Lost in their Past

Calem Xavier

Calem was never in Unova.

He was in the orange islands, the place which was once the control center of the chamber. The place where his father once worked, the place where he'd died.

When Ailsa had called him in, a morbid feeling had spread all over his body. He didn't know why, after all, there was no family left for him to morn over. 

"It's about Adrian," Ailsa had said.

Those three words were all it took for him to endanger his life for the good of others. Adrian Xavier had been killed around the same time James Raider was, he was one of the many casualties when the Control Center of Orange Islands was blown up.

But of course, no one remembered or mourned for Adrian, he was just a number among many. No one loved him... not his wife or family. They said he was a bitter man but he was still his father, his only family.

"How can you be sure?" Calem had asked Ailsa, "maybe there is no mole, maybe Orange Island was just... bombable?"

"There is," Ailsa said gravely, "I had Delia tailed when she tried to access our hardware. They were locked as they should've been which could only mean one thing—"

"Someone gave my father up," he clenched his fist, "and you want me to find out?"

She nodded, "Of course and you'll be discrete."

"But what of the unown?"

"It's not your job anymore, Calem Xavier."

A sigh escaped his lips as he tilted his head in agreement, "Can I just ask you one question?"

"Go on,"

"Why me? And don't say that it's because of my father because we all lost someone. So, why me? Why not Ash?"

Ailsa didn't speak for some time, her stern gaze was fixated on the ebony-haired man in front of her. "Before you, there was Mark Jorum. I tasked him with the same one I'm giving you, it failed because Mark, James, and Ash, 're all cut from the same cloth. They would go to lengths to save people, good or bad. They believe it is good in everyone but you know the truth, Calem, it's not nice but you do."

He did know it, he'd know it since he was a little kid, hoping for the rain to wash away his tears so that people could say that not even Adrian Xavier's son cried at his funeral.

"Not everyone has good in them," he said bitterly, "some are just evil."

Calem was walking in the Palace of Victory, admiring all the champions who'd managed to defeat the Supreme Gym Leader.

That's when he came across a stone tablet with six Pokemon imprints and a picture of a short, raven-haired boy with two thunderbolt scars on his cheeks and a Pikachu sprayed over his head.

"Son of a bitch, he wasn't lying," Calem smirked.

Ash had told Calem of his victory in the orange islands when they were sharing their accomplishments as Pokemon trainers. Calem had dismissed his talks as absolute poppycock when he claimed to have won the orange league.

Supreme leader Drake was a tough nut to crack, Calem himself had tried to defeat him twice, once at the age of fourteen but failed the same.

It was a real blow to him because he'd won the Indigo Plateau Conference on his first try.

Calem sighed as he walked towards the winner of the league of '85, a little boy in a red hat and matching sneakers, a Pikachu sat grinning on his shoulder. Beside him were the six Pokemon's he must've used.

Red Raider, read the stone tablet.

Calem stayed at the same position for quite some time, eagerly looking around for a man in a black hat.

"You're late," said Calem as the man in the black hat approached him.

"I'm not late," his voice was heavy, "you're just early."

Calem moved around, his eyes dodged every stone tablet and picture of trainers who'd managed to defeat the supreme leader. There were just a few.

"Do you have the information, or are you just interested in talks?" He said.

The man in the hat smirked, "Why are you so eager for the information?"

"Because I have work to do," he was back staring at the victory picture of Ash.

"Okay," the man cleared his throat, "did you bring the payment?"

"You'll receive it only after I can confirm the information."

"I'm not an amateur, Black," The man vexed, "I've been in this business since before you were born."

"I'm not an amateur either though I may be younger than you are. So much younger, I mean, look at your wrinkled skin. When were you born? July of seventy years ago?"

The man scoffed, "I've been in this business long enough to catch the snitches and the liars."

"I was born in this business, old man. I'm not going to show my hand."

"Then how do we decide?"

Calem already knew the answer, the Pokeball in his belt was getting impatient as the seconds passed by. He was no Ash Ketchum or Red Raider, but Calem had won three leagues himself. He was a damn good trainer.

"We're in the hall of fame," he said with a mischievous grin, "let's have a six by six."