Elsa Death POV
The trip home took a long time. There was the submarine ride, a drive to the airport, flight to Hammerlocke, and from there a train ride to Wedgehurst, where I’d get off and change tracks to the Crown’s Snowfield line. And after that, a long hike from there to get to the castle at the top of the peak.
All of which was to say I had over a full day to get back home, to try and marshal my thoughts, yet every time I tried, it wrapped back around to a single question: How did I lose? I trained so damn hard and yet, and yet…
Meloeta’s voice taunted me, her ethereal voice haunting my mind. That’s not the only factor but… how can she have another Legendary? Without any sign she ever left! It’s- it’s just so unfair!
I stomped the ground as I exited the station, causing one of the attendants nearby to jump and look at me oddly. The motion caught my attention and I forced myself to calm down. Conceal, don’t feel. I can’t let my emotions show. Not when anything, everything I did was a reflection on the noble House of Death.
Taking in the cool, crisp air, I calmed down, taking a step forward into the frozen wilderness. The deep green of the trees was mostly obscured by the snow, hanging heavily on its branches. The soft, powdery snow sparkled in the early morning light, granting a mystical quality to the woodland.
Abomasnows strode across the icy hill, content by the trees they cared for, except when roused by the carelessness of Mamoswines carelessly charging nearby and into said fauna. The abomasnows would swiftly drive off the offenders. Underneath such titans, Frosmoth and Swinubs shuffled about, uncaring of the squabbles of the larger Pokemon. Everything is safe and easy for them. They don’t have to push themselves or worry about losing it all to some stupid brat-
A few more deep breaths and I was ready to continue, though I didn’t take the path down to Freezington. Everyone there is so cold, metaphorically at least. In terms of actual temperature they were probably fine, but how they behaved towards me was egregious. They just stare, barely say a word in front of me, won’t respond unless I directly ask them a question and even then get only a single word response most times.
Sure, my introduction to them, proclaiming myself as ‘one of noble birth’ likely wasn’t the greatest, but it had been years now! I’m glad Father moved us up to the peak. There was something about that village that always unnerved me. I suspected some specter haunted it, which is why I had our house lined with Dark Stones, and even had them built into the foundations of our newly renovated home.
Freezington was along the way for the smoothest path up the mountains, but it was also a long, circuitous route, around Giant’s Bed, the Old Cemetery, and then around up a long slope to the top. Going through Freezington alone sounds like too much of a hassle today. I’ll take the faster route.
Turning to the steep mountain face, I reached for Glastrier, seeking assistance with the climb, only to hesitate as my finger brushed by his ball. After losing, they’ll be… difficult. I can’t waste energy wrangling them when I need to prepare for the battles ahead.
Moving from the Legendary, I released Frosslass. A stop at a Pokemon center had seen her recover from the battle she’d fought in, but I could see from the slight way she sagged in the air, some exhaustion to her body. Well, this shouldn’t be a very tiring trip, not for her at least. “We shall go home,” I decreed, and my faithful Ghost dipped her head, raising me up the first of many ridges with her fine-tuned telekinesis.
She performed well against Nemona, better than even my high expectations would have placed her strength. I’ve heard of a new Mega evolution discovered for her species; perhaps that would be enough? Even as I wondered that, doubts crept in. The young Champion had Mega Evolution of her own, and utilizing that would mean giving up Terastalization, one of the key tactics I had to get around the weaknesses Ice types possessed.
I was under no illusion of the drawbacks to mono-Type Trainers, and particularly the many weaknesses the Ice Type shared. Yet how can I deny the splendor of this Type? Just looking around, I can see the sheer power in the Crown Tundra, where only the most rugged can survive. As I walked, I spotted a large beartic, growling angrily at the disturbance my passage caused, only to stop as I leveled a look at it. The creature was mighty, easily capable of causing an avalanche that could bury half the mountain, and yet she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance against me.
The Beartic made no steps backwards, having a nest of Cubboos to look after, but she dared not get closer and her growls died down. This is how I should be treated. If only the students at school had half as much sense as Arceus gave wild Pokemon.
