The Pokemon Philosophy

[Isabelle]

The next day, Medicham showed Lopunny a new ability. With a sudden jolt, he would disappear and reappear somewhere else. She was reminded of teleportation; a power that used to give her Master a migraine when out trying to catch abras. However, he made it very clear that he wasn’t actually teleporting, but moving incredibly fast. An hour-long meditation session later and she had the same power.
Medicham would set up targets all over the place. With a jolt, the world around her moved passed her faster than she could manage. She missed the first target by a long shot. Situating herself towards the next one, she did another jolt, this time barely landing the target with a jumping spin kick.
She would dash from target to target, punching and kicking them in. While she felt her energy draining with each dash, she soon started to have fun. Laughing with a big smile on her face as the world goes by in a flash and another target gets smashed to bits.
With that technique understood, she wound up taking a nap after lunch from the exhaustion.

When she slowly woke from her slumber, she noticed that Medicham had set up a small wood manikin target.
“Now that you’re refreshed, I have a small exercise for you.” He said.
She scrambled onto her feet and quickly got in front of the target.
“Can you please use your Fire Punch on the dummy?”
Lopunny nodded at his request. With a bit of build up, she launched her fist into it with all her might, but she was shocked to see that only her plain hand was thudding against the grain.
She looked at her fist quizzically.
She tried again, this time trying an Ice Punch, but once again, no effect. She tried again with the Thunder Punch, again, nothing. Medicham shook his head.
“It’s as I had feared… You forgot them.”
Lopunny looked towards Medicham, then back at her palm.
‘Forgot them?’ She thought to herself, horrified.
Thinking back, she remembered other moves she used to know. Pound, Quick Attack, she guessed these were the moves she just got back. But why did she forget them in the past? Why did she forget? It logically made no sense. And why did she have to forget now? Medichan sighed.
“To make our transition to servitude more clean, we as a species, have limited ourselves to only four moves so it would be easier for even the youngest of our masters to give commands” He began. “What was for you Bounce, Fire Punch, Ice Punch, and Thunder Punch, is now Bounce, Pound, Detect, and Quick Attack… or would it be Extreme Speed? I don’t know in this context.”
Lopunny wasn’t even paying his conundrum any mind. She was too busy slowly freaking out.
“But… I… How do I get them back!?” She yelled exasperated.
Medicham, finally take note of her panic, grabbed hold of he shoulders to hold her still and looked her straight in the eyes.
“When you’ve accepted that you are a Prime, that you are no longer bound to those rules. It is then that your moves will return.”
He turns her back towards the dummy.
“Now try them again and remember what you are.”
He stepped away. Looking the dummy directly in its wooden face, she takes a deep breath.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Holds it.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5
Releases
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10
Her mind experiencing a brief moment of clarity, she rears her arm back.
‘I’m a prime. I command my own destiny…’ She thought to herself.
And as soon as that thought came left her head, she launched her fist into the dummy as hard as she could.
No fire.
She tried again.
No ice.
Her fist clenched hard and her teeth gritted, she tried again.
No thunder.


For the rest of the day, she would continue to punch that manikin, over and over again; her screams of frustration getting more and more intense with each failure. Medicham would try to get her to go to dinner with the Gorons, but she would refuse him, continuing to punch that dummy over and over and over, to the same effect. He stuck around for as long as he could, but eventually even he gave up, going off to wherever he sleeps at night.
It wasn’t until very late that she would turn in. Her body heavy from all the exertion of the day, she lumbered over to her bed, falling flat against its surface.
She remembered all those times those punches would impress her master, she remembered the impressed look on his when she’d set her fist on fire, or encase in ice, or sent lightning through a touch. To a 5-year-old, having a pokemon who could do that made him the coolest kid in school. She remembered when he would parade her around, saying he had the coolest Pokemon around. And while the novelty would one day wear off for him, she still remembered how those moves made her feel special and unique; like they gave her purpose. And now they were gone.
Her stomach empty, her knuckles bruised and bloodied, she cried herself to sleep that night, drifting off into horrible dreams.