Chapter One: Lepidopterophobia
Charmander ran through the forest. Over logs and under branches. The birds sung. The sun filtered down through the leaves, casting strange patterns on the forest floor. Charmander ran. On his face was a look of both concentration and determination. His heart pounded in his chest. The air felt wonderful as it filled his lungs again and again. He vented his excess body heat through his tail, causing it to burn bright white at its core. The air was moist with the leftovers of a shower in the early morning. It was cool but not cold.
"Turn left.'' A voice said from his back. The Charmander's claws dug into the dirt and he turned left. Without a loss in speed, the Charmander ran, hoping and ducking as necessary to move through the woods. A rock face loomed before him. "Up there.'' The voice said, and the Charmander threw himself onto the face, and began to climb. Up and up he climbed, hind feet scrabbling to find purchase in the rocks beneath him. Up and up he climbed. His scaled feet scraped against the rough rocks. The damage to his soles was superficial and essentially harmless, but there was pain. Even so, he found he did not mind the pain. It motivated him forward towards the goal at the top of the rock face. Like the spicy pain of eating a chople berry, there was a discomforting heat to the scratches on his feet. But also like the spicy pain of eating a chople berry, once that pain was done, there was a sense of pleasure and relief. A reward for completing an arduous task. Charmander loved the taste of chople berries. And likewise, he found that he loved that pain that came with hard training. Higher and higher he climbed, until his hand found nothing to grab but empty air. He pulled himself up and crawled onto the flat rock that was the top of the cliff. His chest heaved, greedily taking in all the air he could handle. ``Stop here'' The voice said. But Charmander didn't want to stop. He wanted to run. He wanted to move. Charmander looked over his shoulder. Stuck to his back was Kakuna. The Yellow shell was stuck to the Charmander's back by a collection of silk and mucus. The two had been stuck together for the better part of the season. Charmander stopped and panted, wagging his tail back and forth. "Take a break here. Then we are moving on to arms.'' The Kakuna stated. He had choses to bind himself to the Charmander when they had met right at the beginning of summer. He had still been a weedle then. After a brief fight followed by apologies and a few words, they had become friends. When it was time for Weedle to return to the hive tree and form his cocoon, Charmander had begged that he remain instead. With permission from the hive queen, Weedle had crawled onto Charmander's back, and spun his silk cocoon. Now the two were literally inseparable, rather than just figuratively. ``Let's begin. Right... Then left.'' The Charmander approached the Tree. It bore many claw marks from many days of practice. He took his stance, as he had been taught, breathed in, gathered himself, then stuck.
Whack... ... Whack... ...
Kakuna thought back to their meeting, as he often did as Charmander trained. The boy had stumbled into the circle of six trees that made up the hive. He was about to attack the weedle he had been chasing, when he looked up to see the army of beedrill looking down at him. Only the words of the hive queen had stayed his execution.
Whack... ... Whack... ...
The queen had, in her wisdom, stated that to raise the young fire-type as one of the hive would not only destroy a predator, but also gain them an ally. Chars tended to live in tribal societies, so the transition to hive life was easy for him. It was not the first time an outsider had been taken into the hive. It was the first time a fire-type had been accepted. Especially one that was so prone to violence and rage.
Whack... ... Whack... ...
Charmander's past life had never been discussed. He would never speak about it, even to the queen. It was known that he has been separated from his tribe somehow. The fact that he never asked to look for them hinted that he didn't expect to find them again. Perhaps some tragedy had killed them all. The Charmander was afraid of Butterfree. Even their non-sentient cousins, the butterflies scared him. If he saw one, he would curl into a tight ball, hiding his tailflame, and then refuse to move or speak until it was gone.
Whack... ... Whack... ...
