"Brave Bird"
"Everyone! Quick! You have to come see this!" shouted a Taillow as it burst in from the floor hatch and flapped wildly to get the room's attention.
The room was a small oval-shaped hall, its two long walls lined with tiny alcoves and long ledges. At one end of the room, a couple bird Pokémon where perched on the ledge and were chatting about the day's accomplishments as the Taillow barged in.
"Oh, great," a Pidgey said, rolling his eyes. "This had better be good."
"What is it?!" a Staravia replied in annoyance. "I'm not budging unless the entire wing is on fire."
"Relax, he probably just saw something in the news," a Spearow joked. "We'll see it tomorrow if it's anything important."
"No, no! You don't understand!" The Taillow said as it fluttered closer, not even stopping to perch. "Master Karow—"
"Look, do you have any idea how many miles I just flew today?" the Staravia shot angrily. "I had to fly to Fort Temper—and back—without resting. I'm done for the day."
"HEY!" the Taillow shouted. "The new kid beat up Master Karow!"
A gasp arose from the room, followed by stunned silence.
"You're joking." the Spearow said. "You can't be serious."
"No joke!" the Taillow insisted. "I just saw it happen! Guys, you have to come!"
"Master Karow?" the Pidgey gaped. "That can't be! No way!"
At once, the birds rose from the ledge and flocked behind the Taillow to come see.
"I always knew that new kid was crazy," the Spearow squawked as the group landed before the entrance to the team's training chamber. "I've always been scared to battle him. It's like he doesn't know the difference between training and trying to kill you."
"Are you kidding? That kid still thinks he's in the wild," the Taillow said. "Remember what he did to Midoh? And Spear? You can't say anything to him without getting his feathers ruffled. And now this?"
"He's crazy," the Pidgey said. "Do you ever look him in the eyes? Whenever he looks at me, it always looks like he's plotting to rake me open in my sleep. He's evil. And he's always so quiet…"
"Wow, look at us. We're getting all ruffled up over a Pidgey," the Staravia said. "This is actually a little bit sad. He's the one who should be scared of us."
"What happened to Master Karow?" The Pidgey said. "Is he okay? It wasn't too bad, was it?"
"I saw the whole thing," the Taillow said. "I was in there with Master Karow, and I was watching the catmatch he was having with Otto, Master Karow won, boom. Pulled a fairy glide over the top, got him in the tail feathers. Otto kept fighting like he didn't know he lost. And he just kept going. Knocked the old man onto the ground, kept mobbing him… He just wouldn't stop! I was too afraid to help, but I couldn't stop watching."
The group collectively shuddered at the Taillow's description.
"Wow," the Pidgey said, ruffling his feathers. "That kid needs help."
Preceded by an infuriated screech, an elderly Honchkrow half-tumbled, half-flew down from the training chamber portal. The birds' breaths were taken away at the sight: the old crow was missing many feathers, and patches of exposed skin were covered in fresh, bloody scratches, the white down beneath his black coat stained with patches of red…
"Master!" the Spearow cried. "Master, you're hurt!"
"Leg's broken," the large crow grumbled. "That little wretch broke my leg… And my left wingtip… I… need to see a doctor. Get me a berry. By Lugia, somebody get me a berry. Please."
Without hesitation, the Staravia beat its wings and made for the medicine stock. The other three gathered around their elder and tried to support him, but he angrily batted them away.
"By Lugia… what was he trying to prove?" Master Karow moaned, looking over his injuries and carefully preening out a few of the damaged feathers.
"What's going to happen to him?" the Spearow asked curiously. "Do you think we should throw him out?"
"From the moment I first saw him, ERK!" he yelped, accidentally hitting a raw nerve with his beak. "I never would have let him into the guild. Not even for as much as they're paying us. You can see it in his eyes… he has no sense of authority, no will to obey, no reason to… UUURK! By the blazes, how am I supposed to fly to Boulder Pointe tomorrow like this?… But no… it's not up to me… Syr was the one who let him in… and by the blazes of Moltres, He's going to need to do something about that wretched little demon…"
The Swellow, the Pidgey, and the Spearow were both frozen in awe. They had never seen their most respected leader and trainer so filled with rage, not to mention covered in wounds. They watched as he simply hopped and limped down the hall, fluttering sometimes to gain distance, but having to rest constantly due to his injuries…
Once he was gone, a second bird swooped down from the training hall. It was small and brown, much smaller than the Honchkrow. Its coat of feathers was ruffled and disturbed, but it seemed mostly unharmed.
