OWEN’S POV

 

My subconscious was not kind to me that night.

How many times did I wake, my eyes bulging out of their sockets, staring up at the ceiling and praying for it to be over? How many times did I go under again, worn out from the sheer exhaustion that the previous day had produced?

During each of these brief periods of wakefulness, I pleaded with the universe to let me stay awake. The reason for this was quite simple: If I remained awake, I wouldn’t be asleep, and if I didn’t sleep, I wouldn’t dream.

More than once, I felt my body ripped limb from limb. I gritted my teeth together, constantly shouting at my brain to make it stop. 

“Stop!” I yelled. “Please just let this end!”

But my brain would not comply with my demands. If anything, it was determined to continue the torment of Owen Tendai, no matter how much he pleaded for it to be over.

I was whipped multiple times, kicked and punched and beaten to what must have been nearly a pulp. Then I heard something shake, like one of those condiment shakers they have at restaurant tables.

Oh no…is that what I think it is?

It’s worth noting that in these dreams, I couldn’t see anything. Perhaps this was since it was a dream, or maybe my eyes had been forcefully gouged out by whatever creature was currently tormenting me in an unrelenting fashion.

And then my wounds burned anew, and that’s when I realized that salt had indeed been poured onto them. And, well, almost everyone has heard the saying “salt in the wound”, and equally many people know just how true it is.

Salt was poured on my chest, on the stumps of my limbs, in my eye sockets. Surely I would have bled to death by now if my body had taken this much punishment.

No. It’s just a dream, Owen. It’s just a dream. Soon you’ll wake up and it’ll be all over.

But that was hardly comforting - after all, try as I might to wake up, I just couldn’t.

The torture continued, and more than once I found myself shouting: Do it to Matty! Do it to Matty!

And then the “voice” in the dream asked this question: Are you sure?

Whatever you want! Just make it end, please!

I sat bolt upright in bed, feeling yet another ache on my backside. My eyes watering, I turned over to find that…

A Lucario was staring directly at me.

“Oh, uh…hello” I mumbled with a grimace.

“You know, Owen, if you’re going to toss and turn all night, if you’re going to thrash violently about on your bedsheets, I would like a memo beforehand.”

He knows my name. Of course he does. Maybe I said it in the dream, or maybe…

“Right,” I mouthed. “Sorry about that, Cassius.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” the Lucario enquired, gingerly stepping out of bed.

I narrowed my eyes. “How did you know?”

“With all due respect, Owen, you don’t have a very good poker face. And part of it isn’t even that, either - I can tell when someone’s having a bad dream, because I just can. Kept me up all night, you did.”

I glared at Cassius. “I said I was sorry.”

“Apology accepted” Cassius responded, sitting on his bed so that he was facing me. “You know, Owen…we all have nightmares here. I guess it’s just a symptom of being a Pokémon. Join the club.”

“Huh.”

“You also talked in your sleep” Cassius remarked. “Like, a lot.”

My stomach soured, and my face blushed. “How much…how much did you hear?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“Every word,” the Lucario replied casually. “I heard every word of it.”

By now I was ready to hurl, or faint, or maybe both. “You heard…everything?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“But like…what were the specifics of it?” I wondered aloud, still not sure that I even wanted to know. It was as though Cassius had read my mind, learned about everything that mattered to me, and then zipped my brain shut. And now he had so much leverage over me, it wasn’t even funny.

Cassius shuffled awkwardly on his bed, and then I got another glimpse of his tattoo. It was a Latin phrase I didn’t recognize. Omnia mea mecum porto.

“Well, you yelled something about make it stop and not the eyes.”

I scratched the back of my neck with my rear paw, grimacing as I did so. “Guilty as charged.”

The Lucario’s scarlet eyes glinted with fear as he replied thusly:
“Owen, did you…did you dream of torture?”

“I don’t know what I was dreaming about” I said simply, which was true. The interpretation of my nightmare was still very much up in the air, and honestly, I didn’t feel comfortable talking about it any further.

