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Mythra watched with satisfaction as her challenger’s Salazzle stumbled and finally succumbed, losing consciousness. The last of her opponent’s six. Gleefully she knelt down and held out her fist to her Azumarill. “Nice work.”
Her Pokemon joined her in a victory fist bump, much to her opponent’s consternation. Mythra stood and recalled Azumarill, returning her to her Pokeball. With a grin she looked across the battlefield at her challenger and planted a hand on her hip. “That makes four challenges and four losses. How many until you give up, Brighid?”
Brighid looked ready to tear chunks out of her stylish purple hair, but instead she just turned halfway away and scoffed. “As many as it takes. I refuse to keep losing to a simpleton like you.”
“Psh, simpleton? If you keep losing doesn’t that mean your strategies aren’t good enough? Heck, if you can’t learn from your defeats then aren’t you the simple one here?” The two of them exchanged glares, neither backing down. Mythra could feel her ire rising and almost demanded that they march right down to the Pokecenter to heal their Pokemon up for another battle. But that wouldn’t do. Brighid would have to fight her way back through the other three members of Alrest’s Elite Four before getting a chance to challenge Mythra again.
Mythra folded her arms over her chest and gave Brighid her best haughty stare. She couldn’t manage one that looked quite as regal as Brighid’s, but she was the winner here damn it! “Face it, you might have beat the other three, but in four battles you’ve yet to even make me bring out my ace. How do you expect to beat me, let alone the Champion?”
“With hard work and training of course. I’ve beaten the other members of your family and I’ll eventually succeed against you. Then I’ll tackle the Champion and take her place.” Brighid said it with such fierce determination and certainty that Mythra would have been taken aback, had she not already heard this three times before.
“Maybe you should start your training over from scratch. Even when you’ve brought a team with type advantages against me you’ve still lost. Face it, I’m too strong for you.” Mythra was used to being too strong. The only opponent she had ever lost against was her own sister Pneuma, the Champion of Alrest’s Pokemon League.
Their reign over the Pokemon League had become famous even in other regions. The only League whose Elite Four and Champion were all members of the same family. The triplets and their two brothers. Mythra would be damned if she let some snobby trainer who thought she was hot shit unseat one of them. Still, Mythra could begrudgingly admit that no other trainer kept coming back for more punishment. This was Brighid’s ninth Elite Four challenge. It had taken her six tries to even make it to Mythra.
It wasn’t like there weren’t other trainers who made it past her siblings. It was just that Mythra herself tended to so brutally crush her opponents that they never came back. Not her fault that they were too weak. There was just...something different about Brighid. She was haughty, ferocious, tenacious, stubborn, obnoxious, and, if Mythra was being honest with herself, fun to battle.
How long had it been since she had gotten a proper match that was fun? With Brighid she could let loose without feeling like she was breaking someone’s spirit and still remain confident in victory. Win-win.
Brighid placed her Pokeball case back into the purse she had set at her feet before the battle began. Because of course Miss Perfect Fashionista had to carry a purse even into a League challenge. Brighid flipped her hair over her shoulder, the lustrous purple locks seeming to shine under the overhead lighting. “I’ll best you eventually simpleton.”
Mythra flashed Brighid her best cocky smirk. “Bring it on. As many times as you like. Still, keep it up and I’ll start to think you’re just a masochist looking for punishment. You shouldn’t force your fetishes onto your Pokemon.”
“Fetishes? How dare you?” Brighid took a step forward so forcefully that Mythra was surprised the woman didn’t break her the heel of her pricey looking shoes. Ugh, she dressed like a damned diva. Why did Brighid even wear makeup to a battle?
“Hey, don’t get mad. I just call ‘em like I see ‘em. Best run along and get your team all healed up. The sooner you get trained back up the sooner you’ll be back, right?” As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she eagerly awaited that next challenge. Maybe next time Brighid would actually force her to bring out her ace.
“Oh I will be back. You’ll see. Just you wait!” Brighid turned heel and made her way out through the side exit, used to fast track defeated challengers back to the starting area of the Elite Four chambers. Sheesh, even the way the woman walked was haughty with an exaggerated sway to her hips.
Mythra gathered her things together and made her way out of the room via a hidden door that led to a waiting area. There she placed her Pokeballs onto a conveyor that would take them down to the Pokecenter so they could be healed and sent back up. Malos stood with his back up against the wall right next to the conveyor, looking supremely smug as always. “See, I told you she’d be back.”
Mythra rolled her eyes at her brother. “Sure, but if you didn’t keep losing I wouldn’t be forced to clean up your mess.”
