Before he knew it, walking as fast as his legs would carry him, Slate had reached the Almony Island ferry port. It wasn’t until Eevee purred with concern after they boarded and took their seats, that he realized his birthday gift was still clutched tightly in his palm. He opened his hand and observed the spherical stone while flexing his white fingers to return the blood flow. As the sunlight touched its smooth surface, it shimmered with pastel shades of pink and blue.
Slate couldn’t help but ponder his mother’s words. “Just a little something for luck,” she had said as she bestowed the gift upon him. Just how lucky could the gem be, though? After all, of its two previous owners, one was dead and the other had recently returned from an abduction with an incurable illness.
Still, he had always liked the multi-colored jewel, and not just because of its luster. Seeing it displayed around his mother’s neck kept memories of his father, who had sported the gem before her, fresh in his mind. It meant a lot for his mother to entrust him with it, especially since he had expected it to pass to Jet at some point. So, Slate unfastened the chain’s clasp and fixed it securely around his neck.
“What do you think,” he asked Eevee, forcing a grin, and resolving to snap out of his melancholy mood.
“Buiiii!” Eevee bleated approvingly.
“Mommy, look, an Eevee!” Slate heard someone say. “Can I stroke it?”
Slate turned around as a round-faced female passenger with a bob haircut told a little boy no older than seven, “It might not like that, Charlie.”
“It’s okay, Eevee’s friendly,” said Slate, the mother and son duo reminding him of better times.
With a nod from his mother, the boy popped out of his seat excitedly. “Oh wow! I want an Eevee when I’m big enough to be a Trainer,” he said while gently petting Eevee’s fluffy coat. “My sister said I can’t have one because they don’t live here. How did you get one?”
“Ah, well, me and Eevee just moved here from the Kanto region,” Slate explained. “Are there any Nuteran Pokémon that you like?”
“I like Rodenki!”
“I like Rodenki too,” Slate agreed, thinking fondly of April’s cute partner. “Have you heard of Cryote?”
The boy shook his head.
“Want to see something cool?”
The boy grinned and nodded eagerly.
Slate fished out his black, fingerless Poké Glove. Now seemed as good a time as any to try out Professor Larch’s invention for the first time. He put on the glove and unclipped the first Silph Ball from his Poké Belt, expanding it with a click of its button. He felt the magnetic effect apply to the ball immediately.
“Come out and play, Cryote,” said Slate, tossing the ball into the air with some force. The pup was released with a flash of white, and the ball automatically returned to Slate’s outstretched hand as if pulled by an invisible wire.
“Wow, cool! Look, Mommy!”
Slate watched, his spirits lifted, as his Pokémon and little Charlie chased each other around the deck until the ferry reached the mainland.
As they disembarked and began the short walk up to Hazell Town, Charlie’s mother said, “Thank you, you made his day.”
“No problem. Eevee and Cryote enjoyed themselves too,” Slate replied. “You wouldn’t happen to know the best way to get to Pistachion City, would you?”
The woman considered this for a moment. “Well, you can get a bus from the station, just up here on the left, but it fills quickly at this time of day and doesn’t run very often. Otherwise, the quickest way is through Hazell Woods. It’s about a three-hour walk if you follow the path. Less if you don’t, but lots of wild Pokémon live in there, so I wouldn’t advise it.”
“That’s good to know, thank you. Are you headed that way?”
“No, we’re getting the bus home to Macadam City. We’ve been visiting grandma, haven’t we, Charlie?” the kind woman said in a motherly way. “I figured you were a Trainer in town for the contest, though?”
“Contest?” Slate repeated.
“Today is Hazell Town’s Bug-Catching Contest. See?” she said, pointing toward a large poster adorning a nearby noticeboard. “Melissa hosts it once a month.”
“Melissa?”
“Oh, that’s right. You mentioned you just moved here, didn’t you. Melissa is one of Nutera’s top Pokémon Trainers. I think I heard she used to be a member of the Elite Five.”
“Elite Five?” Slate questioned, thinking of the Kanto Pokémon League quartet that only the toughest Trainers had the right to challenge. “Don’t you mean four?”
