I Will Touch the Skies – A Pokemon Fanfiction

Side Story 6 – Great War Testimonies

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Side Story 6 - Great War Testimonies

It goes by many names. Most commonly, the 'Great War', but also the 'World War', the 'Kanto-Johto War', the 'Final War'. Personally, I will always prefer the Final War despite how unrealistic that notion is. Today, we remember the pain of loss, the agony of war, but in a generation? In two? When the people that lived through the conflict begin to die and children that do not know of war start gaining positions of power? I dare not suggest another conflict is likely, but all credence points toward it not having been the last.

This year marks the 10th since the end of the Final War. The world has changed irreparably, for better or worse. Orre was scorched by multiple Moltres to the point of becoming uninhabitable to everything but the toughest of Pokemon and men. Companies are rising in Unova and Galar and gaining in influence. Kanto and Johto have done the unthinkable and have formally united under Indigo out of fear of Legendaries. A revolution rocked Kalos and the royal family was imprisoned or executed just months after the war's end. The world population fell by twenty-three percent, mostly due to Legendaries, and that was just a warning. All of that is the tip of the iceberg.

As for me? My name is Jonathan Briar, from Unova. I am just a record keeper, writing this in hopes of preserving these traumatic experiences on paper. With enough luck, my work and the work of others will dissuade future generations from delving into another war. This will not go into geopolitics. Instead, I will focus on the small. Individual accounts from Pokemon, civilians, soldiers, leaders from every region. I believe that personal accounts like this are even more important and will help paint a picture of what war is truly like.

My questions will always be in bold, and the responses will be written normally.

PEWTER CITY, STATE OF KANTO-JOHTO - LIFE AT THE FRONT, AN ACCOUNT BY SAIKI IESADA

Saiki Iesada looks old. The lines running across his face are deep, he looks tired and grunts every time he sits, stands or does a sudden movement. It comes across as a surprise, then, that he is only thirty-nine years old. The veteran is missing an arm and the remains of lacerations mar his neck and shoulders. We are currently inside his home, and his wife brings us some tea. Pewter is a rough city. Rugged architecture, hardy people, and it is still rebuilding from the war even ten years later. Massive war memorials litter the entire city with hundreds of thousands of graves. More than half of the city died or left as refugees toward Kanto's interior, and most have not come back. During most of the war, Pewter was an easy target for sabotage and aerial attacks.

"I'll start with what might be a tough question. What was life like at the front?"

Saiki laughs. "Pfft. I thought you were going to ask how I lost my arm! As soon as the war began, I volunteered. If I could go back in time, I would do it again. I didn't have much. Just my old man's Torkoal to my name. They said a fire type would be useful and sent me to the front," he said, staring into the distance. A picture of Torkoal sat on a drawer. His Pokemon had died in the war.

"So Pewter was not a front-line city, then?"

"It might as well have been with all the times we were attacked!" Saiki gruffs. "But for a while, the true front was miles to the east at Mount Silver. Some of us fought in the caves— a terrible, terrible thing. The stories scare even me!" He says, leaning back into his chair in a defeated fashion. "I was on the mountain's flanks."

"And how would you describe your experience?"

Saiki works his jaw and stares up at the ceiling. He stares back down at me, and the unimaginable weight of war sits atop his shoulders.

"Hell."

"If you don't mind, could you go into further detail?"

"I still remember my first day," he recalls. "The war had only been going on for two weeks at that point, and no one knew what the hell they were doing. Not the soldiers, the leaders, or the politicians. Hell, we didn't even know what the war was for. Some fucking border dispute, they said. I was brought in to the foot of Mount Silver and our barracks were attacked the night of. Some night raid from some Johtoan punks."

He paused, trying to find the words to describe his experience.

"The thing about a boy's first battle is that it's confusing," he said. "The adrenaline tampers the fear of death, and all you're trying to figure out is who is who and how the hell you're going to make it through the next ten minutes. People die all around you. There are battles in the air and on the ground. Buildings collapse, but in that instant, you don't care about who the hell is winning. You don't even care about getting some Johtoans killed. You care about living, but you can't run! That's a coward's way, and you'd get killed for deserting. Eventually some commander took control of the situation and gathered us up, and we began to push back the Johtoan forces. I'd say there were around one hundred of 'em in the raid. They tried to catch us while we slept."

