“I mean, just look at what she does at night.
King here always circles the herd, never bedding down until the last slowpoke has settled in – and at some point included me in that circle.
Not to mention that she was the first to respond to the sneasel.
If those aren’t the actions of a leader, I don’t know what are,” he summarized with a shrug.
…
The slowking remained silent for a moment, then nodded his head.
“I see.
It would seem dear Archibald’s journal did fall into the hands of a promising young human,” he said, and Leo took a moment to process that information.
“Allow me to answer your question before you pose it – yes, I was once Archibald’s companion, as was the old tyranitar you have run into.
Though he was old even before he joined the Team, and was the newest member.
The rest of the team has faded with time, though a few of their descendants still remain in these mountains,” slowking said.
“Huh,” Leo said eloquently.
“So…these slowpoke are all your kids then?” At this, the slowking laughed heartily, slapping his knee.
“Oh no, of course not!
I have had no children in my time here – I am a King who lost his throne and his people thanks to a careless mistake.
I am unfit to sire more children, save for those I left already on the shores of Cerulean,” the slowking said sadly, and Leo blinked, gaining a sudden insight to the slowking.
“In fact, I dare not call myself a king anymore.
Archibald was our king, there could have been no other,”
“I see.
I’m sorry,” Leo said awkwardly.
“It is fine, many years have passed since that day.
Though it seems you and I have much in common,” the slowking explained with a dismissive wave of its hand…paw, thing.
Leo wasn’t sure what the stubby appendage was really called, because it looked like a hand but also a paw like a slowpoke’s.
“How so?” Leo asked, shaking away his idle thoughts.
He was far more tired than he thought if he was thinking about things like that.
“You and I both had our worlds stripped away by twists of fate,” the slowking said simply, and Leo stilled.
He looked at the slowking and, for a moment, felt just as he did.
Tired, and old.
Remembering a world and a life that could have continued on to greater heights, only to have it stripped away.
The only difference was that Leo was given a new chance, another start, even if he hadn’t wanted one.
“How did he die?” Leo asked, trusting the slowking would understand he was talking about Archibald.
The slowking didn’t reply immediately, opting to stand instead and yawn.
“I will tell you in the morning.
There is must we must talk about, I believe.
In the meantime, rest, it has been a long day and you are still injured from the hitmontop,” he said.
Leo barely registered the statement and how he knew Leo had fought a hitmontop as weariness suddenly washed over him like a wave, forcing his eyes to flutter shut.
He wanted to voice more questions, but, as if some unseen force had struck him, instead he slumped over King and fell into a deep slumber, darkness taking him.
…
Leo scrabbled up the mountain after Slowking as said pink pokemon calmly levitated up the hillside.
To say Leo was envious of the slowking’s psychic prowess was an understatement.
He wanted to float over the stony ground – Slowking having chosen the absolute hardest way for Leo to climb up the mountain – but settled for imagining a much buffer and brawnier version of himself striding up the mountain with casual ease.
A much different image than that of his current climb; crawling over rocks taller than himself, hand over fist, fighting inch by inch just to climb the rocky, avalanche-destroyed mountainside.
Thankfully though Leo could see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Not but a hundred feet in front of him was the top of the climb, marked by a sharp ledge and blue sky beyond it.
Pausing for breath, Leo sat down on the boulder he had climbed over and wiped sweat from his brow, looking back out over the river valley.
He could see the lake the slowpoke herd congregated around, glittering in the midafternoon sun while the river snaked its way toward him, twisting to and fro as it wove between mountains.
The mountain range seemed to stretch on forever from his position, growing taller the further upriver he looked.
A few of the furthest peaks still had snow on them even.
Leo pulled a bottle of water from his pack and took a long drink, forcing himself to not drink too much.
He wanted to save some for the trip down.
“Come, boy, it is not far to the top now,” Slowking said, floating a good thirty feet up the mountain.
“Easy for you to say,” Leo snapped, making Slowking chuckle.
Leo panted and lay flat on his back, scowling as the sun’s intense rays scorched his skin.
