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Iron Artist 2016 49/100
(A Walk Down Memory Lane.)
A long time ago, a little Snivy boy was sent across the sea to study and train, so that he might become a man of the world; cultured, poised, and elegantly lethal on the battlefield. He was--without a doubt--the weakest of his fellow knights-to be, and certainly the least social. Curled and greasy hair, a pouty little face, a foul mouth with a clumsy foreign tongue, and weepy little red-gold eyes; the aged Emboar knight who had taken him in knew that the boy had a lot of growing to do before he could become a knight himself. And so, he was sent to train with another knight, or at least a knight of a sort. Across the sea, things were done differently and called by different names.
This samurai--his species perfectly befitting of his class--was the current honored keeper of the city of Enju, a venerable Samurott who was a friend and ally to the Emboar knight in another place, another time... The Emboar knew of no hands more gentle and efficient to train the little upstart that had become like a fourth son to him; the samurai would make a beautiful and terrible weapon from the raw iron he had been presented.
The Snivy boy had never been so far from home before, though there were many times he wondered where home truly was: the slums of Illumis where he had been born, or the sleepy town of Ecorcia where he had been raised. Either way, he was now without the boys he called brothers in arms, the Emboar master who had practically raised him, the Sewaddle girl he called his friend, and the mother he was struggling to remember. A whole other life was back there on the far shore of Hexaton, a life he would not see again for another decade.
The food was vile, the clothes cumbersome, the language impossible to wrap his tongue around, and the training even more rigorous than any he had known... Every day was a struggle, and every night a curse. But now and then... Things weren't so bad. After all, now he had two friends instead of just one.
Sure, the Magikarp girl was at least 12 years his senior... But she was always kind; far nicer than anyone his own age. Nearly every pleasant memory of this foreign shore had been given to him by her: hide and seek, stories about dragons and princes and mermaids, days spent fishing or swimming, and evenings spent stargazing... All of these things made even the darkest of nights feel so much more bearable. Even trips to the dusty old temples, and prayers with their dusty old priests seemed more bearable with Himeri, who always insisted that he call her "big sister." With her endless patience, seemingly infinite knowledge, and her admirable strength, he often wished she really were his big sister.
But no big sister--by blood or by title--could protect him from growing up. Darkness will fall one way or another, and no big sister can change that.
Not initially the style I had planned to color this in... But it works!
(A Walk Down Memory Lane.)
A long time ago, a little Snivy boy was sent across the sea to study and train, so that he might become a man of the world; cultured, poised, and elegantly lethal on the battlefield. He was--without a doubt--the weakest of his fellow knights-to be, and certainly the least social. Curled and greasy hair, a pouty little face, a foul mouth with a clumsy foreign tongue, and weepy little red-gold eyes; the aged Emboar knight who had taken him in knew that the boy had a lot of growing to do before he could become a knight himself. And so, he was sent to train with another knight, or at least a knight of a sort. Across the sea, things were done differently and called by different names.
This samurai--his species perfectly befitting of his class--was the current honored keeper of the city of Enju, a venerable Samurott who was a friend and ally to the Emboar knight in another place, another time... The Emboar knew of no hands more gentle and efficient to train the little upstart that had become like a fourth son to him; the samurai would make a beautiful and terrible weapon from the raw iron he had been presented.
The Snivy boy had never been so far from home before, though there were many times he wondered where home truly was: the slums of Illumis where he had been born, or the sleepy town of Ecorcia where he had been raised. Either way, he was now without the boys he called brothers in arms, the Emboar master who had practically raised him, the Sewaddle girl he called his friend, and the mother he was struggling to remember. A whole other life was back there on the far shore of Hexaton, a life he would not see again for another decade.
The food was vile, the clothes cumbersome, the language impossible to wrap his tongue around, and the training even more rigorous than any he had known... Every day was a struggle, and every night a curse. But now and then... Things weren't so bad. After all, now he had two friends instead of just one.
Sure, the Magikarp girl was at least 12 years his senior... But she was always kind; far nicer than anyone his own age. Nearly every pleasant memory of this foreign shore had been given to him by her: hide and seek, stories about dragons and princes and mermaids, days spent fishing or swimming, and evenings spent stargazing... All of these things made even the darkest of nights feel so much more bearable. Even trips to the dusty old temples, and prayers with their dusty old priests seemed more bearable with Himeri, who always insisted that he call her "big sister." With her endless patience, seemingly infinite knowledge, and her admirable strength, he often wished she really were his big sister.
But no big sister--by blood or by title--could protect him from growing up. Darkness will fall one way or another, and no big sister can change that.
~~~Not initially the style I had planned to color this in... But it works!
Category Artwork (Digital) / Fantasy
Species Pokemon
Size 1500 x 2460px
File Size 1.34 MB
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