"And you won?"

Saiki nods. "Technically we did. The thing about war is that there aren't enough trained psychic to protect the troops. All of the psychic types are sent to missions that matter or are protecting the people in charge, and the result is that the fights are a fucking bloodbath. People burning to death, getting cut up, run through— the fragility of humans is put on full display. The way we were all trained— the doctrine was to kill the trainers first and the Pokemon later. Cut the head of the Ekans, so to speak."

"And the Pokemon would be disorganized, leaving you an opening?"

"That, and there was also the psychological effect. This wasn't just a war between humans. Pokemon are soldiers as well. Even if a lot of them lived through battles— more than humans, anyway— you kill their trainer, and they lose all of their motivation. That's a soldier knocked out of the war for however many months it takes for it to be transferred to a new trainer."

"Pokemon swapped hands?"

Saiki waves his only arm. "All the time. A Pokemon that isn't fighting is a waste of supplies. They get put with one of them war shrinks for a few weeks and get right back to fighting. Some of 'em lost themselves to war and became killing machines. How else do you cope when you cycle through a trainer every few months? A lot of 'em went crazy and killed some of their own too," he sighs. "It is what it is."

"So, back to the front. Were these raids common?"

"Very much so. Johtoans were adept at them and far better than we were. I saw a few battles as well— with thousands of people and Pokemon on both sides. When that happens, all semblance of what you know about Pokemon training disappears. It's formation, doctrine, strategy. There's no calling out commands. We tried to keep Pokemon that could complement themselves together. No one was putting an Onix with a Furfrou. Think of something like hundreds of same type Pokemon lined up. Water types for example would be blasting their enemies with Water Gun, Water Pulse or Hydro Pump."

"And the humans?"

"They took a backstage during the largest battles, and they were mostly there for support. Flanking, assassinating generals, strikes from the air, artillery support in the back. Human-made weapons were never used that much before the war. Who needed a Howitzer when Pokemon could do the exact same thing? A plane when you could fly on a Fearow? Well, we did. There were far more humans than there were Pokemon fighting in the war, and we needed to put them to good use. Even non-trainers were conscripted."

"Let's move a little further into the future. The breakthrough when you made it through Mount Silver."

"Ah, yes! That was when things really ramped up and battles started happening left and right. A massive push around Mount Silver from Kantoans and Hoennian forces pushed our enemies back, and we reached Johto's heartland. You know what happens next, though."

"The Legendary Birds."

"Never saw 'em, but I have plenty of war buddies that did," he says with dimmed eyes. "In the end, what are we? Nothing. Legends could end humanity in an afternoon, and it's a wonder they haven't. Ten years ago, it was the birds, but who knows what it'll be next time?"

"You think there'll be another war?"

"Obviously. War is a human and Pokemon constant. We can't stop it, it's in our blood. I don't know where it'll be next time. If I had to guess, probably here again. Kanto and Johto getting along? That can only last so long."

CASTELIA CITY, THE REPUBLIC OF UNOVA - THE UNOVAN CAUSE, AN ACCOUNT BY MASON WOODS

It is easy to see at first glance that Mason Woods is no soldier. The way he carries himself is calm and collected. He does not flinch at the closing of doors or cars passing by, nor does he look at Pokemon walking in the streets with wary suspicion. We sit in a small café that is nearly empty, and we both order something to drink. Mason drinks his coffee completely black and downs it before the interview. He is a retired politician and was a member of parliament. One of the key figures in the Committee for Foreign Intervention formed in the months after the war's start. Today, he is ostracized by Unovan society at large and is seen as the main cause for Unovan's intervention in the Great War and its subsequent escalation. Not many Unovans died during the war compared to the other regions, but they were still scarred by war, and Orrean refugees swarm the country's border in an attempt to escape the wastes.

They are, of course, brutally shut down.

"Help me paint a picture here. Why would Unova, a country on the other side of the world, intervene in Johto's favor?"

"Tell me, Jonathan," Mason answers. "Do you think democracy is precious?"

"I certainly think it's the best form of government, but—"

"Kanto was a military dictatorship. Johto was a corrupt democracy— but a democracy nonetheless!" He says, clenching a fist. "The only one on that damned continent. I believed— and many of my colleagues who now spout anti-war nonsense still do— that Johto was worth protecting. People say that nobody won the war, but that isn't true. Kanto won the war. They forced their form of government over Johto."

