PART THREE: APPLICATIONS IN WAR

The next morning started simply enough. Florence and I headed to training with Smith, as usual, with Pausso and Hoppip in tow. Florence and Hoppip were off to a bit of a rocky start – the grass Pokemon kept letting himself drift away with the wind, so she kept chasing after him and dragging him back again – but I wasn’t going to let that get me down. Drowzee and I were getting along better than ever, my friend now had her own Pokemon to train, and we had successfully built working poke balls, which surely meant I was only a few steps away from figuring out how to open the gold and silver ball. What could go wrong?

I considered this as our group reached the clearing that we used for training each morning. I had been careful to hide the strange ball that contained Celebi from everyone except Florence so far, but Isaac and Charity had proven to be excellent inventors and trustworthy friends. Maybe it was time for me to show them the gold and silver ball and explain a bit more about how I had ended up in this crazy situation. Not that I was from the future – that still felt risky to admit – but I could tell them about the quest Celebi had given me, surely.

I turned to ask Florence and Pausso what they thought, only to notice that Smith and Venomoth had arrived at the field. That made me promptly clamp my mouth shut again. Smith was great and had taught us a lot, but I didn’t feel up to explaining everything to him as well.

“And who is this?” Smith asked as he walked up to our group. Venomoth fluttered over to examine Hoppip, and the little Pokemon chirped warily at the bug in response.

“This is Hoppip,” Florence said in a weary voice. “We caught him south of town two days ago, and – not again!” She dashed off to the side as Hoppip was picked up by a stray breeze, and she just barely grabbed the Pokemon by his foot before he floated away entirely.

“Caught him?” Smith asked. “Is this related to your majū-device project?”

“Yep. We got it to work!” I told him triumphantly. “We can capture majū in our poke balls now.”

“Sometimes,” Florence pointed out as she pulled Hoppip, who was giggling, back to the group. “When we can get the ball to land properly. And if the majū does not break out on their own.”

Smith blinked at us. “Well,” he finally said. “That is… quite a development. I assume this means you have not bonded with this Hoppip, Florence?”

“No,” Florence said grimly as she let Hoppip go. The little Pokemon floated down to the grass in the clearing and sniffed it eagerly, then dug his feet into the ground to avoid getting caught by any further breezes.

“But she’s still going to train him!” I interjected hurriedly. “As practice.”

Smith looked at me in an unimpressed way; then he sighed and turned back to Florence. “I will try to help you, but it will be an uphill battle. Communication with a non-bonded majū can prove most difficult.”

Florence glared down at Hoppip. “I have learned that already.”

We started training with the typical laps across the field. Smith and Venomoth consulted off to the side as we ran, probably trying to decide what exactly to do with Hoppip. The Pokemon seemed eager to train once Pausso told him what was going on, and he joined us on the run (though he flew by windmilling his leaves instead of jogging), but he kept getting blown off-course accidentally, which meant Florence kept needing to veer off-track to catch him.

Smith called off the run earlier than usual, then frowned at Hoppip. “He needs to strengthen his flight muscles,” the man told Florence. “If he is unable to direct his own flight path he will never succeed in battle.”

“I think he may be too light for that,” Florence replied. She leaned down and picked up Hoppip, who yelped “Pip!” in response. “He weighs no more than – than a pillow, I suppose.”

“Hmm.” Venomoth landed on Smith’s arm, and he stroked the bug’s back idly as he thought. “In that case, he will need to learn how to adjust his wings – err, leaves – to take advantage of the wind. We may be able to help with that.”

Florence took a step back as Hoppip sprang out of her arms and floated down to the ground, grumbling as he did so. “I thought perhaps we might learn what his moves are first? Some of them might help him in his flight,” she added, a little disingenuously I thought.

Smith chuckled. “You children and your fixation on attacks. Still, there is some merit to your suggestion, as knowing the current extent of Hoppip’s abilities will help us better understand how to train him.” He looked down at his Venomoth. “Partner, will you ask Hoppip to demonstrate his moves? And ask him to pay attention to the words we say afterwards; he will need to learn the human words for attacks if he and his trainer are to communicate.”

Florence puffed up a bit at being called a trainer while Venomoth launched himself off of Smith’s arm. The bug fluttered down to the ground next to Hoppip, then let out a string of buzzes and other sounds. Pausso nodded along next to me, so I supposed Venomoth’s way of talking must make sense to the other Pokemon.

Then Smith turned to me. “Trainer Monroe, you and Drowzee can go practice your move pattern. I will call you back when it is time for the next exercise.”

I nodded, but also decided to correct him. “It’s Pausso now.”

Smith blinked at me. “Pardon?”

“Drowzee’s name! We finally got our mental bond stable enough that I could learn it. His name is Pausso.”

Pausso twitched his ears happily next to me, but to my surprise Smith didn’t look quite so pleased. Actually, he looked more than a little scandalized.

