The Waking World - SFW - Rescuers of Ransei Ch. 1
#1 of Rescuers of Ransei - Pokemon Conquest Smut Series
Virelai, a bat-dragon Noivern and heir to the throne of Dragnor, inadvertently meets a terrible fate at the hands of an unknown (and inept) intruder. But before the worst can occur, he wakes up back in his room, with a strange feeling and the knowledge that this has happened to him before in the past. Be it a surreal nightmare or a vision of the future, Virelai is granted a second chance. Not only must he survive his own apparent kidnapping, but he must reckon with the knowledge that even the fortified castles of Dragnor are not safe from the outside world.
Chapter One - The Waking World - SFW
The continent of Ransei was eternally ravaged by war. The land itself hid great treasures and resources underneath its crust, with wealths of energy and power in all different forms waiting to be discovered, only to be morphed into weapons of mass destruction. The soil contained relics of a vast age of human reign, stories of grand emperors and widespread struggles still preserved under a few layers of loose silt. Yet once the age of humanity was over, the creatures they fought alongside merely took their place and perpetuated the endless struggle that the atmosphere of the land itself seemed to crave so much. This new age, headed by Pokemon of all different shapes and sizes, had learned to fight with more dignity. Death on the battlefield was a tragedy, and a loss felt by all sides. Bystanders were not to be involved in matters of territory and conflict. And battalions were to consist of members willing and able to fight for their kingdom. Such rules were closely followed, but the need to conquer, to control, to one day see your kingdom rule over the land of Ransei, was not an aspiration to be questioned. It was the law of the land.
Even under such grim circumstances, there were several places that were sheltered from the direct consequences of battle. In these reclusive parts of Ransei, it was easy for Pokemon to forget the ongoing war that pervaded their culture, their labor, and their kingdom. Under such conditions, a new way of life flourished, filling younger generations with a hope for heroism, romance, and a life of hedonism. Even the northern city of Dragnor, with its antique and conservative culture, wasn't impervious to the changing tides. The Western reaches of Dragnor, inhabited by the royal families defined by their centuries of dragon-type lineage, were a tranquil and solemn place, stark in comparison to the iron-claw grip the kingdom had across various parts of the region. It just so happens that in such a place, hope for a better future would begin to blossom. It was inside the mind of a young Noivern that such dreams shined strongest, as he hunched over his desk reading intently, surrounded by scrolls containing decades of invaluable historical information. Throughout the tales of rulers, both magnificent and short-lived, there was a hint of something more. Kingdoms reaching agreements, borders being torn down, Pokemon of various sizes and natures living in harmony. In the lofty towers of Dragnor, it was easy for him to forget the conflict and struggle located as close as the other side of the Dragnor kingdom. His hopes for adventure, exploration and lust had yet to be tested by the tumultuous reality of the outside world of Ransei.
It was only a matter of time.
Engrossed in his studies, Virelai didn't hear the footsteps creeping up from the stairway that lead directly into his room at the tower's peak. The castle was as old as the bloodline of Virelai's family, and his sensitive bat ears had grown accustomed to the strange acoustics of his home. The unwitting Noivern was only made aware of his imminent demise by an arm tightened around his neck. A blindfold was quickly thrown over his eyes, and in the next moment the panicked dragon was out of his seat and flailing about the room, struggling against his attacker in a confused frenzy. It was a terrible stroke of misfortune that Virelai was able to escape from his assailant, only doing so by flinging himself wildly - and directly into the stained glass window that overlooked the entire castle grounds from a dizzying height. Virelai only realized his mistake as the blindfold slipped off in the wind and he found himself rapidly approaching the ground, too disoriented to use his wings to slow or control his descent. Time slowed to a crawl as adrenaline poured through his bloodstream. The defeated dragon couldn't help but pray that this was some horrific nightmare from which he would soon awake, no matter how real and tangible it felt. He braced himself for impact, hoping to either wake up from this dream or avoid any pain with a quick death, whichever came first. In a sense, the poor bat would experience both.
Virelai awoke with a start, leaping back in his chair and nearly toppling over as he grasped onto his desk for balance. It was just a dream. Just an unfortunate nightmare, the traumatized bat thought to himself, catching his breath. The whole experience felt like a living daydream, riding the line between delusion and reality. As much as he wanted to move on with his day and pretend like nothing had happened, Virelai knew there was more to the story. This... wasn't the first time he had experienced such a surreal vision, if that was, indeed, what he had been put through. His mind wandered back to playing with his childhood friend on the shore several years ago, as they hunted for seashells and played pretend. At some point over the course of that morning, Virelai had begun to feel quite strange. As they built sand castles together along the calm sea shore, he felt a nagging sensation that everything around him had stopped... being... real. Like realizing one was lucid dreaming, or losing focus and drifting off into a daydream. Time itself came to a hazy crawl, and the sensation nearly lured the young bat into a sleepy sense of tranquility, if not for the tragedy that unfolded next. He watched as his best friend, a water-type Oshawott with exceedingly proficient swimming skills, was pulled under the waves in a matter of moments. His body had acted faster than his mind had, as he dove under the water and fought to catch up with his friend. His paw grabbed a hold of the Oshawott's foot, and to the duo's surprise, Virelai was dragged even deeper into the water along with him. Refusing to let go, Virelai sank along with his friend into the dark depths of the ocean. His lungs ached for air, and his pain was only made worse by a sudden slap to the face, as a tentacle smacked Virelai away from his friend, and the monster creeped off into the darkness with its prey. The edges of the bat's vision darkened and wavered, and his spirits sank as he realized the worst was in store for himself and his lost friend. His final moments were spent suspended peacefully in the water... and a few moments later, he was back on the shore, his best friend's paw nudging his shoulder. Apparently, he had been spacing off and staring towards the sea, and Oshawott had swam back in to check on him. Virelai didn't have the words to explain what he had just been through. Oshawott never got an explanation for why his friend suddenly wrapped his wings around him into a hug, and begged him to stay by his side for the rest of the day, rather than re-enter the water.
Not wanting to dwell on the past any longer, Virelai moved his focus back onto his studies, struggling to accept the notion that some things simply cannot be explained. If he was being honest, however, he was getting rather bored of his research endeavors. Although his position amongst the royal families as Heir to the throne of Dragnor was significant in giving him access to all kinds of archived information, there is only so much time one can spend looking over ancient scrolls and documenting the past before getting exhausted. The Northern Kingdoms of Ransei were known for their strength and influence, and the ongoing conflict between the Ice, Steel, and Dragon-type Kingdoms began long before Virelai was born. Some sources suggested that the Ghost-type Kingdom of Spectra was once a rival force that managed to keep the three other Northern kingdoms in check for a time, although this... well, it wasn't even close to being the case today. The pattern seemed to repeat with the quartet of South-Western Kingdoms, as the Fire, Water, and Grass-type Kingdoms were known for keeping each other in check, with the Normal-type Kingdom of Aurora caught in the middle of their strife. And of course, the decades of history between the nine remaining kingdoms of Central Ransei would be impossible to summarize without several hours of explanation. But for all that Virelai knew of the Kingdoms of Ransei, he had never been permitted to travel outside the safe borders of Dragnor. That, with any luck, was soon to change.