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Pokémon:

Quest of a True Master

Chapter 1

Mark Taylor's fame had been short-lived at the Hoenn League.

After besting Hoenn's Elite Four and Champion, fighting hard to make his way up to that rank himself, Mark had been the Champion of Hoenn for all of four months before losing his title to a trainer named Randy Calvin, who like him had started their journey in Littleroot Town just weeks apart. His chosen Pokémon had been Treecko, while Mark's had been Torchic, but neither trainer had ever known of the existence of the other, prior to that fateful encounter following what Mark thought was the end of his journey.

Looking back now, it all seemed so long ago. Mark had beaten the gym leaders in record time, accumulating what he felt was the perfect team, and challenged the Hoenn League after collecting his eighth and final badge from Sootopolis City's Gym Leader; Mark had wasted no time crossing the sea to Ever Grande City and challenging Victory Road. The trial had been long; Victory Road had been a lengthy challenge, with countless other trainers looking to test their worth before challenging the Pokémon League, but Mark had easily defeated them all; with his balanced and fully-trained team, nothing could stop him. Not even the Elite Four.

Sidney's Dark-Types were utterly crushed by his Blaziken, Vitesse. Phoebe had fared no better with her Ghost-Types; she was defeated by his Milotic, Siren. Glacia had stood no chance against Mark either, with his seemingly unstoppable Steelix, Tanker. And lastly, the strongest of the Elite Four, Drake, who proved the most challenging of all, nearly won, but Mark's Mightyena, Fang, had a rare attack -Ice Fang, which he had known since the day Mark had caught him, and with that unforeseen surprise attack against the Dragon-types, Drake too was beaten. After exhausting the many healing items he'd purchased to restore his team back to health, on came the battle with the Champion, Steven.

It took all of Mark's Pokémon and all of his skill, but in the end it was once more Vitesse who dominated the battle; even Steven's strongest Pokémon, Metagross, fell to her might. The two battled as Mega Evolved Pokémon, and Vitesse managed to win even while being barraged by Psychic attacks. One well-placed Blaze Kick had won the battle, and thus Mark had become the new Hoenn Champion.

At least until the title was wrested from him by Randy Calvin...

From the start, it had seemed Randy was set to win; his Sceptile proved more than a match for Tanker, especially after Mega Evolving into a Mega Sceptile. Mark had called out Vitesse, and soundly defeated the Sceptile, only for Vitesse to lose to a Starmie with impressive power. But then Starmie was then confronted by Mark's Tropius, known by the nickname Palm Tree, who with his adequate defenses and endurance -along with type-advantage, managed to defeat the Starmie and win the round for Mark. Following this, Randy called forth a Lucario.

Or so Mark had thought. Believing he could overcome Lucario's Fighting-Type with Flying-Type moves, Mark stuck with his Tropius, only to be surprised that the Lucario was actually a disguised Zoroark, who promptly burned Palm Tree with a Flamethrower attack, catching him completely off guard with the illusion trick.

Both trainers had used their Mega Evolutions early on, sending the battle in a different direction. Siren was sent out and managed to defeat the Zoroark, but even she was no match for Randy's real Lucario; the exceedingly powerful Pokémon won the battle decisively despite lacking type advantage. This left Mark only Fang, but due to a type disadvantage, even he fell at the paws of Randy's Lucario.

Losing Fang, all Mark had left was a young Charmander he had adopted and hatched from an egg only a week before, but it was infantile and untrained; he dared not risk it against a supremely trained Lucario like Randy's. Even if he had managed to win by some miracle, Randy still had a Zangoose and a Salamence waiting. But Mark could bear the thought of hurting a newborn Charmander even less than the thought of losing his title, and so, he forfeited the match, thus declaring Randy Calvin the new Hoenn Champion.

With that defeat, Mark returned home. His time as the champion was over, and so he went back to his house that, with his earnings across Hoenn, he'd constructed at the edge of the desert on Route 111. It wasn't a large piece of land; a small, three acre property with a custom built house, a large barn-style building, and its own little Oasis hidden behind a rocky outcrop that protected it from the sandstorms.