Its talons and beak were spattered with blood.
The Pidgey landed on the floor and stared the other three birds in the eye… first the Spearow, then the Swellow… both of which shirked back at his glance.
"What's the deal with you?" the Pidgey screeched in his face.
"Otto, what did you do?!" the Spearow yelled. "Are you insane? That was Master Karow! Our team coordinator! He's the one who runs this place! You don't tear his feathers off like he's some kind of wounded prey…"
Otto said nothing. He continued to stare at them as if completely ignoring their words. He lifted a talon to lick it clean of blood.
"You're going to get expelled from the team now," the Swellow said. "You know that, right? Do you care? Otto?"
Ignoring them, the blood-stained Pidgey flew off down the tunnel and out of sight.
"He scares me," the Pidgey said.
"He doesn't even care," the Spearow said. "Look at him. He's probably just going to go take a bath, just like he does every night. He has no idea what just happened. What is he doing here, anyway? He's still wild. After all this, he's still wild. The daycare didn't do their job."
"The daycare did everything they could do," the Swellow said. "Believe me. I asked. They used all the tricks they knew to civilize a Pokémon. And I heard he ate five times his allotment of gummis. For all it's worth, he should have been a normal Pokémon by now."
… … …
That evening, as the wing's members rested in their nesting chambers, it seemed that every bird in the room had an eye on Otto. Word spread quickly of Otto's deed toward the team coordinator, and he quickly became the talk of the entire team even moreso than he was before. Otto perched on his designated ridge and rested, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had lost the trust and respect of everyone in the team. He stood and stared, watching them all, like he would do every night, until his eyelids would seem to close all on their own…
Having an odd inclination, another Pidgey, a slightly smaller and younger one, came to rest on the ridge next to Otto.
"Hey, Otto," the Pidgey said carefully. "Um… I heard about what you did today."
Otto didn't reply.
"I know nobody likes you, but I thought… maybe we could be friends? You could tell me what's bothering you."
Otto briefly glanced at the newcomer, then back to the rest of the room.
"My name's Brace, if you don't remember," the other Pidgey said. "I'm next to you at the meetings a lot. Look… are you okay? Maybe it's just because we're brothers of kin, but I'm worried about you."
Otto glanced at Brace again, and then at the floor.
"Why don't you ever talk?" Brace asked. "Didn't they teach you how to talk when you were at the day care? Why don't you talk?"
Otto looked Brace in the eye, and surprisingly, he opened his beak to speak.
"Nothing to say," Otto managed to squawk out.
"I think you have a lot to say for yourself," Brace said. "You have to talk so that people can understand you. Right now, Otto, nobody understands you. You've only been here for a few weeks, and you already put some birds in the hospital. Why? What bothers you? The team's here to help you!"
Otto paused for a moment. Then, he opened his beak again, not to speak, but in a gesture of hostility. Likewise, he raised his wings above his head. It was a gesture with very clear, primal meaning which every bird knew—Go away, leave me alone, or I will fight.
"Geeze! Fine!" Brace cried in frustration, launching himself into the air and flying away. "Be by yourself, if that's what you want."
Brace returned to his place at the far end of the room. He glared back at Otto for a few moments before pivoting his body and facing away from him. Otto stayed awake for a few more minutes after that, then fell asleep when he couldn't keep his eyelids open.
… … …
The next day, when Otto awoke, he was surprised to see that the roosting chamber was completely empty. There was a call to attention each morning, which he was used to, where he would follow the flock out into the main team chamber for the daily meeting. But this time, it seemed, the rest of the flock was somehow ahead of him.
"Sleep well?"
Otto jumped in fright and turned his head upward. On the ledge just above him stood a massive gray and white raptor, many times his own size. The big bird glared down at him with piercing red eyes, unsetting him a little.
"I sent the wing on a field trip today," the bird said, fluttering down and landing next to Otto. "After you knocked down my best bird, I figured he deserved the day off."