Eager to change the subject, I asked Cassius what his tattoo said.

“Oh, this?” the Lucario replied, gesturing at his chest spike. “It says Omnia mea mecum porto, which is a Latin phrase.”

“I know that” I said curtly. “But what does it mean?”

“All that is mine, I carry with me” Cassius responded with a humorless snort. “Pretty badass if I do say so myself.”

“That does sound badass.”

“But back to your nightmare,” Cassius continued, “what did you see in it?”

“Nothing,” I admitted.

The Lucario frowned. “It didn’t sound like it was nothing.”

“Fine. I didn’t see anything in the dream - it was all audio.”

“If it was only sounds you heard,” Cassius asked, “why did it sound like you were being tortured? Other than claws on a chalkboard, there aren’t many sounds that would induce that level of physical pain in the one who hears it.”

It was more than just sound, though.

“In any case,” the Lucario continued, “there’s one other thing I remember you saying.”

Oh no. 

It was then that I knew this conversation was a veritable minefield for me. If I made one wrong step, I would likely get blown to smithereens.

“You told your dream - whoever was torturing you - to do it to Matty.”

I stiffened up. “I guess I did.”

Cassius raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Matty?”

He came here with me, but I can’t tell you that.

“Uh…” I began. “He was the name of the other person in my dream. It’s not important - he just so happened to be named Matty.”

“Uh-huh” Cassius responded blankly. Now, I’m not an expert on body language (you can blame my condition for that), but I felt pretty sure that he didn’t remotely buy what I was selling him.

“Yep” I said curtly. “That’s it. His name was Matty.”

The Lucario glared at me, and I realized that I was digging a deeper grave for myself. (Quite frankly, that was an apt analogy, considering what sort of world this was.)

“We should get ready for the day,” Cassius stated simply, probably eager to steer the ship of this conversation out of these treacherous waters. For this, at least, I was grateful.

“What are we doing today?” I wondered aloud. “We don’t have the service, right?”

“Correct,” Cassius replied. “Instead we get to see Father Labrador in a completely different element.”

“What element would that be? Hydrogen? Helium?”

I was trying for a joke, but Cassius didn’t seem to find it funny. He gave me yet another glare and said the following:

“I mean that he’ll be in the ring today. The battling ring, you know?”

“Right” I muttered, realizing that I may have just betrayed my own ignorance yet again. No, ignorance is the wrong word - “lack of belonging” might be more appropriate. “So you guys do battles down here?”

“Some would say that that’s in our nature as Pokémon” Cassius responded with a shrug. “We are meant to fight one another, whether it’s playful or not.”

I gasped. “Oh Arceus - is it for fun?”

“Well, to the extent that satisfying your inner needs can be considered fun, then yes” my roommate muttered. “But the fights don’t end when one combatant concedes.”

He let those words hang in the air for a solid ten seconds, letting me process precisely what he was saying. Then…

“So they beat each other to a pulp?” I asked, hoping that I was wrong.

To my relief, Cassius shook his head. “Not to that extent. But one combatant must be unconscious for the battle to end. Otherwise,” he continued with a wink, “it can hardly be considered a battle, can it?”

I couldn’t betray too much consternation about this, or else I’d look very suspicious. Instead, I simply sighed. “Fair enough. I’m hungry.”

“We’ve got some food downstairs,” Cassius responded. “It’s not much, but it’s what we have, so you’d better be grateful for it.”

“Oh, I am” I replied, my stomach growling audibly to prove the point.

As both of us stood up from our beds (I had to jump off mine, since I was a lot shorter than Cassius), another thought occurred to me. For obvious reasons, I did not share this one with my roommate.

In that horrifying vision that I’d lied about, I’d demanded my faceless captors to stop torturing me. That was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask, but there were other words I’d used that made me shiver. Words, moreover, that I could still scarcely believe I’d heard myself utter.