Why did he fear Bufferfree? There was a healthy population of them in the forest, but they usually kept to themselves. The idea of a group of Butterfree attacking and killing an entire tribe of Chars was nonsense. The idea of a Butterfree inflicting so much pain upon a Charmander, so as to give it a deep-seated phobia of anything that even resembles them, was even more inane. Charmander would never speak on the subject. In fact, he rarely spoke at all. He much preferred to listen instead. He would often ask questions which he knew had long and drawn out answers. He would ask the same question to several different members of the hive, if only to hear the information again.
Whack... ... Whack... ...
Charmander struck at the tree. His arms were sore, but this was more of the good kind of pain. His back felt heavy, partially from the work and partially from the passenger that was permanently fixed there. He loved Kakuna's voice. He loved the higher pitch it had, the small buzzes and clicks that colored it, the skittering, darting nature of the words. It did not sound like his voice. It did not have the harsh hisses and growls splattered among the words. It did not have the guttural throaty sounds that smelled like ash. It did not sound like the voice of a Charmander. It did not sound like the voice of a Charmeleon.
``Now. Turn to the stone.'' Kakuna said. The rock at the top of the mountain was already charred black with past attempts. Charmander enjoyed this part most of all. The sacs under his tongue were plump and ready. The tang of turpentine was a well-known and welcome taste to him. The vapors created when he pressed his tongue to the back of his mouth were noxious and in some cases life threatening to those around him, and the raw fluid secreted by the glands irritated the skin of just about any living thing that came into contact with it. However, it could have been water for all the effect it had on his body. He was built with the sole purpose of harnessing and uses this foul chemical to its fullest effect.
"Ember...'' Kakuna commanded. Charmander pressed his tongue back. A measure of the turpentine poured into the floor of his mouth. He swished it around with his tongue, once, twice, and soon it had a more gel like consistency. Now he was ready. He breathed in through his nostrils and spat. Just as the glob of flammable liquid left his mouth, Charmander clicked his tongue. The solid plate in his tongue smacked against the roof of his mouth, and a spark was created. That was all it took. The glob of spit transformed into an expanding ball of fire. It hurled out of his mouth and crashed into the rockface before him. What was left of the liquid splashed on the surface of the rock and burned solidly for a few seconds. Kakuna's pride was palpable despite his lack of facial expression or vocal comment. Charmander jumped into the air in celebration. The attack was perfect. His aim was spot on. There was no lingering taste in his mouth. There was no annoying backdraft when he opened his mouth, and he had managed to ignite the projectile with proper timing. He also managed not to swallow any of the turpentine. While it was not the deadly poison that it would be to other creatures, if he swallowed enough of it, his stomach would become upset, which usually resulting in very flammable vomit. The queen had ordered a shelter made of rock be constructed for him at the edge of the hive trees. And the hive was more than courteous when it came to his tail flame and the natural hazard it presented. However, flaming vomit was not something that they just accepted. It was up to him to control himself and make sure he was not a danger to himself or the hive. That was one duty of his that he took most seriously.
"Very good. Very good.'' Kakuna praised, "Now. Try Smokescreen.'' He said. Charmander nodded and shut his mouth tight. Once again, he pressed the fluid into his mouth, but this time he did not swish it around. Soon it was a cloud of gas that filled is mouth and lungs. This was the hard part. He had to ignite and burn the fumes without opening his mouth. Clicking one's tongue of the roof of one's mouth became surprisingly more difficult with one's mouth held shut. He also had the problem that while his lungs were filled with turpentine vapor, he was unable to breathe. He tried, over and over to click his tongue and ignite the fumes. But soon he was coughing and desperately trying to breath. The gas cloud he coughed up exploded with a light pop, knocking the Charmander onto his back. Kakuna had already hardened his exterior in preparation for the impact. Even as the Charmander landed backwords, crashing down on top of his rider, Kakuna was unscathed.
"Not quite yet...'' Kakuna commented from the ground. Charmander sighed and picked himself up. ``What am I doing wrong?'' He asked. ``Learning a new move is not about just learning the method and theory. It is about technique and experience. Practice will yield results. Now take us home. Let's try again tomorrow.'' Kakuna said. Once again Charmander sighed, and then he started to climb down the cliff.
