Chapter Text
The first time it happened she was only three years old. It was one of her first memories, really, and it was a pleasant half haze of colors, her long dark hair being caught in the psychic updraft, and a pretty floating stone. It had made her laugh but it had made her parents take her far more seriously from that point onward. Everything about being a psychic seemed to be incredibly serious if her parents had any say in the discussion. To Sabrina Sheehy, at least at the age of three, it had meant being given a sweet, fat little abra she had dubbed Doyle. As serious as being a psychic might be, learning to communicate with Doyle remained one of the best experiences of Sabrina’s life. The rest of it had its ups and downs.
The training her parents impressed upon her to heighten her naturally impressive powers went back and forth between soul crushing and fulfilling. After all, were there not few things better than giving something your all and actually seeing improvements in the results? Sabrina knew her parents loved her but sometimes she did wonder if they saw her as person or merely “the gifted Sabrina, heir to the Sheehy psychics”. They certainly treated both personas equally so analyzing it too hard wasn’t worth her time. She played the dutiful daughter while the sun was up, trained at breaking through the mental barriers of lesser psychics and throwing objects, trained at using energy to hurt and to heal (this she wasn’t very good at) and worked to form a strong connection with Doyle. At night though… at night, she was Sabrina alone.
As often as she could she waited until her parents were asleep (when she was younger this was an extremely difficult task and she often drifted off) and then, once she was absolutely sure, she and Doyle snuck out the window and into the marshes. Training had its moments but the marshes were what Sabrina loved. Wading in the water and squishing her bare feet in the engorged grass were just the beginning. She got to know every type of Pokemon who lived there and, with the pudgy Doyle snuggled in her arms, managed to be on good terms with almost all of them. She knew and climbed every tree she could find, few as they were, and walked every inch of the marshland that had been the homeland of her family for generations.
Sneaking out was probably unbecoming of someone of her status but Sabrina felt she made up for it by acquiring that real love of the marshes and a true respect of what her family did. What they had done as long as anyone could remember and would do as long as one Sheehy lived and breathed: tested warriors. Every few weeks another challenger would walk into her family’s mansion, the picturesque landscape clear in the windows behind the room where they would battle, and try to defeat her father’s Pokemon. It was far from an easy thing to do and less than one in ten managed to succeed. This was, of course, only right.
Her family was one of eight that tested young warriors and their teams to see if they had what it took to become royal guards for the king. If they defeated one member of all eight families in two separate tests, one for their Pokemon team and one for them alone, they were allowed to challenge the four most powerful royal guards. Then, and only then, were they allowed the incredible honor of serving and protecting the great King Samuel and his family. The challengers were sometimes impressive, in their way, sometimes utterly incompetent and sometimes just completely middle of the road. It was difficult to imagine any of them as royal guards, at least for Sabrina. It just seemed like such an important job, one only for someone exceptional. Someday she would have to be one of the people deciding which of them had that… something inside them.
“Sabrina!” Her father’s voice rang sharply from the house. Her trainer immediately stopped trying to break her mental barriers and stood at attention. Sabrina crossed her arms, looking at the trainer with amusement. He hadn’t gotten past her first layer of defenses today and she was a little disappointed. Her father briefly acknowledged the trainer as he stepped outside and then turned his attention to her. “Sabrina, we have a challenger. Would you care to watch?”
It was barely a question. Her father thought it was important for her to see every match. She didn’t particularly mind- it sure broke up the monotony of constant training- but she didn’t see how every single challenger was important to her grooming to become head of the family. “Of course, father.” She followed him through the wide doorway, the broad wooden doors at the side. It was always open during the day, for the ease of the challengers, and Sabrina thought the battle hall was rather drafty because of it. It was truly beautiful, though, she would give it that.
It was a huge room, decorated in shades of purple, the curtains over the windows that looked out on the marsh draped, flowing and very much to her mother’s taste. On the floor was the image of two concentric golden circles, a representation of the badge the Sheehys gave out to prove the challengers’ victory. Within it was where every battle took place. The trainer was already waiting on his side of the field, head down. He looked young, maybe younger than Sabrina herself- she was all of fifteen- and he had hair so blond it was nearly white. She couldn’t see his eyes, the angle of his head and his hair made that impossible, but she did note he was on the taller side, skinny, pale. There were five pokeballs on his belt and his left hand, pressed to his leg, was toying with a sixth. Well, at least this might be a longer battle even if his team was utterly pathetic.
