Pokemon Mahogany

Chapter 1: Birthday (5th Draft)

Rhys' hands shook as he fiddled with his ceremonial kimono. It was his first-ever fancy pair, and he was still not used to them. Today was his tenth birthday, the day he would receive his first Pokemon, while others have to buy or catch one, Rhys, as a member of a clan, had a Pokemon pre-selected and bred by his family.

He bounced back and forth on the balls of his feet. He'd waited so long for this day and couldn't wait. Not only would he see both of his parents at the same time since they had gone to Clair's tenth birthday, but he couldn't stop thinking of the possibilities for pokemon. His favorite choice was a Swinub, like his uncle; there was also a Sneasel, like his father's Weavile. There were other options as well: an Eevee to match with his mother's Glaceon, or a Teddiursa, but they weren't the Ice and Dark type Pokemon the clan was known for. Either way he had exhausted his family's books on Ice and Dark types, devouring every scrap of knowledge he could between sneaking off, causing chaos, and hounding his tutors.

Of course, the fact that all of his likely options were Ice types only heightened his pride. 'Clair said Swinubs aren't cool, but she's dumb. I bet she's just jealous that it's better than her dumb Horsea!' The youngest Blackthorn had gotten her Horsea six months ago and he had barely seen her–his sole friend–since.

Finally, Rhys had put his robes on correctly, smiling to himself in the mirror, the pink hair he had inherited from his mother greeting him.

Rhys turned away from the mirror, surveying his room. Rather than its usual messy appearance, he had dutifully–shoved all the mess under his bed and into his closet–cleaned up. Only taking special care to return all of his family history and Pokemon books to their place on the bookshelf. Still his room was spotlessly clean, although seeing such an open and empty room gave him the urge to start running or to retrieve one of his personal notebooks to start drawing in.

Instead he went to the window, looking out onto the mansion complex that was his entire world, sans Mahogany town itself and Blackthorn city, which his parents rarely took him too. There was the all too familiar courtyard, the distant pokemon nursery, and countless tiny other parts of the mansion which were rarely in use. All underneath the familiar traditional Johto styled roofs that were endemic to the landscape. Beyond that there were the countless mountains that tapered off to the north where the Lake of Rage resided. While to the East they crept up to the peak of Blackthorn mountain–which the Mahogany's and the Blackthorns–held dual ownership of. Although that peak was nothing to the legendary Mt. Silver which Rhys had always wanted to see.

Before he could distract himself again, a knock on the door and a gentle voice brought him to attention, "Rhys dear, are you ready? It's almost time."

"Yes, Mom, I'll be right out." He said, bounding away from the window.

"It's mother, dear." She corrected; Rhys nodded, her voice bringing a smile to his face. He exited the room, doing his best to contain his excitement.

His mother looked down at him with a smile that didn't rise above her painted lips. She was dressed finely and carried herself with a grace she had perfected over many years. "Good, now come along, dear. Everyone's waiting."

She ushered him along with a hand on his back. His mother felt a small amount of pride in how he was handling himself; normally, he was utterly unruly, getting into fights with Clair, running around, trying to get into places he wasn't allowed, or trying to escape the grounds of the family mansion to venture into the nearby forest. Even now, every step he took sent a flutter of excitement running through his body, demanding that he run down the hall at full speed. Still, Rhys resisted that urge, even as he took shaky steps.

His mother sighed. One part of her was happy at the work he had put in to maintain his composure; another was tired of having such a rambunctious and troublesome child.

Each of Rhys' footsteps echoed out into an eternity. His fancy new kimono restricted his movements, forcing him to take short deliberate steps that made every moment under the all too familiar roofs of the mansion unbearably long. There wasn't a single inch of the place he hadn't thoroughly explored, left alone to tutors and servants most of the time with Clair living in Blackthorn city and his parents terminally busy, bothering the guards and other servants about their pokemon.

In some ways, those servants, tutors, and nameless faceless guards in their full body ninja outfits were more like parents to him than his actual parents.

Regardless of how he felt, it was only a short walk, and the pair arrived before the ceremony chamber. Outside, Pryce and his Mamoswine waited for them on either flank of the great double door that served as the entrance to the ceremony chamber.

"Rhys! How's my favorite nephew?" He said, waving at them.

"Great!" the boy said, almost bounding forward. "It's so good to see you, Uncle Pryce!"

The older man kneeled to greet his nephew. "It's good to see you too, Rhys. I trust you haven't been giving your mother any trouble." Beside him, the Mamoswine rolled its eyes. Everybody there but Rhys knew the real answer.

"Nope! I've been on my best behavior, you just see!"

His mother winced behind him at his explosion of emotion. She loved to see his shining face, but he was a handful. She hoped the responsibility of owning a Pokemon would mellow him out, although she had seen so little of her son she could only have hopes.

Pryce chuckled, patting Rhys on the head. "Well, I wish you luck, and don't worry; we chose the best Pokemon for you." There was a slight mischievous tinge to his uncle's smile, but only his mother saw it. Rhys was far too distracted to take notice.

Rhys nodded and went before the large double doors, breathing shakily. His mother stood behind him, praying for his success.

"All right, open up. The boys are ready." His uncle called, slamming the flat of his hand against the door.

As the smell of incense hit him, the doors slowly opened, revealing the barely lit chamber. Candlelight, turning the attendants into shadows. That was fine for Rhys; the only person in that room whom he wanted to see was his father. He stood behind a curtain at the opposite end of the room, an imposing silhouette next to the vague boxy silhouette of a small palanquin flanked by a pokemon that hid the identity of Rhys' first Pokemon, with a half-obscured pokemon at its flank. Beyond his immediate family, the shadowed forms of the Blackthorns, and his Uncle Koga sat. He could only make out Lance's full-toothed grin shining in the candlelight, while Clair and her parents melded into one silhouette. There were a dozen more people, nameless and faceless servants, but Rhys gave them no mind.

Rhys walked forward, his mother following swiftly behind. He sat before the raised platform where a single cushion waited for him. He bowed as he sat, his eyes trained on the thin curtain that sat between him and his future. His heart beat faster than it ever had.

He heard the shuffling of his father's robes as he raised a hand.

CLANG!

The sound of the gong answered his father's wordless command, and the veil was lifted, revealing the silhouetted Pokemon.

She was a Sneasel; bluish-black fur, two pointed ears with a short spiked feather gave away her gender, and a pair of claws on each hand. He had studied Sneasels and could tell that her short stature–even for her species–was because of her young age. She had an elegant, peaceful look on her face as she held her eyes closed. A male Weavile flanked her, with an impressive plumage of feathers atop its head.

In between them sat the black Pokeball atop another cushion, shining in the candlelight.

Rhys was in awe. He had seen both Sneasels and Weaviles before, but at this moment, she, his first Pokemon, was the most beautiful one he had ever seen. This was his Sneasel, his present, the Pokemon which marked the start of Clair and his clan recognizing him, and that one day he might finally leave this claustrophobic mansion, that as–

WHACK!

Rhys bounced back and fell onto the floor as a black pokeball slammed into his face.

The room went silent as everyone looked at Rhys sprawled on the floor before all eyes were drawn to the assailant. The Sneasel stood victorious over Rhys, raising a claw in the air as she released a triumphant trill. It took the Weavile standing behind her a second to snap out of his shock before he promptly slammed the blunt of his claws into the back of her head, knocking her out cold.

Pryce burst out into laughter as the furious Weavile growled loudly at the unconscious Sneasel. In the gallery, Lance and Claire could barely contain themselves, their parents looming over them. Behind him, Rhys' mother stepped forward as she went for her own Pokeball.

"No," Rhys' father said, holding up a hand. "Let him get up on his own."

Rhys rubbed his face as he sat up from the floor, stunned as he realized what had happened. The angry chirps of the Weavile echoed in his mind. Beside him, the Pokeball sat listlessly on the floor. Rhys took the ball off the floor with a shaky hand and looked at his own reflection on its surface. He was red with embarrassment; he could feel everyone's eyes on him, judging him. He fought the urge to snarl or frown as he took his eyes off his reflection in the pokeball and looked straight ahead at the Sneasel as the Weavile berated it.

Hate, furious, childish hatred overtook him for a moment, and he thought he would throw the Pokeball to the floor, shattering it into a million pieces before he left the Sneasel. Instead, he clutched the Pokeball tightly and tossed it towards the incapacitated Sneasel.