I continued my climb, my thoughts shifting from what I might do in the future to combat Nemona’s team, and more on what I might say to Mother and Father. Perhaps they haven’t seen the match yet? No, they will have; I’m the ‘hope and future of the Death line’ there’s no way they wouldn’t have been alerted to my failure yet. But really, how was I supposed to predict another Legendary?
After a few hours, I made my way to the top, cresting the last peak to come across the wide opening that connected my home to Slippery Slope off to the side. On the flattened top sat a magnificent castle, rebuilt with black marble and rising high in the air. It was square shaped, with flat topped towers at all four corners and a spire shooting up from the center, letting one gaze down at not just the Crown Tundra, but all of Galar. It was the most imposing, wondrous thing I had ever seen, as magnificent today as it was the day I first saw it, when Father had it built for me.
I first laid eyes on it after my first year at Blueberry Academy, a reward for my excellence there, and for catching Glastrier in the first place, which had caught Director Cyrano’s attention and earned me an invitation to his school. I’d run into it giddily that day, and Mother had not even reprimanded me for a lack of decorum. Today, I marched in with far more trepidation.
Not before recalling Frosslass and thanking her for her efforts, however. She did well, and helping me with ascending the mountain. I could have utilized my Aura to craft a set of icy stairs up, but such a feat would be tiring, and I needed all my strength for the upcoming conversation.
The large double doors at the entrance were over three times my height, and while not barred, their sheer weight meant I had to push hard to force them open. Creaking forward, an icy chill swept into the large entrance hall ahead of me, cooling it down a little and making me a bit more comfortable. Mother always complains about the cold, but I find the castle still to be a touch too warm for my liking.
The entrance hall was a grand thing, with two main doors to either side, right and left, and two smaller ones in the back, on either side of the massive central staircase that dominated the hall. It split into two separate staircases, leading to the wings on the second floor. A magnificent chandelier hung from the wide, high, arched ceiling above, the crystals glittering softly in the torch light.
Walking forward, I took distant note of the various paintings of my family’s ancestors and their partner Pokemon lining the walls, interspersed with suits of armor to show our noble, chivalric heritage. All of them were supposed to be original pieces worn by the members of the Death family, but I knew for a fact that some of them had proven too difficult to restore or find, lost in various battles, and were instead replaced with mock-ups. Father went to great lengths to make them look as accurate as possible to the originals, and to even greater lengths to make sure that I would never reveal that they’re fakes to any who would come here. As if anyone would come here.
I let out a humorless laugh at that before marching up the stairs. At the end was the large portrait of Daemon Death, the progenitor of our family and a cousin of the King’s, back when Galar still had monarchs. He had the same white hair I had, and seemed to have a sneer on his face even in this portrait, painted of him having one a great battle, as if he was looking down on everyone else. It certainly felt like he was looking down on me, right now.
Twisting to the right, I walked along the west wing before turning and entering the lounge. The space was filled with a number of potted plants, the wooden paneling designed to give it warmth and serve as an open space to mingle and gather. In any other castle it might have led to an open yard, but it was far too cold atop the mountain to have such a thing.
As expected, my parents were waiting within the lounge, both seated at one of the central tables. I walked around the screens, coming to a stop just before them. Neither made any effort to greet me, and from the Rotom Phone on the table, I knew they had seen the results of my fight.
He wore a pristine white suit matching his (dyed) hair, with a spot of color in his red tie, while Mother was wearing a hat with a floral arrangement on top, as well as a fashionable striped pantsuit. Both could see me out of the corner of their eyes, but they gave no indication of noticing me.
“Mother, Father, I have returned,” I announced after a moment. Silence. “I did well, on my tests-”
“Well? Your disgrace has been broadcast across the world, and you call that doing well?” Father interrupted suddenly, his mustache twitching angrily.