Do it to Matty!

Considering that the dream wasn’t real, per se, I probably shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over it. But the fact remained that, even if I were asleep, I’d betrayed my brother all over again.

And that part was real.

(Insert a horizontal line here)

 

I’d never before eaten a meal with the “full crew” at the guild hall, and what I saw surprised me.

The Pokémon all around me came from a variety of different species, and they existed in a rainbow of colors. However, and I couldn’t quite put my paw on why I felt this way, the other Pokémon seemed to all have fur that was somewhat muted in tone.

Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a mirror since I got here. Maybe that’s true for me as well.

If so, it at least made sense. Without any exposure the sun, one could quickly become very pale, and that was doubly true if it was as dark outside as it was in Ketchum.

Anyway, I sat at one end of the long, narrow table, with Alana and Cassius on either side of me. Theseus sat on the far end so that he faced me, though we were a long ways apart from one another.

“Everybody, I would like a standing ovation for our newest member!” Theseus bellowed. “Give it up for Owen Shinx!”

The others all cheered for me, and most of them got up off the bench and clapped their paws together. The only exception were those still in high chairs. (And yes, there were Pokémon that young at the guild hall, which raised a multitude of questions.)

Actually, my last name is Tendai. Of course, I didn’t dare correct them, and only partly because it would be rude to argue with the Pokémon giving me a standing ovation.

“Now, everybody,” Theseus continued, “after breakfast today, we’ll go watch the fight in the main square, which is between Father Labrador and Ziggy Golem!” 

“Ziggy?” I whispered in Cassius’ ear. “The same Ziggy who served us at his restaurant yesterday?”

The Lucario nodded. ‘That’s him. Now, shut up and let’s listen.’

“Right.”

“Now, the odds are three-to-one against Father Labrador!” the Umbreon boomed, and I suddenly wondered if he was using some magical power to magnify his voice. “That means that if you bet on our priest, and he wins, you will receive three times the money you bet! If you bet on Ziggy Golem - and I love Ziggy, but come on, we all want underdogs to win - you’ll only receive a third of what you bet as profit! And that’s if he wins, of course!”

Wow, are we really gambling here? Aren’t a lot of these Pokémon under 18? But then, I guess things might be different in Ketchum.

“So we’re going to walk down Pennsylvania Avenue, and we’ll watch Father Labrador give Ziggy Golem hell, you hear me?”

There was a roar of applause, and I found myself actually contributing to it. There’s something about being in a community where so many members are so passionate about something that makes you excited about that very thing as well. Even if it’s something you aren’t used to viewing as a sport.

I felt an elbow nudge me in my left side. “Yes?” I began, feeling my eyes water.

A Krookodile swiveled to face me. “Are you going to bet big on the match?”

“I’m not a gambler,” I muttered. “This isn’t Vegas.”

The Krookodile jabbed me again in the side, and I fell off the bench, landing hard on my tail. The pain was not as severe as being tortured had been in my dream, but it wasn’t far off.

“What did you say about Vegas?” 

“Uh…” I mumbled. I’m in deep shit.

“Why would you mention it? I don’t know what the rules were where you came from, but here we do not speak of such places!”

‘I don’t agree with his tactics, you know, but he’s right’ I heard Cassius’ aura say to me. ‘Human cities are taboo topics in Ketchum.’

“Uh…sorry” I moaned, trying to get my breath back. “Sorry about that.”

“I don’t know what came over you,” the Krookodile muttered, “but I will begrudgingly accept your apology. Maybe you’re new here, and you didn’t know any better. That is forgivable.”

It’s odd that he forgave me so quickly after knocking me off the bench. But then again, stranger things have happened in the last few days.

With a slight gulp, I stood back onto my four paws. Man, I’d probably never get used to this, but it’s just the way life was going to be from here on out. (Or at least, for the foreseeable future; what would it even take to become human again?)