The ball bounced against the Sneasel's head with a hollow, wooden sound before the Sneasel disappeared into it with a flash of red. The Weavile looked at Rhys, and the two held each other's gaze as the Pokeball fell to the floor.

The Pokeball wobbled once, a wavering sound echoing around the room.

Twice it wobbled. Rhys was sweating under the gaze of the Weavile and his family.

Thrice.

Finally, the Pokeball righted itself with a ding, and the Weavile retreated to his father's side. Rhys' father stepped forward, his heavy wooden sandals echoing as the man's shadow towered over Rhys.

"Good," his father said. Rhys could hear the smile in his father's voice. "It looks like you've caught your first Pokemon. Now you just have to train her."

Rhys knew that Sneasels had a reputation for having bad attitudes, but before now, he hadn't realized how bad-natured they could really be.

<hr>

Rhys and the Sneasel stood at opposite ends of the room. His ceremonial robes lay tattered on the floor, while her fur was scuffed and her red ear tuft was clipped. The entire room bore the marks of their conflict: gashes in the floor and furniture, dents in the walls and floor. While everything Rhys had crammed into the nooks and crannies of his room came spilling out: children's toys, clothes, books, everything.

They held each other's gaze, inspecting the other for weakness as they circled the room.

The Sneasel disappeared in a flash. Rhys stumbled backward as her feet met his gut, toppling him over. He fell onto the floor, with the Sneasel landing on top of him. Once again triumphant, she held a claw in the air, letting loose a victorious trill.

Rhys breathed heavily as she walked up his body and then sat down on him, straddling his collarbone as she smiled. Rhys sneered back up at her, baring his teeth as she raised a claw. Before she could scratch his face, Rhys grabbed her by the torso. She failed, but he threw her across the room before she could do anything more than land shallow scratches.

Once more, the two of them stood at opposite ends of the room, panting as they prepared to attack. Rhys waited one moment, then two, and as he predicted, the Sneasel vanished in a blur. This time, Rhys moved, throwing out a punch that caught her as she reappeared.

ZThe Sneasel was sent spinning through the air, then bounced as she hit the floor and rolled into a wall. She lay there, catching her breath for a moment, before forcing herself to stand. Rhys and she locked eyes again, each waiting for the other to do something. The Sneasel bared her teeth, running her tongue along them, feeling them until she found a loose tooth ready to fall out. She closed her mouth, tensed her body, sucked on that tooth, and then spat it out, a trail of blood left in its wake. She looked up at him and growled.

Rhys took the first step, and then Sneasel took the second. The two walked towards each other, a fire behind their eyes.

BAM!

Before either could do anything else, the door to the room flew open. The two froze as Rhys' father and Sneasel's father—the Weavile from earlier—stood in the door frame. Rhys' mother was behind them, a tired look on her face.

Both of their fathers sighed.

"We leave you alone for five minutes, and you two are already at each other's throats." Rhys' father said. Beside him, the Weavile growled, clicking his claws together as he looked down at his daughter.

Rhys and the Sneasel wilted as their fathers stepped forward, looming over them. Rhys' mother brushed past her husband and opened a Pokeball. In a flash of red, a Chansey appeared in the wrecked room.

The Chansey blinked as it took in its surroundings. After the initial surprise, she waved to Rhys. For his part, the boy didn't resist as his mother picked him up and sat him down in her lap, commandeering the last surviving chair in the room.

"Chansey," Rhys' mother commanded, spurring the pink blob to action. The large pink Pokemon responded happily, placing its hands together and firing a Heal Pulse at Rhys and then the Sneasel; their scratches and bruises disappeared. The Sneasel felt around her mouth again, feeling where a new tooth was growing.

"Now, Rhys, and you too, Sneasel." His mother said, her pink hair frayed at the edges as she spoke. "Neither of you is going to hurt the other, or else you're in big trouble, understand?" The two nodded, looking down at the battered floor.

"Honey," Rhys' father said.

Rhys' mother looked between her husband and the impatient and angry Weavile and sighed. "Yes." With that said, she sent Chansey back into her Pokeball. Rhys hopped off his mother's lap, landing on the floor with shaky legs as the Sneasel stood up. His mother left the room without comment. Her robes flowed behind her as she closed the door on her way out, leaving the two children to their punishment.

Rhys' father shook his head as he looked away from the door and towards his son. "Rhys Mahogany, do you believe your actions here to be inspiring to me, ennobling to our clan, or in any way honorable?"

Rhys looked down at himself and his tattered robes, then to his father, the Sneasel, the room, the Weavile, and then back to his father. It was so slow his father could practically see the gears turning in his head. "No, Father."

"Then why did you get into a fight with your Pokemon?"

Rhys and the Sneasel spoke, her chirping overlapping his. "She started–"

"I do not care who started it; you should have handled yourself better!"

Rhys flinched back. "Sorry, Father. She was being disobedient and tried to scratch me, so I-"

"I don't want excuses for your behavior either." Rhys' father looked down at the Sneasel, narrowing his eyes.

Rhys held himself back from baring his teeth and speaking. 'I wasn't making an excuse for myself; I was explaining why I did it.' He knew that would only cause his father to talk more.

"Why did you want a Pokemon in the first place? What do you want to do with your life?"

Rhys thought about that for a second, trying to track down the source of his earlier excitement. Clair was constantly talking about the Horsea she got every time they played together, and she was spending less time with Rhys. That and he wanted to impress his father, but he felt admitting that out loud was embarrassing.

"To beat Clair and become a man."

"And?"

There was a beat of silence in the room. Rhys hadn't thought of anything more. 'Does he just want me to say something to make him happy?' He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should speak the truth. "Live a long, quiet life and die peacefully at an old age surrounded by my family?"

His father's eyes narrowed. "Not incorrect, but not sincere. You heard someone say that." He said. His voice had returned to its usual monotone, and his eyes to their usual calm.

Rhys lowered his head. "Yes, Father."

"Well, it didn't work." Rhys went back to looking down at the floor, trying to hide his face as he gritted his teeth.

"And you, Sneasel?"

The Weavile and Rhys' father looked down at her, small even for a Sneasel. Her short red ear twitched with embarrassment. She looked up only for a moment and half-grumbled, half-chirped out something that barely sounded like an apology.

"Clearly, both of you direly need more discipline; perhaps we should throw you two into the ice path immediately. Test your mettle against a real challenge."

Rhys sweated as he kept his head pointed towards the ground, only moving his eyes to see the similarly pale expression of the Sneasel next to him. He didn't dislike the idea; if he could pass the challenge right away, he could prove himself.

The Weavile growled. Rhys didn't know what he said exactly, but it sounded like he was half in agreement.

"Then they'd better shape up. Otherwise, we'll have to make them regret failing us," Rhys' father said. The Weavile father chirped in agreement, causing the Sneasel to wilt even more. Rhys' father folded his hands. "Now, what are you two going to do?"

Rhys stood tall, his voice calm as he spoke. "Sneasel." He had to hide his venom; he hated apologizing more than anything. But the hatred of anything that would offend his pride was dwarfed by his desire for his parents' recognition and his desire to see the outside world. Rhys and Sneasel locked eyes. "I'm sorry, we got off on the wrong foot. You're my Pokemon, and I should treat you with more respect." Then he bowed. His words were insincere and rehearsed, with almost no understanding on either side.

She nodded awkwardly in response, before remembering to bow.

Rhys' father clapped his hands together. "Good first steps are important in matters like these." Rhys could still feel his father's gaze on him, judging, and he silently thanked his father for being merciful. "If you two are going to be partners for life, you might as well figure out how to live with each other. Now, clean up your room, and after that, you have the rest of the day to yourselves. Good day."

Rhys' father turned on the spot and opened the door, exiting the room to leave with his wife, who waited outside. The Weavile lingered a moment longer before closing the door and departing in the direction opposite to Rhys' father.

Now alone, Rhys and Sneasel were left to collect their thoughts.

As he calmed down, embarrassment washed over Rhys, almost smothering his anger before he corrected himself.'Right. I'm not giving up on this; they'll never let me go outside if I can't raise a pokemon!' And of course, for the sake of his own pride. He wanted to see the world, to see pokemon, to win battles, to have more friends than Clair.

Meanwhile, Sneasel was looking back and forth, chattering to herself as she nervously clacked her claws together, her previous vigor gone. Her father had never been so harsh with her, but at the very least her human didn't seem weak. Either way, she had been picked because she was the strongest and smartest. Still, her human seemed kind of dumb even if he was strong.