I cast my gaze to Mother, hoping desperately for some sort of help, for she could sometimes be kinder to me. I forgot that she could also be crueler, when the mood struck her, and on this day I received nothing but more scorn. She tilted her large hat up to look at me before shaking her head dismissively. “Mere perfection is not something to brag about; it’s the expectation. Or are you nothing more than a Bolthound, begging for treats for performing a trick after shitting indoors?”
“It was just one loss! And- and Nemona’s a Champion and I beat her once-”
“One loss is too many. She’s a child, and that is all the world has seen - you being defeated by a child. And to have won already and then regressed?” My father said, cutting off my excuses lightning fast. “Dissapointing.” He spoke the last word as if it was some unforgivable sin.
I didn’t regress! I was stronger than ever in that fight! Nemona just… got better. She was more proficient in Double Battles, had a surprise Legendary, and I didn’t throw her off her game at the beginning of the fight. None of that was what I said, knowing they’d just rebuff any such explanations.
What I ended up saying wasn’t any better, however. “Why can’t I ever just make a mistake? Everyone else does.” I hear them in the halls, all those students talking carefree about missing a test or breaking something, like it doesn’t matter.
“Because you are a Death,” mother stated imperiously, rising to loom over me beside Father. “You are not like other people, you are better than them, gifted.” Her voice took on a soft, hurt quality to it. “Which is why it disturbs us so when you fail to live up to your potential. To your destiny.”
“Exactly,” Father agreed. “You have the potential to rise up to the highest station, to enact great change for this region, and possibly even the world. But what good will all that potential do if you squander it?”
Right, ‘my destiny.’ Always back to that with them. My parents always had high standards for me, but as I grew older, things had changed. At first it was just pride in how quickly I’d take to certain things, then pride, when they saw my skills as a Pokemon Trainer flourishing at a young age, and then… then I caught Glastrier, and it became an inescapable pressure. A ‘destiny’ they refused to name, but constantly hinted at, implying great things for me. Things unnamed, but with significant glances given to the trappings of our noble heritage.
“I’m not squandering it, I’m still on track for everything. Losing to her doesn’t mean anything-”
“It means everything!” Father shouted, slamming a hand on the table, and I winced. “People have seen you as a loser, and they don’t follow losers! Do you know how much we’ve given up to support you? Day in and day out, your mother networks on your behalf, and I work to maintain proper alliances to pay off our debtors for this, the castle we built for you. But your failures drive everyone of proper standing away.”
I snapped. “You built this for yourself! Nobody comes around because our ‘ancestral lands’ are a frozen wasteland not even the most aristocratic fop over in cities wants to visit! Nobody wants the monarchy back, which is why they stopped me from entering the Gym Circuit to begin with! I’m not the failure here, you ar-”
I stopped a stinging sensation across my cheek silencing me. Blinking, I looked up to see my Father’s hand, and I realized he had just slapped me. “Insolent whelp! How dare you- dare you-” he stuttered as the temperature suddenly dropped, frost creeping across the floor as my Aura broke free of the tight hold I had on it.
“G- get to your room!” Mother stammered. “At once!” I wanted to argue more, but one look at their faces quashed that. They’re looking at me as if I was a monster. Defeated, I slumped, not caring as I dropped my ‘noble posture,’ slinking away to my room.
My room was atop the tower furthest from the heating unit, leaving it nice and cold. The room’s walls were stone and barren, save for ribbons and trophies; father had decreed that the only adornments my room should bear would be my achievements. I had a number of them, from my hard earned skills on the piano and singing, and of course, several for battling. None were on the level of True Championship, but I’d gotten first place in all the minor tournaments I had entered.
I tried to spread them around the room, to hang and cover a bit more space and make the place feel less empty. In the corner sat my large four poster bed, and I dropped on it, staring out the window. Everything looks so peaceful, so serene out there. Why do I even bother with any of this?
It was a nice dream, to imagine abandoning everything and simply existing in the wilderness, where there were no pressures or demanding parents, but I knew it was just a fantasy. There was no way they would let me leave, not after pinning so much hopes on me. Whenever we do meet with some baroness or duke’s family, they constantly praise me, put me on a pedestal for all to see; they simply can’t afford to let me go.
