"Come on, Snivy, let's see what you can do!"
On a rare sunny afternoon, Lucien led Snivy and Dratini to the small training ground, where rows of wooden stakes stood half-buried in the snow. The wind had calmed, and bright light spilled over the white landscape.
"Snivy," he called.
The Grass-type folded its arms, striking an elegant pose before the wooden target. At Lucien's cue, it darted forward, its small body launching like a green bullet. With a sharp thud, it slammed into the post, shaking loose a sprinkle of snow.
Lucien nodded, murmuring to himself, "Tackle and Leer, both well-executed." At this stage, Snivy's strength already outpaced Dratini's.
After landing lightly, Snivy flicked its tail, releasing a pair of glowing green vines from its collar. They cracked through the air with a sharp snap, leaving clean whip-marks on the post.
"Vine Whip," Lucien noted aloud, impressed by the control. "Nicely done."
Then Snivy paused, drawing in energy. Its body seemed to shrink slightly, its expression tightening.
Lucien blinked. "Wait… Growth?"
But instead of radiating power, Snivy's aura dimmed. Its movements grew sluggish.
He frowned, then realization hit. "Ah. That's your Ability—Contrary."
Under this ability, stat changes reversed direction: buffs became nerfs, debuffs became boosts. Growth, normally an Attack and Sp. Atk enhancer, was backfiring.
Lucien sighed. "So that's the trade-off. A double-edged sword."
Still, the strategist in him was already analyzing. "If allies use moves like Screech or Tail Whip on you… the reversal would actually strengthen your defense." He smiled. "We'll make that work."
Snivy's next move was Bind, a coiling strike that wrapped its vines tightly around the post. Compared to Dratini's version, the control was rougher, but it was a start.
Finally, Snivy lowered itself and concentrated. Thin strands of grass crept silently from beneath the snow, twining around the stake's base.
Lucien raised his brows. "Grass Knot, huh?"
If that had been a real opponent, it would've tripped them instantly.
"Stealthy and smart," he said with satisfaction. "Perfect for ambushes."
"Snivy." The Pokémon looked pleased, crossing its arms again, chin lifted high in pride.
Lucien chuckled. "Show-off."
The sun had dimmed behind gray clouds, and though the light remained, the air was bitterly cold. He glanced around the snowy field.
Winter was always harsh on Grass-types. Their strength faded in the chill; sunlight was their source of vigor. Once spring came, Snivy would move faster, strike harder, and radiate the verdant energy that defined its species.
"Alright, that's enough for today," Lucien said, brushing snow from his cloak. "Let's head back."
As he turned toward home, both Pokémon following close behind, Lucien let out a small sigh.
It was really inconvenient living in an era without Poké Balls.
Two Pokémon were manageable for now, but if he caught any more, he'd have an entire parade following him everywhere he went.
That would be… a little too dramatic.
Thinking about it, Lucien's mind drifted to a certain special fruit from Pokémon lore, the Apricorn.
A truly fascinating thing: it grew on trees, hollow inside, and came in many colors.
From what Lucien remembered, in the far-off future, even before the rise of modern technology, there would be craftsmen capable of hand-forging Poké Balls out of these fruits alone.
His own "technology tree" had yet to unlock that stage.
But waiting for progress to arrive wasn't his style.
If they couldn't rely on inherited knowledge, then they'd create it themselves.
He picked up a quill and began sketching the shape of an Apricorn on parchment, marking the inner hollow and a primitive locking mechanism from memory.
When Elif entered, Lucien turned the paper around and handed it over.
"Elif, have you ever seen this kind of fruit before?"
The old butler blinked. "Isn't that… an Apricorn?"
Lucien's eyes widened slightly. "So you have seen one?"
Elif nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, Your Highness. Back in the Royal City. But it's useless to us, inedible. Hollow inside, with just a bit of pulp and seed. People mostly ignore it."
Lucien smiled faintly at the description. 'Like a gourd,' he thought.
He didn't explain his real intentions, only nodded. "I see."
The next morning, Lucien planned to continue training with Dratini and Snivy as usual.
But plans, as always, couldn't keep up with the weather.
Before he'd even gotten out of bed, the low howl of another blizzard rolled in from the mountains.
By dawn, the firewood in the hearth had burned down to a few glowing embers, and the cabin's air had turned bitingly cold.
"Another blizzard, huh?" he murmured.
Huddled beneath a blanket, surrounded by his Pokémon, Lucien listened to the wind shrieking against the windows, and, strangely, felt utterly at peace.
The world outside was frozen and wild, but within these four walls there was warmth, life, and quiet companionship.
A maid entered to stoke the fire. Soon, the hearth flared back to life, painting the room in golden light.
After a while, the room became warm again.
Lucien rose slowly and peered through the narrow wooden window.
Outside, the world was swallowed by snow. The wind howled endlessly, blurring everything into shades of white and gray.
Far off, the outlines of wooden houses stood steadfast against the blizzard, half-buried in drifting snow.
Even the air itself seemed hushed, as if the world had fallen into a deep sleep.
"Woo?"
"Snivy?"
"…?"
The quiet voices came from behind him. Several Pokémon stirred awake, blinking drowsily as they lifted their heads to watch him.
Lucien turned back toward them, smiled softly, and slipped under the quilt once more.
"Go back to sleep," he said gently.
The warmth of the blankets, the crackling of the distant fire, the faint sound of breathing around him…
Was there anything more comforting than drifting back to sleep in a warm bed while winter raged outside?