The house was a simple modular home, of a fair size; more than enough space for a man of simple tastes like Mark. Vitesse, Fang and his now-evolved Charmander, whom he had nicknamed Coal -more often than not mistaken for the human name, 'Cole', all shared the house with him, as roommates of sorts, but mostly as family.

However, for his Pokémon that were too large to live in the house, namely Tanker, Siren and Palm Tree, he had constructed the aforementioned barn-type shelter for them to sleep in when the weather was bad, although that was mostly Palm Tree, as Tanker actually liked being out in the sandstorms or just slept underground, and Siren was prone to sneaking into the house to evade the storms rather than go out to the barn. It wasn't a problem though, as there was enough space for her to curl up in the living room.

It had been several months -five or so, since Mark's defeat at the Hoenn League, since the title of Champion had been taken by Randy. He was driving to Mauville City in his truck, with only Fang to accompany him. The Mightyena sat in the passenger seat, watching the road pass by as Mark drove along, eyeing a few wild Pokémon that ran across the open ground beyond. As he watched them, he elicited a growl that escalated into a yipping sound out the window, expressing his eagerness to chase them and battle.

Mark chuckled, reaching over and petting Fang on the head. "Easy boy," he said. "I know; I'm feeling a little restless too. Been too long since we saw any action."

The Mightyena let out little growl as he leaned back his head, rubbing it against Mark's hand, panting happily as his Trainer scratched him behind the ear, feeling a little calmer. It wasn't like Mark hadn't battled since his loss at the league... it was just finding a trainer who had Pokémon strong enough to give him a challenge that was difficult.

"Who'd have ever thought being one of the best in Hoenn would be so dull?" He muttered as Fang lay down at his side, the Mightyena flicking his tail absently.

They neared Mauville city. It always struck Mark as odd that the 'city' itself was more like a giant mall that an actual city as you would expect them, being mostly indoors -both stores and homes alike. He parked his truck outside of the city in the guest parking area -which was really just a super-sized parking lot. After shutting off the engine, he stepped out of the truck, stepping aside to let Fang jump out as well, before closing the pickup door and locking it, walking around the back to make sure the tailgate and box cover were locked as well, before he walked with Fang over to the city entrance.

"Alright, Fang," said Mark, reaching into his back pocket and producing a grocery list. "We've got a few things to pick up today, so we better get started." He examined the contents of the list, seeing 'Pokémon Food' circled at the very top -circled items being priority items, which included both Food and Medicine.

"Lucky Tanker lives mostly by eating soil and rock," Mark muttered in jest to himself. "If I had to buy enough food for him, I'd be bankrupt."

"Er?" Fang grunted curiously.

"Nothing; just thinking aloud," Mark returned, chuckling nervously. "Sorry."

They carried on to the supermarket after entering the city; they passed numerous citizens, some alone, some trainers with Pokémon; a few gave Mark second glances, as if recognizing him. They probably did; he had gained quite a fan base in the time he'd been champion, and though most of them were probably now following the new champion, his face was still known to the people of Hoenn.

Ignoring them, he kept walking to the supermarket, with Fang right at his heels, padding along casually at Mark's side like a common house pet out for a walk, though on occasion he'd warily watch anyone who appeared to be following Mark; one Leer was enough to make them back off and leave his trainer in peace.

The shopping took only a short while; Mark purchased everything on his grocery list and left the store only an hour later. Fang helpfully carried one of the bags in his teeth and trotted at his side once more as they departed.

"Well, that about covers everything," said Mark, going over his list just once more. "Hope we get back before any sandstorms stir up."

They stepped out of Mauville, making their way over to the truck, and were about to open the back when a voice called out to him. "Hey! You there!"

Mark turned and looked over his shoulder, and saw two men approaching. They had the look of bikers, and twins; both of them had black hair and pale skin, though styled their hair and dressed differently. The first had a flat-top haircut, wearing a black leather jacket, while the other had grown his longer and wore a tattered sleeveless shirt, but both of them had the same face and eyes -brown eyes, and were gleefully eyeing the former champion.