"So you wanted to protect democracy, then?"

"Why else?"

"Some people say that a lot Unovan companies had a lot of stake in Johto and that was one of the major reasons. Also, the Opelucid Group grew five times richer during the war by selling weapons and training Pokemon abroad."

"Complete and utter nonsense," Mason scoffs. "You take the word of leftists desperately trying to frame me instead of real, tangible goals? And look! Those same companies are growing ever richer now that the war is over. Sure, the government sold contracts to the Opelucid Group because they made the best weapons and streamlined the Pokemon training process! But what about the others? Avalon, the Obel Energy Company? The war only hurt their profits. That's as dumb as saying we're intervening in Ransei for oil. We have plenty of fucking oil!"

"Please relax, Mr. Woods. Moving on, could you explain what you saw in the inner workings of government during the war years?"

"I apologize for raising my voice," he sighs with trembling lips. "I formed the Committee for Foreign Intervention along with a few like-minded colleagues. Kiran Lang, Aubrey Lewinsky…"

He lists many names from many different political parties before continuing. Some of these are new to me, and others are vocally anti-war today.

"We were laughed at at first. Sending our boys and girls to die an ocean away wasn't exactly a popular notion with most of parliament, and we were ostracized by our own parties. We grueled and lobbied for months, but to no avail. But—" he stops and smiles. "Hoenn joined Kanto's side and Sinnoh joined to help Johto. Alola was a Hoennian colony at the time, which Orre was very interested in seizing for themselves for a forward-facing base in the Azure Ocean."

"Ah. Now it's starting to make sense."

"Orre invaded Alola with a surprise attack and seized the archipelago for themselves in Hoenn's moment of weakness, and that got Parliament nervous. Orre might be a backwater now, but ten years ago it rivaled Unova— but of course, you know that already."

He clears his throat and I continue.

"Wouldn't logic dictate that you back Kanto and Hoenn should Orre back the other side?"

"Geopolitics aren't that simple. The last thing we wanted was for the war to escalate and for our cities to be bombed to smithereens. A land war with Orre would be terrible for us. Instead, we looked to pragmatism. Join the war on Orre, Sinnoh and Johto's side and act as a mediator after what looked like an inevitable victory. Grant Alola its independence from Orre through diplomacy and weaken them in the process due to the fact that they would have used men, money and resources on a country they wouldn't control.."

"Pragmatism and democracy?"

"Why not both? One does not disallow the other," he shrugs. "Anyway, suddenly, we were all about intervention, and the Committee finally got to work. We would send Johto an expeditionary force 150,000 thousand strong, not counting the Pokemon, and most of our efforts would be concentrated in the sea and air. We expected complete domination. After all, it was four countries against two."

"But other regions intervened."

"So goes history," Mason nods. "You know, sometimes I have these visions at night. Nightmares."

"Nightmares?"

"What if Moltres had picked Unova to scorch instead of Orre?" he trembles. "Then we would be ruined, and they would be prospering. Unova won the coin flip."

"You think it was a coin flip?"

"I doubt the Legends bothered to learn about the intricacies of who was at fault, who was in the right, and what region to burn, freeze, or electrocute. We were dirtying their backyard and they gave the Durant nest a kick. Hundreds of millions died in the process."

"What do you think the future holds for Unovan politics?"

"Well, as much as it pains to admit, we achieved all of our war goals and we're the only power left on the continent. Orre doesn't have a functioning government any longer and the majority of their people died in the fires. Their lush lands were glassed and turned into desert. So…"

His face scrunches up, and he exhales.

"In the end, I suppose Unova was one of the winners."

ECRUTEAK CITY, STATE OF KANTO-JOHTO - THE LEGENDARY BEASTS, AN ACCOUNT BY LIZBETH BANE

Lizbeth Bane glares at me as I enter her office, and she stops typing on her type-writer for a moment before continuing. She asks if I'm the interviewer her staffers were so excited about, and I say yes, introducing myself. She dresses like a man, sporting a black suit and pants with a tie. She was one of Johto's leading Legendary researchers during the war, but today, she is just a University Professor in Ecruteak. Her office is orderly, as if everything is in its intended spot.