Rhys and the Sneasel looked at each other; the flame that had been behind each other's eyes earlier had gone, leaving quivering embers. Both of them sighed.

"So, what do you say, partners?" Rhys asked, his voice wavering as he kneeled to offer Sneasel a hand. Sneasel's red ear twitched slightly as she gave him a skeptical look. "Eh? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Sneasel sighed and pranced to where her tooth had fallen. She held up her missing tooth to Rhys.

He hesitated for a moment, but took the tooth from her. Rhys moved to put the tooth on his night stand, but Sneasel jumped up, dragging his hand back down.

Rhys let her close his hand around the tooth, pushing it back to his chest. He felt the tooth in his, after a moment of hesitation, Rhys went to his dresser. He retrieved needle and thread, looping a length of string around the tooth, once, twice, then thrice.

"See," he said, showing the newly made necklace to Sneasel. She nodded and looped it around his neck, the tooth coming to rest over his undershirt. "So, we're good?"

Sneasel nodded her head side to side in a 'so-so' gesture, before meowing reluctantly. As the two of them looked around their room, they came to realize the enormity of their immediate task: repairing, or at least ordering, the disaster zone. If Rhys was going to battle Clair, he'd have to finish cleaning up before the banquet started.

Chapter 2: Rival (3rd Draft)

It had taken Rhys and Sneasel a while to clean up their–formerly his–room, although as Rhys looked out the window, he could see the sun was not yet low. This time, everything was put back where it was supposed to be, mainly because of Sneasel's help. Except for the former chairs, which they had shuffled off into a corner for the servants to clean up later. Rhys did a perusal of the room, making sure nothing was out of place, before he attached Sneasel's Pokeball to his belt.

Rhys smiled widely at the thought of finally having a Pokemon battle against Clair. "Now–Wait, actually, what can you do?" While he knew what moves a Sneasel could do–and that she would have been trained in Agile, Strong, and Shadow Style–This time, better nature prevailed. Him seeing her form normal energy into an extension of her claws to form Scratch attacks, and using it to give herself a sudden boost of speed as a Quick Attack wasn't enough.

Sneasel looked around at the now spotless room and shrugged, as if to ask if he wanted a live demonstration here and now.

"Right." Rhys shook his head before the curiousness of the situation struck him. "Dad always said he could understand his Pokemon fine." He had read about how the bond between Trainer and Pokemon allowed them to understand each other and bring out their full potential. He had seen it with his own parents, but the how, what, and why it happened eluded him. Not knowing how it worked was annoying."I guess we'll just have to get to know each other better. Can you draw?"

Sneasel nodded, and Rhys retrieved a battered notebook and half a pencil from his bookshelf. She quickly went to work, sketching herself performing three moves with accompanying labels. Quick Attack and Scratch–which Rhys already knew both because of common sense and his bruises– a picture of her firing off an ice projectile labeled, 'Ice Shard' and then a picture of black fangs labeled 'bite'. Three more pictures followed, one of a star labeled 'normal', a snowflake labeled 'Ice', and lastly a crescent moon labeled 'Dark'.

Sneasel showed the last two, gathering a mote of Ice Energy in one hand and Dark Energy in the other. All Rhys could see was her impeccable penmanship. Pretty much all pokemon could manipulate Normal Energy in some form, and Sneasel was a Dark and Ice type, so the others didn't surprise him either. In comparison, a Pokemon being able to write so well, and with only two fingers, was rare. The only thing he could think of was rarer.

"You can write?"

Sneasel rolled her eyes, dismissing the two mores of Energy. Still, she nodded and smiled proudly at his praise, writing 'yes' on the open notebook.

"Alright." Satisfied, Rhys sprang up, taking the notebook with him. Before Sneasel could properly complain, he had already shoved it into a backpack. "Come on, now we're gonna go find Clair." Without another word, Rhys broke into a sprint.

Sneasel bounded after him, closing the door before breaking out into a four-legged sprint. Sneasel used Quick Attack again, appearing beside Rhys in a flash. After that–for the first time–Rhys was accompanied by one other as he ran through the halls, Sneasel keeping pace even half his height with half his stride.

Rhys rushed through the halls of his family's mansion, brushing past nameless, faceless servants. Orderly, servers, and guards dressed in all black. Until he rounded a corner, and somebody emerged directly in his path. Rhys closed his eyes and braced for impact, but instead of running into the figure, a hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him back.

"Hello, nephew."

Rhys recognized the voice immediately. "Uncle Koga!" Rhys turned to see his other uncle standing between him and Sneasel. For her part, Sneasel had taken a step back and into a fighting position as soon as she realised Koga had appeared between them. "Hi, Uncle Koga, are you leaving? Where's–?"

"Janine's home with her mother, and yes, I am leaving," Koga said, stepping out from between the two. He cast a suspicious glance at Sneasel as she bounded to Rhys' side. " I see you have made better terms with your Pokemon?"

"Yeah, we–" Rhys stopped, cutting himself off. "Oh, right? Have you seen Claire, Uncle?"

Koga nodded. "Last I saw her, she was in the courtyard, but before you go," Koga reached into his robes, retrieving a book. "I want you to have this. I would have given it to you after the banquet, but I'm needed in Fuschia City."

Rhys took the book with both hands as Sneasel scampered back to his side. The book was bound in leather, with a hand-drawn cover and the title: 'Koga's Survival Manual: Remedies and Poisons'. Rhys already has some wilderness survival training, but he always appreciates something new to read.

Rhys smiled up at his uncle wordlessly before bolting down the hall again. "Thanks, Uncle!" he said, shoving the book into his backpack.

Sneasel disappeared in a flash, appearing on all fours beside him.

"You're welcome, Rhys," Koga said, smiling as his nephew ran towards the courtyard.

When the pair arrived, Rhys slowed down as he approached the door to the courtyard, and before he knew it, a knot of anticipation had curled in his gut. Rhys stopped in front of the great double doors, taking in a large breath before putting his hands on them, Sneasel joining him. Then, in tandem, they flung the doors open, familiar cold air washing in as Clair was revealed. She smiled at him, her blue hair blowing in the wind, her golden eyes shining, and she made a show of crossing her arms as her cape fluttered behind her.

"I was waiting for you to come. Lance said you'd be here!"

Not waiting a moment, Rhys stepped into the courtyard. This was where they had spent countless afternoons playing at being Pokemon trainers around the pond or in between the trees, then six months ago, Clair had turned ten and received her Horsea. A silent gap had formed in those six months between them. She had sat at the adults' table when their families met; she had been busy raising her Horsea, and the two had not even seen each other for the past two months. Two months where I didn't have a single friend in the whole wide world. Now, they were once again equals.

Rhys took Sneasel's Pokeball from his belt–despite the fact Sneasel was beside him–and pointed it at Clair. "I challenge you to a Pokemon battle!"

The youngest Blackthorn child stood there for a moment, smiling back at Rhys, before answering: "No!"

Sneasel face-palmed.

"Nuh-uh, we're supposed to have a Pokemon battle. I'll show your Horsea why Ice types always beat Dragons!"

Clair looked away, smiling. "I don't know." She dragged out the last syllable, as if to bait Rhys.

Rhys crossed his arms. "If you don't fight me, I'll get Lance." Beside him, Sneasel tugged on his robes

Despite his threat, the grin on Clair's face spread even wider. "Well... how about this: I'll fight you? BUT! If I win, you have to do what I say!"

"Fine." Besides him, Sneasel's face palmed with her other hand as he retrieved her into his Pokeball.

"Three."

"Two."

"One."

"Sneasel!" "Go! Growlithe!"

On cue, both threw out their Pokeballs, Sneasel's black and Growlithe's orange, flying before spitting out their respective Pokeballs. Although not even a moment later, Rhys realized what was wrong.

"Hey, that's cheating!" Rhys said, pointing an accusing finger at Clair as Sneasel–stone-faced–stood across from Growlithe.

Clair flipped her cape behind her, causing it to catch on the wind. "No one said I had to use Horsea, besides, Uncle Giovanni got me Growlithe as a present!"

Rhys sweated. He had planned on beating her Horsea, but now that had gone out the window with Clair's elemental advantage. A flash of panic crossed his mind, and he said the only thing he could think of. "Sneasel, hide! Agile Style!"
"Growlithe, find her!"

Clair and Rhys broke out into a run, trying their best to keep up as Growlithe left a trail of fire in his wake. "Sneasel! If you can avoid Growlithe and attack from the shadows, we'll win through attrition."