Mark let out a sigh, looking at Fang. "We got muggers, boy; sic 'em," he said.

Fang dropped the bag he was carrying, turning to the two bikers and growling angrily at them; they backed up, throwing up their arms in defense. "Hey, whoa! We're not muggers!"

"Oh really? Couldn't tell," replied Mark, motioning for Fang to relax. "What do you want here?"

"You're that former champ, Mark Taylor, right?" The flat-topped biker asked.

"Maybe; why?"

The biker grinned menacingly. "Well, when I saw you, I got to thinkin'," he began, "that if I can beat you in a battle, maybe I have a shot at the Championship myself."

Mark almost wanted the laugh at the man's assumption. "Really; you think just because you might beat me, you can take on the guy who took the Championship title from me?"

"What, you didn't hear?" The biker asked. "The guy who beat you already lost the title to another."

Mark froze, staring at the biker in stunned silence. "Wait... what?" He asked.

"Yeah; he lost it to some other kid," replied the biker. "Seems he was no more suited for the title of 'Champ' than you were, huh?" He grinned at Mark.

Fang snarled at the biker, making him flinch. "Careful; my friend here is very easily annoyed by people who insult me," warned Mark, glaring at the biker. "Besides, if even Randy Calvin, the guy who beat me, couldn't hold onto the title, what makes you think you have even a chance against the guy or gal who managed to beat him?"

The man regained his composure, clearing his throat. "What better way to prepare for a champ, than to beat a former champ, right Mr. Has-Been?" It was almost comical how the man switched from cowardly to snobbish like some sort of split personality...

Once more, Fang growled, but silenced himself as he heard Mark chuckle; with a twitch of his ear he looked back at his trainer, who was actually smiling. Fang tilted his head curiously at Mark, who upon noticing the confusion in his Pokémon, gently patted him on the head. "You know something, man," he began, "you're right; that is a good way to prepare." He continued to pet the Mightyena as he spoke. "Alright, I accept your challenge, but there's one little drawback."

"What?" The biker asked.

"It just so happens Fang here has been bored for weeks," replied Mark, lifting his hand from Fang's head, and beginning to cross the parking lot, prompting them to a more open area where the cars all around wouldn't get damaged. "But, he's the only Pokémon I have with me at the moment; if you want to battle now, you'll be fighting just him, so it'll have to be a one on one battle, to keep it fair."

"That's fine by me; I only got two Pokémon anyway," the biker replied, producing a Poké Ball from inside his jacket; with a click of the button, it expanded from the size of a golf ball to that of a baseball. He threw the ball forward, and it popped open, unleashing a white light that struck the ground, forming a shape before materializing into the form of a Pokémon.

The one that came out was a Koffing; a floating, spherical Pokémon with numerous, jutting vents all over its purple body, with a skull and crossbones imprint on its belly and a vacant, grinning face, almost like it was daydreaming, but its eyes locked on Fang. It chuckled morbidly and bobbed around, expelling some smoke from its vents.

"Why am I not surprised you're using a Poison-type?" Mark asked.

"What's that 'sposed to mean?" The flat-topped biker asked.

"Oh nothing," replied Mark, not wanting to be the cause of stereotyping, but he had noticed that most people who fell into the category of 'gangster' or 'thug' always seemed to have a Poison-type in their roster. This guy was all too obviously a biker -or at the very least a wannabe- and he was only adding to the cliché. "Alright, Fang; you ready?"

The Mightyena barked in confirmation, growling in anticipation and crouching low as he waited for Mark's command.

"Let's begin," Mark bade.

"Koffing; hit him with Poison Gas!" The biker commanded.

At the behest of his trainer, the Koffing shifted, taking a deep breath and exhaled a sickly green fog from its mouth, additional gas exhuming from its vents. Fang didn't move, nor did Mark, even as the Mightyena was engulfed in the gas. The Koffing continued to laugh even as it stopped breathing the gas.

"Ha! Choke on it!" The biker taunted confidently.

"Fang, use Crunch," Mark said, plainly.