A few minutes later, it was time to go. 

“The arena is at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue” Theseus muttered. “You all know where that is.”

“Except me” I corrected him sheepishly.

“Right,” the Umbreon replied. “Follow us, then.”

The trek into the valley and through the city of Ketchum was a blur. At various times we passed by what looked like an adult film store (which didn’t interest me) and what looked (and smelled) like a crematorium. I’m pretty sure those businesses were just two stores apart, too, with a landscaping business in between. There were also carpet shops next to pharmacies, a bookstore adjacent to a restaurant, which was next to what looked like a gym of sorts.

In other words, this place was a fever dream. Nothing about the city’s urban planning made sense, not that I was an expert on that subject. 

For most of the walk, I was just blindly following the crowd. I could not have told you how many twists and turns were in the route we took, though soon enough, we reached what looked like one of the bigger squares in the city.

“Here we are,” Theseus stated. Turning to me, he said: “This is the place where you’ll place your bet. And you know what they say: May the odds be ever in your favor.”

I snorted. “Where have I heard that one before?”

Cassius gave me a dirty look, so I dropped the subject. In any case, I realized something else.

“I don’t have any Poké on me” I mumbled.

The Krookodile frowned, stomping one of his foot paws. “No money?”

I nodded. 

“Why is that?”

I felt my face grow hot as I snapped back at the Krookodile thusly: “I just didn’t bring any with me!”

“Hey, be nice, Owen,” Alana commanded me. 

“I am. This Krookodile - “.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Well, excuse me, but you never bothered to tell me your name,” I retorted. “More importantly, I don’t have any cash, so I guess I can’t bet.”

“I’ll give you some of my own,” Theseus told me. “You’ll be betting with house money this first time. That’ll make it less daunting to start out, hopefully.”

I grimaced. “You know, I’m not much of a gambler. But…”.

“You’re here right now” the Umbreon replied, finishing the sentence for me. “There’s an old saying, which I don’t really like since it mentions a human city, but I’ll adapt it for here: When in Ketchum, do as the Ketchumites do.”

“Right” I acknowledged, having heard that saying before and realizing that in order to blend in, it would really be better if I played along with my new companions. Besides, if I was indeed betting with house money, what was the harm?

The battling ring was about ten meters in diameter, a near-perfect circle with a dirt surface. Part of me wondered what it would be like if it rained. (Actually, I didn’t really have to wonder, both because I knew what created mud, and also because this place was probably never exposed to the weather on the surface.)

“Well, when’s the fight going to start?” I wondered aloud. I didn’t see either combatant in the ring.

“Just be patient, okay?” Alana murmured. “After all, as the Book of Catastrophes tells us, patience is a virtue, and the one who cannot wait for what one wants is bound to be disappointed.”

“Whatever” I whispered, certain nobody else would hear me.

Alana gave me a glare, signaling that she had in fact heard my whisper. And that’s when I realized once more that I had to be very careful what I said down here. 

A few minutes later, a lion-like figure - a Pyroar - came lumbering down the street. He was not dressed in the solemn cloak he’d worn while delivering his sermon. Indeed, no clothing whatsoever adorned his large body. (Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen many of the Ketchumites wearing clothes, nor had I worn any myself. Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken much adjustment for me to get used to streaking everywhere.)

It was indeed Father Labrador, having dispensed with the persona he displayed at church. His eyes displayed a playful type of fury, like he was ready for a brutal fight, but knew it was all in good fun at the end of the day.

On the other side of the arena, a Golem - Ziggy Golem - made his way toward the circle. Unlike the priest, Ziggy’s demeanor wasn’t lighthearted in the least.

“Is he actually going to…hurt Father Labrador?” I wondered aloud, trying to keep the fear out of my voice as much as possible.

The Krookodile laughed dryly. “Who cares?”

Cassius gave the Krookodile a rather odd expression, then turned to me. “There won’t be any lasting damage from the fight,” the Lucario informed me. “At least, it’s pretty rare for that to happen.”