Deep down, I knew I didn’t want to either - less so for my parent’s sake, but to prove I was worthy. That I could match the legacy of my ancestors. Not that anything I do seems to work. I sighed, and Vanilly popped out of his Pokeball, floating towards me, and I leaned into his soft, cool body, letting myself cry softly.
I released the rest of my team (bar Glastrier), not caring about my appearance or lack of composure. This was the one place where I could be free, and my team were the only beings who wouldn’t judge me for such an unsightly display.
Darmanitan remained calm, patting me on the shoulder twice with a gentleness that belied his incredible strength. I couldn’t quite see the place we had met from my room, but I remembered it clearly. He stood alone from the pack we’d been training against, and it took a while to provoke him to fight. When he did though, he showed more skill and cleverness than the entire group, varrying his attacks in ways they refused to, adapting his strategies. When his anger was roused… he was stronger than the entire group too. He was the first Pokemon to give Vanilly a real challenge.
I suspected Sir Quag would have given my starter a challenge too, had he been in fighting shape when we first met. I’d been traveling with my parents, who were being entertained by some noblewoman and her shipping magnate husband, the conversation so dreadfully dull, I’d begged it off a few minutes after dinner, citing my need to train. There, on the beach outside their summer home, I found Sir Quag, beaten and battered, yet still standing, his arms spread wide.
I couldn’t make out what Pokemon it had fought, though I thought I saw some large blue shape with wide fins dive back beneath the surface. In any case, the battle had clearly left it’s scars, literally in the case of the long gash over Quagsire’s left eye. I captured him immediately, and he wasn’t strong enough to fight the Pokeball, letting me heal him.
Sometimes, I wonder if Sir Quag resents that, despite his honor compelling him to serve me. Of all my Pokemon, he was the most stand offish, even more than Glastrier - the Legendary’s emotions were often one of anger or frustration (amid some more positive ones like pride and rare acceptance of affection after hard-won fights), but you always knew where you stood with them. Right now Sir Quag stood with his back turned to me, not offering comfort or even fretting like my nervous Alolan Sandslash did, rolling across the floor back and forth. Still, I noticed that even while Sir Quag wouldn’t look at me, just out of coincidence, he happened to be standing in front of my door, guarding it against any (read: my parents) who would try to enter.
All of them are so strong, so wonderful… I need to get stronger, for my family and so the world can appreciate them more.
***
Weeks passed in chilly silence within the castle. My parents didn’t speak to me, but I got the sense they were talking about me. Those suspicions were proven true one day as Father entered my room out-of-the-blue.
“Elsa, we’ve been considering your situation,” he said, his tone measured. “Blueberry Academy may not have been the best fit for you.”
“What?” I said, my head snapping up. “But- no, Director Cyrano has promised me a recommendation to the Gym Circuit once I’m done.”
Father scowled, disliking being corrected, but nothing more than that. He’d regained his composure since my disastrous homecoming. “I recall him saying you would only earn one if your behavior was exemplary, and your latest showing was anything but.”
“I’ll win the next match, I’m sure of it! We’ve been training hard; all of my Pokemon have come forward drastically since then-”
“Even Glastrier?” His piercing question was followed with a gaze to the Pokeball that rested on my bedside dresser, untouched since I got here.
“I- they needed time to cool off after a loss,” I weakly defended. “Soon we’ll begin their training again.”
“Good, however it won’t be for Blueberry Academy. I’ve had a word with the Director and he’s expressed ‘concern over your actions’ within the school. Your Mother and I worry that you won’t manage this by the end of your schooling there. Thankfully, she has provided another option for your advancement.” He pulled out a scroll of all things from his pocket, passing it to me.
Untying the ribbon around it, I unfurled the paper, reading. “You’ve been invited to Mustard’s Dojo on the Isle of Armor for an intensive training class,” I read aloud. “What is this?”
