~~~ Chapter 73 - Experiences ~~~

"Alder! What do you have to say to those who suggest that the continued changes to the league and additional infrastructure are evidence of its continued decline?" years ago a reporter had asked the Unova champion at a press conference after the announcement of a slew of major policy changes.

The big ticket item being the addition of pokecenters and medical assistance for trainers. Alder was much, much younger then.

"The league had always changed and adapted their rules with the times," he has said, smiling his goofy smile.

"Two more questions. Otherwise, you all know where I work." It hadn't been his best joke ever, but a few journalists in the conference had the decency to at least try to fake-laugh. He pointed to a different raised hand.

"Can Unova really afford the pokemon center system?"

"Absolutely." Alder replied, confident. Either the question was intentionally set up or the journalist was bad at their job. He had to take the dunk. "Unova will not be left behind compared to other regions already successfully implementing those policies."

Lights and cameras continued to flash. He never did manage the same threatening-while-smiling aura that professor Juniper did. Alder generally relied on Volcarona for dissuasive purposes on enterprising journalists.

She just had to dial the temperature of the room a bit and everyone started to sweat, even out in the brisk fall air. The kind where the man would tell you that he was breaking your kneecaps if you didn't measure up. You'd thank him later, once your knees bent backwards.

"Last question," Alder said. "Make it good," he said. His change in demeanor shushed the crowd. Volcarona shifting slightly helped a lot to that effect as well. Another member of the press stood up.

"Won't these policies encourage trainers and non-trainers alike to spend more time in cities instead of out in the wild, reducing the buffer between humans and the wilderness and the wild and untamed pokemon?"

"These policies—" Alder spoke slowly, getting his thoughts in order "—will enable trainers and—" It was a baffling question, the more he repeated it in his head, really.

Most people stayed in towns and cities already! Many admitted to avoiding going out in the wild because they might not come back. So if anything, some additional checking in on the part of trainers would have been so much better. "—citizens that want to be trainers to seek care they and their pokemon desperately need."

Many didn't come back. The statistics from other regions are undeniable. More capable trainers with larger teams means more assistance during mass outbreaks and helping to fight the most powerful pokemon.

"And with that, that's all the time we have for today. Thank you everyone," he said, giving off a big grin and stepping down from the stage. Alder didn't have to fake his smiles nearly as much as he expected when he had become regional champion.

He stepped down from the podium and continued to wave as he walked off the stage. Volcarona was a few feet behind, following Alder. It wasn't quite like the paparazzi, the photographers and journalists who followed him out of the building those fifteen years before.

They kept their distance, and were mostly respectful. They saved their accosting to pokemon-less movie actors and actresses.

A few journalists tried stepping forward, but all it took was dropping a couple burning embers to dissuade people from getting too close. Naturally, it worked. Press that overplayed their hands and got too pushy learned that pokemon were very defensive of their human friends.

He had thrown out his Braviary, volcarona content to fly alongside its teammate, as he turned around to address the crowd that now stood in front of the building. "Unova has a long way to meeting our goals, but I'm certain we can work on improving the lives of everyone under our care— traveler, trainer, citizen alike."

And with that, he had flown off.

To where, specifically, he didn't remember any more.

That last question would and already was starting to continue to bother him, despite it being silly on its face and after deeper inspection. He figured it was probably because he always felt civilization was too restrictive. And yet, more than a decade later, he was still ruminating on the question.

He understood his team, and his team him, unfortunately, after all these years, he still felt like the answer was lacking, and as far as Alder could tell, the region was doing fine— there were plenty of powerful trainers, and their pokemon were measurably stronger and more coordinated than the teams of earlier eras. The additions of technology had catapulted them into a new era of quality.

So why was he still bothered by the question? Why had Alder gotten anxious enough to physically check on Benji instead of just calling him? Not that Benji minded. Everything felt so intertwined.

By every measure, things were better, and it wasn't exactly a sign of endorsement to be getting doubts just a day into his grandson's first day on his own. At the very least, it had been a few days before the anxiety won over and Alder decided to check in.

The kid was doing fine in the wild. Thriving, even. In comparison to Alder's own anxiety toward Benji, when he had returned home after his own trials in the wild, his mom had immediately put him to work, helping clean the house.

Then, when Alder sat down to read a book in the den, and his father had kicked him out, getting mad at Alder for sitting down to read a book.

If you have time to read, you have time to work!

Reading fantasy novels rotted brains, apparently.