"Sorry for the inconvenience. What can you tell me about the Legendary Beasts? Raikou, Entei, Suicune?"

"Not much," she snorts dismissively. "Don't expect to get a full account of how we went about creating the artificial ones. That is classified information, and I value being alive."

"On the fourth year of the war, the Legendary Beasts— or some form of them were seen aiding Johto's alliance. This sent Kanto and Hoenn into a panic, but they quickly realized they were not the real deal."

"Yes, yes, yes," she groaned. "They were not real. The fact that Kanto, Hoenn, Kalos and Paldea thought they were for even a few days is proof that they lack a lot of intellect," she quips. "Sinnoh had… the technology and knowledge to create things from nothing. It took four years to find the right vessel. I won't go deeper into it."

"So how strong were these fake beasts in actuality?"

"Around the level of an average Gym Leader's Pokemon. Devastating in battle, but not war-changing like we needed them to be. There were worries about… you know what, never mind. Just know that they were not sustainable, which is why they stopped being used after six months."

"And the war was not sustainable either, was it?"

"Why do you think Kanto and their allies broke through in the final months? Obviously, it was not sustainable. We were slowly losing, inch by inch until everything gave away and the entire war effort unraveled."

"Getting back on the topic of the Beasts. Could you have created any Legend— or a bootleg version of them, at the very least?"

"Theoretically. But the Beasts were simple. The Legendary Birds, they're a concept. Too blurry, not enough form. We cannot understand them well. Ho-Oh and Lugia are the same. They are constants. Laws of the world that will survive for time eternal. The Legendary Beasts are good. They're Legends, but understanding them is almost achievable, or at least that was the theory."

"And this technology is in the hands of the new government?"

Lizbeth laughs dryly. "Calling it technology is funny," she says. "But yes. You can bet that every single state now knows the theory behind it. Putting it in place is another ordeal entirely. It's not just Kanto-Johto and Sinnoh that know it. We all know it. And I hope we all understand that experimenting with things that were not meant to be played with would be incredibly stupid."

The weight of her statement settles in the room, and everything seems darker for a moment.

I breathe.

HAU'OLI CITY, REPUBLIC OF ALOLA - REFUGEE HAVEN, AN ACCOUNT BY LANAKINA PUKAHI

Lanakina takes a long drag of his cigarette as we sit on the beach and watch the waves. Time seems to sit still on the pristine beach, and the sound of the water feels nice on my ears, even if writing in the sand is an awful experience. Hau'oli city sits in the distance. It is already a lot larger than it was when I first came here two years ago. The sunlight feels heavy on my skin. Lanakina breathes out smoke and smiles. He works in the Alolan Ministry of the Interior and is overseeing Hau'oli's current expansion.

"Go on," he says.

"Thank you. Alola's been independent for ten years, now. Would you say the… ordeal has been a success?"

"I'd say it's been so and so," he frowns. "Hard to negotiate with the hundreds of Pokemon to expand without a full-fledged war that no one wants. There have been times when conflict was inevitable, and Unova's been a big help in that regard. War never stops. It just slows, wanes, and then picks up again."

"And how is the government? It wasn't modeled after Unova, was it?"

"It was not. We aren't exactly compatible," he chuckles. "We're far more in tune with nature, and we've got no League. Everything's civilian-run."

"Is the fact that a city is bulldozing over a tropical forest not ironic when considering that statement?"

"If it was Unova, everything would have burned down already," Lanakina shrugs. "Not that we could do that with the Tapus around. It's all about not stepping on their toes."

"Alola's been getting a bit of a reputation lately, hasn't it?"

He smiles proudly. "We're a damn refugee haven, that's what we are. We'll take your poor, your tired, your criminals, anything so long as you can work. Our population's growing exponentially. From a few tens of thousands to the 400,000 we have today. Hopefully it doesn't stop for a while. We need the labor."

"There's been accusations of you taking in war criminals from every region. Layne Lancaster moved to Hau'oli from Kanto, for example. He was known to line up trainers and force them to kill their own Pokemon to spare their own lives, and he would kill those that did regardless afterward."

Lanakina's face falls. "Is that what this is?"

"I'm just asking questions."

