Peace, an Interruption of War
The young Eevee sat in the warm, dew covered grass. The bright and warm rays of sun light licked the grass, sending a warming sensation that spread like sunshine coming out of an overly happy villager. Eevee's eyes were squinted under the embrace of the sun, but it was not unpleasant. It was rather, out of reflex. Eevee and her good friend, Machop, liked to start from this point and search for berries during the warm Spring mornings.
However, despite this urge to search for berries with her dear friend, she went alone into the field. The grass field she gently sauntered through showed obvious signs of scarring. A battle had gone on for years. But, this was a time passed. A time that was apart of history. Eevee sighed to herself, "Funny how they call it history when all it does is affect modern decisions."
War had erupted seven years ago, when Eevee was only sixteen years old, and her friend Machop was only seventeen. Back then, they were friends, but not in the strictest sense. As a matter of fact, they had grown fond of each other only because of the tension created by the old conflict. They had only truly known each other for a while before then. And during that short duration, Eevee actually treated Machop with scorn and contempt.
The conflict that softened their relationship lasted for two years. Thousands of Pokemon had fallen. The grass Eevee's paws treaded over were grown out of the sweat and blood of comrades. However, Eevee was too young to fight during that time. She only remembered having to tend to the small children that were kept from the dangers of combat. The final battle decided the fate of the war. "Machop is a dear friend to me," said Eevee. A small young mouse, a Plusle, climbed out of a bush in the middle of the never ending prairie.
Eevee smiled at the innocent and childish gaze of the four-year old Plusle. "What are you doing, Eevee. Everyone is wondering where you are in the village."
Eevee replied in a soft tone, "I am waiting for a friend." And as she said this she found a small helmet, left over from the war. It was Machop-shaped...
Plusle remembered that day like it was yesterday, and as he marched in the ranks of soldiers, he realized a grave mistake. The sky was green and yellow-tinted. Lightning tore throughout the sky and excessive rains created nothing bud mud in the trenches. Yelling and screaming could be heard from the center of the field. Plusle clutched his crossbow. The creatures were not only using their natural powers, but used unnatural weaponry as well.
His mistake was exactly what the old Machop he never knew did. He did not advance on the love that he had met. And, he might never see her again. But, it was too late now. The Wartortle sergeant barked out a command. His nickname given throughout the ranks of soldiers was a comedic, T.A. Though nobody really did not know where it came from or what it meant, they named him that regardless. "Get your warm bodies moving! We are getting ready for a charge!"
All the Pokemon's faces sank upon hearing this news, a very poetic Corphish spoke, "When a wave comes across the rocky surface, it breaks apart, sir. We will do the same!"
Wartortle looked at the Corphish, "Well, I know that. I think you lads fail to realize that not only am I going out there with you, but I am responsible for all your sorry butts!"
All the younger recruits rolled their eyes, knowing this to be true but simply ignoring it as all teens did. But as the roars of anger and war rose to an even higher volume, to Plusle time seemed to slow. They were halfway across the field when nothing but thousands of piercing "swooshes" could be heard. Pops of bubbles, gushing flames, and razor sharp leaves mixed in with arrows hailed down on all creatures around Plusle. The Garchomp in front of Plusle yelled out in agonizing pain as it flew backwards, nearly landing on Plusle. Plusle only looked back long enough to see a female Vulpix stop to pull the wounded creature, with an arrow sticking out of its chest, and she met a razor sharp leaf that ripped through her. Soldiers were dropping like flies all around Plusle.
The carnage disgusted Plusle, and scared him even more as any of this extreme violence would. He saw T.A, the Wartortle Sergeant behind a sizable rock along with a few smart soldiers. Most clang to their spears, others crying as they read a Bible. Funny how horrendous situations, you all of the sudden renounce your Atheism, and for that moment believe in the unbelievable. But, Plusle had no time to think. He ran, leaping over an occasional mangled or mud covered body to get to the cover. He was nearly there when... cold. Nothingness. Fear soared through his throat and he let out a small yelp as Plusle fell to the muddy earth.
Plusle laid there, blinking, and with each blink, the picture got more distorted. T.A scurried over to Plusle, and performed an act of heroism, pulling him behind the all-natural stone barricade.
A Pichu stood in the streets. A small parade was held, festooned with ornaments of all shapes and sizes to honor the dead. But the Pichu waited for a friend. An old friend...
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