"I have to know, gramps!" Benji said, breaking the reminiscing. "I'm gonna be the strongest trainer in Unova! Me and my two pokemon!" Benji declared. Of note, Benji's own egg hadn't hatched yet, so he was still just a kid with a larvesta running around. Formidable, but it would be years of work and care before it evolved.

"Just be yourself, kid," Alder said.

Alder had just been himself, in all contexts, even up on stage and with business executives trying to court the league's favor, and that was the truth. "When you and your pokemon are one of the strongest teams in the region, they have to deal with you, no matter if they like you."

"But you complain about cross mouth-breathers who doublecross just to gain a buck or status!" Benji complained. His own ascension was so sure in his head that the kid was already asking how to handle the politics. Well, there were people who would try to get to Alder through Benji.

So he decided he could add a little extra food for thought.

"Well, right now for you, you just need to make sure to avoid the bad people— the cults and the ones who just want to get to you because you're my grandson!"

Benji was starry-eyed as his grandfather chose his next words.

"I want to warn you about those people," Alder said, as they prepared to split ways.

The boys' mother had already been mad that he'd left his grandson alone for a few days, but Benji could handle it. Larvesta were hardly defenseless. Most of the nearby pokemon not being able to, or not wanting to prey on it meant it was an effective deterrent from trouble.

"Yeah?"

"Stay away from people with too much insight. or people who know your name but you don't know theirs." He wished there was a better way of explaining it. Stories about dragon-oil salesmen or the endless number of cults or Teams that would pop up and threaten to metastasize, but Benji, as excited as he was, still responded best with simple, effective rules.

"Okay. But how will I know? Can't some people just be more right than others?" He asked.

It was a fair question.

"When the person is revealing insight after insight, and they make too much sense." Alder paused.

"Why? Doesn't that mean they're probably right about a lot of things?" Benji said, repeating his objection.

Alder chuckled lightly to himself.

No. They're trying to rob you, he thought, patting his grandson on the shoulder.

But no, hard rules that were too rigid would backfire. And too much detail would leak out of the kids ears. He was too focused on getting to know his pokemon and how to care for it to get a full explanation of what his grandfather meant. And even if he could explain it, you really can't condense more than fifty years of experience into a lecture.

It reminded Alder of himself. The thought was planted, and he had the kid's attention for the moment. Then, the best idea popped up.

"Challenge them to a battle." Benji perked up. "You can tell what kind of person a trainer is once your team knows how hard they and their team worked to get where they are."

Benji smiled, nodding, as if the explanation was enough. The thesis was simple, yet easy enough to get wrong. Still, the rule of thumb was correct enough, and not likely to leave Benji any worse off, even if it had some major holes. Alder trusted him to get it right.

Training was a lonely life, and those who spent too much time listening to others or regurgitating others' rote advice wouldn't excel, because training was as much about your relationship with your team and their needs, as it was about anything else, so rule-followers striving for exactness wouldn't emerge from the herd.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Even so, battles would interrupt chauvinistic power players, shut up the people getting by on words and charisma, and the addition of the other person's pokemon gave the trainer time to think.

It really did help the two people get to know each other better. And, the post-battle high or loss tended to break a lot of hypnosis that happened through sheer charisma. Sure, there were manipulative trainers that abused their teams and/or wanted to use others as their pawns.

But when you met someone who's whole team were fairy and dark, you knew something was up. Alder did not explain all this to Benji, who just said "All right, gramps!" with the sheer enthusiasm that only a kid could, turning back to feed his larvesta a chunk of charcoal.

Battling really was a form of communication, a way of bearing your heart out to the other party.

Alder always felt that way after particularly long or difficult battles himself, anyway. Sure, there were those who said battling was brutal or bloody and therefore unethical, to say nothing of questions of sapience and consent to battling. There wasn't a pokemon who didn't get into scuffles with other pokemon. In the wild or in a daycare.

In his opinion, Alder preferred the league structure and pokecenter access over the anarchy of the wilderness.

Battling and your relationship with pokemon was a thing you understood, not from speeches or academic papers, but in your gut. You learned from trainers when you battled them. You felt how hard the trainers and their pokemon actually worked to get to their position. The communication during battle sent so much more information than any trainer ever tried to convey.

Being kind to people who didn't have pokemon or even those who didn't think the paradigm was ethical, was always of importance, of course. But they couldn't understand. Never would.

He gave Benji a hug and packed his stuff, leaving his grandson again, before gathering his team to return to Castelia again.