“A new opportunity. Mustard was once one of Galar’s Champions. He’ll have much to teach you, and has promised that if you pass he’ll give you his recommendation to participate in the Gym Circuit next year. That is all you have to do this time; pass. You can manage that much at least, can’t you?”
Leave the school? No, this isn’t right. I don’t want to go! “No! I mean, of course I could manage that, but you’re the one who taught me not to settle for mediocrity. I’m going back to Blueberry Academy,” I stated firmly.
Father stepped towards me angrily, raising a hand. “Insolent brat! I told you that when I actually thought you could-” He stopped, feeling the cold emanating from me, the frost spreading along the floor towards his feet. “W-We’ve taken you out of Blueberry Academy and that is final. Hopefully you’ll be done with your little outburst by dinner,” he declared, the imperiousness of his tone undercut by his need to desperately flee my room.
I sneered as he left, before just dropping down, emotionally exhausted. Why do they hate these powers I have? Everything else I excel in and I at least get nods of approval, but something truly special and they act like that. Not having any answers and not wishing to stay here, I grabbed my Pokeballs and headed outside.
Making sure to use the ‘servants passages,’ I avoided my parents. Such pathways also let me ignore anyone else as there was no way we had enough money to hire help like that. Out the front door I wandered down the slope, not even sure what I was looking for, but stopping instinctually as I spotted an offshoot of the main path that was mostly clear. Here’s as good a place as any, I suppose.
Releasing the majority of my team, I told them, “It’s time.” They nodded, getting ready to defend me as I sent my Darmanitan forward, then released Galstrier in the opening. The horse Legendary landed with a heavy thud, and the temperature dropped precipitously. The cold never bothered me, but the sheer anger carried with its intent made me shiver.
“Belly Drum!” I ordered and Darmanitan began beating his stomach violently, each slap carrying out loudly as his body shifted, his shape becoming that of a burning snowman’s. Glastrier charged ahead, violently stomping on him. With the Sitrus berry he chomped down on, Darmanitan was able to push through, rolling in a wheel of flame to scorch along Glastrier’s flank.
“Flare Blitz,” I ordered, and Darmanitan burnt a deep line in the snow, hitting Glastrier hard. As much as it must have hurt, though, the angry horse was tough, and they took the blow before slamming down with a stomping Tantrum of their own, which knocked my first fighter out.
Letting out a Neigh that Chilled even my bones, Sonic stepped forward, and then blurred ahead, moving almost faster than the eye could track in this snowy weather. Up, down, side to side, the Alolan Sandslash struck out with Metal Claws, cutting into Glastrier too fast for them to react. The Legendary shot ice out ineffectually, missing the small, blue, hedgehog-esque Pokemon. Many of the shots hit all around, cleaving trees and shattering boulders, but I wasn’t worried, Froslaas having raised a barrier in front of me. Glastrier’s power hasn’t risen enough yet to risk breaking it, even if any of the shots had come close.
Getting frustrated, Glastrier stomped the ground hard, shaking the entire side of the mountain. Sonic was thrown about bouncing around, and only the Focus Sash around his side snapping kept him in the fight. The Earthquake also unleashed a small avalanche, tumbling down towards me, but the Reflect screen diverted the snowfall around to prevent me from being buried. “Keep at it!” I called out, and my Sandslash sprung back into action at my encouragement, striking the Legendary even more furiously than before.
It didn’t take long for them to realize they needed to do the same attack again, and another earthquake shook more snow loose and knocked out the second Pokemon I’d used in this fight. Glastrier Neigh’d again, gaining even more power, but the previous battles had left their marks. They were panting heavily, and I knew they couldn’t fight much longer.
“Give it up! You’re strong, but you can’t win against my full team. I already proved this, so why must you fight me on this?!” Our first meeting had been difficult. I hadn’t understood the nature of their power, and I was down to just Vanilluxe by the end. Glastrier had tried to turn tail and run, but I ran after, conjuring reigns of ice as I jumped on their back, trying to bring them to heel. They were still quite wild after that, but once I beat them, they at least listened to me- argh!