Her father went onto his side of the field and Sabrina went to sit into a purple cushioned chair beside her mother. Her mother gave her a smile and a nod, patting Sabrina’s folded hands on her lap. “This is a young one, isn’t it? They usually don’t make it this far for a few more years, at least.”
“I hope he lives up to our expectations.” Sabrina shrugged noncommittally. It wasn’t too rare for a young challenger to make it this far- they were allowed to start training Pokemon at ten and allowed to begin trying for the royal guard at twelve. This boy, who was probably fourteen, had been at it for two years and likely had four or five other badges to show for it. It was impressive, yes, but not unprecedented. It just took commitment, as everything worth it did. “Do you suppose he’s going to be another one who has loaded his team with dark Pokemon rather than using ones he’s really trained?”
“I suppose we’ll see. I don’t think he seems the type.” Her mother shrugged.
“Challenger, I welcome you to my home and to my battlefield. Here, in the marshes of the Sheehy family, we will test not only your skill as a trainer but your commitment to this journey you’ve undertaken. Your very mind.” Her father tapped the side of his head and put on a winning smile. It was theatrical, and he did it every time, but he always managed to make it look sincere. Sabrina liked that little quirk of a smile. It made him look more like a father than a head of a household. “In order to earn the Marsh Badge you must defeat me in battle and you must defeat my wife’s extraordinary gift.” He indicated Sabrina’s mother with a wave of his hand, his red sleeve swishing dramatically. He always wore red, they all did. It matched the unusual shade of their eyes, added to the mystery of her and her father’s dark hair. “Are you ready to accept, Challenger? There is no turning back once you do.”
“Yes,” the boy said, very quietly. His voice sounded rusty, unused, but it was clear it was deep.
Her father lowered his hand and then raised it again slowly. A platform rose in front of the boy, a simple square that slid in and out of the floor with eight slots in it. “Place your badges in their appropriate places. If you should lose this battle, you will not get them back and will have to begin your journey again.” This was true of every certification match, but her father had to say it all the same.
“Then I will not lose.” The boy’s mouth twitched upwards. His voice sounded powerful too, somehow. Sabrina had no idea why. He wouldn’t even raise his head. He just clicked all his badges into place- five, she noted- and raised the hand with the pokeball, clicking the center to make it larger, as the platform sunk back into the floor.
“Tell us your name, Challenger, and we may begin.”
“I have no true name. Call me what you will.”
“I shall call you Deux, for you are the second challenger I’ve faced this week.”
At this, the challenger smiled and raised his head. Sabrina sharply took in breath. He had wide, purple eyes. She had never seen quite that color before. Her skin began to prickle and she knew, suddenly and with absolute certainty, that he was a psychic. A psychic with shields over his mind so strong she could only even get a hint of this when his eyes were in full view. She looked over at her mother, whose hands had clawed slightly in her lap. Was her mother… scared?
Before Sabrina could decide this one way or another, her father had snapped his fingers and his Venomoth had descended from the ceiling. Deux... well, what else was she supposed to call him?... tossed the pokeball he had already chosen and released a fearow. The bird cried out and the two combatants swirled high into the air. The Fearow looked old, its legs covered with scars and some of its feathers just flat out gone. Its eyes went white and for a moment Sabrina thought it was blind before circles of gray-purple energy surrounded it and shot towards her father’s Venomoth, Finola. Finola dodged carefully and the waves that indicated a supersonic attack appeared. Sabrina nodded, confirming her suspicions. The boy was a psychic and he was communicating with his pokemon mentally, just like her father was.
Sabrina expected the fearow to start flying in circles, it’s previously aggressive attacks turned in toward its own body. Instead, the fearow’s expression seemed to harden and it shot at Finola like an arrow, its perfectly timed drill peck felling her in seconds. Her father went into a slow, sarcastic clap as the mansion’s medical Chansey, Bonnie, gently took Finola from the field.
“What incredible focus your bird has.” The sound of her father’s final clap rang in the air. “Let’s see if your fearow can keep this up, shall we?” He waved his hand and a female Mr. Mime, who everyone lovingly referred to as “Mrs. Mime”, waddled out onto the field. Catrina was Doyle’s mother and the mate of Sabrina’s father’s strongest pokemon, Blair the alakazam. She didn’t look like much- she even tended to wear flowery aprons, though today she sported a red bow- but Sabrina knew she actually packed quite a punch.