"I did say we'll take your criminals. War criminals included," he speaks. "People always rag on us for doing this. They say that we should follow the rule of law— the fucking rule of law! Hah! Give me a break! Every region's got their skeletons in their closets. Hoenn grabbed themselves a bunch of terrible scientists— war criminals," he presses. "To start some kind of fucking space program. Humans going to and sending things to space? What's next? Complete nonsense. Unova allowed the richest to move into their country so they invest in their economy no matter what fucked up crime they committed. It's war crimes all the way down, Jonathan. No one's got clean hands."

"Fair enough. But no one's been as open with it as Alola has been."

"Every region's got their niche. We have to specialize, or we'll die. We're the smallest in terms of land area and population, we've got no oil, no rare minerals… nothing. We have to allow ourselves to build ourselves up, and for that, we need immigrants. You come here, you've got a clean slate. Don't fuck up again, and we'll turn our heads the other way."

"Has Orre… well, do you share any bad blood with Orre?"

"If there was anyone left to have bad blood with, maybe," he sighs heavily. "Poor bastards. They invaded us and occupied us for years, but they weren't as bad as they could have been, especially compared to how brutal Hoenn was with us and the news we heard about the front in Shinwa. I feel terrible for all the death there, but what can you do but pray and hope for the best?"

"I suppose so."

"I suppose so? Have some heart you emotionless bastard," he complains.

GATEON PORT, ORRE - HELL, AN ACCOUNT BY SIDNEY PIERCE

Gateon Port is a small settlement of a few tens of thousands of people, and it is far more orderly than I expected. It is one of Orre's only permanent settlements and the only one with a semblance of a functioning society. Coming here is more difficult than I expected. There are no airports to use, and ships have a high chance of being seized by pirates. Many people walk around with guns and rifles, and Sidney Pierce does so as well. He is thinner than what seems healthy with scabs and bruises all over his body. Beyond the city, there is some greenery, but beyond even that, there are the endless dunes that stretch taller than mountains. I cannot help but look over my shoulder every few seconds even though I have hired guards to come with me. Other than their own, there are no Pokemon in sight. The majority of people walking around me have some kind of burned tissue on their bodies.

"Before we begin, I have to ask. What's with the—"

"Guns?" He speaks with a frail voice. Even then, he looms threateningly. "You gotta have a way to defend yourself, man."

"I've heard of this before, but there are no Pokemon here?"

"Oh, there are. Just not enough for everyone. That's not even speaking of maintenance and the fact that we don't have many Pokeballs left from the pre-war days. That stasis effect would at least help us not have to feed the damn things that much," he says with a fidget.

"Have there been any attempts to establish a working government here?"

"And do what? What is there to rule over exactly? A few settlements, nomads, ruins?" He stops to spit on the ground. "There's nothing left. A few dozen Moltres was all it took to commit genocide on a scale the world had never seen. Half of us died from the fires, then another forty-five percent from the societal collapse that came after or they managed to run away. Famine, disease, crime, it doesn't take much to kill a man."

He pauses.

"That's not to say no one tried. They just all failed."

"If you had someone in charge, the situation would improve, wouldn't it?"

"Want me to tell you what we need for the situation to improve? International help," he says.

"Many regions have sent help. Unova, Galar, Hoenn… to this very port, in fact."

"That shit gets stolen and sold the moment your ships leave," he rolls his eyes. He stops to erratically scratch his elbow and grunts. "We need a force to fix things. A few thousand, well-trained men and women would be all it takes to take control of this port. Then they can go from there."

"So you're asking to be invaded?"

"Fuck yeah, I'll be invaded! People can invade this shithole all they want! I don't care who does it, I just want someone to do something. Not that it'd be easy. Plenty of people have used this crisis to make a fortune, and they'd fight back any authority. Anarchy pays, believe it or not."

"It would be horribly expensive."

"And war isn't?" He raises a twitching eyebrow.

"That depends. Are there any other settlements like this?"

"This port's the biggest, and there are a few others on the coast. There are also a few beyond the coast, and I've heard whispers of some underground city being built inland too. Only rumors, though."

"Some people live inland? Isn't that terribly dangerous?"

His lips quiver, and he stammers. "People will live anywhere, man. There are raiders, Pokemon that live in the dunes, the threat of dehydration, walking for days and weeks in the sand to reach the next settlement or oasis. Most of the people you'll see in-land are nomads trying to go east."