Otto said nothing in reply, but watched the mighty raptor, and prepared himself to flee at a moment's notice.
"My name is Syr," the great bird said. "I am known as a Staraptor, and I am the leader of Team Silverwing, the team that feeds you and gives you quarter. And you… you are Team Ember's recruit. When you were first brought before me, I had very high hopes for you. You looked strong and capable enough to become a good bird. And such an unparalleled ferocity… Indeed, for such a legendary team as Char's, I knew from the moment I first met you that you would be perfect addition to our team, and theirs."
Otto tilted his head, but said nothing.
"But," the great Staraptor said, "It appears as though I was wrong."
Feeling uncomfortable with the Staraptor's proximity, Otto fluttered away and set himself down on the opposite side of the room, still watching Syr intensely.
"My friend Karow has lost his faith in you," Syr sighed, wondering how much of what he said was making sense to the little bird. "The rest of the team wants nothing to do with you, either because you frighten them, or because they simply don't care. Yet… this means nothing to you, does it? But I… I do not intend to give up on you. If I did, it would mean giving up on Char and his team, Scythe and his team, and ultimately the division itself. So… while I am usually not one to train recruits, I would like to spend some time with you today. I want to understand you, so that I may help you. I want to know who you are."
Otto began to preen his itching feathers, listening indifferently to the team leader as he continued to speak.
"But, apparently you do not want to tell me who you are," Syr said thoughtfully. "Maybe you don't want me to understand you. Maybe you don't think it's important enough to care. But, as they like to say, actions speak louder than words. And if there's something you have shown us that you can do, Otto, you can act. So… if you will not tell me who you are, I want you to show me. Take your time… make sure your feathers are all clean… I can wait. We have all day."
… … …
And then, as soon as noon had passed and Syr had fed Otto with his daily allotment of gummis and seeds, he led the little bird to the training chamber.
The training chamber was the most spacious chamber of Team Silverwing's lair. The center of the room boasted an extremely high ceiling and completely unobscured airspace, a perfect place to practice complex flight maneuvers. But the perimeter of the room was lined with pillars, crossbeams, fences, winding tunnels through the walls… obstacles of every sort, representing any complicated situation a bird in flight might encounter. It was a room used frequently by all the team's members… with the exception of Syr, who was not in the habit of working closely with the Team's members.
Otto and Syr stood face-to-face in the center of the room, Otto with a blank stare on his face.
"I have commanded many birds to battle in my time," Syr said, beginning to pace around Otto. "Every bird has its strengths. Pidgeot have the strongest wings of any bird. Fearow boast the strongest and deadliest talons and beaks. Staraptor like myself are known for their excellent sense of sight, and their undying perseverance through strain and suffering. Swellow have the lightest frame of any evolved bird, and thus are usually the fastest and most agile. Honchkrow are weaker in several areas, but possess the capacity to command dark power offensively, as well as psychic power, and can learn an entire range of specialized attacks, something that other birds can only dream of…"
Syr circled closely around Otto, carefully inspecting his form.
"But you are different, I see," Syr said. "Your wings are clipped… they are small for your size. You have difficulties flying long distances. And you have the talons and beak of a Pidgeotto. Nature has endowed you with great offensive strength… most likely something you have learned to abuse."
Completing his final circle, Syr stopped directly in front of Otto once more. Mere inches away, he stared into his eyes.
"And… you are a wild," Syr said in a deeper voice. "The wild has raised and trained you. That is all you have known. You do not yet understand why you are here, even though you came here by your own choice. Your instincts and habits serve you well, for the most part, so you see no need to change them… you see, I was also a wild. In some ways which I sometimes consider… I still am."
Otto's expression changed, as if something that Syr said had touched him on a deeper level than normal. He seemed captivated by the Staraptor's looming presence.
"To understand you, then, I must speak the only language you truly understand… the language of the wild!"
Syr opened his mighty wings and parted his beak, signaling that he wished to duel…
Otto reacted instantaneously, launching himself nearly straight up and then swooping at his opponent from an unexpected angle. Syr assumed the attack would fail to factor his own momentum as he rose into the air, but to his surprise, it struck… Syr witnessed a flash of redness replace his vision, followed by a searing pain across his forehead.
