the pirates destroyed my people." He went to the wall, to a decaying tapestry. Carefully, Kinta pulled it aside, revealing a niche in the wall just big enough to hide a grown man. "I stayed here even when they shot my best friend. This is why I am alive today. Look to the wall there. You can see how the blood splattered as the skull of my friend was cracked."

He was eerily calm stating this, as if he no longer held emotion for such things. That, of course, was untrue, but having never experienced something like this before the incident, Kinta had never known how to react to all that had happened. He had remembered how, never once, had he seen a man of his tribe cry, and he had locked his own tears away where he could not reach them. Now, as he recalled the wretched sight, tears threatened to fall, but he quickly brushed them away and left that hut.

Outside, he pointed to an area with a small stone bench. "I mentioned," he said. "This is the area to which people would gather. Every autumn we would gather here with a pot and throw in the lasts of our harvests to make a stew for everyone. My tribe did not grow much, but every year we had enough stew to last for days. We would gather and during over-table* we would share stories and advice. It was a tradition we all enjoyed. ...Now it is gone." The realization suddenly dawned on him. It had been a long while since he'd allowed himself to think of these things. With all of it coming back so quickly, Kinta did not know what to do. But he was a man now. He would not show weakness. With that, he nodded and continued on.

He proceeded to show Edward around the rest of his broken village, showing him the area designated to the healers, the hunters, the warriors, the women, the elderly, the children. He showed him to the yard they had had for Pokemon, and some old Pokemon toys still dotted the playground. Much of the belongings of the Ransei tribe had been stolen, and what remained was a bloodied, rusted, ruined mess. But still Kinta showed it all, and when he finished he stood in the center of the village. "This was what was taken from me," he said evenly. "I was too young to memorize much culture, but what I know I share with you. In my family, we valued strength over anything else. Often debates were settled through battles and swordplay. Ransei, a tribe of warriors... An ironic end came about my people. I seek to let them live on." He turned up to Edward, his eyes moist and saddened. "What more would you like to know?"

* over-table - a Ransei word referring to the conversation shared over a communal meal