Clutching my head, I dropped to the ground, a Psychic presence beating on my head. [‘You fool! You understand nothing of my magnificent steed.’] Stepping out from around the bend was a strange, bipedal creature. They had a deer-like face, stubby arms, and most of their mass was occupied in the large bulbous crown above their head. It would be difficult to walk with such a weight balanced above them, but the fact that they could float forward certainly helped.
The Psychic pressure kept up, pounding at me, and keeping my body pinned as the creature moved ahead. My Dark Stone necklace! I forgot to put it on in my rush out of here. [‘My steed needs more than a violent demonstration of power, they need respect, the respect of their liege. I offer you that,’] They mentally projected as they floated in front of Glastrier. [‘Now join me, and let us be free, together.’]
They’re going to take Glastrier away from me! “No!” I shouted, letting loose a blast of ice at the Psychic being. They hissed loudly, their telepathic grip loosening over me, before they doubled back down, crushing my body again. My Pokemon moved around, trying to protect me but unable to easily combat this force.
[“Arrogant girl! That will not be enough-’] They began before Glastrier headbutted the creature, hard. The blow sent them collapsing to the ground and I was free to move again. The Legendary horse, clearly deciding it had enough of both of us, turned and galloped away.
“Get back here!” I called out, to no avail, my Legendary running away, down the mountain.
[‘Look at what you’ve done! You made them run! I was so close to being reunited after so long…’] The Psychic being moaned. I worried it would try and stop me again, but Sir Quag, Vanilly, and Lady Ice moved forward prepared to attack if they tried anything, and the creature just slumped down.
“You’re one to talk; I had things under control until you intervened! I would have shown my strength to Glastrier once again and they would have had faith in me.”
[‘Glastrier is the steed of kings; they respond to respect, not brutish claims of dominance!’]
“Oh really? It sure didn’t seem that way when they knocked you down, whatever you are.”
The creature glared at me before slumping down. [‘I- It has been many, many years, and I have lost much of my former strength. They may not recall me in my weakened state, and I do not have the means to bind them to my side once more.’]
“Whatever. I need to go after them, before they…” Leave me, forever. “Get into trouble,” I finished, beginning to turn and walk down before they telepathically called out.
[‘Wait! Please, let me come with you. I have not seen my horse in centuries. Even should they not accept me, I’d like to say goodbye.’]
“Who are you?”
[‘My name, is Calyrex, and I was once a great king.’]
***
We walked down the mountain, and Calyrex explained their situation to me. How they had once been widely respected and helped the land grow and flourish, but as the ages had passed they had been forgotten, and lost the majority of their power. How my parents had inadvertently turned what once was the seat of their power to a fortress built with a foundation antithetical to them.
“That’s awful,” I said and they turned about to stare at me suspiciously.
[‘I had not gotten the impression you cared about such matters, least of all for someone else.’]
“Who are you to-”
[‘I’m a Psychic, and I’ve felt you before. You take pleasure in hurting others. I’m still baffled that one such as yourself could somehow take control of my steed.’] Clayrex grumbled.
“I don’t- only when they’re being idiots and I get to put them in their place, and who wouldn’t feel good about that?” I continued before they could answer the rhetorical question. “Besides, you clearly don’t know everything about me - or your steed. I am Elsa Death, descendant of kings and queens, ice flows through my veins, and I am the greatest Trainer… or I will be, someday at least.” I amended. “Glastrier saw my power and bent to my will because they knew I was great. That is how kingship works. Power, not mercy or respect.”
Calyrex stared at me with that unfamiliar gaze of theirs, before slowly bobbing their head (somehow not losing their balance while doing so). [‘There is some truth to your words. I feel a strength from you few humans possess; I may be weakened, but most unguarded minds I would be able to take over fully, yet you fought me. That being said, I still believe respect is better. With mutual respect, you’d not have needed to fight them - why did you need to, again?’]