“Ah.” Smith coughed into his hand. “I suppose this must be one of those things that is different in that place you are from. Trainer Monroe, here in Johto, a partner’s personal name is a private affair, not something you share with everyone else.”

Now it was my turn to blink at him. In my Johto nicknames for Pokemon were perfectly common. Why would you ever need to keep them private?

Smith blushed slightly and shook his head. “You can do as you like, I suppose, but others will find it decidedly odd if you go broadcasting your partner’s name for everyone to hear, as if they were merely a pet. I do not personally recommend it.”

“… okay, I guess,” I finally said, catching Pausso’s eye and shrugging. “C’mon, uh, Drowzee. We can go train, I guess.”

We spent a little while practicing Pausso’s move pattern (which now ended with Headbutt instead of Pound), then rejoined the rest of the group for defensive practice. Hoppip got a special lesson where he was subjected to flight training. This meant that Venomoth used a small Gust on him and he had to try to navigate the winds to reach a desired target, or angle down to the ground if he thought reaching the target was impossible. His abilities didn’t look very promising, at least so far.

Halfway through the practice, I noticed that Venomoth had stopped buffeting Hoppip with winds and was instead staring up into the sky while he fluttered in place. Smith noticed this as well; he stopped chanting the count we used to keep time and stared in the same direction, almost like he was waiting for something.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I peered up into the distance and frowned. Actually, now that I was paying attention, it did look like there was something high up in the sky. I shaded my eyes with a hand, trying to get a closer look. Then I yelped as the figure dove downwards and started hurtling towards us.

Pausso immediately flashed his eyes white with psychic power, getting ready to use Confusion, but Smith stopped us with a cautionary hand. “It is alright,” he said, eyes still focused on the descending shape. “That is no wild majū.”

I looked over at Florence, but she just shrugged in response. So I couldn’t do anything but wait and watch as the creature shot down to the ground, flapping its giant wings just before it would have crashed so it could slow down and land gracefully. Once it had reached the ground, I caught sight of the red comb on the bird’s head and its long beak. It was a Fearow, then.

“Greetings,” Smith said, bowing formally. Venomoth trilled and did a little flip; the bird cawed in reply and ruffled its feathers. “Do you bring a message from Edwin?”

The Fearow nodded, then moved awkwardly to stick out one of its feet. I noticed belatedly that a small metal capsule had been tied securely to its leg. Smith leaned down to untie the container, then unscrewed it carefully, pulling a single sheet of paper out.

Smith took a moment to read the piece of paper. Then he frowned and read it a second time.

I couldn’t stop myself. “What is it?” I asked, itching to take the paper out of Smith’s hands to read it myself. I mean, mysterious message from a huge bird that just dove in from the sky? It had to be something interesting.

“Trouble,” Smith said sourly as he rolled the paper up again and put it into the pouch at his side. He let out a long sigh, then looked at the Fearow. “I will not be able to come myself, but I will find someone who can.”

The Fearow raked one claw through the grass, pulling up clumps of dirt. Then it shrugged its wings in a way that communicated ‘well, what can you do’ fairly effectively.

Smith closed the container (which I noticed still held a tight roll of papers) and leaned down to retie it on the bird’s leg. “Do you need food or rest before you move on?” he asked as he tightened the cord, his voice a little strained.

The Fearow shook its head briefly, then shook its leg to ensure the messages were secure. Then, without warning, it launched up into the air, flapping its wings hard to gain altitude.

The gust sent Hoppip flying off again, but for once Florence didn’t go running after him right away. “What exactly just happened?” she asked instead, her voice sounding a little awed. Probably she wasn’t used to seeing birds so much larger than Michael’s Hoothoot up close.

Smith stared up in the sky after the Fearow for a moment; then he shook his head and looked back towards us. “I will tell you, but I wish to collect my thoughts first. Come to my house this afternoon at the first bell after lunch. Isaac may join us too, if he wishes.”

Then, to my complete shock, Smith bowed briefly to us as a farewell and left training early. I had never seen him do that before, even when he had been sick with a cold. That more than anything made me realize that whatever that message had said, it must be fairly serious.

~

A few hours later we all gathered at the small house where Smith and Venomoth lived. Isaac had been very curious to find out what the message said, and of course Charity had insisted on coming along as well once she heard about it.

The house was mostly empty of decoration, except for a shelf with a long line of knick-knacks on one wall. Smith already sat in the main room, and Venomoth looked comfortable on a wooden perch that was set up off to the side. They weren’t alone, though; three others were also arranged around the room. A man with an awkward-looking mustache sat at an angle to Smith, a Pineco sat in the man’s lap, and a giant Slowbro sat opposite him, slowly sipping a large cup of tea.

“Alonso!” Isaac said in delight as we entered the room. “I have not seen you around town in a while. How is your partner?”

The new man – Alonso – smiled awkwardly as he scrambled to his feet and moved to clasp Isaac’s arm in greeting. “She is well,” he said in a quiet voice not all that different from Smith’s. The Pineco blinked her eyes and hummed happily in confirmation. Then Alonso turned to look at the rest of us. “Are you the new trainers Jeremiah told me about?”