Basics of wilderness survival, and befriending pokemon in the area was going well enough for his grandson that outside of the first few days or so, Alder's own anxiety dissipated. Benji was doing—would do—just fine alone in the wild without his help.

Alder was old enough, and had a plethora of experiences that helped him temper the things he did, making minor adjustments to the league and his team and training routines over decades of practice.

Unfortunately for him and other experienced trainers, Teams were pretty new phenomena, though the laundering of ideals was not anything new. New faces picked up old ideals. Old faces picked up new labels of old ideals, abusing unfamiliarity for their own benefit.

"Call me if the egg hatches, and let me know what comes out," Alder said.

"Ok!" Benji said, turning to feed his starter.

And with that, Alder left his grandson once more. Climbing on the back of his Braviary, they took off to make circling patterns, before he guided Braviary to return to the gym. Benji was good with pokemon, and together, the boy and his partner would learn what worked or didn't. The only concern, if there was any, was his intense focus.

A lot of Alder's own mistakes growing up could be attributed to a similar level of extreme focus—he hadn't even bothered to pick up more teammates until years into training. It had just been him and his larvesta.

It was only trudging around on land for a year that Alder had finally decided to let a Rufflet join the team. If Benji picked up some of his mother's stubbornness, who herself inherited Alder's, then the best he could do was give Benji some general advice.

Tips to avoid falling in with Teams. Tips to faster growth. It wasn't too bad, Benji was open and paying enough attention to ask questions, after all.

The problem with teaching the experiences of the older generation to the younger one wasn't that the advice was out of date, though it often was. It was about finding that kernel of truth and telling it in a modern context. Times were changing, and you had to make sure that the advice was told in a way that would work for the next generation.

More than that, you had to trust them to see things that you didn't.

He had left Benji, to train his own larvesta and handler a few minor issues across the region that demanded his attention, then returned to check in on Benji. Alder had brought his team and his own larvesta and larvesta egg.

That "gift" from a particular nearly-anonymous corporate group that thought cloning and enhancing pokemon would be a way of earning the champion's good graces. He'd done a lineage test, and it really was effectively a descendant of his own Volcarona.

There were a number of concerns on the list—how had they gotten their hands on his volcarona's genetic samples, being among the top ten. He looked into his pack, all wrapped up and heated. The Larvesta would hatch soon. Taking it to the old ruins and seeing if the Volcarona there would accept it was a good plan. Training it wasn't.

Those companies were protective of their techniques, especially if they modified the creatures, but Alder didn't trust people that he didn't get the opportunity to actually meet. Not even an opportunity to shake their hands or look them in the eyes!

There was just too much to lose, and it was better to err on the side of safety. Whatever happened, he wouldn't be training it when the egg hatched. There was also an immense layer underneath it all that felt dirty to his old partner, that he was unwilling to impinge upon.

The people who'd sent it to him would be asking for a favor of some kind soon. He had done a lot for the region—stopping rampaging deities, representing Unova on the national stage, and ensuring the interests of the region and its people were always represented during the international conferences and negotiations. Alder knew when gifts weren't just gifts.

The move to the global stage from worrying exclusively about internal affairs had brought along with it some great benefits—much additional commerce, many long term friendships with champions from other regions, as well as inter-regional business connections. He was old enough to know how to navigate this. Without her on his side, though, it all was still so empty.

It was always a shockingly long flight to get to Castelia. Perhaps it was because he always savored the open air more when heading out and into the city.

They landed in the backyard of the gym. He took a moment and released the rest of his team. He'd get food for them in a bit. Another benefit of the modern era was not having to scavenge. High-tier pokemon ate considerable calories and each pokemon had certain nutrients they needed.

Luckily, the nature of the era meant that foods and nutrients were plentiful. No more scavenging or needing to pay off farmers for a portion of their crops, or in older eras with nobility and kings, forcing peasants to labor to maintain their teams.

Walking inside the gym, Artemus was there. "Hey, Alder!" he said, as the gym leader-slash-champion approached.

"Hey, kid, how are you and your team holding up?"

"Oh, you know." The kid shrugged, then straightened up. That was good, his posture indicated a stronger confidence, it left a smile on his face, and helped reassure him in his decision.

It was nice to have another bug enthusiast around. His smile turned into his full-on goofy grin when the kid held out his badges.

"Let's see what all you've got now," Castelia, obviously. "Nacrene. That's impressive. She doesn't usually go easy on people early in their career."

