Reign of Rain [Pokemon Watty Awards 2015]

Chapter 12

SOLOMON

 

            Solomon peered out of the wooden tree palace at Foretree City. The sun was rising and the rays of light cast beautiful patterns of leaves and fruits onto the forest floor. Foretree would always be home to him.

            He turned away from the open window and climbed up a rope ladder and onto the roof of his room. Sceptile was waiting for him, basking in the morning sun. Solomon’s Spirit Pokémon always preferred to sleep outside.

“Wake up, boy,” he said. Sceptile opened one lazy eye, then shut it again. They had arrived late last night, too late to wake his lord father, the King of the Foretree Kingdom, David Forrest. “Come on, father will want to see us.” Sceptile coiled its tail of leaves around Solomon in playful fashion, squeezing him. Finally, the Pokémon woke up and followed Solomon back down the ladder and into the wooden palace.

            The entire city of Foretree, capitol of its Kingdom, had been built in the trees. Most families had a small hut atop a tree that they lived in, but the Forrest family had an expansive home built upon multiple trees. The often many-storied rooms were connected to each other by swaying wooden and rope bridges. Foretree itself was the largest city in all of Hoenn when it came to area covered, but it was not the largest population.

            As Solomon walked across a bridge light on his feet with Sceptile he marveled at the tall towers of the palace. At first glance, they appeared to be massive trees… but they were only made to look that way. As he approached the main wooden keep that was supported by fifty gigantic redwoods, he remembered that Foretree was originally established as a military outpost. The majority of small folk that fell under the direct rule of his family lived in small clearings in the deep forest. It was there that they farmed what they could, namely fruits and berries. Foretree itself was one sprawling, gigantic wooden fortress.

            He entered the wooden great hall, and found his father’s seat empty. The throne of Foretree was a large branch itself, which seemed to grow through the floor of the wooden hall.

            “He must not be up yet,” Solomon said to Sceptile. The city and castle was quiet this morning. He had passed a few servants and guards on his way to the main keep, all with somber looks that seemed to cheer up when they saw their Prince.

            Solomon was climbing up a winding wooden stair carved into a branch of the tallest tree when he met his family’s medicine woman, Bessie.

            “Oh, Solomon, I was just on my way to your chambers. I had heard you returned in the night while the fortress slept.”

            “You heard correct.” Solomon could sense the doubt in her voice. “Is it father? How much worse has he gotten?”

            Bessie looked down at her folded hands. “Follow me,” she said.

            Sceptile let out a low grumble of concern as they followed Bessie up the winding stair and into the solar of his father. The round room had windows open in all directions. To the east, the sun had begun to climb over the clouds. To the west, at the edge of the horizon, the trees of the Kingdom turned into a faint orange line of desert. There was a huge, soft bed in the center of the room, and on a small stand next to it, was a crude painting made of berry juices and dyes. The painting of a woman and an Absol. Next to the picture was a thin crystal crown that sparkled in the morning sunlight.

            David Forrest himself sat in a rocking chair, with a blanket over his legs, and bandages on his arms. The old King was often sickly now. A disease had crept up from his legs, paralyzing him, and his eyes were growing dull.