“But it can happen?”

“Look, at some point,” Theseus replied, “safety is just pure waste. If you want to be safe, just don’t get out of bed in the morning. You can stay in your room all the time if you want, but you’d miss out on anything fun. Life is a game of calculated risk.”

“But who’s the referee?” I enquired. “Who’s going to make sure that…?”

I didn’t need to finish that question, but my intention was clear: Who’s going to make sure that nobody dies?

Right on cue, a tall Pokémon, skinny yet muscular, appeared seemingly out of thin air. Perhaps he actually had the power to teleport and was making use of it.

“Hello, everyone!” the Pokémon, a Blaziken, exclaimed with a clap that resonated like a roll of thunder. “My name is Darren Blaziken, and I’m the commentator for this fight! Indeed, I provide commentary on every fight, so that’s not a surprise!”

Darren laughed a bit at his own “joke.” Then, he got serious.

“Please turn in your bets,” he stated, “and specify which fighter you are betting on. Recall that the odds are 3 to 1 against Father Labrador, so bet accordingly.”

Theseus handed me a couple banknotes, which I assumed was whatever passed for currency down here. And I handed them to Darren.

“Who are you betting on?” the Blaziken enquired.

“Uh…” I mouthed, realizing that I hadn’t given this question much thought. But I would have to decide soon, because the others were bound to grow impatient if I didn’t.

“Please decide,” Darren muttered.

“I’ll bet on Father Labrador” I blurted out. “I like underdogs.”

“Very well. It seems like lots of people are betting on Father Labrador, which means that I’ll either make or lose a lot of money today.”

Once everyone had finished turning in their bets, Darren clapped three times.

“Listen up, all of you!” he bellowed cheerfully. “On this day, we find ourselves gathered here for a fight! In one corner, we have Ziggy Golem, owner of Starman’s Lounge in the Pub District, who is the favored one in this matchup! In the other corner, we have Father Labrador, preacher to the outsiders, the underdogs, and he represents the underdogs in this fight!”

There seemed to be considerably more applause for Father Labrador, though it was hard to tell from my perspective. It just sounded like a lot of Pokémon screaming at the top of their lungs at the matchup they’d been waiting for all morning.

I stood on my tiptoes in an effort to get a better view of the fight.

Don’t do that, Owen, I thought. If you do, it’s only going to freak you out.

“Combatants, please shake paws.”

Ziggy and Father Labrador complied with Darren’s command, though they did so quite begrudgingly. Whatever the case may be, it was clear that they’d put any friendship they might have harbored with one another side, at least for the duration of this fight.

“Okay. I’ll count both of you in, and if either of you attack prematurely, you will be disqualified! Are you both ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” Father Labrador bellowed, stomping the dirt ground with one of his front paws.

“You bet!” Ziggy exclaimed, licking his lips and swaying slightly from side to side.

“Then on your mark…get set…three, two, one, fight!”

The pair of combatants circled the arena for a solid minute before any action occurred. According to Darren, this was normal.

“Ah, yes, the paradox of the strongest ‘mon” the referee stated. “Named as such because we couldn’t think of anything better to call it.”

After a few chuckles from the crowd, and more of the same in the arena, Darren clarified: “One might expect that a fight between two of the strongest Pokémon in Ketchum would contain plenty of action, but in fact, they often start off slow like this!”

“Shut up!” Ziggy exclaimed. “I’m trying to concentrate!”

“Right, my bad,” Darren said. “In any case, Ziggy Golem with a bit of shade for me!”

I couldn’t help but bounce up and down as though I were on a trampoline. My excitement might have been derived from the group setting, but that did not mean it wasn’t real.

“So?” Father Labrador grunted. “Are you going to do anything?”

In response, Ziggy licked his lips. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

The Pyroar snorted. “Stop toying with me. If you’re going to fight, act like it.”