The biker scoffed. "He can't see my-yai-yai!" The Biker panicked as he saw Fang, leaping out of the gas cloud, looking completely unfazed.

"He can now!" Mark retorted.

Fang landed on the Koffing, biting it with his powerful jaws and visibly pinching its body between its teeth. The Koffing's grin disappeared as it cried out in both surprise and pain, expelling more gas from its vents, but Fang would not release it, and it could not continue levitating while the much heavier Mightyena was chomping on it; it was dragged down to the ground, allowing Fang to place his feet back on the pavement.

"Uh... try to shake him off!" The biker called, desperately.

"Not going to happen," Mark returned. "Fang, use Shadow Ball!"

Still clutching onto the Koffing, a dark energy formed in Fang's maw; mere seconds after he stopped biting, the Koffing was hit point-blank with the Shadow Ball and sent flying, crashing into a lamp post before sliding to the ground, already fainted.

"Oh man, no way!" The biker protested. "How did he find my Koffing when he was surrounded in gas?"

"Bigger question," his friend/brother added. "How did he not get poisoned by the Poison Gas?"

"That's easy; Fang held his breath," replied Mark. "As for how he found him, your Koffing was still chuckling when it exhaled the gas; Fang didn't need to see or smell him, he could hear him, and tracked him that way."

"How can a Pokémon be that smart?!"

"If you even need to ask that, then you don't understand Pokémon at all," returned Mark. "They're intelligent, sentient; they learn, and they adapt. Fang has fought many battles at my side; we've trained together for a long time and he's become one of my strongest partners. There are commands I don't even need to give him," Mark walked over to his Mightyena, kneeling down and stroking his flank, "because we've bonded enough he already knows what I'd tell him to do. That is what it takes to be a Champion; perfect sync with your partner."

At that, Fang reared his head back and bumped his nose into Mark's cheek, giving him an affectionate lick and panting happily.

But the biker was only made angrier by Mark's words. "That's a load of crap!" He barked at the trainer. "If you know so much about Pokémon then how'd you lose your title to someone else?"

"They were ready for me, but I wasn't ready for them," Mark answered in acknowledgement. "And, if there's one thing I've learned as a trainer, no matter how strong you are, there's always someone stronger than you -the world's too big a place for that to be untrue."

"You're damn right, because winning a Pokémon Battle isn't about bonds; it's about having the strongest!" The biker held up his Koffing's Poké Ball. "Return!" He commanded, and a red beam of light shot out from the button, striking the Koffing and transforming it into an energy form of the same colour, drawing it back into the ball. He stuffed the ball back into his coat, and then produced another one; a Great Ball, recognized by its purple colouring as opposed to the red of a standard Poké Ball. "Go!" He barked, tossing the ball.

"Hey!" Mark protested.

But the Pokémon emerged; out of the ball, the white light formed into a spherical shape again, but this was not another Koffing; this shape had legs and short arms, and as it materialized, becoming solid, a stone creature with legs, arms and a head, almost reptilian in appearance with red eyes was revealed, eliciting a growl as it appeared. A Golem.

"We agreed to a one on one battle," Mark reminded. "I trounced your Koffing, so you already lost."

"Change in plans, Mr. Has-Been!" The biker returned. "I'm bringing out my big guns, now! I'll show you what battling is really about!"

Mark scowled. "Sore loser," he grumbled, before he softened his gaze and looked at Fang. "You up to it?"

The Mightyena nodded eagerly, turning to face the Golem with anticipation.

Mark nodded. "Okay... guess we'll need the secret weapon." He said, stepping aside to give the two Pokémon space to battle. "He'll never see it coming."

"Alright! Golem, use Rollout; turn that Mightyena into a flapjack!" The biker commanded.

The Golem drew in its limbs, and tumbled forward, rolling across the parking lot with enough force to crack the pavement. Fang watched carefully as the Golem rolled towards him, springing out of the way just in time to evade it, but it was tenacious; it began to circle back to try again. Attempting to stop it was out of the question; Fang was big for a Mightyena, but still nowhere near heavy enough to have a prayer at stopping a Golem in motion; the average Golem itself weighed more than seven times as much as an average Mightyena.