Malos sneered at her in that frustrating way of his. “Aww, but don’t you want me to go easy on her? If I didn’t you wouldn’t get a chance to play with your little crush.”
She flipped him the bird and strode away. Sometimes there was no having a proper conversation with that jackass. Once she reached the other side of the room she plopped down in her favorite cushy armchair and let out a deep sigh. Across from her Alvis sat idly reading a book titled “A Brief History of Time”. Whatever that meant. “Can you believe Malos? Like I really wanted to see her again or something. Like he didn’t just get his ass kicked and now he’s making excuses.”
Alvis tilted the book down to gaze at her over the top of it. “Well, if you examine the matter carefully I believe you will discover that there is, to a certain extent, truth to his words.”
“Excuse me? What’s that mean?” Were both of her brothers ganging up on her now or something?
Alvis sighed and carefully placed a bookmark into its proper spot before closing the book and laying it down on his lap. “Mythra, each time she challenges you there comes an inevitable period of two to three days where you talk about Brighid nearly without stopping. What else are we supposed to think?”
“Uh, that she’s a pain in the ass? Besides, I don’t end up talking about her that much.” She didn’t, right? Right?
Mythra cast about for some backup and spotted the exact person she was hoping to see. Pyra at the counter on the other side of the room, cutting something up on a chopping board. Probably making snacks for them. “Pyra! Back me up here! Brighid’s just some annoyingly stubborn trainer. I don’t talk about her a bunch, right?”
Pyra seemed to shrink inward on herself and began to chop more frantically. “Please don’t involve me in this.”
“Huh? You’ve got to have some opinion! I’m not some schoolgirl eagerly awaiting her crush. Talk to these idiots won’t you?” Surely Pyra was on her side. They usually were like two sides of the same coin.
From his spot by the conveyor Malos chimed in saying, “More like a schoolboy bullying her crush.”
“Watch it jackass. You want me to show you how our teams match up?”
Malos let out a deep sardonic laugh. “Got me shaking in my boots over here. Want to know what Brighid does every time she makes it past me? Not after Pyra or Alvis. Just me.”
“I’m guessing I don’t give a shit, but that you’re going to tell me anyway.” He always did like to drag stuff out.
“Indeed! See, before moving on to your room she reapplies her make-up and adjusts her dress. Every single time. Guess she wants to look her best for you, but doesn’t care about the rest of us.” He laughed again, so deeply full of his irritating smug bullshit that even from his spot across from her Alvis rolled his eyes. Alvis did!
Brighid prettied herself back up before facing Mythra? That couldn’t be true, right? Not like it really mattered. It wasn’t like part of the fun of battling Brighid was getting to look at her or anything. Mythra just liked a good battle, that was all. “Psh, yeah whatever. Ugh, screw this. I’m outta here before Pneuma shows up and decides to rag on me too. Buncha bullies.”
Mythra stalked from the room and took the private elevator down to the bottom floor. Down and out until she reached the opening chamber of the League with all of its shops and its built-in Pokecenter. As she stomped her way towards the building’s exit she nearly ran directly into someone heading the same way. A certain someone dressed elegantly in blue and purple, tall and beautiful. Brighid.
Brighid seemed so stunned that she almost opened her eyes all the way. Almost. “Mythra...what are you doing out here?”
Frustration boiled up in Mythra and she snapped without thinking. “My family was pissing me off so I bolted. Needed some time away.”
“I see,” said Brighid slowly. “I can’t imagine what that’s like, having four siblings. I’m an only child.”
Mythra opened her mouth to respond and her stomach loudly rumbled. Her face flushed nearly the same red as Pyra’s hair as Brighid quirked an eyebrow at her. “Err, guess battling made me hungry.”
Brighid nodded briefly. “Yes, I understand. I was on my way to a cafe nearby to get a bite to eat myself.”
They stood there awkwardly, looking at each other as if expecting the other one to suddenly chuck a Pokeball. Mythra had felt more at ease staring down wild encounters in the tall grass. “So, uh...can...do you...want some company?”
This time Brighid’s eyes really did open all the way, but they narrowed again almost immediately. “Hmmm, yes, I suppose company wouldn’t be unpleasant. Even if it is a simpleton.” A small warm smile played across her features, telling of her true meaning.
“R-right. A-anyway, you’re buying.” She started for the exit again and Brighid moved in step with her.
“I’m buying? You asked to accompany me.”
“Sure, but you lost the battle. I’ll buy if you ever beat me.”
“If?”
“Yep. If.”
“Is that a promise?”
Mythra could practically hear Malos laughing at her from all the way on the top floor of the League building. Even so, she gave her honest answer. “It’s a promise.”