Art just shrugged. "There was more trouble in Nacrene than you'd think… just not from Lenora."

"Oho, well you'll have to tell me your stories later!" The champion's grin fade back down a bit, but he tried to be a bit jovial.

He still hadn't fully recovered, he knew. But it was good not to drag others down. It wasn't his first loss of a friend, but it had been his best.

Four badges in a few weeks.

Huh.

That was fast. Too fast, really. And not in a good way. On paper, a trainer could go through the league as fast as they could get between all of the gyms, but in practice, gym leaders had more responsibilities than just testing people wanting to do the circuits.

Granted, he had been slacking in his own "duties" so sometimes you just got lucky.

Striaton was easy enough to explain, if you bought dinner and had a time of it. Most of the league never did like the way Chilli and the crew ran the joint. Gym leaders technically weren't allowed to charge for the first battle of the month. If it just so happened to have a cafe?

Or be inside a theme—actually— "How was Elesa?" He asked. He'd kept up with the operations enough to know they'd settle in. "Actually, tell me that later," he finished before Art could even open his mouth.

New gym leaders generally took a while to warm up and figure out which people they wanted to pass and which ones they wanted to fail. He already knew exactly what kind of person she would be, young as she was. They'd see if she had the willingness to keep her position.

She had the power, that was certain. No, what really caught his eye was Lenora's badge. She was a hardass, and deliberately acted like a speedbump. Eh, he'd just call her later and give her shit for turning soft.

"Well, Castelia, Nacrene, Striaton, and Nimbasa! Not bad!" Alder said. "Four badges!" The door of the gym opened right as Alder finished patting Art on the back, giving the kid a nice little pep-talk.

"Thanks, Alder!" Art smiled, a wave of tension rolling off his shoulders.

He didn't like setting a kid up for trouble, but he'd also expected Art to be out training and struggling for at least three months before returning. Not one.

"Add a fifth!" an old man said. Art's face lit up even brighter.

"Miles!" Alder said, "you old dog!" knowing that voice so well, shocked, as the aged Mistralton gym leader and his granddaughter, Skyla, who was only in her early teens, walked into the gym from the main entranceway.

Art was beaming, Alder tempted to put his hands on the kid's shoulder. Now, that was a surprise. The first three badges were usually pretty easy to nab.

"Well, congratulations, kid… That puts you and your team at five badges!" Alder said. "In that case, dinner's on me tonight! It's been too long since we talked, Miles!" Alder said.

"It has, it has also not been long enough since you got drunk and asked the waitress for a kiss," Miles said.

"Aha, yeah, well, two can play that game my old friend," then, before Alder said more, Miles glanced down at Skyla. "Another time, then."

They'd be going out for drinks later, that was for certain. Just not with the kids.

"What do you think?" Alder asked.

"I think… We have a new prospective Castelia gym arbiter, potentially a future gym leader. He needs to rely less on his star pokemon, and his team needs more type diversity, but they're on a solid foundation," Miles said.

"Excellent to hear!"

The reality of the situation was that the kid was in for a bumpy ride. The faster you get your badges, the more brows would raise. What was worse for Artemus was how ready Alder was ready to give up the gym.

He still needed some time alone, time to train, and then to fill in the proper Championship position and kick the league back into gear.

What the boy didn't know was how ready Alder was to give up the gym. Certain factions would be unhappy about a kid from a podunk town getting the mantle especially if he had less than eight badges.

"So you think his team would be willing to kill on his behalf?" Alder asked, in earshot.

"Absolutely," Miles said.

"Do you understand the commitments that come with being an unovan trainer?" Alder asked Art.

"Pretty sure, if it means protecting humans and their pokemon from bad people and mass outbreaks and helping to temper the wild gods!" Art tried.

Eh, close enough. He didn't like the more formal trainer inductions anyway.

"Excellent. We'll talk later then, Art, but I have some things to take care of first," he said, giving Miles a friendly hug, before winking at both the kids just sort of staring at the older trainers. Alder was still junior to Miles by ten years, but they hadn't let that get in the way of their friendship.

What really niggled at him was whether or not what he was doing to Art or his team was particularly fair.

Well, he knew the truth. And what was best for Alder wasn't necessarily the best for Art or his team. He'd leave some advice to Art to slow it down a little. Tnsions were rising in the region, and the more opinionated members of the region would not react well to the kid's fast ascension.

~~~