The Crystal League
Yes, I think it was deleted before, but I feel like posting it again, for the same reason that I wrote Only Human; to get more practise with writing in first-person writing.
So here's the Crystal League! Reposted and hopefully it'll last longer this time!
Cheers!
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The Crystal League.
Chapter 1
Weak sunlight struggled through the dusty windows of my dormitory. Outside, a young Dodrio struggled to squawk each off-key note without getting into a heated argument with it’s other heads. Inside, I struggled to break loose of my bed sheets; my feet were somehow stuck inside them.
“Help!” I cried, initially unaware that I had yelled it out instead of following my plan of whispering to Joey, the kid in the bed alongside me. After my scream, nine figures shot up in their beds, bolt upright, shocked at the literally rude awakening. I would have laughed at their befuddled expressions, if Mr Burnside hadn’t stepped down from the mezzanine floor at that moment. He was frowning at me so sternly that his forehead creased into a mass of wrinkles.
“Bryan Nolan,” he sighed, taking slow, menacing steps towards my bed. Joey, next to me, cringed as he strode past, but after two weeks at the camp I knew this guy’s style. He usually tried to intimidate, but when he finally spat out a few words I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “This is your final day here.” He boomed, finally, his forehead straightening out again. “For two weeks, Bryan, you have trained with your temporary Pokemon Partner, gaining experience, learning about your Pokemon, and working out strategies.”
Mr Burnside was pacing between mine and Joey’s beds. When he came close to me, he stopped, and looked directly into my eyes. Sorry, Mr Burnside, I’m not intimidated by YOU today. Mr Burnside seemed to read my thoughts, and he shied away, leaving me staring triumphantly at the side of his head. It was only then, after two full weeks of being at camp with him dictating, that I realised Mr Burnside had a very fitting surname – change it around a little and he’d be Mr Sideburn. And that makes sense, since his sideburns are pretty scary.
“This camp was hopefully meant to make you more mature.” Sideburn continued, still pacing endlessly. “ But, Bryan, you seem to have become worse.”
Shut Up! “But Si- er- Mr Burnside, I thought the purpose of the camp was to (at this point I put on an attempted Mr Burnside accent) ensure that our young bodies are physically prepared for the challenges that await us young adventurers on Crystal Island.”
Joey, next to me, snorted loudly, and quickly darted under his sheets to avoid Mr Burnside’s poisonous glare. When Sideburn turned back to me, his eyes flashed wildly, and all the other boys in the dormitory strained their ears to hear what would happen. Suddenly Sideburn pulled himself together, probably to keep up his mature front.
“You are lucky, Bryan Nolan, that I am not the one to decide who enters the Crystal League, and who does NOT.” He hissed, then raised his voice to a confident tone again. “ All trainers are to be in the Main Hall in half an hour.”
With that, Sideburn stalked off to the mezzanine level, and Joey emerged from his bed to help me. I told him about the sheets, and he snorted again. Joey often did that, I had worked that out quickly in the two weeks we had known each other. However, he was still a good friend, and grabbed strong hold of the sheets, tearing them off in one swift movement.
Joey was my age, fifteen, but apparently a lot stronger. Although we had both endured two weeks of physical training, some people did well, while others achieved little, myself being part of the latter, even though Joey said I wasn’t as weak as I thought.
Once the sheets were off, Joey and I realised the problem, and both cracked up. After a few minutes, we stopped laughing to evaluate the problem and get the three wild Caterpie out of my bed. All three caterpie had used String Shot to literally bind my legs to the bed. Joey helped me to pry my legs off the under sheet. Once I was finally up, all the other boys guffawed loudly. I guessed this was a way of Ben Wyatt getting me back for last week when I planted one baby Caterpie in his bed, and made his feet stick to the mattress. Well, he deserved it more than I did. He acted like an absolute idiot to his pokemon.
Scraping the last of the solidified String Shot off, I pulled a T shirt over my head and thought of the day ahead of me. This morning all two hundred trainers at the camp were embarking on a short walk to the Main Hall, where meals were eaten. There, three judges from the Crystal League committee would allow only ten people into the league and begin training. All the others, all hundred and ninety of them, would receive a small gift as compensation.
My aim was to be one of the ten.
I couldn’t wait. This was my first time at the crystal league training camp, unlike some, and probably my last. Dad had said before I left that it was way too expensive to send me here two years in a row, so this year was probably my only shot; thank God Sideburn wasn’t on the committee. He’d place me in 200th position and steal my gift and poison my Eevee, he hates me that much.
However, there’s not much to hate about me – I’m a lovable guy, right? A good outlook on life, considerate … I’m nice enough. Well, apparently not. Sideburn thinks I’m *ahem* too fond of the joke. What’s the harm in a few tricks? Grimers in the showers – they wouldn’t have hurt anyone! Caterpie in the bed – that was my personal favourite until today. And then there was the time with those Charmeleons, that was funny … though I did feel a bit sorry for Janie when her hair got charred off.
“C’mon, Bryan,” Joey called, pushing me through the old wooden doorframe and out into the crisp, early morning air. I struggled to keep up with Joey – his pack must have been a lot lighter than mine, I mean, it was BOUNCING on his back. We traipsed through a small field and along a narrow, well travelled gravel path until finally we rose up over a hill and saw the enormous Main Hall in the valley below, trainers everywhere swarming from all direction to the front door.
Joey and I joined the crowd, slowly pressing forward. Every few seconds I had to jump up to see over Joey’s black hair, to make sure I could still see the front door, and that we were heading in the right direction. After literally fifteen minutes, I suddenly found myself in the large Main Hall, but today it looked very different from the usual plain, echoey, cement hall that I was used to.