Growlithe ran into the mess of trees, keeping his nose in the air as he tried to sniff out Sneasel. Sneasel disappeared whenever he got too close, looking for a good angle of attack. Still, she could only keep consistently ahead using Agile Style, allowing her to perform Quick Attack faster and boosting her speed.

The one problem was her stamina; although she was more physically inclined, she was still young, and there was only so much strain and pressure her body could take as she went faster and faster, zipping between trees. Eventually, one way or another, her body would give out.

"Sneasel, Ice Shard!"

Growlithe passed in between the trees, and a bullet of ice flew in between the branches. Rhys smiled, but Growlithe spat out a puff of flame to destroy the bullet.

Sneasel's only ranged move was Ice Shard, which would barely scratch Growlithe. No matter if she was fast or not, she needed to get in close to deal any damage. Still, the puff of steam created by the

Rhys jumped over a tree root. "Yes, now! Quick Attack! Shadow Style!"

Sneasel burst forth from the black of the forest, white Normal Type Energy coating her claw as it honed in on Growlithe. The fighting technique only known to Ninjas that allowed them to transfer stored momentum into a single spark that'd ignite the elemental energy on contact, shredding through any defenses and multiplying the output.

Sneasel already vanished, and her foot impacted Growlithe's face. "Now, smoke ball!" Clair said.

Sneasel's eyes widened as the smoke ball around Growlithe's neck exploded into a plume of smoke that choked the forest.

"Sneasel! Where are you?!" The puff of smoke completely engulfed the forest, preventing either Clair or Rhys from going any further. All the while, she could only struggle in confusion as the thick plume of smoke surrounded her.

"Strength style! Flame Wheel!" Clair said.

Growlithe exploded into flames, sending the smoke in every direction as it reared up. Sneasel reflexively moved a hand to cover her eyes. Either way, she didn't have time to react as Growlithe slammed into her. The flames washed over them both. Her eyes shot open, she yowled in pain, and used Quick Attack on reflex.

When she reappeared in the canopy, she was bruised all over, and her tail feathers were singed. One hit from Growlithe already did so much damage, and even without that, Sneasel was feeling the exhaustion from relying on Quick Attack.

"Sneasel, follow me! I have an idea!" The pond at the edge of the trees was just big enough, and Rhys could remember how its perimeter rose to a small cliff that sat just on the other side of the trees. Years earlier, he hadn't been careful and ended up getting himself hurt when he fell off the edge. Even if Growlithe had the elemental advantage, it wouldn't do him or Clair any good if they were underwater. Rhys and Sneasel could still win this.

"Growlithe! Switch to Agile Style, she's not getting away!"

"Sneasel, Agile Style Quick Attack. Get away!"

Sneasel disappeared again, but Growlithe was older, more experienced, and had better training. Growlithe wasn't as fast as Sneasel, but it was more consistent, not having to rely on using Quick Attack or the exhaustion the move caused.

Rhys and Clair ran through the forest across from each other, with their Pokemon in between. Despite the dire situation, this was the best chance for victory in Rhys' mind, and Clair–unintentionally–was corralling their Pokemon towards the pond.

Sneasel flung another ice shard back at Growlithe as she fled, trying to keep him away as long as she could. But as Growlithe closed in, they were already close enough to the ponds for Rhys. As Sneasel, followed shortly thereafter by Growlithe, exited the patch of woods, he yelled:

"Now! Strong Style Quick Attack! Get Growlithe in the water!"

In a flash, Sneasel turned around, appeared behind Growlithe's head, and grabbed onto him. Growlithe struggled, but it was already off balance, flailing as Sneasel wrestled it over the edge. Sneasel tried to Quick Attack away.

"Sneasel!"

"Growlithe!"

SPLASH!

But Growlithe dug its fangs in, causing Sneasel to howl as they fell into the pond.
A splash of water was sent into the air, blinding Clair and Rhys as Growlithe landed headfirst, its head bumping the shallowness of the pond. The water turned to steam as it hit Growlithe, burning the Pokemon. Sneasel tried to escape but flinched as Growlithe bit down. Sneasel flashed her claws out, scratching at Growlithe. But it didn't let go even as its eyes were scratched.

The two were trashed in the water, Sneasel trying to escape as the situation had turned on her, but Growlithe's hold weakened as the water burned it. Now, it is helped by Sneasel's attacks. All the while, Clair and Rhys looked on, neither confident in who was winning the battle.

"Growlithe, get out of the water!"

Growlithe shot out of the water, still holding onto Sneasel.

THUD!

He landed on the hard ground. Sneasel swiped at him again, and finally, Growlithe let go, flinging Sneasel in Rhys' direction. Sneasel skidded across the ground, landing at Rhys' feet.

Rhys clenched his hands, anger and shame crawling underneath his skin. He looked down at Sneasel as she got back up, and their eyes met. Sneasel managed one last huff before collapsing. Rhys' Pokeball activated automatically, recalling Sneasel in a flash of red before she could hit the floor.

"I won, that means–!"

Clair's cry of victory was cut off as Growlithe fainted, recalled to his Pokeball.

"Growlithe!" Clair flinched back, her haughty expression disappearing as she and Rhys were left standing across from each other.

Rhys' expression was unreadable for a moment, then it twisted as he tightened his grasp of Sneasel's Pokeball. Rage, anger, a boiling sensation under his skin, embarrassment like countless knives pressing against his skin. He hated it; he hated losing; he hated being made a fool of. Childish, indignant emotions rose inside him as he locked eyes with Clair.

She took a step back before regaining her composure. "Sneasel fainted first, so I won!" She said, flaring her cape out. "That means you have to do what I say!"

"No! You cheated, you were supposed to use Horsea!"

"Nuh, uh! You never said I had to, and Growlithe was a gift. He's my Pokemon too! I take care of him, and–!"

Rhys turned and ran towards the forested areas.

"Hey, come back!" Clair yelled again, stumbling behind Rhys, not able to keep up as her resolve failed her. Rhys continued running as Clair slowed behind him, her voice calling out. "Hey, get back here! You're supposed to do as I say."

Rhys ran in between the trees. He ran until he found himself at the edge of the woods, where the courtyard met the mansion wall. Unable to run any further, Rhys climbed up a tree, claiming a branch for his own as anger turned into sadness.

"I'm sorry." Tears welled in the corner of Sneasel's eyes as he held her Pokeball close to his chest, right next to the tooth necklace he had made. He had lost, not only that, but he had lost to a ninja trick like a smoke ball. His childish hatred had cooled, and then melted into tears that ran down his face. He could still feel the prickling of embarrassment beneath his skin, strengthened by his poor sportsmanship, creeping further across his body as he bemoaned his lack of self-control.

He stayed there, eyes closing, consciousness drifting off as exhaustion took him.

When he opened his eyes, the shadows had lengthened, and the forest had darkened. It had only seemed like a moment to Rhys, and all at once, embarrassment crept up on him as he realized how he might have worried Clair. That was when a voice intruded into his silence.

"Hey, kid, you okay?"

Rhys jolted up in surprise, looking down to see Lance, leaning against the trunk of the tree, the dragon trainer's gold eyes meeting his brown.

"Go away, Lance," Rhys said, sniffling.

Lance shook his head. "Look, Clair won't say it, but she's really sorry. She didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Let's get going before anyone else notices you're hiding, the banquet's going to be soon."

Rhys nodded, happy Clair had only gotten Lance, and dropped to the forest floor, attaching Sneasel's Pokeball to his belt in the next moment. Lance took the lead out of the patch of forest, and Rhys replayed the battle back in his mind.

He had only failed to notice the smoke ball, but it had been what barely caused him to lose; going for the pond was still the right choice. The only problem was those six months of training Growlithe and Clair had over him and Sneasel. If not for that, it would have at least been a draw. Though as he thought back to his battle, one question came to mind. "Who's Giovanni?"

"Just one of dad's friends, he's like an extra Uncle."

"Will he give me a Pokemon if I ask?"

"Well, I don't know about that," Lance said, almost laughing. "How about you just stick with the one for now? Clair is already having trouble taking care of Growlithe and Horsea. How about we go find your mom, or another one of the Pokemon Breeders, they can heal your Sneasel up?"

Rhys nodded in agreement.

When the pair returned, a teary-eyed Clair rose to meet Rhys from the bank of the pond. They hugged, although neither knew really why, before being ushered by Lance to the Pokemon Breeders to heal their Pokemon. Shortly after, Rhys' mother came to collect them for the banquet.