"Fang, use Shadow Ball!" Mark called. "Try to slow it down!"

The dark sphere formed in Fang's mouth, and with a bark, he fired the condensed Ghost-type energy attack towards the rolling Golem. The Shadow Ball hit its mark, and the Golem's trajectory was visibly affected by the impact, veering off course and narrowly missing Fang again.

Frustrated, the biker grabbed his hair, scratching his head furiously before he barked out. "Golem, use Dynamic Punch!"

The rolling Golem turned about, rushing back towards Fang before it uncurled, eliciting a rumbling growl as it launched itself into the air using the momentum of its roll with a well-timed leap. Arcing towards Fang the Golem wound back its left arm, which became ablaze with yellow energy as it soared towards the Mightyena.

But Mark and Fang were faster. "Go, Ice Fang!" Mark commanded.

Fang launched himself towards the Golem, a chilly mist creeping from his muzzle as he met the Golem in midair and bit down onto his arm before he could throw the punch, making the Golem howl in pain as its countering type was introduced. They landed, and the Golem tried frantically to shake off, but Fang held the Golem's hand with jaw strength like a steel trap, refusing to let go.

"Come on, Golem; try another punch!" The biker commanded.

Using its free arm, the Golem attempted another Dynamic Punch; Fang side-stepped, evading the rather clumsy punch and turning Golem's momentum against it with a sharp yank, causing it to stumble onto its belly, smashing its head into the ground.

"Fang; roll Golem onto its back, then use Ice Fang again!" Mark called.

Fang barked in confirmation, dashing around Golem as it tried to stand up and kicking it in the backside with hind legs; the unexpected kick sent Golem tumbling forward, successfully rolling it onto its back, where it was helpless. From there, Fang leapt onto its stomach, and bit down at its face, clamping on its arm again as the Golem brought the limb up defensively, once more introducing the heavyweight Pokémon to the creeping chill of Ice Fang.

The two struggled, but Golem was pinned, and Fang would not give it an inch to recover. Finally, Golem succumbed to the type disadvantage, and fainted. With that, Fang leapt off of its belly, letting it lie.

"Fang wins," Mark stated. "That wasn't very hard."

"I don't believe this," the biker complained as he held up Golem's Great Ball and called it back. "How could Ice Fang hurt Golem so much? He's a Rock-Type!"

Mark eyed the biker in disbelief. "Seriously? Do you even know what Golem is vulnerable to?"

"Yeah, Water and Grass Types; everyone knows that," the biker retorted. "What's your point? Your Mightyena isn't either of those."

Mark sighed. "Golem has two types, not just one. He's also part Ground-type, which is vulnerable to Ice."

The biker went deadpan. "Wait... so Golem IS weak against Ice?" He demanded.

"Precisely," replied Mark. "Your Golem's own dual-typing was a disadvantage; Rock-types are effective against Ice-types but because Golem doubles as a Ground-type it makes them just as effective against it." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "So let this be a lesson to you, and a reminder that cheaters never prosper." He turned towards his truck. "Next time you battle a trainer, especially a former Champion, make sure you at least understand the basics of Pokémon typing -especially on the ones you're carrying, not to mention accepting there's a lot more to battle than just raw power." He scoffed.

"Hey!" The biker yelled, running up and grabbing Mark roughly by his shoulder, spinning him around and then seizing him by the collar, raising his fist threateningly. "You might be some hotshot trainer, but nobody talks to me like I'm an idiot, you got that?!"

Mark's expression remained unchanged even as Fang growled at the biker, and then the ex-champion seized the biker by his arm. "Nice grip; let me show you mine," he stated, nonchalantly, before he kicked the man in his leg, disrupting his balance, and then seized the man's arm with both hands, pulling it over his shoulder before he turned sharply, hurling the man over his shoulders and to the ground.

The biker hit the pavement hard, knocking the wind out of him. He curled up into a ball, reeling from the aches he felt in his lungs and on his back where he landed. "Why you...!" The other biker growled, but leapt back in fright as Fang snarled at him. "Ah! Good boy; down!"