"Ahh, a well-executed hook dive," Syr proclaimed as he flapped to recover from the first hit. "But I am an old bird. You were ready before I expected you to be. But now that I am ready, how will you do?"
After waiting patiently for his instructor to finish speaking, Otto circled around for a second attack. Sensing an opening, he swooped low and zigzagged around to throw off his opponent's expectations before launching himself at a high speed straight at the raptor's underbelly. Syr dodged, but Otto predicted the move and deftly swerved toward him, plunging his small talons into the raptor's chest and raking them forward before breaking off and escaping.
Syr grunted. The attack had connected with feathers, and went no deeper.
I will learn nothing if I simply take damage, Syr told himself. What I need to do is see how he reacts to defeat. That's when his true character will rise to the surface…
Syr propelled himself quickly, taking the offensive. But Otto was small and fast, rapidly darting in circles just beyond his range of attack. He focused, letting his hunter's instinct detect a subtle pattern in his attacker's movements, and found one. Not hesitating, he banked sideways and dropped into a steep dive to gain extra distance… sending Otto tumbling through the air off the brunt of his wing. Otto screeched in protest.
Surprisingly, in the course of just a few moments, Otto had recovered and was once again in pursuit of his target, circling around him and waiting for a vulnerability to present itself. The same pattern coming to his attention, Syr banked and dived just as he did before…
But to his shock, he felt a pointed beak slam him in the chest. Pain flashed before his eyes again, and he found himself falling backwards towards the ground far below.
He learns, Syr realized.
Otto swooped down fast, his spiked talons aimed directly at Syr's neck. Syr pivoted and righted himself, quickly dodging the impending attack. But then, he thought quickly and pivoted again, striking Otto in the wing and throwing him off-course, foiling his attempt to change his aim at the last moment.
But so do I! Syr said to himself.
Otto darted away, but Syr followed his form quickly and tracked him. Pushing forward faster and faster, slicing the air with his wings just right to preserve his speed, he gained distance on the agile little bird. As he came closer, Otto started trying to throw him off with unexpected swerves and pauses in his flight path… none of which had much effect. Syr followed him closely, preparing to capture him in his front talons and detain him.
…But Otto was far from done. He escaped to the far end of the room, diving behind the cover of the pillars, swooping over and under several horizontal beams and other obstacles which hung in the air. Syr, being a larger bird, had to fly much more carefully; he lost ground on his target who disappeared into the maze of obstructions soon after.
"Smart," Syr called, banking out of the obstructed airspace. "But you aren't accomplishing anything if you just hide from me. You have to fight!"
Syr lazily flew around in a small loop, waiting for Otto to re-emerge, hoping that his predictable flight pattern would tempt him. Sure enough, Otto darted out from the maze, but Syr was ready. He positioned himself in midair and flapped his wings powerfully, creating a strong current of wind that engulfed the little Pidgey before he even had a chance to close the distance for an attack, sending him careening backward into a stone pillar. As soon as the wind died down, Otto peeled himself off and retreated once more into the cover of the maze.
He has an advantage in there, Syr told himself. He can out-maneuver me. But I can out-last him.
Thus, Syr made the decision to enter the maze and chase him. As soon as he saw a brown flash between pillars out of the corner of his eye, he made a quick calculation of his opponent's future position, and propelled himself in.
What resulted was a very long, tiring chase. With so many corners to turn and collisions to avoid, Otto did not have the particular advantage of flying in an unpredictable manner. Occasionally he took an unexpected turn, but Syr kept a careful eye on the Pidgey's tail feathers and eventually grew to expect how he would act in most given circumstances. Thus, he slowly but steadily closed the distance to him…
As they made a complete lap around the perimeter of the training room, Otto was starting to slow down. Syr knew, with his smaller-than-average wings, that they were starting to burn, while he could easily fly for another several hours without having to rest. So, he kept up the chase, noting how the Pidgey took nearly the same path through the aerial rubble as he did the first time…
Now… Syr told himself, it is time for this to end, so that I can proceed with Otto's lessons. It is time for him to accept defeat.
As Syr flew, he touched upon a stream of internal energy which seemingly flowed from his rapidly pounding.