<hr>

It was Rhys's first time sitting at the adults' table, although he could hardly be considered an adult. On one side of him, Sneasel sat–clumsily holding a fork between her claws–while on his other was Clair. The two had talked little in between then and now, both due to embarrassment and their childishness.

The dinner itself didn't help; despite being the first and only son of the Mahogany clan, his banquet was notably less lavish and smaller than the one held for Clair's tenth birthday. Rhys hadn't even been able to count how many people were at Clair's
In contrast, the attendants to his were his mother and father. Clair, Lance, and their parents. Uncle Pryce. Some other friends. Their head Pokemon breeder was a good friend of his mother, but he could never remember her name. Even with his Uncle Koga, that would have only been thirteen people. Rhys wasn't blind; he wasn't deaf either. He saw the diminishing numbers of the servants; he heard their whispers. He knew why his parents were always so busy, as well.

Besides that, his lack of friends aside from Clair annoyed him. His parents, in their protectiveness of their only child, rarely allowed him outside. Although much to their horror, his ninja training combined with the lack of guards meant Rhys' ability to escape had only increased.

"Rhys?"

He ignored her, grumbling to himself as he fiddled with his food.

"Rhys!" Clair whispered.

"Huh?" Rhys said, turning to the pouting Clair beside him.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

Clair folded her arms again and gave him a sour face.

"Fine, I'm thinking how I'm gonna beat you next time," Rhys said, doing his best to smile. Of course, the most immediate thought Rhys had was to get a Pokemon with an elemental advantage. The only problem with that is he didn't know how to raise a water type, nor did his family have the facilities for one.

Clair stuck out her tongue at him, before a chuckle from Lance caused her to stop. "Well, you did really well, Rhys, but I won't lose next time."

From beside Rhys, Sneasel chattered something before sticking her tongue out at Clair in turn. Both Clair and Rhys giggled that time.

"Anyway, Mom and Dad took me to see the Safari Zone in Fuschia City. We saw tons of cool new Pokemon there. Have your parents taken you?"

"No, they never let me outside."

"Really, isn't Mister Koga your uncle?" His father's cousin, to be more precise, although neither was aware of the exact relation.

Rhys crossed his arms. "I told you they never let me outside."

"No, they don't. You've been to our house and in town before."

"Yeah, but rarely. That's why I don't have any friends besides you."

Clair smiled, full of pride as she crossed her arms, once again imitating Lance. "Well, I'll just have to make up for it then. I'll be your rival and your best friend."

Rhys looked away, pouting. "It's not like anyone is competing."

Beside Rhys, Sneasel spoke up and poked him in the side. Rhys moved away, but she pointed towards the necklace he wore around his neck before chattering something at Clair.

"Oh yeah," Clair said, ignoring Sneasel's message. "What about you, Sneasel–?"

Sneasel cut her off, gesturing at her with a fork. Clair tilted her head and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense." She looked at Rhys, but received the same reaction.

Sneasel chattered something back, while Rhys and Clair slipped back into the routine of conversation. Although the Banquet has started to wind down.

After the banquet, it was finally time for Rhys' other presents. A Pokebed from the head Pokemon breeder. Lance had gotten him Pokeballs, Repels, and some miscellaneous Pokemon supplies. Pryce had gotten him a new backpack and a new Pokemon encyclopedia that had come out recently, apparently it was from one of his Uncle's friends, but Rhys didn't give that any mind. Clair–or rather her parents–had gotten him a new set of robes and a new set of sketching supplies. There were a handful of smaller gifts, simple toys and trinkets he didn't give any mind to.

Although eventually, Clair and Lance had to leave.

When they exited to the front yard where the Pokemon Stables were, the Blackthorns quickly took the back of two Dragonites. Rhys waved up to Clair and Lance. "Bye!"

"Bye, Rhys!" She called down, her and Lance's capes flapping in the wind.

Rhys smiled up at her, clutching her tooth necklace in one hand. "We'll beat you next time!" Although he couldn't make out what Clair said next, it sounded suspiciously like, 'no, you won't'. Rhys nodded, smiling to himself.

Rhys stood there, watching the Blackthorns as they disappeared on dragon back, even as his parents both turned on their heels and headed in separate directions. Rhys stayed, stayed and watched, smiling as the Blackthorns were followed up the cloud. Since the banquet, an idea had been fermenting in his mind, a plan to impress Clair and his parents. Sneasel tapped his leg with the back of her claw.

"Just a little longer," Rhys said, staring up into the cloud, as if his gaze alone would cause the gray sky to part for the midnight canvas with its countless, countless stars.

Behind him, one of the guards grumbeled something he couldn’t make out.

"Huh?" Rhys turned his head to a guard.

The guard and his companion stood at attention, the one other one shooting a nasty glare at the offending nameless, faceless guard. "Ah, sorry, my young lord, I–I was just saying how sad that we couldn't see the night sky tonight."

"Yeah."

Beside him, Sneasel grumbled something, glaring at the guards.

Rhys shrugged. "Tell my parents, I'm going to bed early," He said, taking Sneasel's hand. "Come on, Sneasel." He left the guards, trusting the ninja to do their job. As soon as he left the pair, the guiltless one hit his nameless, faceless comrade on the back of his head.

When the two arrived, Sneasel's Pokebed was already placed at the foot of Rhys' bed. The boy ignored that for now as Sneasel pouted. Quickly, he retrieved his notebook, writing his thoughts. Clair and Growlithe had given him some ideas for training that he wanted to try out. Sneasel tapped her foot against the floor, but Rhys continued to ignore her, putting the notebook on his bookshelf. Changing clothes in a flash–as a ninja ought to do–Sneasel rolled her eyes, taking the pokebed and throwing it onto Rhys' bed.

"Hey," Rhys said as he turned back around, seeing the pokebed. Sneasel shrugged, jumping up and lying down onto it in defiance of Rhys.

Rhys picked the bed up with Sneasel inside, placing it on the floor despite her yowl of protest, before lying down.

Sneasel threw the Pokebed onto him before huffing and putting her hands on her hips.

Rhys crossed his arms. "Fine, but if I roll on top of you in my sleep, it's your fault." He rolled over, knocking Sneasel's pokes into the wall as he closed his eyes.

Sneasel rolled her eyes and climbed back up.

The accommodations were hardly comfortable for either of them. Still, despite the discomfort, the pair eventually drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 3: Riceball (Draft 1)

Sneasel's eyes shot open as she was thrown from the bed, righting herself midair as she–and her pokebed–were flung across the room. She disappeared, landing on Rhys' dresser as she saw him land on the floor. Sneasel growled at him, only to be ignored as Rhys–Her human–grabbed his backpack and began shoving things into it. Sneasel stamped her foot down, demanding his attention with another growl.

Rhys nodded, picking up Sneasel's pokeball from where it had fallen. "Come on, Sneasel. I have a plan." Rhys pressed down, opening the pokeball and firing a red beam of light at Sneasel, only for her to bat it away and growl, putting her claws on her hips.

Rhys set his backpack down, crossing his arms. "Fine, but if I tell you, then you have to come with."

Sneasel rolled her eyes and gestured for him to continue, agreeing to nothing.

Rhys took that as agreement. "Mom and dad don't trust me, they almost never let me go outside, but Clair gets to go all over the place, meet new people, and get cool pokemon!", lowering his voice, he continued. "We're gonna cross the Ice Path and then surprise Clair. If we can do that, they have to acknowledge me."

Sneasel looked at him flatly, wondering if he was somehow dumber than she first assumed.

"It's not dangerous. I've been to the Ice Path before, Dad took me up it once, to Blackthorn city, and I have a map." Rhys pulled a book out of his backpack, splaying it open to reveal a map of the Ice Path. "As long as we follow the path, we'll get there really quickly!" He said, pointing to a red path.

Sneasel raised a two-fingered hand to her face as she pursued a map. She counted two times six tunnels that weren't mapped, only marked as existing, and then looked back down at Rhys, raising an eyebrow.

"Come on, Sneasel! Please."

She jumped down from his dresser and walked over to him, taking a pencil and notebook from his backpack. She flipped it open, the pencil becoming a blur in her hand. 'What do I get?'