Mark stared at the downed Biker, standing over him with a deep scowl; the biker remained perfectly still as he looked up at Mark, clearly intimidated and surprised by him. "Don't think that just because I'm a Pokémon trainer that I'm not capable of handling myself in a scrap," warned Mark. "Now you're going to scram, or I'm going to really get angry." He grinned devilishly. "Or maybe, I'll just let Fang deal with you."

The man was up in record timing, scurrying to his feet so quickly that if a world record for standing up existed, he had probably just beaten it. "No need! We're going!" He exclaimed, running over to his brother. "It was an honor and a privilege getting the chance to battle you, Mr. Champ sir! Whoever took your title, they don't deserve it!"

Mark scowled. "Flattery will get you nowhere," he said. "Right, Fang?"

The Mightyena let loose a Roar at the two humans. And that was all it took.

They both broke into a frantic sprint, running across the parking lot as fast as their legs could carry them. Mark stood watching them as they left, arms crossed and waiting patiently until they were out of sight. As he lowered his arms, something caught his eye; he turned and saw a crowd had gathered nearby, watching the spectacle. He didn't know how long those people and Pokémon had been watching him, but their stares were making him feel uncomfortable.

"What? Never seen someone deal with a couple of assholes before?" Mark asked, perhaps a little too harshly, stepping over to his truck. A few people stepped aside for him as he fished out his car keys, opening the door and letting Fang jump in first before climbing in as well. With that, he shut the door, fastened his seat belt and started the engine, slowly and carefully driving out of the parking spot and heading for the main road...

________________________________________________________________

"Looks like we just beat the storm, Fang," said Mark as they arrived on the property, barely able to see where he was driving on account of the cloud of dust and sand blowing across his view.

The sandstorm had hit just as he had reached the top of the hill where his home rested, becoming thicker by the minute as Mark backed his truck into the garage alongside his house, taking one of the bags of Pokémon food he'd purchased first; a brand with more fruit and fibre content. "Go grab Vitesse; see if she can't come get some of these groceries," Mark called over the wind. "I need to go check on Palm Tree to make sure he got inside before the worst of it starts!"

The Mightyena barked in reply and ran over to the house, rearing up on his hind legs to pull the screen door open with his teeth, and then dive through the doggy door behind it, vanishing into the house. Meanwhile, Mark jogged over to the barn, and peered inside, looking around for his Grass Pokémon. "Palm Tree?" He called.

He heard an excited hiss, and glanced over to see the Tropius running over from across the room, beating his big, leafy wings happily as he strolled up to his Trainer. Mark laughed as Tropius playfully bumped him in the chest with its head, proceeding to pet him along the neck, just where he knew he liked it. "Good to see you too, big guy," he said. "Glad you got in here before the storm came; hate to leave you out there."

The Tropius happily hissed in reply, licking his face briefly. Mark then held up the bag of food he'd brought from the car. "Managed to get your favorite today; you hungry fella?" He asked.

Palm Tree nodded his large head, and was practically dancing as Mark walked over to the trough he used to keep food for Palm Tree in; Siren's was just next to it, but she was nowhere to be seen. "Probably in the house again," he mumbled as he used a pocket knife to cut open the bag, dumping the chunks of fruit-filled, fibrous kibble into the trough, emptying the rather large bag of its contents and stepping aside to let Palm Tree eat his fill.

The Tropius breathed happily as the trough was filled, waiting until Mark emptied the bag before dipping his head in, taking a mouthful of food and chewing it carefully as Mark petted his neck some more. "Man, you must've been hungry," he said, chuckling. "Sorry it took so long for us to get back; I guess I let myself get sidetracked."

"Sst?" Tropius hissed quizzically, raising its head and turning to look at Mark.

"Eh, a couple of punks in town, giving Fang and I some trouble," replied Mark, scratching the nape of Palm Tree's neck. "Challenged me to a battle but, Fang trumped them easily. You'd have had an even easier time with the Golem they used. To top it off, the trainer was... kind of a moron." He scratched his head in thought. "Well maybe not entirely one. He had the right idea -his motive for challenging me, I mean." Mark suddenly had a thought. "I dunno, Palm Tree... if it ever crossed my mind, you think you're ready to battle again?"