It was his favored technique, one which he had learned while in the wild and carried with him for all his life. He didn't know how it worked, exactly; he just knew that he had to charge it, causing his body to be consumed in a flame-like aura of redness… and when it was ready, all he'd need would be a clear shot at the target… the energy would propel him forward and do the rest.
On the second lap, he knew just where his window of opportunity would be. Otto would opt for a long, curved tunnel… and if he could just maneuver correctly, he could use it to his advantage…
Not seeming to take any notice that the predator which chased him now resembled a flaming fireball, Otto dove between two pillars and banked a hard right, shooting down the tunnel just as Syr had predicted.
That's when Syr unleashed his energy. His bright aura of energy became blue, propelling him forward through the tunnel at an incredible speed, far faster than he was capable of flying himself… And with a left, a right, a hard left, and a difficult bank straight up, he channeled himself through the tunnel just right, gaining all the distance he needed on the now-helpless Pidgey…
And then, just as Otto was about to escape the tunnel…
WHAM.
Syr's charged field of energy broke as he slammed beak-first into an inconveniently-placed pillar. Otto flew away.
A moment passed before Syr found he could once again think straight, the brutal pain of the concussion rippling through his head with each heartbeat. He lazily drifted down to the ground, where he stood and waited for the world around him to make sense.
So close, Syr said to himself. But he outmaneuvered me at the very end… Ugh… a good fighter, this one… Ugh… I'm too old for this…
"Errrrrrrk!" Syr moaned in pain, teetering on one talon when he realized he was about to collapse to the ground.
What happened next was something he would have never seen coming.
As his vision regained its focus, he caught sight of Otto approaching fast. Of course, the little bird would fight in a crazed frenzy until the death, or close to it, just as he had done with Karow. But somehow, that wasn't the part which bothered him.
Otto's body was engulfed in a red flame.
"No," Syr mouthed. "No. That's not possible. How could that… be possible?"
The red flame burst, and Otto's body was suddenly surrounded in a field of ice-like energy.
Syr did not attempt to dodge. He didn't see the point.
As soon as the attack struck, reality became a blur to Syr, and the next thing he knew, he was lying somewhere… he had no idea where… sprawled out across floor of the training chamber.
SLASH.
How did he know that technique? Syr's thoughts looped. That wasn't supposed to be possible. How'd he know? How?
SLASH.
I was beaten by a Pidgey… I'm too old… I'm…
SLASH.
As Syr's consciousness finally began to return to him, the horrible realization dawned on him that Otto was not yet done. The little bird hovered just above his fallen form, continuously striking at him… Again and again, Otto raked his talons across the Starraptor's crumpled form, each time tearing out more flesh and feathers…
"EEEEEEEEEKE!" Otto cried triumphantly.
"Otto… stop," Syr pleaded.
SLASH.
Otto didn't seem to listen. He swooped again, putting a gash in Syr's thigh.
"OTTO!" Syr cried. "This is enough! Let me go!"
SLASH.
Syr was beyond pain. But such a situation, he knew, was the greatest strength of his species; he could endure pain and abuse far beyond what most other Pokémon species could handle... so he continued to plead…
"Otto…" Syr pleaded again. "If you don't stop… I think… you will… regret… yourself…"
SLASH…
Fine, Syr said. Don't stop. If that is your choice…
Out of nowhere, the entire training chamber was flooded with a brilliant white light. Otto found himself blasted backward by an unimaginable, incomprehensible force; a force he had never encountered in his life.
CRASH.
The strength of Syr's Hyper Beam cut through the air, tearing down at least two of the stone pillars at the opposite end of the room which collapsed to the floor with a mighty crash. Otto fell out of the air and plopped to the ground, completely spent.
… … …
A minute later, Syr lifted himself from the ground. Inspecting himself, he found his injuries to be, contrary to what he had believed in the heat of the battle, relatively mild. As soon as his heartbeat slowed and he was able to think straight, he found himself to still be rather strong and capable of sustaining himself. It was not nearly as bad as what happened with Karow, who'd approached him with body parts practically hanging by threads.
Otto was another story.
Syr crossed the room on foot, approaching the place where the little Pidgey was laying on the floor like a little lump of feathers. He was still awake, surprisingly, but he had no will to move. He was done.
