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Piers’s stage was his bedroom, hidden away in the loft, and his audience was the Zigzagoon that gazed up at him adoringly as he would jam with his guitar, stood up on his bed, crouching slightly to avoid slamming his head against the ceiling, or messing up the wild black and white dyed hair that he so meticulously styled. The music would thrum within his veins, blaring from the shitty amp that sat in the attic's dustiest corner. He would belt out his favourite tunes until his voice grew hoarse and strained, mauling at the skin of his throat with every word he croaked out. Hours would pass with his music making the building tremble until the neighbours would start banging at the walls, barking at him through the paper-thin concrete. If they got too irritated, they would complain to the landlord and God knows what would happen then…
Horror stories were whispered amongst the streets of Spikemuth. Anyone, from young children to those so old they could barely stand on their own anymore, kicked out of their homes, their landlords not showing a hint of remorse. A run-down town, the disgrace of Galar - every cry for help was tossed away and who knew how long this would last? What if it got worse? What if his little sister became one of those kids, malnourished and devoid of hope?
Hope.
What a foolish word, he thought, slumping down on his bed that creaked beneath his weight, letting out a weak chuckle. The shouts of the neighbours had subsided, but he could still hear his parents, spitting insults at each other in their thick Spikemuth accents. A sound so common that it was nothing more than background noise to him, but it came with the promise of his sister running into his room, eyes filled with tears, asking why two people who were supposed to love each other were unable to go a day without fighting, covering her ears at every raised voice and every shattered plate. Today was no different.
Marnie’s head was hung low as she crept into her brother’s room, closing the door as gently as she could. She sniffed and clumsily wiped her nose and eyes with the sleeve of Piers’s old jacket from when he first started school. It was far too big for her - it fell down to her knees and she had tripped over it countless times.
“Hey, Marn,” Piers jumped off his bed, lowering himself to his sister’s height. She never looked him in the eyes, either staring down at the ground or just past his shoulder, as if she had spotted something just out of sight. “What’s up?”
“They for-” she sobbed, burrowing her face into her sleeves. “They forgot my birthday.”
“Oh, shit,” Piers stood up abruptly, ignoring Marnie’s gasp at his colourful use of language. “Well, we gotta celebrate your birthday, huh?”
Her red, blotchy face lit up, tears still flowing but now laced with a quiet. “Can we go to Hammerlocke, please?”
“Don’t think we can do that Marn, sorry,” he grimaced at Marnie’s sullen response. “But! I got a surprise for you!”
She gazed up at him, watching him grab a Dusk Ball from under his bed. “What is it?”
“Can’t tell ya, it’s a surprise,” he teased, waving the ball in her face. “Now, follow me!”
The two siblings and Piers’s Zigzagoon ran down the narrow stairs, deftly avoiding the splinters and rusty nails that poked out of the walls and floor. Their parents didn’t notice the door slam close behind them; it was too quiet over their thundering voices. Spikemuth’s buildings were a blur, whizzing past them while they raced through the streets of the rowdy town. Piers let Marnie win, as usual, and she cheered as she reached the flimsy gate that marked the town’s exit, leading out into the grass.
“I won!” she laughed, spinning around in glee. “Was that the surprise?”
“Nope!” Piers grinned, still holding the empty Dusk Ball, his Zigzagoon close behind him. “Marn, what do you think of Pokémon?”
She sharply inhaled the morning’s bitter air. “I love them,” she whispered, hands over her face.
“We’re gonna get you your very own Pokémon,” he stepped out onto Route Nine, embracing the icy breeze that pierced his skin. “Right here, right now.”
Marnie jumped up and down, too stunned to speak, laughing as she watched her brother step out into the grass that was as tall as she was. He skulked through, closely and carefully, transfixed on the bushes that swayed in the gentle wind.
There was a twitch. He froze, holding out the Pokéball.
Something small lurched out of the grass. Marnie screamed.
“Ziggy, go!” he roared, his Zigzagoon bolting towards the attacker. “Tackle!”
It hit the rodent-like creature in the chest, knocking it backwards as it protested with a zap of electricity that bounced off the Zigzagoon’s fur, as if it was nothing more than drizzle.
Piers threw the Pokéball at it while it lay face-down in the grass, the thing morphing into a cloud of shadowy light, being sucked into the ball. It wriggled inside it for a few moments; he crossed his fingers.
One…
Two…
Three…
Click!
“Yes!” he pumped the air and Marnie clapped her hands, cheering.
“You caught it!” she cried, running towards him, tripping through the grass. “Can I see?”
“We gotta get these two healed up, first,” Piers beamed. “And then she’s all yours.”
