Hello again, everyone. What follows is my second Pokémon fanfic, which I began writing in late November of ’04. This is the story of the glalie Solonn Zgil-Al, a character from my previous fic, The Origin of Storms
. While reading that story isn’t crucial to understanding this one, I’ll go ahead and suggest that you read it, as well, because why wouldn’t I? Heh heh heh…
The PG-13 rating is for violence, adult situations, mild language, and other things that are just not very cheerful. Discretion is advised.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Pokémon. Any resemblance or reference to any real persons, places, things, or ideas is purely coincidental and unintentional unless explicity stated otherwise by the author. Opinions and statements expressed in this story do not necessarily reflect those of the author. Views expressed by one or more members of any given species within the context of this story are not intended to represent the views of all members of that species within the context of this story or any other context. This story does not strictly or entirely adhere to any form of the established Pokémon canon.
Chapter 1 – Foreign Relations
In the depths of Shoal Cave, unknown to humanity at large and almost completely untouched by other species of pokémon, there was a place known by the snorunt and glalie who called it home as Virc-Dho. Here, in a cavern whose ice-covered surfaces glittered eerily in the glow given off by her eyes, a glalie by the name of Azvida Zgil-Al sat waiting.
Azvida was waiting for two things and in two separate ways. She was watching, staring intently at a round, black, featureless egg that was now beginning to shake slightly a couple of times each minute. She was also listening, waiting for the first sign of an approach that was none too quick in coming.
Invoking the power of her element, the glalie spontaneously generated a small heap of snow, which she arranged in a ring around the increasingly animated egg. She knew that the baby would be ravenous upon hatching, which would be soon—very
soon. Already, the first, tiniest vocalizations were starting to emanate through the shell.
A grinding sound in the distance caught Azvida’s attention then. Its volume made her wince, not only out of physical discomfort but also concern over others hearing it. She had told him emphatically that he needed to make as inconspicuous an entrance as possible… but, as she reminded herself, the very nature of just what
the approaching creature was surely made that especially difficult for him.
Keeping the egg at the edge of her vision, Azvida only partly turned toward him as he came to a stop in the shadows nearby. “Hello, Grosh.”
Grosh only grunted in response, his face looking almost ghostly in what little of Azvida’s cyan light touched it.
Azvida’s attention was quickly monopolized by the egg again as it gave an almighty lurch, rolling straight into the snow that had been piled in front of it. The glalie inhaled with a long, rattling hiss and held her breath, anxiously watching the event that was unfolding before her eyes. The egg gave one last rustle, accompanied by a series of particularly sharp squeaks from within its confines. Then, with a tiny crack
, something small and very pointed broke through the shell. With something of a drilling motion, the tip of a cone-shaped head continued to emerge from the hole it had made, cracking it open wider and wider until finally the egg simply fell apart.
Amidst the broken eggshells, there now sat a tiny male snorunt. He tried to stand up, only to immediately fall right over. His conical body rolled pitifully as he attempted in vain to right himself.
Azvida could not suppress the gale of hissing laughter that came forth then out of sheer elation. She rose from the ground and descended upon the snorunt, picking him up very gently and carefully and then setting him upright once more.
Her son blinked up at her in curiosity for a moment. Then he noticed the fresh, powdery snow that surrounded him, and he became oblivious to all else.
Azvida grinned brightly at her new baby. She then looked into the shadows at her side. “Look, Grosh,” she said, her voice alight with pure wonder. “Look at your son. Isn’t he beautiful? Why don’t you come closer? Don’t you want to see him?”
The shadowed form of Grosh stirred in the darkness. His eyes turned their sight upon the newborn—then turned away. The rest of Grosh immediately followed.
“Grosh, wait!” Azvida called to him. But Grosh kept moving on, scattering many rocks and chunks of ice in his wake. Within seconds, he was gone, back into the shadows from whence he’d come—never to return, Azvida was certain.
The new mother sighed. “It’ll just be us, then,” she said as she set herself back down before her son. No surprise,
she thought, yet nonetheless she could not deny the pang of disappointment that she felt at Grosh’s departure. “We’ll have to be everything for each other. But I know we can,” she said, hoping to sound reassuring.