"To get to the Unovan border and cross it."

"That, and also scavenge the remains of our old cities that are still standing. I've been to two back in the early days. They're all so empty. Hundreds of skyscrapers burned to a crisp and barely standing. It's hard to imagine we all lived there back in the day. Plenty of scrap metal and other goodies to steal, though."

"Did you lose anyone in the Great Fire?"

"That's what they call it abroad?" Sidney snorts. "Yeah, man. It'd be hard to find someone who didn't lose someone else. The entire fucking region was set ablaze. You don't just scrape through that without losses."

"My condolences—"

"Thank you. Move on."

"What's your plan for the future? Is there any hope of recovery for Orre?"

"I heard a few people say it'd take a thousand years for the land to go back to normal, so no," he shakes his head. "Just… survive. Live every day like it's the last, because some motherfucker might shoot me in my sleep for forgetting to pay him back. Maybe find one of 'em Moltres Avatars and shoot it before burning to a crisp. Wouldn't that be fun?"

I don't answer.

COUMARINE CITY, THE KALOSIAN REPUBLIC - REGRETS, AN ACCOUNT BY TRISTAN ARCENEAUX

I watch life on Coumarine's port go by and can't help but marvel at its beauty. It is a stark contrast to Gateon Port. Orderly, well-staffed, paved ground, and Pokemon wandering about. I sit in a restaurant next to the port and Tristan sits with me while on his break. Today, he is just a waiter, content to live a discreet life. Ten years ago, he was a leading figure in the Kalosian revolution that overthrew the old monarchy. Today, Kalos retains much of its old traditions with noble titles, but it is a full-fledged republic.

"When I talked to you on the phone, you said that you thought the war was a good thing. Will you explain why?"

"Is there a King in Kalos, Jonathan? A Queen? A royal family?"

I cannot help but notice the thick accent. Kalos is one of the only countries not to speak our common language, and it is hard to understand him. Tristan's words were slow, long and drawn out.

"Well, I suppose not."

"Exactly. Because we killed them and grabbed freedom for ourselves. Without the war, the conditions needed for this never would have risen."

"And why did Kalos join the war on Kanto's side, exactly?"

"I am no politician. Just a retired revolutionary. I do not know what goes through their minds. But scum supports scum, Jonathan. Kalos was an absolute monarchy. Kanto was a military dictatorship that was at war against Unova, Galar, Orre, Johto and Sinnoh with only Hoenn on their side. Authoritarians fear when their fellow dictators fall. For a second, it probably seemed like the entire world was changing. That dictators were going to fall. I supposed that scared King Charles III and his ministers."

"And that is why Paldea joined as well?"

Tristan chuckles. "Possibly. They're a Military Junta, so a dictatorship all the same. The key point, though, was to be a counterweight to the other nations hoping to strike Kanto down."

"How did you start getting involved in the Kalosian Revolution exactly?"

"It was during the war. Kalos was the only nation not on Shinwa that had implemented… uh, how do you say it… conscription on its people. A lot of us were forced to fight in a war that we did not care about whatsoever. I was lucky and was not drafted, but my brother was, and you can guess that anger needed to be redirected somewhere."

"So you got involved before the war ended?"

"Far before," he nods. "That was how I ended up as one of its leaders by the end. At first, we did not want to bring down the monarchy. We just wanted to end the war. We would bomb ships, railroads, airports, military bases. We were a thorn in the government's side, but we were an effective thorn that hampered the war effort well. Of course, la Guarde Royale hunted us like dogs."

"How did you start wanting to abolish the monarchy?"

"It came in phases. When we realized that King Charles III was not going to come to the negotiating table, we decided that we needed to do more. We settled on a constitutional monarchy at first, a…" he frowns to find the word, gesturing above the able with a hand. "A Figurehead with no power— like what they have in Galar. Of course, everything changed when the war ended."

He stops to see if I need to speak, but I just nod.

"With the troops coming back home, we were killed by the thousands. The bodies of my camarades were hung high to scare our fellow citizens. Public executions were done by the King's Haxorus. Heads were cut off with the move Guillotine."

"So your movement became more radical."