“Hmm. I’m pretty sure there are five of them. Don’t quote me on that, though. I don’t follow the Pokémon news that closely, but I remember Melissa because she’s the odd one who likes to walk around barefoot and write poetry! If I recall correctly, she mentioned in the interview I saw that she left her position to spend more time ‘communing with nature’ and less time traveling to Braze Isle for League challenges.”
“She sounds…interesting,” Slate commented.
“She does draw a good crowd. It’s not often you get a chance to meet a celebrity, so lots of Trainers and other people come to town to participate in her contest or get her autograph. There was a queue outside the Pokémon Center the last time we were here on a contest day! There are prizes for the winners. You should check it out.”
“I will,” said Slate as the group arrived at Hazell Town’s crossroads intersection. “Well, thanks for the info! It was nice meeting you both.”
“And you! Best of luck!”
“Say goodbye to Charlie, guys,” Slate told Eevee and Cryote, who each gave the boy a lick on the cheek before they all parted ways.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Bye-bye!” called Charlie, waving his free hand vigorously as his mother guided him away by the other.
Slate waved back while waiting for the last of the ferry’s cars to drive by, then crossed the road to examine the town notice board more closely. The colorful poster included images of items from the Silph Co. Collection, and a larger one of a young woman with flyaway brown hair. She was sitting cross-legged with the wooden handle of a net between her teeth while writing in a notebook. She wasn’t wearing shoes or socks, and the soles of her feet were dirty!
This, it seemed, was the infamous Melissa, and according to the poster’s details, the contest was indeed taking place that very day:
Hazell Town Bug-Catching Contest
Hazell Town Pokémon Center, Saturday 15 September
Our special guest, Melissa, will be signing autographs from 8AM - 11AM
Registration period: 8AM - 1PM
Contest period: 8AM - 6PM
Assessment Period: 11AM - 7PM
Award Presentation: 8PM
1st Place prize: Hyper Ball & Hyper Potion
2nd Place prize: Super Ball & Super Potion
3rd Place prize: Silph Ball & Silph Potion
Slate supposed the contest could be fun. It was his birthday, after all. He ought to do something nice for himself. Then again, he would have to use up at least one of Silph’s pricey Poké Balls for the slim chance of winning another, albeit a potentially better one. Plus, he did already have a Bug-type now.
That reminded him, Crimsant needed treatment. Since that required a visit to the Pokémon Center anyway, he reasoned that it wouldn’t hurt to check out the event. Much to his own surprise, he waxed philosophical as he headed up the road. He was sixteen now. Somehow, he had expected it to feel different. Maybe it would have if he had remembered the milestone was coming.
But then, on reflection, he did feel different. Not from who he was yesterday, but from the—pretty much—carefree kid he had been just over a month ago. He had changed. It hadn’t been an instantaneous transformation that took effect when he turned sixteen, though. It had been a gradual occurrence as a result of his recent experiences, from his mother’s kidnapping to the rigorous training that had followed.
Looking down at his furry companions, Slate wondered if this was how Pokémon grew and learned new abilities, in line with their own experiences. Did that mean that he, like a Pokémon, was capable of evolving?
Just then, a swell of angry voices broke his reverie. Looking in the direction of the disturbance, Slate saw a crowd gathered outside of the red-roofed Pokémon Center building. Apparently, Charlie’s mother had not been exaggerating about the interest in the contest. People were already lining up to take part.
As he approached, he realized they weren’t lining up so much as brawling. “You better return for now, guys,” Slate advised, storing the small creatures in their balls out of worry that they might get trampled in the commotion.
“Please form an orderly queue!” snapped a nurse with her hands on her hips. “If you’re participating in today’s contest, please line up single file on the left! Only those of you visiting for regular services may enter at the moment.”
Slate skirted the outer edges of the crowd as they continued to push and shove. There was a surprising mix of young and old trainers among them, all arguing about who arrived first. He couldn’t help but feel a little judgmental about the way they were behaving. Was the chance to meet this Melissa person really worth all this hubbub?
“I’m just here for healing,” Slate pre-empted the frazzled nurse, who quickly forced a smile and stood aside. “Every month…” he heard her mutter with a sigh as he passed by.
