As before, the dust cloud formed and began to creep towards Chad, but not before he leapt forward into a quick Scratch, knocking the bird back and onto the ground.
<”Huh?!” the teenager shouted in alarm, caught off-guard by Stanley's silence. “Pidgey, quick, hit it with a Tackle!”>
Not wanting to waste the momentum, Chad continued forward, spinning for a low tail sweep of the bird's legs as it attempted to stand up, once again knocking it off balance. He took advantage of the opportunity and repeatedly swiped at his opponent, the Pidgey proving to be less evasive than Fletchling had been, with a few even landing a hit.
The bird gave a shrill cry as it blasted Chad back with a flap of its wings, before righting itself and bolting forward for the attack. Chad regained his footing and prepared himself for the incoming charge by lowering his stance and putting his right claw all the way back behind him, waiting. “This, is how you win,” he started, “with the Power of Friendship!” As the battlecry reached a crescendo, Chad swept forward with the claw, diving down and to the left of the Pidgey. The movement was instant, with Pidgey landing behind Chad a few feet away, and Chad having taken a step forward with his right claw fully extended forward. There was a tense moment, before Chad fell to a knee gripping his right shoulder. Then another moment before Pidgey fell to the ground unconscious.
Chad took a look back at Stanley, and with his left hand made a thumbs up gesture with a wide smile. “Told ya I could do it,” he bragged.
“Yea, I'm certainly a winner alright,” Chad grumbled, wincing as the potion began to kick in. He was certainly in rougher shape than when he had trained with Lady Renard previously, but it was not enough. “I need to get better, I can't risk getting hurt this badly every fight.”
“Stanley, why don't you get started on your homework?” Chad suggested, pointing at Stanley's backpack lying forgotten on the floor nearby.
With a slight smile, and the all clear signal from Diane packing up the first aid kit, Chad gently strode over to stand beside his trainer. “OK kid, what's your task today?” The assignment for today seemed to be focused on spelling new words he had been learning in class, as well as using them in a sentence. Skeptical, Chad lifted the paper to check the reverse side, revealing a blank page facing the table top. “You've got to be kidding me, no way is this everything you need to do,” he expressed in disbelief.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Yes, one on one, so it counts as a duel. Stanley, why are you learning homonyms? Shouldn't you be doing more complicated words at your age?” Chad questioned, as he realized the paper did not include any 'new' words longer than six letters. Dual, Duel, Do, Due, Those, Toes, and other similar words populated the word bank at the top of the page.
Chad, now even more aware how bleak his situation was, gently touched Stanley's hand and moved it to the side, before grabbing the eraser, pointing the tip at the second written sentence, and offering it to the boy.
“Yea, it's almost like I can read your thoughts or something, spooky,” Chad jested, waiting for the boy to make another attempt at the word 'dual'. Meanwhile, his errant eyes glanced at the open textbook, which was left open on what could be assumed as his current progress. The book went into detail about how some words could sound the same but be spelled differently, or how sometimes the same word could have different meanings depending on the sentence. “And I thought the math was a worry, can we even get you to an appropriate reading level in two years?”
Not worried about waking the boy, Chad stole across the carpeted floor and exited the bedroom. The computer was still on, so he withdrew his hidden notebook and resumed tonight's studies. Notably, nobody disturbed him tonight, allowing him to focus on researching the requirements Stanley would need to meet to become a full trainer. To say there were a lot would be an understatement, and Chad's face began to slip into a worried frown as he went through the list. “Forget about math, there's no way I can get him up to speed on biology in time, he's got zero chance of being an official trainer,” he whispered, slumping back in the chair.
Chad froze up, back straight as the questions caught him off-guard. “No, not giving up, just stating my opinion. Is there any way you can like, up his specs?” Chad asked nobody in particular, keeping his voice down so as to not wake anyone.
“No need to get snippy, but for us to have a chance, he needs to at least be reading at an age-appropriate level. As it stands, he's equivalent to a seven year old in the body of a thirteen year old,” Chad explained, motioning to the long list on the computer monitor. “I can help him with learning, but unless you start making some noticeable changes which conflict with your established story so far, we're not going to catch up in time. Hell, some of these requirements aren't really learned until the age of twenty where I come from.” He paused, jotting some words down in the notebook.
Forgetting his surroundings, Chad exploded, shouting back at the mysterious voice. “You gave me a mute, mentally-stunted child who thought that a number added to another number was equal to the first number! He can't speak, which is going to be an issue when and if he recruits other pokemon. Pokemon which, unless you managed to bring along others like me, won't be able to act on his thoughts coming from your speeches. And, to top it all off, the rotten cherry on this shit sundae, any attempts I make to compensate for these deficiencies have you reverting the story or completely ret-conning my efforts!”
There was a brief silence, before Chad leaned back in the chair, eyes closed as if he were seriously considering the offer before him. It was quiet enough for him to perk up as Eric emerged from his bedroom. “It sounds like you're having a rough night. Anything I could do to help?” he asked, as Chad leaned forward with a drawn out groan, head held in his hands. Chad, turning to face Eric, nodded once, before opening a notes application on the computer and typing out a few words. Eric read them over, before asking “And why would you need something like that?” Chad continued to type, before a solid paragraph later Eric seemingly understood. “I mean I guess that could work, though my work may not be interested in funding it.”
“I'll bring up the idea when you come in with me tomorrow. I'm certain someone will be enamored with the concept.”
“Not a rewrite, a macguffin,” Chad explained, “something which serves as a crutch until that important point of the story where it fails and the hero has to adapt or fail.”
That's good, because I just finished updating the draft outline to include this change.