Arissa waited in the wings, carefully keeping herself from picking unseen bits of lint off the floral sundress she was wearing. She thought she would never be free of the pre-performance jitters, no matter how many contests she took part in. One would think that she had nothing to be worried about, since her pokemon were doing most of the work, but their performance was partly a reflection of her skill as a trainer and director. And of course if they made it to the performance round, she would take a more active role.
Her pokemon, on the other hand, were quite calm. Little Ronen (who actually was a bit less little now that he’d evolved) was sitting on Kishin’s back, chattering cheerily with his mother. He sounded excited, and she seemed to be encouraging him. Kishin apparently noticed her trainer’s nervousness, because now and then the Archeops would turn to nuzzle Arissa and coo encouragingly at her as well. The young woman would smile and pat her pokemon’s head, but it did little to soothe her.
Finally their number was called. Arissa took her deep breath and said, “That’s us, Ronen. You ready?” She also held her arm out level in front of her, elbow crooked so her forearm was in front of her chest. Ronen cheeped in affirmation, nuzzled his mom, then hopped up to perch on his trainer’s forearm, making her look vaguely like a falconer. Then Arissa straightened her shoulders and stepped out into the stadium, while Kishin stayed backstage and cheered them on. Already Arissa’s arm was starting to get tired, since Ronen was a bit heavy to hold that way for long. That was why he would only there for a few moments.
Arissa walked forward a short distance, just far enough that spectators from all sides could see her clearly, then she tossed Ronen into the air with a bounce of her arm. He soared upward, flipped in mid-air, and fluttered his wings as he descended so that he landed lightly on the tips of his feet. He looked up, stretched his arms wide and sighed, as if enjoying the weather. Then he began to skip around the field, humming merrily. He hopped and bounced his way around the floor, his wings waving gently as he went so that he barely touched that ground at all. Now and again he would drop into a spinning crouch, arms outstretched as if gathering something from the ground, then leap up high and fling his arms up. When he did, a confetti-like burst of leaves would fly up and dance in the air. He continued to do this, and each time he used Magical Leaf the leaves would be different shapes and sizes. Before long the stadium was full of floating leaves, all drifting around as if blown by a gentle wind nobody could feel.
But they did not float aimlessly for long. Soon the leaves began to swirl together in the center of the stage, coalescing to form a large mound. As more leaves joined together, the mass stretched up and out into a coiled serpentine shape, with a wedge-shaped head and a pointed tail. Clawed legs sprung out from the sides as the head formed a crest of horns and deep pits for eyes. When all the leaves had gathered together, the dragon opened its mouth, revealing rows of pointed teeth, and reared up.
Meanwhile, Ronen had kept skipping about in his carefree manner. Yet when a long shadow was cast across him, he slowed to a halt, looking down at it. Then he looked up to see what was blocking the light. The green dragon glared down at the hapless Togetic for a moment before lunging for him.
With a startled cheep Ronen scampered away, just barely dodging the dragon. It raised its head to snarl, the leaves rustling to produce a hissing sound. With a further rustle, its short legs churned as it began to chase after its prey. The dragon’s head kept lashing out to strike snake-like at Ronen, but the Togetic managed to slip out of the way each time. Yet the dragon was relentless and kept driving him back, and before long Ronen was pinned in a corner with nowhere to run. The dragon reared high, hissing victoriously, then pounced. Ronen gave out a terrified keen, cringed back and threw up his hands.
A silvery wall flashed into sight before him, a scant moment before the dragon crashed into it full force. The Reflect cracked and fell to pieces, but even though Ronen's momentary protection was gone, the dragon was in no state to strike again. It wobbled backwards, clearly dazed from the impact, and slunk back to recover.
Ronen had looked up in wonder at the source of his salvation, and once the dragon had retreated he tiptoed forward to look at the broken pieces. After considering the pile for a moment, he reached down to pick up one of the pieces. When he held it up it proved to be a long, thin fragment, with a short prong sticking straight out from each side near the bottom. Ronen grasped that bottom segment firmly, making it look very much like a sword. With his other hand he reached down to pick up a fragment that was nearly perfectly round, and held it like a shield. By the time the dragon had recovered and turned back to him, Ronen was armed and had taken a defensive stance, a determined expression on his face.
The dragon renewed his attack, but this time the fight went much differently. Instead of running, Ronen blocked the dragon’s strikes with his shield or parried them with his sword. For a time the pair seemed evenly matched, neither gaining or losing ground. But once Ronen had grown more used to the armaments, he stopped waiting to react to the dragon and launched his own attacks. He began pressing forward, lunging to swing at the monster, who was forced to retreat before him. The dragon clearly did not like this and grew furious, hissing madly and trying harder to snap at Ronen. But time and time again he was repelled. Finally it gnashed its teeth, sat back on its haunches, and slashed at Ronen with its claws. When Ronen leaped into the air to avoid them, a shimmering gust of wind arose and carried him aloft. He stayed in the air, wind swirling as he hovered at the dragon’s eye level. They faced off eye-to-eye for a moment before the fight continued.
Now they were clearly pulling no punches, with the dragon madly striking with tooth, nail and horn. Ronen wove in and out of the dragon’s attacks, expertly dodging, blocking, and slashing off bits of his foe’s horns or claws. As he did, the Fairy Wind trailed along behind him, weaving around the dragon and steadily constricting it. Before the dragon knew it, it was tied up as firmly as with rope. It jerked and thrashed, trying to break loose, but the wind held it fast.
Ronen hovered above, panting a bit as he watched his immobilized foe. But the dragon was not vanquished yet; Ronen needed to finish it off. He thrust his sword into the sky, looking up at it as it began to spark. The Shock Wave intensified, lighting crackling up and down the blade until it appeared to be made of pure light. Then Ronen pointed the sword at the dragon and dove, headed straight for its head. The dragon, in one last show of defiance opened his mouth wide to try and chomp the fairy out of the sky. Ronen did not slow and instead flew straight into the dragon’s mouth. A burst of wind and lightning shot out of the gaping maw as he plunged down its gullet.
Ronen’s sword was so bright his passage could be easily seen through the dragon’s leafy skin. He shot through the dragon, flying swiftly from head to tail. The dragon was blown apart in his wake, the leaves shredded or vaporized as they blasted apart by the trailing winds and lightning. By the time Ronen burst through the remains of the dragon’s tail, all that was left were a few scattered green flecks swirling in the shimmering breeze. Ronen floated to the ground and let his sword and shield disintegrate as well, then looked up as the last remains of the dragon winked and disappeared.
Ronen held that pose a moment until the audience began to applaud. He smiled and bowed to them, then hopped up and fluttered over to where Arissa was waiting near the entrance to the stage, arm held out for him. Once he landed on her arm, the pair bowed again before heading off-stage to await the results.