Rhys reached into his backpack, picking out the book on Sneasel Hubsandry. His mind raced as he flipped through the book, going over every fact he had ever learned about Sneasels. Finally, he landed on a page. "I'll even get a Sharp Claw from the Ice Path for you." He turned the book to her, showing the image of a shrine, several diagrams of Sneasel's showing the physical traits to look for, and which behaviors showed it was ready for evolution. Accompanied by a list of known locations for Sharp Claws, the Ice Path is listed among them. Although, as far as Rhys could tell, Sneasel was still too short to become a Weavile, even with her impressive strength for her age. Aside from, of course, having none of the other traits that she would show if she were ready to evolve. She was too short, the coloring of her fur hadn't darkened, and she hadn't begun budding any new feathers. She was a female after all, and they had shorter feathers, with a duller coloring, that did not grow in as fast or bud as early; in other words, the traits of a female Sneasel meant that they evolved later than the males. Either way, it was a balancing act; evolve too early and a Sneasel's growth is stunted, too late and the Evolution wouldn't have as pronounced an effect. Still, despite knowing this, Rhys ambition and restlessness took precedence. "Besides, you can impress your dad, too."

Sneasel paused at that last part as she weighed her options. Most wild Sneasels would never evolve. Sharp Claws were, and what sources of them did exist were closely guarded by the Mahogany clan, or in the claws of a wild pack of Sneasels, of which only the strongest would get the chance to evolve. Sure, she'd get to evolve anyway if she waited, but at the same time, she didn't necessarily have to evolve even if she took a Sharp Claw. Sneasel clicked her claws together, and she warmed up to the idea. 'Yes,' she thought to herself, she didn't need to evolve. She could just keep it, as a trophy, and use it when the right time came. Her old man would have to respect her as well; she didn't rightfully understand why he didn't either. As far as she was concerned, all of her siblings were defective failures who weren't worthy of the position she had been granted–even if her human was a bit dim–so by that logic, her–his one successful child–should naturally receive more of his attention compared to them.

Besides, she could have her human use the Sharp Claw in a necklace. It would match–somewhat–with Rhys having one of her former teeth as a necklace. There was the issue that her father or her human's parents wouldn't approve, but. . .

Sneasel clicked her claws together, failing to find an excuse. She grabbed her head and flopped onto the floor, rolling around. She knew it was a bad idea; she KNEW it, regardless of what they thought, she wanted to leave as well. She wanted to leave, she wanted to evolve, she wanted to be stronger, she wanted thumbs, and most of all, she wanted to be acknowledged.

Reluctantly, Sneasel rose from the floor and reached for the pencil: 'Fine. I'll go.'

"Great, follow me. We'll grab something to eat from the kitchen and then vault off the walls."

Rys smiled, clapping the Sneasel book in his hand shut. Sneasel joined him in packing, making sure they could fit everything: books, a handful of pokeballs, Repels, Smoke Balls, and some miscellaneous supplies. Sneasel paused as she saw the picture of the Sneaseler on the back of Rhys' Sneasel raising guide, contrasting the Weavile and Sneasel side by side on the cover, then she put it in the pack.

The only thing they were missing now was some food; it didn't have to be a lot, but both were hungry.

As Rhys slung his backpack on, Sneasel jumped up and clambered onto his shoulder. The two shared a nod before Rhys climbed up into his window frame.

The cold night air greeted them, dawn still an hour away. Below, the mansion complex was asleep as always, and above, the sky had turned from a listless gray to a pitch-black, with only pinprick stars poking through the black clouds. They reminded Rhys of candles, or eyes behind curtains and in between planks of wood.

He took a deep breath.

Both had received training since the moment of their birth. Rhys is to be a ninja and to succeed his father. Sneasel is to be the ideal pokemon for the Heir to the Mahogany Family. Now, after a lifetime spent inside the mansion, they were finally going to put those skills to use escaping and prove to everyone they had to be taken seriously.

<hr>

Elsewhere, one of the mansion's guards, a ninja, smiled as he leaned against the mansion wall. Like all the Ninjas of the Mahogany Clan, the nameless guard was clad head to toe in midnight blue, although on this occasion, he had let his head covering drop, exposing his skeletal face, drooping eyes, and bald head. While he was in full uniform, he was just another faceless guard, a second-rate ninja, but right now he was just Petrel.

Next to him, he had propped up both his katana and his rifle against the wall, while his sleepy Murkrow was perched atop it. Petrel reached out a hand, petting it, which the Murkrow responded to with a series of soft coos.

Just moments ago, it had delivered Petrel its report on Rhys, the little heir had flipped out of his window, grabbed onto the overhanging roof, swung atop it, before parkouring down to a lower level and ducking into a window just like Petrel had given Murkrow a handful of berries for going to him first, instead of telling Lord Mahogany.

"So, what do you think we should do, Murkrow? Tell Lord Mahogany we let his brat escape, or how about we go grab him right now?" The Murkrow ruffled its feathers, turning away from Petrel with disinterest, but not moving away from his touch. "If we do grab him later, then we don't necessarily have to return him, or his Pokemon." Petrel shook his head and sighed. "But it's not like we have any buyers, it might be more convenient to stage a wild pokemon attack."

Murkow huffed, rebuffing him.

Petrel chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Right, right. I know you don't care about this sort of thing." His hand left Murkrow, and Petrel redid his face covering, once again becoming a faceless, nameless ninja.

"Oh well, I'll let the kid go," the nameless man shook his head, "After all, I'm a nice sort of guy."

<hr>

Rhys dropped to a lower level before creeping his way to the edge of the roof, Sneasel beside him, and the chill air against them both as they crept their way to the edge of the roof. Then, in a single movement, they dropped off, grabbed onto the edge, and swung themselves through a window. The pair landed in the corridor with a thud before scrambling up into the rafters. Initial escape from his room was the hardest part; any number of servants of pokemon could see him outside, while hidden in the rafters. There was also the fact that both wanted to grab before leaving, so a trip to the kitchens was a must.

Extra cautious, Rhys took off his backpack, laying it atop one of the rafters, secure in the knowledge that the shadows would hide it while Sneasel continued forward, opening the door to the kitchen.

The two quickly went to work, opening cabinets and pursuing ingredients. Neither of them wanted something un-tasty, but more importantly, whatever they chose had to be easy to prepare or already made. It was then that Rhys heard Sneasel yelp. "Have you found anything?"

"Sneasel?" Rhys asked, shutting a cabinet, turned to see what had grabbed her attention, then he froze, sitting on the countertop was his mother's Glaceon, her icy blue eyes staring back at them. Both troublemakers felt the temperature of the room drop slightly as Glaceon stood on all fours.

Both troublemakers jumped back. Glaceon rolled her eyes in response, drawing out a long sigh.

"Ah, we were just–"

Glaceon ignored him, jumping off the counter and onto a barrel of rice, stamping on its top once.

"Ah." Rhys hesitated, and Glaceon stamped on the tub again. "Are you going to help us get snacks?"

Glaceon nodded to him before stamping atop the tub again. Rhys followed her lead, walking over to it and opening the barrel after she jumped back to the countertop.

"Rice, but–"

A yip from Glaceon cut him off. She jumped to another countertop, retrieving a cookbook. Sneasel and Rhys followed her, watching as she opened the book with her mouth and front paws before flipping to the page for rice balls.

Glaceon nodded before jumping up to the nook above the shelves. Sneasel followed her up to the tubs placed on top of the cabinets–far out of the reach of any children–and she followed Glaceon, who grabbed onto one of the tub handles with her mouth. Soon, they had taken down all eight tubs, placing them onto the kitchen island that dominated the center of the room; each of them labeled for their respective berry type: Wiki, Kappa, Aspear, Lansat, Rawst, Oran, Sitrus, and Lum.
As the two did that, Rhys had been following the directions, measuring out the correct amount of rice into a bowl. Once that was done, he took it to the sink, turning the tap on so he could wash the rice, making sure to be as fast and thorough as he could so the rice wouldn't absorb too much of the water. It barely even took a minute, but as he lifted the bowl–now drained of water–a tired voice and the creaking of a door intruded on their silence.

"Young lord?" Rhys turned on his heel to see the servant's eyes widen slightly before contracting as she saw the open tubs of berries. "Ah, young lord. If you wanted something to eat, you could have ordered us–"

"No, it's okay, we have it handled," Rhys said.

The servant nodded as she scanned the room, seeing the Glaceon, "Then I will leave you, sir." The servant bowed and cast a pitying glance towards Glaceon. "You two, Lady."

Rhys nodded even though the comment wasn't addressed to him.

