Pokemon: The Legacy of Dragons

Chapter 99: Caitlin’s Vow



Ignoring Caitlin completely, Logan made his way toward the battle arena.

There, Red was surrounded by a cluster of cheering spectators. Logan stepped forward, clapped Red lightly on the shoulder, and smiled.

"Pretty easy win, huh, Pikachu?"

Red adjusted his gloves, a spark of pride flashing across his face.

"Pika-pika~!"

Pikachu perched happily on his shoulder, letting out an equally delighted squeak.

"I thought you'd be competing too," Red added with a hint of regret.

"It would've been great to battle you right here."

The St. Anne was packed with trainers, but Red still most wanted to test himself against Logan—part friend, part rival.

"I'm not that interested in tournaments like this," Logan shrugged.

"If you really want to face me, let's wait for the Indigo League."

"Deal! We'll see each other at the Indigo League!" Red grinned broadly.

Then, curiosity flashing across his face, he lowered his voice:

"By the way… that girl from earlier—you know her?"

Red had seen Caitlin run up to Logan, just like everyone else nearby who'd caught the moment. Naturally, he was curious.

"Never met her before. She's apparently the young lady from some noble family in Sinnoh. Name's Caitlin," Logan answered, shaking his head.

Red thought about it, but the name didn't ring a bell.

Since Logan said they weren't acquainted, Red quickly lost interest in prying.

"Tonight, after most passengers are asleep," Logan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice,

"come by my cabin. Let's go check out the ship's hidden corners."

"Got it! No problem!" Red nodded firmly.

They discussed the details, then went their separate ways—Red wandering off to explore the luxury liner, while Logan, feeling hungry, decided to head toward the dining hall.

Born into Sinnoh's elite, Caitlin's life had been anything but happy.

Daughter of an old, noble family, beloved by countless admirers since birth, blessed with beauty fit for a princess, gifted with a rare talent for Pokémon training—and even rarer still, born with psychic powers so formidable they'd be the envy of any living psychic.

She had it all… if only she could control it.

Caitlin still remembered clearly: when she was small, she'd had many friends.

She'd truly lived like a little princess—surrounded by laughter and praise, never lacking for anything, her days an endless parade of compliments and affection.

Then, it all changed when she was five.

During a childish quarrel, her toys were snatched away. The little princess burst into tears, her emotions spiraling completely out of control.

For the first time, her psychic power exploded—and every child playing with her was gravely injured.

After that, she never saw those friends again.

From what she overheard, they survived—but each one was left with lifelong scars.

Yet, rather than being rejected, Caitlin's terrifying psychic power only made the adults around her more hopeful.

They told themselves it was merely youth—she would surely learn to control it as she matured.

But as the years passed, hope turned into fear.

Her power only grew stronger, and the slightest emotional ripple could trigger devastation.

Anyone living close to her might suddenly find themselves swept away by an invisible storm.

She became too terrified to make friends—she could only bring them pain.

Her family's disappointment grew heavier with each passing year.

Time after time, her power's uncontrollable eruptions cost them dearly, draining both wealth and influence.

And still, she showed no real sign of mastering it.

At last, the family could take no more.

They couldn't bear to have this ticking time bomb under their own roof.

By collective decision, Caitlin was sent away—banished to live in an isolated corner of Sinnoh.

At least there, even if she lost control, the damage would be minimal.

She was forbidden to enter Pokémon battles—losing always provoked an emotional spike that could end in catastrophe.

Deep down, Caitlin knew she could have refused.

But her ingrained kindness wouldn't let her—she forced herself to comply.

So she trained every day… but nearly without real combat experience.

Once a graceful girl like a sleeping beauty, isolation gradually made her brittle, sharp, and unpredictable.

The only one who stayed by her side was Sirlan—the family butler.

Unlike most, Sirlan was also an excellent trainer, skilled enough to keep himself safe around her.

Through Sirlan, Caitlin managed occasional indirect battles, and for that, she felt genuine gratitude.

Even if, officially, he was a hired servant.