I sighed loudly, hating to have to actually speak the words. “Because I lost, and Glastrier lost faith in me.”
[‘Did they? I admit, my memory has faded greatly with age, to the point that I could barely recall Glastrier’s appearance, yet their noble nature… that I remember clearly. I don’t think they would act in such a way, not to one that had already proven themselves.’]
But if that’s the case, then I just- no. No! I felt their anger, I’m sure of it. Yet, as I thought of it, I wondered if my assumption was correct. They hadn’t broken out of their Pokeball in the weeks hence, so what if their anger which I had felt building up was due to something else? In which case I was just projecting, feeling unsure of myself and in my efforts to ‘prove’ my worth, driving them away.
We crossed into Giant’s Bed in silence. While I'd lost track of where Glastrier had gone from the mountain, the icy trail across grass and flowers clearly marked our way.
“Before, when I said it was awful, I meant it. Being alone like that… it’s terrible.”
[‘You speak as if you know of this. Yet you’re surrounded by humans.’]
“They’re near me physically, but I don’t have anyone truly close. I thought I did but- I guess even Cyrano didn’t believe in me.” Perhaps Father misinterpreted what he meant? Possibly, but it doesn’t really matter. Ever since I beat nemona, I’ve seen something different in his gaze towards me. Something disappointed.
“I tried to be a good leader,” I said, talking to this strange pokemon, simply because I could and I didn’t need to fear the words getting back to anyone, making me look even weaker. “I proved my strength in the League Club, and then I set a good example, of how to be a disciplined Trainer. I instructed others to comport themselves in the same manner, but no one respected me for it. They were just afraid, even after I beat Nemona, and when she beat me…”
Why did I even want to stay at Blueberry Academy? Sure, it had been fun, at the start. The school itself is a marvel of engineering, with so many wondrous elements, but I made no real connections to the people. Becoming the Champion of the League Club was like becoming the ruler of my own little kingdom. But I’ve lost it all now, most of ‘my’ Elites out, Cyrano’s trust in me gone, no one wants me there. No one wants me, period.
[‘Not no one. Your Pokemon would care, and I think, I would too,’] Calyrex said, having heard my thoughts.
“Really? After all this, you’d care?... Why?”
[‘Perhaps I’ve been by myself for too long, but as one lonely soul to another, it would be a shame for you to be gone. At the very least, there are aspects to your character that are not as unpleasant as I originally feared.’]
“Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically.
We passed by a large stream of water as we neared the most vibrant section of the tundra, filled with flowers and Pokemon. The one we sought sat at the base of a truly massive tree, sitting atop a small island.
Glastrier perked their head up at our slow approach, tensing, and I did my best to resist tensing in turn. “How do- what should I do to best show respect?” I muttered as we walked slower.
Calyrex looked surprised but quickly recovered. [‘Be open with them. Explain, don’t demand.’]
Right, I can do that. Feel, don’t conceal. Glastrier eyed me cautiously, their yellow eyes holding a spark of anger to them. Kneeling down a few meters away, I said, “You did great out there. In that battle against Nemona. It was I who needed to do better, and I will. I… could do so easier with you at my side.”
I waited, my eyes closed as I wondered what their judgment would be. I heard Glastrier rise, and then place their head on my shoulder. A flood of relief filled me, and I grabbed their icy cool face tightly.
“Thank you,” I whispered, rising and taking out a Potion to tend to their wounds. Glastrier gave a happy neigh at being healed, prancing around a few times. I still need to do much to understand them better, but I will, whatever may come in the future.
The leaves fluttered around us, drifting in the wind as Glastrier came to a halt, bending down slightly to let me climb aboard his back. Taking my spot, I trotted forward, getting ready to leave.
Gazing down from atop my high horse, I saw Calyrex, his head hung low, as he projected some sort of goodbye to his mount. Glastrier paused in their stride out, turning their head to look back at me in askance.