Palm Tree did not even hesitate to give an answer; he nodded his head, giving a happy hiss in reply to his trainer. Mark beamed at the Pokémon's confidence, and gave the Tropius one more scratch in that sensitive spot on his neck before he let him get back to his supper while the human departed, closing the barn door.

The instant Mark turned around, he ran smack into a shiny metal surface, bonking his head against the metal nearly hard enough to see stars. "Ow," he groaned, before stepping back and looking one at a time at the two eyes at either side of him, which were crossed to look at him. "Hi, Tanker," Mark said, not even scared by the utterly enormous, metal-bodied, serpentine creature in front of him. "How you doing, big fella?"

The Steelix let out a low growl in response, which sounded almost like the rumble of a train engine rising from within his throat and passing between his huge, square teeth that grinned at the trainer. Mark reached out and patted the bridge of his nose -if he actually had a nose- and smiled at him. "Enjoying the oncoming sandstorm?" Mark inquired, to which Tanker nodded large head. "Well, I got to get inside; unlike you I'm not made of metal, so sandstorms can hurt." He laughed heartily, running his hand over Tanker's face as he walked towards the house. "Stay out of trouble, okay?"

Another growl and a nod of his enormous head, before Tanker moved aside and let Mark pass. Mark heard the Steelix drag itself over to the cliff side to be in the wind as the sandstorm hit full-force. Leaving the Steelix to bask, Mark rushed back to his truck to get the groceries he'd bought, only to find that all of the bags were already gone, leaving the covered box empty. He laughed. "I told Fang to ask Vitesse to get _some_of the bags, not all of them. Of course, Vitesse just wants to help."

With nothing left to do, Mark shut the garage door and sprinted over to the house, his hand over his eyes as the sandstorm kicked up around him, keeping his arm just high enough to see under it so he didn't run into a wall or a fence post, until he saw the stairs of his porch. With a good strong leap he cleared the three steps, landing on the deck, and approached the front door, promptly pulling the door open and rushing inside, closing it behind him.

He spat out some sand. "Pfft! Disgusting..."

"Chak?" He heard.

"Not Jack, it's Mark," he returned in jest, trying to rub away some sand that got into his eyes. "That you, Vitesse?"

"Chik," was the reply, and he felt a tap on his shoulder. Opening one eye, he saw his Blaziken standing next to him, carefully offering him a glass of water and a small red towel.

"Oh, thanks girl; it just so happens I'm thirsty and need a wash," he said gratefully as he took the glass, downing nearly the whole thing before dumping the rest over his face. From there, he handed the glass back to his Blaziken, and she gave him the towel. Mark promptly dried his face before the rest of the water could spill over onto the floor, clearing some of the dirt from his skin though leaving a few muddy smears here or there.

With his face much cleaner now, he pulled the towel away from his face, looking over at Vitesse. "Thanks girl, and thanks for getting the groceries too," he said, giving her a smile as well before he hugged the Blaziken.

"Chik!" She squawked cutely, returning the hug to her trainer, her warm body almost enough to cause him to perspire from how much heat she emitted -though not unexpected from a fire-type, but he was used to it.

When he pulled back, he gave her a scratch behind the V-shaped crest on her head, right where she liked to be pet, and then glanced around. "Is Siren in here again?"

"Chak," replied Vitesse with a nod, walking back a couple of steps and pointing into the living room through the doorway on his immediate left.

Mark peered through the doorway, looking to the corner across the room, where he saw the shiny, elongated body of his Milotic coiled up on a blanket in the corner, sound asleep with Fang curled up next to her; his eyes opened lazily as he glanced up at Mark upon hearing his voice, but he shut them again, going back to his nap.

Mark scratched his head in thought as he looked at Siren, sleeping in what was normally Fang's favorite spot. "Maybe I should make the doggy door big enough for her to slither through," he remarked. "Least she didn't break through the screen this time."