Spikemuth’s Pokémon Centre, unlike the others throughout Galar, was adorned with red LED lights rather than the usual hot pink ones and was filled with Gym Trainers who shot the siblings dirty looks. Marnie hid behind her brother, gripping his hand tightly, her eyes fixed on the dusty tile floor.
“Hey, would ya heal these two for us?” he grunted, his shoulders tensed.
“‘Course,” the nurse shrugged, not looking at Piers. She avoided everyone's gaze and never said more than a few words at a time. She healed the Pokémon in silence, giving an apathetic nod when thanked.
He could feel the stares of the Gym Trainers boring into the back of his skull as the two left. Was it out of spite or malice, or were they simply burned out from being buried beneath Galar’s dirt? Did the hope of the youth inspire them, or bring them down? The lingering stares did nothing to cleanse the frustration that lived in Piers’s heart - in Spikemuth’s heart. Galar was the armour that covered the disease that was this town.
The siblings stepped back out onto Route Nine, heading towards the berry tree that they so often sat beneath on mild summer days, the sun always hidden behind charcoal-grey clouds. It cast a shadow along the grass, a quiet patch where the rain wouldn’t fall quite as harshly.
Piers handed his sister the Dusk Ball he had used. “Why don’t you let ‘em out?”
She looked up at him. “Are you sure? What if she hurts me?”
“Ziggy and I will protect ya, don’t worry.”
Marnie hesitated, staring at the ball in wonder. It was made from smooth, icy-cold metal and goosebumps emerged on her skin the longer she held it. She squinted her eyes shut, looking away as she threw it into the air.
The cloud of purple shadows appeared once again, moulding itself into the shape of the rodent-like creature Piers caught. It stared up at the two, squeaking with curiosity.
“Hey, little guy,” he stretched out his hand for it to sniff. “A Morpeko, huh?”
Marnie opened her eyes, watching the Pokémon run towards her in awe. She froze as it crawled closer.
“Let it come to you, okay?” Piers assured her. “She won’t hurt you, I promise. She seems pretty docile.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly and she copied her brother’s slow, cautious movements. The Morpeko bounded towards her, nuzzling into her hand.
“Hey, she likes you!” he grinned, pulling a berry from the tree above him. “Here, give her this. They can get pretty hangry so you gotta feed them a lot.”
Marnie nodded, a smile creeping onto her face as she fed the Pokémon, who devoured the berry as if she hadn’t eaten in years. “What’re they called, again?”
“Morpeko!”
She frowned, intimidated by the string of syllables. “Mor… uh… Mor…”
“Morpeko,” he said slowly.
“Peko!” she beamed, scratching the Pokémon behind the ear. “I wanna call her Peko.”
“Go ahead!” Piers laughed. “Much easier to say anyway.”
She giggled as her Morpeko gnawed on her fingers, eager for another berry. “Hello, Peko.”
“You can be like me now,” he remarked, leaning back against the trunk of the tree. “You can be a Pokémon Trainer. Maybe you can even do the Gym Challenge someday.”
“Maybe I can become the next Champion!” Marnie’s eyes were twinkling. “I’m gonna beat Leon!”
“That kid?” Piers scoffed. “He’s what, ten years old? They’re gonna demolish him next year, trust me, Marn. There’ll be a new Champion by the time you’re old enough to compete.”
“How old do you gotta be to compete?”
He shrugged. “Don’t think there’s an age requirement, but ten’s pretty young to be doing it. Mum and Dad won’t let me do it until I’m sixteen.”
Marnie’s face fell. “So I gotta be sixteen, too?”
“Nah, you’re gonna have so much talent that they gotta let you do it earlier,” her brother playfully flicked the side of her head, laughing. “Maybe you’ll be the next Leon! Ten years old and already Champion.”
“I’m gonna become Champion when I’m nine,” she said, crossing her arms. “Then I’ll be even better than Leon!”
“Hell yeah!” Piers pulled her into a tight side-hug which she squirmed to get out of. “You and Peko are gonna be the best team Galar’s ever seen! And all of Spikemuth is gonna be cheering you on, ‘K?”
“Okay!” Marnie grinned, pulling away from him, running back towards Spikemuth. “Me and Peko are gonna race home! I wanna show her to Mum and Dad so they let me compete!”
“Wait for me, Marn!”
They left the berry tree standing right where it was before, gently swaying in the wind, not a sign that anyone was there apart from the discarded seeds that were littered across the grass, blackened slightly with sparks, and the sounds of laughter and pounding footsteps echoing from the town’s edge, and one less Morpeko scurrying throughout the nearby bushes.
It was a chilly morning on Route Nine, a morning almost like any other, that may have changed the fate of Galar forever.