“That’s well within the rules, you know” the Golem hissed. “Besides, you should be careful what you wish for.”

There was more of the circling, both combatants walking sideways around the perimeter of the arena. For a moment, I wondered if we were heading for a stalemate.

But then Ziggy lunged at Father Labrador, curling into a ball and nearly knocking the Pyroar off his feet like a bowling pin. The crowd went wild, but that was nothing compared to what happened next.

Father Labrador was able to stay standing, using his front paws to arrest the “bowling ball” that was Ziggy Golem. Then, using what must have been much of his strength, the Pyroar grabbed Ziggy by the tail and began swinging him around! 

“Wow!” I exclaimed. “It’s like he’s Super ‘Mon!”

Cassius glared at me, and I realized that I’d almost forgotten where I was. They did not like comic book references here, no siree.

Ziggy’s mouth hung wide open, and as strong as the Golem was, I knew that he wouldn’t be able to wriggle free of Father Labrador’s grasp easily. And that’s when I realized that Father Labrador was using his jaw to hold the Golem in the air!

“Oh my Arceus!” Alana exclaimed. “He’s got Ziggy in his teeth!”

“There’s no way he can keep it up that long” Theseus stated morosely. “Looks like I’m going to lose a lot of money.”

Darren was almost speechless, but he managed to get a few words in nonetheless.

“Ladies and gentle ‘mon, Father Labrador is using strength very few Pokémon possess. He’s taking Ziggy Golem for a ride, folks, and who knows where he’ll end up when that train reaches the station!”

Darren laughed at his own joke, which I personally didn’t find very funny. Hopefully Ziggy didn’t get hurt too badly - hadn’t Cassius implied that there’d probably be no permanent damage?

Now I wasn’t so sure…

Just when it looked like Father Labrador might be able to keep this up indefinitely, the Pyroar tipped his head forward and spat Ziggy out.

The Golem fell to the ground, hard. The count started.

“Ziggy Golem is down! One…two…three…”.

Ziggy stood back to his feet, though his eyes were a bit unfocused. Clearly, he’d gotten his bell rung, even if he was still able to fight.

“Only three seconds!” Darren exclaimed. “Remember, it takes ten to win, so we’re only about thirty percent there! Considering how hard that fall looked, we could be here a while, folks!”

Back on the surface, a fight like this would be over if one combatant seemed as dazed as Ziggy does. I hope this ends without either of them getting seriously hurt…

“The fight continues! Ziggy looked like he was out there! Father Labrador came in with a job to do, but Ziggy Golem will stop at nothing to win!”

But then Ziggy lunged at the Pyroar again. This time, he’d learned from his mistake - he did not curl into the shape of a bowling ball, but rather went out with a Rock Blast. (At least, I thought the move was Rock Blast, given everything I knew about Pokémon battles.)

The explosion was powerful enough to knock Alana off her feet. I had to dig my heels into the stony ground just to keep my footing, the power of the Rock Blast was so vast.

“Ladies and gentle ‘mon, that Rock Blast was quite something!” Darren exclaimed. 

A cloud of dust had formed as a result of the explosion, and I could barely see what was going on in the fight. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear it - indeed, I thought I heard a series of groans coming from a Pyroar.

When the dust settled (literally), I saw Father Labrador off to the side of the arena, clutching his chest with one of his paws. He was plainly in agony, but he wasn’t done yet.

“It looks like Father Labrador is going to feel that in the morning!” Darren shouted. “But make no mistake, I think he’s feeling it right now too!”

“No fucking shit!” I bellowed, but my voice was drowned out by the sounds of those who’d bet on Ziggy. They’d likely be making their money back, and then some. But that paled in comparison to what those Pokémon who’d bet on the Pyroar would be losing.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” was the general outcry from the crowd as the battle seemed to slow down before our eyes. The Rock Blast had taken a lot out of Ziggy, but it was Father Labrador who’d suffered more as a result.