Today, the hall was draped with bright balloons and vibrant streamers. Upon a newly-erected platform sat three people; an old, white haired man, whose wrinkles were visible from twenty metres away; however he had a wise looking, but dangerous somehow, face. Next was an old woman who I recognised as Agatha, a retired member of the Elite four. She was not quite as wrinkled, but had silvery white hair and wore long navy robes. To her right sat Lance, one of the greatest ever Pokemon trainers. He was leader of the Elite Four. All three sat at a lengthy desk, with a small microphone fitted in front of each of them. At the very front of the platform, tiny Cleffa and Igglybuff danced to their own, soothing music which made me feel drowsy, but not sleepy exactly.
In the audience area, dozens and dozens of plastic chairs littered the hall in straight rows and columns. They were filling up rapidly, so Joey and I raced the crowds to about half way between the entrance and platform. We were pretty lucky to find two adjacent seats.
After another few minutes waiting, the final few trainers took their seats. At the front of the audience sat Sideburn and the other various-aged staff of the camp. Finally, the old man upon the platform cleared his throat, and launched into a brief speech.
“Welcome all trainers to the annual Crystal League acceptance ceremony.” The man declared, his mouth so close to the mike it appeared he was ready to devour it whole. “I am Mr Ferris Musoman, but you may call me Mr Ferris Musoman.”
A few people laughed politely at the feeble attempt at a joke, but I sighed at the joke – WAY TOO OLD. Most of us, myself included, just wanted to get to the good part – The actual acceptance ceremony. Abruptly, Agatha, on Musoman’s right, spoke up. “The three of us judges have, after an extremely long and tiring night (there were a few laughs at this), decided upon the ten trainers worthy of entering the Crystal League. Now Master Lance will introduce you all to the first three.”
The younger, ebony-haired guy stood up quickly, much younger (in his 20’s) than the others. He held a small laminated card in one hand and his mike in the other. “Good Morning, Ladies and Gents, I am Lance, Champion of the Elite Four Trainers.” Lance’s cape rippled in the cool tropical wind. He paced out in front of the long desk and the Cleffa and Igglybuff scattered wildly. I would have laughed if I hadn’t been so tensed up, but I was too nervous. Would I be in? Would I finally enter the Crystal League?
“All trainers are asked to come up to the platform after their name is called. Trainers one, two and three...” Lance drawled slowly, pausing at the end of each word to draw out the suspense. “Are Nick Golding, Julia Waltham and Emily Griffith.”
My heart pounded, as cheers rose up and Lance congratulated each trainer as they arrived on the platform. So I wasn’t in – yet. Lance took his seat as Agatha stood up slowly and cautiously, and simply read three more names. “Chris Hudson, Joey Austin, Mist Floreat.”
People cheered all around, but I was in slight shock. However, I managed to smile slightly and give Joey a pathetic thump on the back as he strode up the aisle towards Agatha, who patted him and the other two trainers on the back in a gesture of congratulations. Four More spaces … I had to get in! Joey had, at least. Agatha slowly lowered herself down as Musoman stood up to read three more trainers. “Trainers 6 – 9 are Elizabeth Hulmes, Ben Wyatt and David Colfax.”
My heart skipped a beat this time. Ben Wyatt, from my dormitory, had actually got in. That meant he and Joey, who were both in the same dorm, had been accepted. The chances of me getting in were now extraordinarily slim – three trainers from the same dorm was virtually impossible, since there were twenty dormitories altogether. Lance stood up one final time, and held a miniscule card in his hand. Every muscle in my body tensed. Every being in the audience trembled as Lance gradually opened his mouth, enjoying the suspense teasingly. “Ryan Noloh.”
My heart skipped another beat, and plummeted about fifty feet. At this rate, I was gonna have a heart attack or something! But I didn’t care about that … I’d just lost, I was out, I’d failed … never would I get another chance. I’d lost to Ryan Noloh … Who was Ryan Noloh? Wait a sec …
“It’s me!” I yelled, my voice hoarse. Hundreds of eyes locked onto me - I felt my face flush scarlet, half embarrassed, half sheer happiness.
“Ryan Noloh?” asked Lance, as I hauled myself out of my seat into the blue-carpeted aisle.
“No, Bryan Nolan actually.”
The entire hall burst into laughter. Lance actually chuckled himself, before muttering into his mike: “Can’t read my own writin’.” My legs decided to stop working as I was halfway to the platform, and I toppled over. Luckily, my arms were still in action, and I managed to spring back up. My legs rigid, I walked stiffly towards the platform, watching as Musoman pulled a cord and a huge material sign unfurled above him, mustard block letters splashed on it, loudly proclaiming “Crystal League – trainers of 2005.”
Finally I stumbled up the wooden steps and reached the platform. Looking back, everyone was cheering for us trainers, except Sideburn, of course. I laughed with pleasure - what a loser! I then felt a firm hand of my shoulder; Lance stood there. “Congratulations, Bryan.”
I joined the other nine trainers, all of whom were clapping along. Eventually, the noise died down, and Musoman stood up, holding another card. From where I stood behind him, I could make out ten names and another word beside them – A pokemon partner, obviously, for the journey. Musoman read names out one-by-one, and each trainer received a pokemon and a spare pokeball. The rest of the pokeballs we needed had to be bought with our own money. I tuned out for all the trainers, until my turn, of course. Musoman smiled, his moustache twitching slightly, as he handed me my pokemon, in a pokeball, and a spare. Then he uttered a few words to me. “ That pokemon is the one I started with.” I grinned, elated that I had succeeded in entering, and took the balls, retreating back to the other trainers. I looked out over the cheering sea of people (though a lot of them were sitting in a kind of sulk), and decided; this was definitely the happiest I had ever been.
Originally Posted by mr_pikachu