Then, Caitlin heard that in Kanto, there was another powerful psychic—a master in full control of her abilities.

Carrying a sliver of hope, Caitlin journeyed to Kanto, dreaming of finally learning control.

But the expert, Sabrina, refused to meet her.

Elusive and reclusive, Sabrina remained impossible to find.

Meanwhile, Caitlin's family, terrified she'd cause new trouble in Kanto—where their Sinnoh-based power meant nothing—hurriedly summoned her back home.

Crushed, Caitlin prepared to leave in disappointment.

Yet fate had other plans.

On the St. Anne, as she sailed away, she met someone else—

Someone whose power dwarfed even what she'd imagined.

Someone who, with a single flash of psychic force, had completely suppressed her raging power.

For Caitlin, it felt like seeing the first and only light in a world of suffocating darkness.

In her fifteen years, she'd only ever had one true friend—a soul as close as a sister, someone she admired deeply: Cynthia.

"Cynthia… I'm on the ship back to Sinnoh," Caitlin whispered into the phone, standing on deck, her voice shaking so hard she could barely speak.

"I… I didn't get to meet Sabrina, but guess what—I found someone who might be even stronger! He… he could stop my power when it almost exploded. Cynthia, do you know how happy that made me?"

She trembled violently, tears threatening, her voice breaking.

Hearing her tiny sobs, anyone would want to pull her close and promise it would be okay.

"Slow down, Caitlin. I'm here… tell me everything," came the soft, mature voice on the other end.

Warm, calm, with just a hint of girlish innocence—Cynthia's voice soothed like a gentle tide.

Cynthia understood all too well.

For someone whose very existence was a constant threat, discovering that there was someone who could suppress that darkness… it was like stumbling across an oasis in a killing desert.

Caitlin wiped her tears, breath coming fast.

"But… but I think he dislikes me. He wouldn't really talk. But Cynthia, I want him to teach me… no, more than that… I want him to stay with me, always. That way, I'd never have to fear losing control again."

"…Caitlin, what exactly are you saying?" Cynthia asked gently, but with a tinge of concern.

"I want to take him back to Sinnoh!" Caitlin blurted out, her voice suddenly louder.

Then, fearful of being overheard, she cupped a hand over the phone, lowering her voice again:

"…But he seems really strong. I looked into him—his battle style is fierce, and I don't think I could beat him. Plus, he apparently has ties to Lance, Kanto's head of the Elite Four… Oh! And he has a Gabite—it looks so much like yours!"

"A Gabite?!"

Cynthia's voice rose in surprise.

"…Grandmother did say my Garchomp's little sister had finally found a worthy trainer. If there's a Gabite in Kanto, it must be her."

"Right?! So you have to help me! Sirlan won't agree—but your Garchomp could cross from Sinnoh to Kanto in no time! I'll send you my location—come help me get him back to Sinnoh!"

Listening to Caitlin's excited, breathless plea, Cynthia fell silent for a moment.

Unlike impulsive Caitlin, Cynthia was thoughtful and poised.

She sighed, a tiny smile playing at her lips.

"…Caitlin, you really put me in a spot," she said softly.

"I'm the Sinnoh Champion, but I'm hardly the ruler of Sinnoh. And you yourself said he's connected to Lance. I might not even be a match for Lance if it came to that."

"…And the League here is about to announce reforms—turning the title of Champion into a unique position. After every Sinnoh League, the winner will get a chance to challenge for the title, meaning I'll have to fend off challengers old and new…"

She sounded faintly weary.

Caitlin's frustration flared.

Clearly, Cynthia had listed reason after reason—but the message was the same: she wouldn't help.

"…Caitlin, listen to me. You can't keep living like this," Cynthia's voice softened, turning into gentle scolding.

"You were raised as a noble lady. Even in hardship, even when it hurts—you must remain elegant."

Why do they all say this?!

Why must I be elegant?!!

Why is 'control psychic power' always the same answer—'be elegant'?!

Inside, Caitlin wanted to scream.

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