“Well, I suppose, it couldn’t hurt to have them along, if you wanted to join us, Calyrex?” The Psychic whipped their head up, looking shocked before overjoyed, hovering up to join me upon Glastrier’s back, clinging tightly to my Legendary. For their part, Glastrier seemed a little more as ease as they trotted back home. It was hard to tell, and Glastrier still clearly had a lot of mixed feelings, but for now, we were all content.
***
A few months later, I found myself at the doors to a large, but very isolated dojo. Knocking, I waited until I got a muffled sound inviting me in. Within the dojo were a number of students, about the same as could be found in most classes at Bluerberry Academy.
At the front of the wide, open dojo floor space was an aged yet spry man in a green uniform, two long grey clusters of hair hanging down and framing his face. This was Mustard, the head of the dojo, and man who had been the Champion of Galar for the longest period in history.
“Class we’ve got a new student today! Let’s all give her a warm welcome, he declared, and surprisingly everyone was. Offering to show me around, or ‘teach me the ropes,’ or just generally nice. It was weird.
After we settled down, Mustard asked, “Now, Miss Elsa, what do you want from our humble dojo?”
A recommendation to fight in the Gym Circuit, strength enough to crush all my enemies, some chocolate to shove in my face. They were all true things I thought (if only because I missed lunch and it was a bit of a hike here to begin with), but they weren’t what I said. Instead, I declared, “I want to be a better person, the best I can be.”
The elderly martial artist smiled at my words. “Then let’s begin.”
A/N: So here we go, the end of Elsa’s tale, at least in this story. Clearly, she has a lot more going on, and I definitely crunched together her character arc here, but plans have changed from her being a recurring rival character. So this is the last we’ll be seeing of her in the story.
I always thought Ice was a cool Typing, with a lot of fun Mons, that unfortunately gets really poor representation from the in-game Gym Leaders and Elites, so I wanted to do a bit more with that for a rival character in the Blueberry arc. I had a lot of fun designing her team, especially the Glastrier/royal bloodline connection. It fit super well with Galar, as that region worked for explaining part of why Elsa wasn’t as well known, despite being so strong.
The rest of her team I also thought about a lot. Originally, I had considered an Alolan Ninetails as her starter/Snow setter, but Vanilleuxe I felt worked a lot better, particularly because they’re a bit more goofy of a Pokemon. I wanted that to mirror Nemona having a Dudunsparce as her starter. To a lesser degree, that was part of the basis for Quagsire, having a derpy design, but Quag is also a bit of an easter egg to something else I brought up here.
There’s more I could go one, like Frosslass being symbolic of the elegance and grace she tries to present herself as, Alolan Sandslash being representative of her prickly and cold exterior with a soft underbelly she’s afraid to expose, and her Galarian Darmanitan showing the explosive temper she has when she feels pushed too far, or how all of those together cover all the weaknesses Ice Types have, to give her a balanced team (alongside Quagsire who resist 3 of the 4 weaknesses and has no weakness to fighting).
Elsa as a character was clearly meant to foil Nemona as well; young, prodigious trainer from an important family. But where Elsa was cold and controlling, Nemona was warm and easygoing. She also contrasted the last threat, being a challenge to Nemona in terms of competitive battling, but ultimately was a small school lighter threat, meant to be a bit of a breather compared to Turo the mad scientist who threatened a whole region, but wasn’t a great battler (and in fact, never even got battled for real!).
So yeah, I clearly had a lot planned for her, and wanted to unfold her story throughout this one, and uh, turns out you can’t do that! Or at least, an overwhelming number of fans didn’t want to see that in this weekly updating story. Maybe I could have explained all the backstory earlier and it would have helped? I don’t think it would have fixed everything, the complaints were far too varied for that, but it might have been something.
I can’t change the past, so all I can do now is live and learn. This story has taught me a lot about writing and audiences and I’m sure it will teach me plenty more. I think we’re a half to two thirds done now, and I’ve got some fun stuff planned for the future. I hope you’ll enjoy it, and that you enjoyed this chapter, exploring a bit more of the antagonist for the last arc, and if not, at least it’s over now.