I blinked at him in confusion for a moment before realizing that he was referring to Smith; I had never heard anyone call him by his first name before. “Uhh, yes. I’m Monroe, and my partner here is Drowzee.” Pausso wiggled his trunk in a complicated way.

“And I am Florence. I just started training Hoppip,” Florence added, scowling at Alonso like she dared him to comment. He gulped and didn’t say anything.

… Greetings…

I jumped as a new voice echoed through my head, one quite different from Pausso’s thoughts. Then, after a moment’s thought, I looked over at the Slowbro. It – no, she, the voice was definitely feminine – slowly lowered her cup and smiled at us.

“Greetings to you as well, Isabella,” Isaac said, bowing formally to the Slowbro. I quickly moved to copy him. “Though I must admit, I am surprised to see you here. Is the matter so serious?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Smith said. He motioned for us to sit, then started pouring tea into tiny cups for each of us. “I received a message from Violet City this morning. A major confrontation between majū began just outside the city limits a week ago, and it has completely blocked most of the entrances to the city in addition to the usual path to Ecruteak.”

“A week ago?” Alonso asked, sounding startled. “You mean they have not been able to resolve it?”

“They tried,” Smith said grimly. “Edwin and his Fearow attempted to intervene, but the number of majū who are fighting on the route is apparently unprecedented; they were forced back. His apprentices were unable to make any impact.” Smith looked at each of us in turn calmly. “This battle has mostly cut off the east side of Johto from the west, which will not be sustainable in the long term. Edwin is now seeking help from the rest of the trainers in the region to solve the problem.”

My eyes widened. Did that mean me? Surely not – there had to be more experienced trainers available.

“In our younger days, Venomoth and I would have travelled to Violet to assist,” Smith continued. “Now, though, we have not travelled on a mission in years.” He put down his cup and turned to the man sitting next to him. “Alonso, you have trained with me for some time now and have completed several missions successfully. Normally you would be the obvious choice, but…”

“I cannot.” Alonso’s face had gone pale, and he shook his head rapidly while clutching at Pineco. “Ines is due any day now, and I promised her I would be right outside the door for the birth of our first child.”

“I know,” Smith said, putting a hand on Alonso’s knee to calm the man down. “You may need to make difficult choices in the future, but for now I believe we have other options.” He then turned to the Pokemon sitting next to him. “Isabella, do you think any of the town’s majū would be able to make the trip up to Violet?

The Slowbro painstakingly put her cup down as she considered the question. No, she eventually sent to us all. Too… slow. We would not… reach in… time.

“I know it would not work over land,” Smith said cautiously, “but I thought perhaps if one of you swam the sea route instead…?”

Isabella considered this for an awkward length of time; then she slowly shook her head. The ocean… is too salty, she thought. The Slowkin… of this town… are freshwater… creatures. Cannot make… extended ocean… trips.

Smith sighed, then bowed his head slightly in acceptance. Then he turned to look directly at me. “In that case – Trainer Monroe, I must ask for your help.”

I hunched down a little. “Really, me?”

Smith smiled slightly. “Yes, you. I know you and Drowzee are still new to training, and you are both quite young, but you have made substantial progress over the past month. I believe you would be able to help if you travelled up to Violet.”

I looked down, unsure. Smith had helped us so much and had never asked for anything in return. Now I had an opportunity to pay back his kindness. But I was supposed to be figuring out the gold and silver ball – going to Violet wouldn’t help with that. And an unprecedented fight between wild Pokemon? That didn’t exactly sound appealing.

I scratched my ear for a moment, then looked back up at Smith. “Was there anything else in that message?”

Smith pulled the paper out of the pouch at his side to glance over it again. “Not much. Edwin did mention that the confrontation is between fire and poison majū. Apparently their battles have left large areas burnt and impassable.” He rolled the paper up again and looked at me. “I do believe you would not be alone. Johto has faced problems of this magnitude several times in my lifetime, and each time a majority of the cities contributed trainers to the cause.”

That made me want to protest that the other trainers could handle the problem, then. But could I really turn my back on my region that easily? The people in this era had taken care of me, a stranger, when they could just as easily have kicked me out. I could repay that hospitality by doing the work of a Pokemon trainer now.

I looked over at Pausso, who sat next to me. He had been paying rapt attention to the conversation (in direct contrast to Hoppip, who hummed quietly to himself as he gazed around the room). “What do you think?” I asked him in a low voice.

Pausso promptly shook his trunk up and down. W̵̳̍ḙ̴͋ ̴͓̎ s̴̋͜h̷͎̎o̸͉͘u̸̞͆l̸͇̂ḋ̵̞ ̵̄ͅh̴̝̄ē̴͉l̸̖̓p̸̓ͅ he thought, sending a stab of pain through my mind. I grimaced – I had left the persim berries back at home.

I sighed, then looked back at Smith. “Fine. We’ll help however we can.”