Doyle found his way to Sabrina’s lap then, settling in to watch his mother. Sabrina stroked his head, finding she needed the soothing. Deux didn’t talk much- some of these warriors really babbled- but something about him was… intimidating. Nearly charismatically so. Her eyes fixed on the bird as the energy of Hidden power gathered around it again. Mrs. Mime put up a bright shield, her nearly human smile getting bigger. The energy slammed into it ineffectually making the fearow cry out in what sounded like frustration. Mrs. Mime dropped the shield and lifted her hands, a swirling psybeam weaving between them. It hit the distractedly angry Fearow head on and it came plummeting down to earth.
It shrieked at her as it landed, bothering Mrs. Mime not at all, and opened its mouth to launch an attack of its own. Mrs. Mime closed her eyes and focused, seeming to absorb the powerful looking tri attack, and return with another psybeam, knocking out the old bird. Sabrina gave a little relieved smile, letting out a long breath, when Bonnie went forward to retrieve the bird. Her father could still win this, he still had Blair and Mrs. Mime wasn’t even winded. For some reason, Sabrina desperately wanted her father to win this one. Something about this made her so uneasy.
Sabrina felt a terrible queasiness course through her. She stood, hands clutched on the arms of her chair, Doyle having to float to not fall to the ground.
Her mother looked up at her with worry. “Are you alright, honey? You look sick. Perhaps you should be excused and go lie down.”
Sabrina just nodded and ran off, Doyle floating after her. She didn’t know if he made it through the door of her room before she slammed it behind her, or if he teleported after her after it closed, all she knew was that he was holding her hair back with his clumsy paws as her breakfast spilled onto the floor. The vision that came next- the ability of a seer that had always graced the Sheehy family- shook her like an earthquake. She just trembled and trembled, the floor spinning before her crimson eyes, her fingers spread carefully away from the edges of her sick and her last grip on reality- Doyle’s paws in her dark hair- were all she could force herself to think about.
In her vision, she saw her mansion. It looked the same as it always did but there was something… off. Sabrina wandered through, her whole body glowing blue, a ghost in a house that looked quickly abandoned. Playing cards were strewn on the floor, psychic residue still clinging to them. Clothes had fallen onto the stairs, the laundry basket at the bottom cracked and broken. The battle hall, where her feet were taking her, looked as it always did. She almost didn’t see the red-brown liquid pool her suddenly bare feet trod through, even though she could feel the sticky wetness on the soles of her feet. Sabrina’s eyes lifted when her walking stopped and she felt herself open her mouth to scream but she couldn’t scream.
Everything was burning. Tornadoes of fire swirled through the marsh, destroying flora and fauna alike, leaving a sickening smell of burning flesh in the air. Somewhere, she heard her father shouting to his team, desperate, trying to find them. She heard her mother, her voice shrill, calling her name over and over. Sabrina tried to answer but she couldn’t make a sound, couldn’t even move. Around her, the sickening smell got worse and worse and worse and she realized that the area was burning around her. That she was on fire and her skin was crackling. Dazed, she lifted a burning hand and started at the strangely blue fire. Before she could register that she was feeling no pain, someone landed in front of her with barely a sound.
Sabrina looked into Deux’s hypnotic purple eyes, watched him as he gave her a snakelike smile and raised his hand. For a moment, he blinked in and out of existence, and there was a… thing standing there. A bizarre, twisted cat-like pokemon on two legs, its tail swishing behind it, its narrowed eyes so full of hatred that she broke from her frozen state long enough to tremble. Then Deux was back, his hand- or paw?- around her neck, blue psychic energy sinking into her skin. He lifted her from the ground, grip tightening, face looking less and less human. Sabrina finally screamed, her voice trembling but furious. Wind swirled around her and whipped at her attacker, her eyes glowed, his fingers loosened their grip and she dropped to the floor, her whole body burning with pain. As she pushed to her feet, punching forward blindly, he disappeared. Everything, for a moment, disappeared.
Then she was back in her room, on the hard wooden floor, Doyle’s paws in her hair again. Sabrina realized that she was crying and she felt so angry that she could barely think. All she could see was Deux’s face before her eyes. Standing through sheer force of will, Sabrina ran into her bathroom, splashing water on her face and brushing her teeth in a hurricane of motion. She glared at her own reflection, barely resisting the urge to punch the glass, and straightened her clothes; put her hair back in place. When she faced Deux, she would not be wrathful Sabrina, fighting for her family, she would be Sabrina, put together, honorable heir to the Sheehy family. She tapped the mirror with her knuckles and then took the still worried, levitating Doyle into her arms.
“He will not hurt my family and he will not destroy my land,” Sabrina told him. Doyle twisted his head, looking up at her. She sent the vision to him and she heard him swallow, and saw him shake his head. “We can never let that happen.”