Either way, he poured the short-grain rice into the stovetop pot and turned on the heat. "Sneasel, I'm going to need your help, but can you also keep an eye on the rice since I'll be doing most of the work?"

Sneasel nodded, grumbling something rude, but Rhys ignored her as he walked to the kitchen island.

He could tell from the look in Glaceon's eyes that she was judging him. This was some sort of test.

Rhys hesitated, wishing he had the Sneasel husbandry and Uncle Koga's book open in front of him right now. He reached towards the tub of Oran berries but hesitated. Oran was common, and what people typically thought of when they thought of berries, like how most people thought of apples when they thought of fruit. But they were very generic; most pokemon liked them, but no specific species of pokemon preferred them.

The problem was, he didn't know what Sneasel preferred. Rhys bit his lip. He guessed he just had to go off of his intuition and what he remembered from his lessons. His hands hovered over the tubs for a moment before he grabbed a Wiki berry.

He had eaten one once; it had a smooth texture but was too dry and salty for his palate. He couldn't remember what its properties were, but he did remember a tutor telling him it was a common berry of choice for wild Dark types. Glaceon nodded and put the lid back on as he deposited the wiki berry into the mixing bowl.

Beside them, Sneasel was impatiently tapping a foot against the island countertop.

Next was Lansat from one of the smaller tubs. This one, he didn't have any experience with, but he knew it was a rare berry type, given how it only grew in certain mountainous environments. Other than that, he knew it was renowned for its spice, saltiness, and how it increased the volatility of a pokemon's type energy, a trait which Shadow style took full advantage of in its piercing attacks.

After Glaceon covered that tub, Rhys had the far easier task of choosing his own filling, picking out the two sweetest options they had on hand–Iapapa and Aspear berries.

After that, Glaceon guided him to the mortar and pestle. First went in the Lansat berry, ground into a fine paste before being moved to a small dish. He repeated the process for the Iapapa berry before sliding the Wiki and Aspear berry to Sneasel.

"Can you crack this open?"

Sneasel nodded, raising a claw high in the air–

CRACK!

She slashed down, fracturing the hard shell of the Aspear Berry, but not breaking it. Sneasel snarled and raised another claw in the air.

CRACK!

Twice, then, with a flash of normal type energy. The hard outer shell split open to reveal the soft yellow flesh of the berry. The split only ran halfway along the berry, but Rhys took it with both hands, cradling the berry so as not miss any of the juices.

When he had gotten it above the pestle, he pushed his gloved thumbs into the crack. He held the berry tightly, forcing his thumbs deeper in as he pulled it apart.

CRACK!

A final crack heralded the berry splitting open, its juices and loose insides falling into the mortar. Rhys followed up with a spoon, rooting out the rest of the insides before going to work with the mortar, grinding the berries' insides into a thin, wet paste. He added the Kappa berry pasta back into the mortar before going at it with his hands, pressing the berry paste together and mixing it. When he was done, he put the yellowish berry paste mixture into a small serving bowl.

When he finally turned to Sneasel. She was scowling at him with her arms crossed. Only then did Rhys realize he had prioritized his own snack over hers. "Ah, sorry, Sneasel." He wasn't really sorry, but he figured it was better to apologize.

She rolled her eyes at him, picking the Wiki berry he had given her in one hand–

"Sneasel!"

–Before shoving it into her mouth.

Crack!

Rhys stumbled back as an explosion of Dark-type energy clouded his vision. Rhys held up his hands, and as the blackness cleared, he saw Sneasel standing there, the cracked-open Wiki berry still in her mouth as its dark purple juices ran down her face. Beside her, Glaceon looked amused. Rhys blinked, confused, before he realized what had happened. Her mood was so foul that when she had collected dark type energy in her mouth to bite down into the berry–breaking its hard shell–the volatile cursed energy exploded, unleashing a smoke screen and multiplying the force.

Sneasel walked over to the pestle, spitting the Wiki berry into it with a wet and hard sound, hard bits of shell mixed with soft innards.

Rhys picked out the bits of shell before repeating what he had done with the Iappa and Aspear berry, forming a paste that he transferred to a serving bowl.

Glaceon chirped, nodding at Rhys with approval. Rhys smiled, and Sneasel rolled her eyes again, jumping off the kitchen island to the countertop next to the stove. When she took the lid off the pot, steam rose up from the cooked rice.

The next part was the easiest, now that they had the rice and the paste, Rhys could begin molding the rice balls. First, he wetted both hands and took a pinch of salt in each, rubbing them together to make sure none of the rice stuck to him. Then it was a mechanical process: take a small handful of rice in one hand, add some paste, add some rice on top of that, then shape and mold until he had a triangular-shaped mass of rice with some paste in the middle. After he was done with each rice ball, he placed them on the other cutting board where the seaweed wraps lay. Sneasel clumsily suited each one of them up with her two-fingered hands, marking which was which with the leftover paste.

When they were finally done, Rhys smiled down at the eight pairs of four rice balls. Glaceon smiled at the two, purring with approval before jumping on one of the covered tubs. Only then did Rhys realise there weren't any rice balls for her.

"Sorry, we didn't think of you at all."

Glaceon rolled her eyes before jumping over to one of the opened tubs of berries, picking out an Oran berry, and biting into it. Rhys laughed, and then finally he and Sneasel each picked out one of their respective rice balls.

"Sour!" Rhys said, his eyes sparkling.

Next to him, Sneasel kept her mouth shut, savouring the spicy-sweet flavour of hers.

Glaceon smiled before bidding Rhys and Sneasel's attention from their half-eaten rice balls with a yip. She hopped over to one of the remaining ice balls, pressing her head against it and focusing Ice-type Energy. It wasn't any particular move, just a focusing of energy, a small chill spreading over the rice ball.

Glaceon looked to Sneasel expectantly, stamping a foot. Sneael shoved the last of her rice ball into her mouth before following Glaceon's example reluctantly. As she did that, Glaceon jumped beneath the counter, retrieving one or two boxes, each just big enough to hold Rhys and Sneasel's three rice balls.

Rhys got the message, putting the rice balls away before tying the boxes shut. The concentrated Ice-type energy would make the rice balls last a little longer, and Glaceon didn't want them to eat too many at once. It had been a bit frightening at first, but at least they had passed her test.

Glaceon nodded at them–and took another Oran berry–before jumping off the counter. She opened the door with a nudge of her head before looking back at Rhys and Sneasel.

Rhys bowed to Glaceon. "Thank you." Beside him, Sneasel reluctantly nodded.

Glaceon shook her head, disappearing out the kitchen door. When it finally turned shut beside her, Rhys turned to Sneasel.

"That was my mom's Glaceon. How do you know her?"

Sneasel stood her claws on the countertop as if they were two pairs of legs, then she bumped them together, followed by her interlocking her claws. When she opened her hands again, she pointed towards herself.

Rhys tilted his head, looking at her, confused.

Sneasel shook her head, and Rhys shrugged reluctantly. Either way, they had acquired their snacks, now it was time to escape–after, of course, Rhys and Sneasel packed up their rice balls, took a small bunch of Oran berries, some preserved eggs, and cleaned up their mess–And there weren't any guards in sight.

Rhys and Sneasel returned to the rafters, retrieving his backpack and shoving their packed away rice balls inside. After that, the rest of their journey was short, avoiding the servants was easy or unneeded as Rhys and Sneasel passed through the halls, working their way to the outer wall.

Finally, when he made it to the window that adjoined the exterior wall, he repeated his stunt from earlier, flipping himself onto the roof with Sneasel in tow. From there, he kicked off the roof, launching himself up onto the wall. He grabbed onto its edge with one hand, then two, pulling himself up onto the battlements before dropping onto the wall's walkway.

He looked over the edge: It was a ten-foot drop from the top of the wall down to the shallow dry moat that surrounded Mahogany City. If they failed here, all they'd end up with is some broken bones and a humiliating week spent recuperating, and unlike earlier, they wouldn't be able to weasel their way out of it. Rhys shook his head, returning himself to the moment instead of fears of failure.

Whatever happened, their only chance of victory here was the trees just on the other side of the moat. In decades past, they would have been trimmed and removed, but with the peace of the last thirty years, they had been left to grow unencumbered, their limbs reaching up towards the heavens and the castle wall. Rhys lifted a leg and climbed up onto the battlements, squinting his eyes as he tried to judge the distance.

Sneasel jumped up beside him, sharpening her claws against one another with the electric-metallic sting of normal energy being focused.