Vitesse nodded.

"Well, anyway, you hungry girl?"

At the mention of food, Vitesse clucked happily; Mark took that as a 'yes' and crossed the living room to get to the kitchen, finding Vitesse had left the groceries he had purchased on the counter for him to sort through. Digging through the bags, he'd found a large tin of Pokémon food -a size meant for small-to-medium sized Pokémon, not like the giant bag he'd just fed to Palm Tree, and popped it open, spooning out some of the contents into a bowl that he passed to Vitesse.

"There you go," he said to the Blaziken.

"Chik-chak!" She clucked happily as she took the bowl in her hands.

"You're welcome," returned Mark. "Hey, where's Coal at?"

As if cued, Mark heard an excited "Rawr!" and looked up just in time to see a red reptilian spring off of the top of the fridge, tackling the surprised trainer.

"Whoa!" Mark barked in surprise as he was pounced by the Charmeleon, knocked straight to the floor by the unexpected tackle. Luckily for him he had not been holding the can of Pokémon food, or it would have spilled all over the floor. Mark tried not to laugh as Coal began to lick his face, hugging him with his long arms as he welcomed Mark home the only way he knew how.

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear!" Mark managed to say as he struggled to get his attacker off of him. "Okay, okay, I surrender!" Mark begged the Charmeleon for mercy, until he finally managed to sit up and prop himself up on his hands, reaching over and rubbing Coal's neck. "One of these days, Coal, you're going to be too big to do that!"

The Charmeleon stuck out his tongue at his trainer, blowing him a raspberry; Vitesse was laughing at the spectacle, trying not to drop her bowl of food. Mark only petted the Charmeleon more. "I should have nicknamed you Devil when we hatched you," he remarked.

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Later that night, after making sure all of his Pokémon were fed, Mark sat down on the couch to wind down after the day. The events of that afternoon were not really what he'd call a busy day, but enough had happened he felt like relaxing. It was not like he had much else to do, since he was no longer on a journey.

Reaching for the remote he switched on the television. The other Pokémon joined him after finishing their suppers; Siren curled up against the couch below his feet, while Fang laid down adjacent to him, placing his paws and laying his head across his trainer's lap. Meanwhile, Vitesse sat down on the other side, with Coal between them both. Inevitably, most of the group fell asleep shortly after Mark put on a movie that was playing on one of the channels. Fang was the first one out, followed not long after by Coal, who lay back on the couch propped up against Vitesse, the Blaziken holding him like a mother would a child.

But Mark was only half-focused on the movie.

The words of the biker were in his mind... 'What better way to prepare for a champ, than to beat a former champ'; a ring of truth followed those words. Mark didn't know if that was how Randy Calvin had defeated him, but it had given him an idea. Something that Mark had never thought of before; he was once the best in Hoenn, but now that title belonged to someone else. Maybe he could not become the Hoenn Champion again, at least not yet, but Hoenn was just one place, one of several...

Six regions there were, with their own Pokémon Leagues Champions both current and former, a new challenge he could face, to take his journey places other Champions never considered, because by the time they beat the Pokémon Leagues of their regions, and proved themselves the betters of the Elite Four and the former Champions, they believed they could rise no higher. Mark knew this feeling himself -once even having this very mindset, however briefly, but had it in his mind that there was no higher he could climb.

But there was still something he could do; he was one of the best in Hoenn but what if he could become the best in the world? The best of the six regions; Kanto, Johto, Unova, Sinnoh and Kalos all had their own Champions as well -true to life Pokémon Masters that could prove to be the final test, or proof he was not the greatest; they were the best of their regions, but who was the best of ALL the regions? Nobody had ever tried to find out, and only now did Mark feel the desire to truly test himself against the best trainers in the world.

Mark smiled. "I think I know what I'm going to do."

"Chapa?" Vitesse asked, hearing him speak.

"Vitesse," began Mark. "If I were to ask you, 'are you ready for a new journey', well... would you be?"

The Blaziken's eyes alit with excitement as Mark voiced his question, and it was then and there he knew the exact answer...