The queue continued inside the building, though, in a much more orderly manner, leading up to a point where three long folding tables had been erected. At the head of two of them, Slate presumed contest registrations were being taken, but his view of the third was obstructed.
Reaching the counter, a fuchsia-haired nurse welcomed Slate and asked him to confirm his ID by inserting his Rotom Phone into the device dock. He then handed his three Silph Balls to her for inspection. She placed them on a tray, and then into her scanner for the initial assessment screening. A few seconds later, she turned from her PC to a somewhat large black and white Pokémon beside her, and said, “A standard healing cycle, please, Myschief.”
Bulky but about as tall as the desk, Slate hadn’t noticed the smiling Pokémon at first, but it appeared in his line of sight after taking the tray and beginning to levitate off the ground. It had a small set of wings on its back, but their slow movements couldn’t possibly be flapping fast enough to support its weight. Regardless, the Pokémon floated away with the tray and inserted it into one of the three wall-mounted healing machines, the doors of which opened like ovens.
“So, this is a Myschief?” Slate said to himself, hearing the Pokédex on his chest go to work. *Ping*.
SPECIES
#032 Myschief
DERIVATION
Mystic + Mischief + Chief
CATEGORY
Mischievous
COLORING
Black
Pink
Violet
TYPE
Dark
Fairy
ABILITIES
Trick
Levitate
Misty Surge
DETAILS
Despite being known for playing tricks, this joyful Pokémon will employ mysterious healing powers when it sees others in pain. In recent years, Myschief have made significant contributions to the field of medicine.
As he had surmised upon first hearing about the Pokémon during his brief visit to Pistachion Hospital, the Myschief of Nutera filled the role of the Chansey or Blissey often present in Kanto’s medical facilities.
The nurse told him cheerily, “Your Pokémon will be all healed up in five minutes. Have a seat, and I’ll bring them to you when they’re ready.”
“Thanks,” said Slate, then took a seat on one of the many comfy sofas. From there, he had a better view of the contest registration line, which was moving at a snail’s pace. Sat behind the third table, he could now see a young woman with a listless expression and wild hair. Since she appeared to be signing autographs, and the legs under her table were barefoot, Slate deduced that this was Melissa.
Slate studied her from afar for a while. While he knew you weren’t supposed to judge a book by its cover, he just couldn’t picture Melissa as a former Elite Four member, or Elite Five member as the case may be in Nutera. Compared with Kanto’s top four, she clearly had neither Bruno’s intimidating physique, Lorelei’s cool vibe, Agatha’s years of experience, nor Lance’s charisma. In fact, her disheveled appearance and airy demeanor gave just the opposite impressions.
As he watched her disinterestedly sign autographs for excited members of the public, Slate couldn’t help but wonder, perhaps her image was all a ruse, meant to lull opponents into a false sense of security? Perhaps her strategy was to wait for opponents to lower their guard before unleashing her fearsome Pokémon? “Nah,” he said aloud with a dismissive chuckle.
“Talking to yourself? They say that’s the first sign of madness, you know,” spoke a condescending voice to his rear.
Slate spun around in his chair, his mouth agape. Stood in front of the videophones was none other than April Larch—and Rodenki, who popped out of her hood with a squeak of greeting. “What are you doing here?” he exclaimed.
April adopted a wicked grin, and answered, “Beating you in the Bug-Catching Contest, of course!”
[https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/0fd97e43-196a-4657-8d16-c18592169506/dgjk2qb-f27705be-718f-4277-9a04-c62d97514a0f.png/v1/fill/w_894,h_894,q_70,strp/pokemon_slate_gray_s2e04_art__myschief_by_tezofalltrades_dgjk2qb-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTA4MCIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzBmZDk3ZTQzLTE5NmEtNDY1Ny04ZDE2LWMxODU5MjE2OTUwNlwvZGdqazJxYi1mMjc3MDViZS03MThmLTQyNzctOWEwNC1jNjJkOTc1MTRhMGYucG5nIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTEwODAifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.RXh4v0ssE8BZqn6fxLqw_zTzQDXdl1lBQr8sgfqihaU]