"You ready, Sneasel?"

Her answer was a nod.

Rhys breathed in and then out, crouched, flexing his legs. It was just one jump, one jump, somehow the most dangerous part of their trip from the mansion, through route the short route forty-four, and then up the Ice Path to Blackthorn city.

"Three..."

"Two.."

"One."

"Now!"

Rhys pushed off the mansion wall, jumping into the air, casting his arms forward, forcing his eyes open so he wouldn't miss his chance. He rose, he reached the apex, he fell. Panic surged in him as he saw Sneasel pass him mid-air. Rhys screwed his mouth shut and reached out as far as he could.

The tree shook as he grabbed on. Rhys was breathing fast and deep. He heard the branch creek and exploded into a flurry of motion.

The next thing he knew, he was at the base of a branch, pressed up against the base of the tree, and looking back at his family's compound.

One breath.

Two. His breaths were slowing.

Three. Sneasel was beside him, chattering something.

Rhys swallowed the bile in the back of his throat, exhaled again, and shimmered down the tree.

When he finally reached the ground, Rhys looked back at the mansion, nodded, then turned to the forest. Now, all he had to do was continue along the perimeter undetected until he reached the entrance to route forty-four.

On Sneasels

Much and more has been said about the effects humans have had on the adaptation of pokemon, selectively breeding them for specific traits, and in particular the subject of artificial evolution–although a misnomer–has been a recent topic of discussion. If you were to entertain me, I shall use the Johtoian–or common–Sneasel as an example for such a process, particularly focusing on a historical approach and this pokemon's intertwining history with the Mahogany Clan.
Now, the History of the Weavile begins some four hundred years ago, indeed some hundred years before the invention of the Pokeball, in Johto–the land in which the Pokebell originated–coexistance, worship, and indeed breeding was much more common here than in anywhere else in the rest of the world at the time. This gave rise to some of the earliest cases of artificial or human-induced selection among pokemon. Although this document does not intend to provide an exhaustive account the tree archetypal examples are: Indigo Eggexuctor, Johtoian Bellosom, and indeed the subject of this document, the Johtonian Sneasel that would eventually become today's modern Sneasel.
Now, at that time some odd four hundred years ago, there was an ongoing migration of Sneasel and Sneasler across the Sinjoh mountain range and down the peninsula. Although the reason for this is not yet known, the colonization of Hisui wouldn't begin in earnest for another two hundred years. This migration coincided with increased tensions between the Mahogany Clan and the various other Ninja clans that warred in northern Johto during that chaotic age after the collapse of the continental empire. The northern hills and valleys in particular were hosted to many Ninja–or to use the more historically accurate term, Shinobi. Although it wouldn't be incorrect to call them Shinobi or Ninja Clans, the term itself obscures the reality of the situation. They were, like the Samurai in Kanto and other parts of Johto at the time, landed feudal nobility. The difference comes in the tactics, and pokemon that were popularized. The thick forests, close set hills, and mountains made large formations impractical while also creating the perfection conditions for Dark, Grass, and Poison type pokemon. With Ice types being common in the nearby mountains.
Now, at the time of the migration and the increasing conflict among the Shinobi Clans the Mahogany Clan had taken to Pokemon taming the earliest due to the incorrigible patriarch of the time who had managed to tame an Absol himself when he was younger. So the clan already had a number of Absol, as well as a larger, more recent, number of domesticated Eevee. The migration of the Sneasels led to an initial conflict between the local Shinobi Clans, their Pokemon, and the newly invasive species. Although once Sneasler emerged in force there was little that could be done to stop the sporadic tribes of Sneaslers and Sneasels under their command. The only thing that prevented their further expansion into southern Johto were the native Xatu, as well as the Hisuian Braviary that eventually followed them southward.
The Mahogany Clan at the time faced a problem, although they had trained and bred Absol and Eevee their companions were not ideal for the subterfuge work they specialized in. Even with the critical Dark typing they allowed them to cloak minds from Psychic types, and the versatility of Eevee, the lack of opposable fingers, the near hopeless solitary nature of Absol.The Hisuian Sneasels solved two of these issues, and their incursion itself was an issue the Mahogany Clan was keen to solve. They were not the only ones who issued the call to beat back the Sneaslers into the mountain, but they were the only ones who succeeded in their capture and training of the surviving Hisuian Sneasels. Soon enough with the help of hired psychics they plied the minds of the captured Sneasels open, revealing the secrets of their evolution.
Over the next decades the Sneasels were interbred with Glaceon, Umbreon, and Absol with the clan repeatedly selecting for Dark and Ice type traits, exposing Eggs to low amounts of Dark and Ice energy, as well as shorter claws with higher dexterity. In the end this led to the three fingered Weavile with its one thumb, and advanced grasp of language, by the standards of Pokemon. This allowed them to dominate the surrounding smaller clans, relegating them into stewards for Shrines as they pushed towards Blackthorn Mountain. Although slow, taking place over generations, eventually, the Mahogany Clan came into conflict with the neighboring Blackthorn Clan over the ownership of Blackthorn Mountain, or more pointedly, its Hsiian Sneasel population and the Sharp Claws within the Ice Path.
In the end there was no conclusive victor in the conflict between the Mahogany and Blackthorn clan and in time both sides would make peace. However, more important for us is the fact that during the chaos, a Weavile of the Mahogany Clan escaped.
Despite the Weavile escaping with his Cohort of Sneasels the situation was not unsalvageable, there were only sixteen of them in total. However, the Mahogany Clan did not make an active attempt to retrieve or exterminate the Sneasels, allowing them to multiply. Despite what one might expect, there was little initial contact between the two breeds of Sneasel. The Johtoian variety were nocturnal, primarily preyed on Flying and Psychic types like the resident Xatu, Hisuian Briaviary, Jynx, or one of the many grass types. While the Hisuian were diurnal, primarily hunted the local Bug and Rock types, and had trouble accessing the burrows of Weaviles despite their typing making them ideal prey. Either way the two species coexisted for some time, if only because the Johtoian Sneasel were the ideal hunter for the natural predators of their Hisuian counterpart. This, as one might expect, led to a Trophic Cascade.
As there were fewer Hisuian Braviary, and the Xatu had been eliminated from the mountains, more and more Hisuian Sneasels and Snealer appeared, as there were more of them the native Rock and Ice types. The Jynx were beset on all side and nearly eradicated, Although like earlier, the Johtoian Sneasel was unable to penetrate Southern Johto or Eastern Kanto, although this was due to the native Fire types of the region: Vulpix, Houndor, Grolithes, and the occasional Rapidash. Not to mention the Fighting types that flourished in the Kanto hills. This pushed the two now dominant species into conflict, both over the remaining prey and over the shared natural resource they needed to evolve, Sharp Claws.
Despite their extreme type disadvantage the Johtonian Sneasels had several advantages over the Sneasler: They were pack hunters instead of solitary ones, had tighter social structures, a stronger grasp of language both written and spoken, and the skill set they had been bred for gave them an advantage in acquiring Quick Claws. Even when a Hisuian Snsealer had acquired a Sharp Claws they were just as likely to be attacked by a small pack of Johtoian Sneasels. By the time the Sneaslers adapted the Weaviles had already multiplied to 4-to-5 times their number. This however did not lead to their immediate extinction in Johto. Rather as the fighting escalated the Mahogany and Blackthorn clans intervened, in however a limited extent, on behalf of the Johotonian Sneasels the Mahogany Clan had started recruiting from.
Now, with the population of Johtonian Sneasels dominant in the southern Sinjoh mountains, and most sources of naturally occurring Sharp Claws under the control of the Mahogany clan or wild tribes of Johtonian Sneasels and Weaviles, the population of the Hsiian Sneasels slowly dwindled and the Johtonian Sneasel population exploded out of control. This finally forced the hands of the Mahogany Clan, as they set out to capture or exterminate as many wild Sneasels as possible. However the population of HIsuian Sneasels never recovered in Johto, and the hunting of Johtoian Sneasels forced them northward through the Sinjoh mountains where the pattern repeated itself, leading to the extinction of the Hisuian Braviary and Hisuian Sneasel. Eventually there remained only one Sneaseler and the handful of Sneasel under her command, hiding out in the depths of the Ice Path.
Although the Last Sneasler itself is a subject for another time, this summary itself is only a brief overview of a four-hundred year period..

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Pub: 24 Jan 2026 23:55 UTC

Edit: 12 Feb 2026 01:35 UTC

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