"As it should!" He yells, unabashed by his surrounding employees and clients. "Soldiers that had seen the horrors of war joined us by the tens of thousands. There were riots in the streets from the lackluster response to the appearance of Zapdos in Lumiose. People were hungry, tired, scared, angry. Kalos gave out at the seams. King Charles was betrayed by his own guardsmen and many of his Lords who knew the situation was untenable, and we killed him and his wife. We gave them both a trial, of course. They were both convicted of trai— treason and their heads were cut, like what was done to so many of ours beforehand. Their children were exiled to Galar and I am sure they are living a nice life."

He chews on his words and drums his fingers against the table.

"Parts of me wish we would have kept them in prison. Who knows if thirty years from now, Galar will not hang them over our heads and use their claim to go to war?"

"So you still dislike Galar, then? Even after becoming a republic?"

"Rulers may change, but history and politics do not. Galar was a threat to us before the republic, and it still is now."

"Who did you take inspiration from to form your new government?"

"No one, save for the Gym Leader system that we found would be a stable alternative to the Lords and a Champion and Elite Four to lead the military side of things— with oversight from l'Assemblée Nationale and le Sénat."

"And the Lords… what happened to them?"

"The ones that helped the King were killed or imprisoned. The ones that helped us kept their titles, were stripped of most of their lands, but got to keep crumbs. Much more than I would have liked."

"You could have been in an important position in the new government—"

"I was not after power. Just freedom, and revenge for my brother's death. Vive la république, et vive Kalos."

FLOAROMA CITY, SINNOH - WAR HEALING, AN ACCOUNT GIVEN BY SALOME THE GARDEVOIR

Salome gently gestures me toward a couch, and I sink into the comfortable fabric. Her rooms had dim, yellow lights that washed over the walls and her face. She moves her arm and the door locks.

"Thank you for your time, and for meeting me on such a short notice. I had a few questions about—"

(She cuts me off and answers in my mind, but I will use quotation marks for consistency)

"My time spent healing during the war," she says with a nod.

"You were told about me?"

"I can read it. In your mind."

"So you can know what I think at all times?"

"Correct. I will often let people talk regardless, because humans like to talk. It is good to heal."

"You were one of the therapists on the front, were you not?"

"Yes. I spent many years there, speaking to humans and Pokemon— but mostly humans. My job was to get them in fighting shape as fast as possible, so my healing was often not sufficient. Despite my warnings, they often took them anyway."

"How did you help people get better?"

"It depends. For the loss of a family member or a Pokemon, I would allow them time to grieve, cry in my arms while I soothed them and told them everything would be okay. For a soldier who was wounded and was in horrible pain, I would make them feel things. Block off pain. Have them focus on the good."

"So you altered how they felt?"

"I could not bear to watch them squirm in pain. They asked for me every time they were wounded. I was one of the most popular therapists on the front. Humans like to speak about the ethics of messing with the mind, but when someone's leg is shattered and he needs to wait two days for the nurses to amputate him safely, I would rather block off the pain than not."

"Do you ever regret sending so many young men back to fight after they'd suffered so much?"

"The war was a human construct. I was just living in it, and doing my best," Salome softly says. "If it hadn't been me, it would have been someone else. The fact that I am an empath just made me better at the job. I did not care much for sides or who would win. I simply wanted to help them attain a better state of mind."

"What led you to this career path? Today, you've used your experience to become a therapist here in Floaroma."

"I belonged to a human that fought in the war. When she died to a stray Stone Edge, I was healed by a woman. I couldnt help but feel like a failure. My barrier had been breached by that Stone Edge and I had gotten my trainer killed, but somehow, her words made me feel better and allowed me to forgive myself. Seeing her work made me want to do the same. Had I not been a Gardevoir, I doubt my request to be a healer would have been approved."

"So there were not many Pokemon therapists, then?"

"A Pokemon healer was a Pokemon not fighting at the front, and psychics were dearly needed. I was more the exception than the rule. Humans are weak and are capable of doing the job just as well."

I nod, noticing her tendency to refer to therapists as healers.

"So now you plan on living in Floaroma as a therapist, then?"

"There is nothing I would rather do. Even today, many men suffer from conditions like shell shock and that still need my help."

"They use a new term for that condition in Unova, now. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"That… certainly feels more complete than shell shock. I will see if I can spread the term."

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