Not that it mattered to the snorunt. He was too focused on the snow, which he was devouring voraciously. Once he’d eaten his fill, he discovered that he could also play in the snow, and he quickly became as engrossed in that activity as he’d been in the one before it.
Azvida smiled again. “Now, what to call you?” she wondered aloud. She thought about it for a little while, rejecting several potential candidates for her son’s name until one that felt right to her finally came to her mind.
“I know exactly the right name for you,” Azvida said triumphantly. “You shall be called Solonn.”
* * *
A little over seven years into his life, Solonn was deemed old enough to go up to the snowgrounds where he could meet and play with other children. But to get to the snowgrounds, one first had to make one’s way through a rather long series of tunnels, much to his displeasure. This was the farthest that he’d ever had to walk; it was proving to be rather tiring, not to mention quite slow compared to being carried in his mother’s jaws. But since he was getting too big for that, moving himself by the power of his own two feet was the mode of transportation with which he was now stuck.
That, combined with the fact that the tunnel through which he and his mother traveled looked practically the same through yard after yard, caused his patience to run out fairly quickly. “Are we there yet?” he finally asked, unable to keep himself from whining a bit as he did so.
“Almost,” Azvida answered, gliding along a few inches off the ground at less than half of her usual pace so as to let the snorunt’s tiny feet keep up with her. “I told you, you’ll know right away when we get there. It’s very different from this place and from every other place you’ve seen.”
Solonn thought rather grumpily.
Shortly thereafter, they arrived at last at the snowgrounds. Solonn saw at once that his mother had been right about this place—it was
different. It was a huge, open space, nothing at all like the close confines of the winding tunnels and small caverns that made up the warren in which he lived.
What he found most remarkable about this place was not its size, however. Rather, it was the fact that the floor of this vast cavern was entirely blanketed in sparkling, white snow
, just begging a snorunt to dive right in—which is precisely what Solonn did.
Azvida laughed. “Have fun with the other kids,” she said, her son poking his head out of the snow at her words. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she turned and exited, leaving Solonn behind in the field of snow.
Solonn watched her leave, wishing that she would stay and wondering why she didn’t. He also wondered where those “other kids” of which his mother had spoken were. He didn’t see anyone else there…
With absolutely no warning, something burst out of the snow, launching out right in front of his face.
“Aaah!” Solonn was scared right off of his feet. He tumbled over backwards and landed upside-down, his pointed head sticking in the snow, his short legs kicking uselessly.
He then heard a sound—laughter
. Someone was laughing at him—and grabbing his feet. He screamed again as whoever it was started pulling on his legs, which was rather painful. His ambusher didn’t relent until Solonn was quite suddenly extracted from the snow and sent flying from his grasp, landing in the snow several feet away with a whumpf
(and blessedly not landing on his head this time).
Solonn managed to right himself fairly quickly, and as he was doing so, he heard footsteps approaching him. He turned to face the sound and found another snorunt, one who came to a stop a short distance before him. It seemed that he
was the one who’d given Solonn that scare.
Solonn’s eyes flashed in anger. He lunged at the other snorunt, snapping his teeth and missing him by only a fraction of an inch.
The other snorunt jumped backward away from Solonn, staring back in surprise for a moment. Then he burst out into laughter once more. The moment he did, though, Solonn looked as though he might try to bite him again, making him fall silent in a hurry. He backed up a bit farther and held out his hands as if to keep Solonn at bay.
“Hey! It’s okay!” the other snorunt said. “I didn’t mean to scare you… well, not that
Solonn hesitated, giving a frown of uncertainty.
“I’m sorry,” the other snorunt said earnestly. “It was just a joke.” He approached Solonn again, albeit a bit gingerly. “I’m Zilag. Who are you?”
Solonn hesitated a moment before answering. “…Solonn,” he said finally. “Are there any other kids here?” he then asked warily.
“Yeah. They’re hiding,” Zilag answered. “Come on out,” he called out, then added, “and don’t scare him!”
At Zilag’s call, twelve other snorunt popped up out of their hiding places beneath the snow. Solonn remained quite wary of them at first, but through the minutes that passed, they seemed to heed Zilag’s advice; no one attempted to frighten him or to otherwise make a joke at his expense. By the time his mother returned to take him home, Solonn had managed to shed his distrust and reluctance almost completely. As he departed the snowgrounds, he found himself looking forward to returning there.
* * *