He’d need a bath after this, otherwise everything would stink of sweat.
That, and he really needed to get that hat made.
“Say, why is this mountain so much shorter than all the others?” Leo voiced.
Before Slowking had drug him all the way over here, Leo had thought this mountain was connected to the mountain behind it, not a mountain of its own.
It was only half as tall as the surrounding mountains after all, and much of its surface was covered in rockslides and dense forest.
It hadn’t looked fun to climb, which was why Leo hadn’t travelled this way to explore yet.
Besides, it was a solid half-days walk downstream just to get here and Leo wasn’t keen on spending the night away from the slowpoke herd.
“Finish the climb,” Slowking said after a moment of silence.
Leo grumbled to himself, took a deep breath, and turned back towards the mountain, carefully picking where he placed his feet.
The rocks were loose enough in this section of the climb that Leo didn’t want to risk kicking any loose, or disturbing a geodude and getting himself punched again.
He was still sore from the hitmontop, after all.
It took a good few minutes of climbing for Leo to reach the top, where immediately he had his already short breath stolen from him by the sight laid out before him.
The entire other side of the mountain had been blown away.
Dead trees lined the crater side, either killed off, snapped in half, or burnt to cinders.
Massive round holes dotted the ground and remaining mountainside, leading deep into the earth itself.
Deep lines carved themselves into the stone and smaller craters littered the ground, while tall spires of rock reached haphazardly into the sky.
“What in the world happened here?” Leo breathed, eyes wide and still wheezing, hands on his knees.
The ledge he stood on was a mere two feet wide and relatively flat, sharply falling off into the crater below.
He felt nervous just standing there, as if the ground would give way any moment and send him tumbling into the crater below.
“Tyrus, the old tyranitar you have met and my old ally, fought a war – we all did,” Slowking said somberly, setting himself on the ground next to Leo and staring out at the ancient battlefield, eyes growing distant.
Leo allowed Slowking his moment of silence, struggling to remain quiet as he panted and sweat like a pig.
It wasn’t until Leo had caught his breath that Slowking continued.
“This is not where Archibald died, as I am sure you are aware.
This is, however, where his team released their vengeance.
This mountain used to be a place where onix would come to evolve into steelix, being rich in the metals required for their evolution.
It had been a particularly active year, and that is what drew Archibald to the mountain in the first place – though it is not the onix who killed him.
No, that year, Winter came early to the mountains,” Slowking said.
Leo swallowed heavily, looking out over the crater.
If this was the kind of devastation a champion-level team could dish out…that was insane.
How many pounds of TNT would it take to blow up an entire mountain?
“When the Living Winter arrived the onix and steelix were above ground, basking in the last rays of the summer sun.
The harsh blizzards hit without any warning, driving the onix below ground with such speed and ferocity that it caused tunnels to collapse all across the range.
Archibald had the poor luck of becoming trapped beneath the mountain.
With the help of Tyrus he managed to get back to the entrance, but…well,” Slowking sighed.
“The tunnels were too small for a tyranitar, so Archibald recalled him, and released me instead.
I heard the shifting rock, but thought nothing of it.
Instead, I was focused on the blizzard outside the cave, and in my distraction the cave collapsed, crushing Archibald.
With his last breaths he released his team.
I blamed myself.
The others blamed Articuno, and sought revenge.
What could I do but aid them?
“It was…folly to fight a blizzard.
The winter birds were powerful in their element, diving in and out of the storm, vanishing from even my psychic senses.
Legendaries are called such for a reason, and yet even against two of the powerful ice-types we managed to hold our ground.
We even managed to ground one, which led to our downfall.
Tyrus unleased a powerful earthquake upon the downed bird, which disturbed the onix below and crumbled the mountain.
Only three of us survived, the others’ bones buried beneath the rubble,” At this point Slowking fell silent, and Leo keeping quiet out of respect.
Until, that is, his curiosity got the better of him.
…
A/ N: The Story Needs More Power Stones 😉