"So," Syr said. "This is what you were looking for all along? You wanted to lose in a fair fight, rather than one with silly races or rules about touching tail feathers to win? There. You have it. You have lost, fair and square."
Syr took a step closer. Otto squeaked in pain, watching his every move.
"I understand the way your mind works," Syr said. "In a way, I always have. You are wild, and that is all you know. You are not stupid. No, on the contrary, you are intelligent. Perhaps too intelligent. Especially after hearing about the mountains of gummis you consumed down there in the center, I can't bring myself to believe that you are a stupid bird. No… in fact… I believe that you are a genius."
Syr stepped even closer, bending down to face Otto's cringing, pain-filled face in the eyes.
"When I was a hatchling, like you," Syr said, "They took me from my home in the wild and brought me here, and trained me to be a civilized bird. But as they trained me, I couldn't take it. I thought it all to be a lie. That's all I saw. A lie. A terrible, convoluted lie to cover up the rules of the wild, the rules which I had lived by up until then. For a long time, I saw through the lie… It's been so long, but there came a point where I began to accept the lie as truth, and I don't remember why…"
Syr lifted his right talon and placed it gently on Otto's chest.
"And you, in all your little brilliance…" he grumbled with force, "you see through the lie. You refuse to accept it. So, you continue to live by the rules of the wild. The rules of pride. The rules of survival. We have not yet given you reason to care. Well… now is the time, little Otto. Now, it is time for you to choose: what is the lie, and what is real?"
Syr brutally forced his talon down upon Otto's stomach until it pierced his flesh.
"KEEEEEEEEE!" Otto squealed in agony.
"If you wish to live by the rules of the wild, then so will I," Syr proclaimed. "If you wish to beat upon a fallen ally because they have hurt your sensitive pride, then so will I."
"KEEEEEEYAAAAAAAAAH!" Otto squealed again as Syr brought his weight down upon his lower legs.
"If you wish to believe that the victor makes the rules, and the victim suffers by them, so be it," Syr yelled louder. "I am a wild, just like you. I can live by those rules. But what do you say now, little bird? How do you like it when I am the victor, and you are the victim?"
"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
After adding several fresh wounds to Otto's body, Syr simply backed away. Otto writhed on the floor.
After a second, Otto almost looked surprised at the fact that Syr was not continuing to inflict pain. Instead, he simply stared down at the incapacitated little Pidgey, as if waiting for it to make a move…
"Well?" Syr asked calmly. "Do you have anything to say?"
Otto did not respond.
"Fine," Syr said. "In that case…"
Syr rose a wing into the air, as if to beckon to some unseen presence. Immediately, another bird, a large, black-feathered form, approached and landed by Otto's side. It was Karow.
"You once lived in the wild," Syr said, "But no longer. Now, you live in civilization. And in civilization, The birds of a flock are there to help one another. We teach you to fight, not so you can preserve your pride, but because it is needed for the flock to survive. Your allies are one with you. Your strength is theirs, and their strength is yours. Their pride is also yours."
Otto cringed when Karow positioned his talon straight over his face, but no further harm came. Instead, a tiny item dropped from his clutch… an Oran Berry.
"See," Syr said, "how the one you have harmed yesterday has forgiven you, and does not desire revenge. Instead, he wishes for you to be stronger. And see how you have also harmed me, but I… I wish the same."
Otto looked baffled. He looked at the Oran Berry, then at Karow, then back at the berry…
"Do you think it will mean anything to him?" Karow asked skeptically.
"Yes," Syr said. "He learns."
Otto pecked at the berry and picked it up in his beak. Unable to fit it in his mouth, he bit off a chunk and dropped the rest to the floor.
"Now, Otto," Syr said, "What I offer you is a place among my flock. A place where we do not live by the rules of the wild, but by the strength of brotherhood. You must accept our rules if you wish to live here. After all, you were not placed here against your will. You came here by your own decision, and it's a decision you can't just change. So, join our flock. Help us, and we will help you. Fly with us, and we will make sure that someday, you can be called a good bird. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Otto answered.
"Well, then," Syr said. "If you desire it, my flock will teach you the avian arts. Do you want us to teach you? Do you want us to help you?"
"Teach me," Otto replied. "Help me."