“I’m…hack…not done yet!” the Pyroar moaned before going out swinging with a Fire Fang.

“We have a Fire Fang, everyone!” Darren exclaimed. Had he been in a chair, he probably would have been on the edge of his seat - even he had seemingly thought the fight was over. Well, now he stood corrected - literally.

In response, Ziggy curled into his “bowling ball” position, which neutered the Fire Fang - after all, it’s a lot harder to burn through solid rock than just about any other substance. And there were a few boos from the audience. (It was plain to see, of course, that Father Labrador was more popular than the Golem.)

“A questionable decision by Father Labrador to use a Fire attack against a Rock-type; a Rock-type, moreover, who can curl into a ball on command! Maybe he’s lost it!”

By “lost it”, the Blaziken surely meant that Father Labrador no longer had his mental faculties within his grasp. However, “lost it” soon took on a different meaning, when the Pyroar took a few wobbly steps, then collapsed like a marionette whose strings had snapped.

“And Father Labrador is down!” Darren exclaimed. “One, two, three…”.

Theseus’ face betrayed desperation, as did Alana’s. Quite frankly, the same was true for at least a dozen of the Pokémon around me, and that’s a conservative estimate. (Those are just the faces I saw.)

“Four, five, six, seven…”.

I couldn’t help but join in on the “fun”, clenching my fangs together and hoping against hope that the Pyroar would rise. Ziggy Golem had now returned to his upright form, hopping from side to side in triumph. He could taste victory - if Father Labrador didn’t get up, it was only three seconds away!

“Eight, nine…”.

Father Labrador continued to lie on the ground, moaning quite a lot. Other than that, he seemed to be mostly unconscious. He wasn’t going to get up at the last second, that was for sure.

“Ten!” Darren exclaimed. “Ladies and gentle ‘mon, this fight is over! Ziggy Golem has won, and Father Labrador has lost!”

Don’t ask me why, but it felt a bit inappropriate to be rubbing in that Father Labrador had in fact lost the match when the Pyroar was powerless to respond. He simply laid there, motionless and moaning.

“Let’s bring in the Audino team!” Darren shouted. “Father Labrador needs them, and honestly, Ziggy might too! That was quite a fight!”

The Golem groaned. “I’m fine” he grumbled breathlessly. But he didn’t look it - Ziggy swayed from side to side, and for all I knew, he might collapse at any moment.

“I will kindly ask you all to leave now,” the Blaziken announced, “for the sake of medical confidentiality. You don’t need to see this.”

Darren had a point, of course. I had no desire to watch them put Father Labrador’s possibly-broken body back together again. 

“At the office just off the square,” Darren continued, “those who bet on Ziggy Golem will be able to cash in on their bets. Those who bet on Father Labrador will not get their money back, and you all may leave now. Nothing more must be done here.”

I sighed. Yes, I might have been betting with house money, but I couldn’t claim that I wasn’t disappointed by the outcome of my bet. Not just because I ended up losing money that wasn’t mine, but also because of the visceral satisfaction I would have received had Father Labrador won the match - satisfaction that I’d now been denied.

As we walked away from the ring back toward the guild hall, I heard Cassius whisper something to me in his aura voice.

‘You know, Owen,’ he said, ‘you’ll be expected to take part in some fights too.’

I shivered. “Really?”

‘Of course. It’s Ketchum’s favorite pastime - indeed, all Pokémon battle. It’s in our nature, like I told you over breakfast. And when in Ketchum, you are to do as the Ketchumites do, without exception. It’s for your own good.’

Now, in my human life I wasn’t that muscular, nor was I much of a fighter. The idea of going into a boxing ring and duking it out with an opponent (even for fun) sent shivers down my spine. It wasn’t my idea of fun.

But maybe there was some element of camaraderie to it. Maybe I could derive some pleasure from this pastime somehow, as bizarre as it might have seemed to me.

After all, my life might depend on it.