Trade

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I wonder what the record for having the most trainers is. Humans record just about everything, so I'm sure it's written down somewhere.

How many have I had by now? I can't remember. A lot, though.

With most pokemon, I guess it would be rather upsetting. Here you form a strong bond with someone, and they go and trade you like you're nothing but their property to them.

I guess I'm kind of lucky, that way. Being traded never upset me, not from the first time, and not now.

I can hear the hum of voices outside my ball. If I focused, I would hear them talking about trades. But I don't need to. Just the tone of their voices tells me. Besides, I can smell the faint scent of fear and confusion from a thousand others. I've been through this before so many times. It's different sometimes, but not usually.

My first trainer, the one who got me, he went through the whole 'You're my special friend and I'm asking you to just do one thing for me, help me become a pokemon master' speech. Even then I could translate it. What he was really saying was I was his new pet and he wanted me to give him the rest of my life and feel he was doing me a favor by allowing it.

He traded me before long. He was all upset over how I didn't bond with him, how I was always aloof. I obeyed him and I was strong, but he didn't feel that I loved him.

Well, duh. It isn't like he loved me. I saw his other pokemon, how they worshiped him. He didn't want friends; he wanted little things to consider him a king, a god. He wanted me to be ready to battle until I fainted then turn around and thank him for letting me.

My next trainer was the same. She was even less focused on winning, but she still wanted that devotion.

And the next trainer, and the next.

I've traveled all over by now. My level is high. I can beat other pokemon easily. Sometimes my former trainer will explain my coldness to the new one, but my new one will say it's fine, that they just want a strong pokemon.

In a way, it's a bit disturbing. You see, the way they see it is strange. They don't have any real connection to their pokemon, and the main reason (or so they think at first) is that they want pokemon to be their best friends is so the pokemon won't disobey. They know I'm not disobedient, so they think it doesn't matter.

I watch them. Slowly they become unnerved by me. I fight quickly and coldly. I show no attachment to them, no response to their praise. Slowly they realize I don't care about them, any more then they care about me. The only difference is that I don't pretend.

A few of them got rid of me because they were scared I might attack them, something they shouldn't have worried about. I want to get stronger. When I decide I'm strong enough, then I will simply leave. Just as I do not care for them, I do not hate them. I've had too many for me to hold a burning hatred for them. Emotion is not my way. Uncaring is. They are nothing to me.

But most never think of this. No, they get rid of me for what they see in my eyes and actions. They see I think of them the same way that they think of me, as a tool, an instrument to use and discard. They see in me what is in them, what they themselves try to deny. When their pokemon worship them, they can pretend that they are good people. After all, their pokemon love them. But when I look at them and through them, not caring who they are or why they do this, just that they send me into battle, when they hear my icy victory cry echoing over the silent arena, they see themselves.

I don't want to belong to one trainer. Why would I? Trainer do not battle forever. After their pokemon journeys they often settle down. At best, the battles greatly decrease. At worst, they disappear. But I have fought for many. I have brought many far along their journeys, then gotten dropped onto someone with further to go. My journey never ends.

I was never wild. I scarcely escaped being no more then an experiment. My parents were weak, low level. They are still rotting away in cages somewhere, being studied by scientists less caring then the worst of my trainers. But I was obedient, I was given to a starting trainer, and I vowed that when I escaped to freedom, I would never be able to be caught.

After all, there should be at least one free articuno to still fly above the snowy mountains, to still keep alive the dreams of many.

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