Winning a gym challenge certainly had its fair share of rewards. Not just the badge and the TM, which were the standard for a successful gym battle, regardless of what caliber of Pokémon that the gym leader decided to throw at you, but also in terms of prize money. Don't get me wrong, the two grand or so that I was informed by the receptionist was the bare minimum for a victory at the Oreburgh Gym is good money, and probably could get me all the way to Eterna City with a little bit to spare, but the prize money also scaled with how difficult the gym challenge was.

It made sense, considering that really powerful trainers, who were serious about competing in the big tournaments and potentially even challenging the Elite four or the Champion would spend a lot of money on medicines, TMs, and vitamins for their Pokémon; winning big money by taking on the toughest Pokémon that a gym leader could offer helped fund such a rigorous training regimen. And it certainly made for better, more exciting TV when the gym leader brought out some of their more powerful Pokémon. I wouldn't ever be ready to become a TV star, but it felt like I was being compensated like one, because I netted just over five grand after taxes for my victory.

That meant I could afford to splurge a little bit. The Oreburgh Nurse Joy informed me that while my Pokémon needed a few days to recover, the worst of their injuries were a few broken ribs from Charmander, meaning that they didn't have to stay in the healing wards overnight. I figured a group dinner would be a nice way to celebrate, so I went and ordered takeout. My options for food were a bit limited, since I couldn't go to any of the bars, and most of these places were greasy fast-food joints. I was considering just getting a pizza, but I found a noodle place on the way there and ordered some ramen instead. It went over pretty well, though I'm sure Glaceon would have scandalized some ramen connoisseurs by turning it cold before starting to eat. We had a couple of laughs too when Charmander tried to imitate me by slurping the noodles up and getting liquid all over his face, and then again when Glaceon tried to show him how it was done only to get the same result.

Oddish ate with us, but her reward was getting a face full of fresh dirt in the Pokémon center garden. While she appreciated poffins and berries, like the majority of Grass-type Pokémon, she could sustain herself through nutrients from the soil and photosynthesis. My Pokémon was an exception, as a plant that didn't like the sun, which was confirmed by Nurse Joy, with the caveat that sunlight wasn't exactly bad for Oddishes; they just despised it, and preferred moonlight instead. But at least that gave me a couple of ideas of what to work on. Maybe she wouldn't be willing to learn moves like Sunny Day, Synthesis and Solarbeam yet, but Growth should still be possible, as well as a couple of other moves that involve energy gained from the moon.

Finally, I spent some money at the market as well, grabbing a few potions, a great ball, and a badge case so I wouldn't have to pin them on the inside of my clothing, along with my share of the usual traveling supplies like food and water. Potions were a necessity on the road, but they were also expensive. I can't wait to get to a vending machine and fill my bags with every fresh water, soda pop and lemonade I can afford, assuming that like in the games, they are way cheaper and more effective than a potion. I still had the majority of the Pokéballs from Sandgem town, since I had only caught Oddish to this point, but you never know when you would run into something impressive, hence the great ball. I did also consider buying some berries to try and give to Ursula for some different poffins, but the quality of these berries was pretty poor, which wasn't a surprise considering they either were grown here in Oreburgh, or were imported from somewhere else and were already several days old. I'd probably get much better quality of berries literally in any other city, whose primary business was not coal mining.

The secondary outcome of winning the gym challenge was that when we did hit the road, I had officially become a hotshot. Nearly everyone who is traveling from Jubilife to Oreburgh is looking to challenge Roark for their first gym badge. That meant anyone coming in the reverse direction had won their gym challenge and was not to be messed with. I mean sure, you could technically ride the cycling road all the way up to Eterna, but it was rather difficult, number one, with it being entirely uphill. Secondly, there was absolutely no benefit to doing it, unless you were training for a bike race or you for some reason despised your quadriceps. Sure, there were a few cyclist trainers on the road, but there were no wild Pokémon, no challenging environments, and the steep slope made it a pretty poor place to battle unless you had some flying or levitating Pokémon.

Going the long way, back to Jubilife, and then traveling to Eterna City through Floaroma town, Valley Windworks, and Eterna forest gave you way better opportunities to catch new Pokémon, battle a bunch of trainers, and in general get stronger. I would have gone this way even if we didn't have to go to Floaroma town for Ursula's next contest. I wanted to see as much of this world as possible, which meant visiting the flower meadows of Floaroma and the windmills in the nearby valley that were famed, not just in Sinnoh, but even from back in Unova.

We made really good time on the way back to Jubilife, considering I wasn't stopped every thirty minutes by some kid who wanted to show off his newly purchased shorts and battle me with his Bidoof and Kricketot, making it all the way through Oreburgh Tunnel, making sure not to stop at any cave ponds lest one was hiding a Gyarados or a freshwater Sharpedo this time, to the area around the lake where I had first met Oddish in approximately a day and a half. We settle down around three to rest and make camp for the night. Lucas pitches his tent with lightning speed, before telling us he would be back around dinner.

"Slow down, man. Where are you running off to?" I asked, in the midst of pitching my own tent.

"Chimchar and I are going to look for an Abra to catch!"

Not this again. "Why Abra?"

Lucas looks incredulous, but he slowly explains anyway. "Abra evolves into Kadabra, which can evolve into Alakazam by achieving total mastery over its psychic pow-"

I wave my hand impatiently whilst cutting him off. "No, I know all of that. Why Abra, as in why that of all the Pokémon you could try for? Don't you think it's a bit too challenging for you?"

"What's that supposed to mean," he asks defensively while frowning.

Now who's the one who needs an obvious explanation? "You haven't caught anything yet, so maybe you shouldn't go after a Pokémon that teleports away if you mess up even slightly?"

He drags me away for privacy, even though Ursula has seen his failures firsthand. "Would it kill you to be somewhat supportive? I was before your gym challenge. Speaking of that, don't think you're the only one getting stronger," he gripes, leveling a finger at my face. "Chimchar learned a new move the other day, and that gives us the perfect combination to be able to catch one."

I bat the finger out of my face. "It's not my fault you don't like my advice. And you guys learned Fire Spin a week ago, so it's not anything new. Plus, Abra is still tricky to catch, even if you can prevent it from teleporting away with Fire Spin.

"I wasn't talking about Fire Spin. And I guess expecting you to have some faith was a little too much to ask. But fine. I'll just prove you wrong when I come back with an Abra."

"Whatever, dude." I say dismissively. "Knock yourself out."

He stomps away, and I feel slightly bad. Lucas is probably nervous that Professor Rowan would turn up in Jubilife, and that he'd have no Pokémon to show for his adventure. The nice part of me wants to call him back and apologize, but the vindictive part of me squashes that notion like a grape. I was just being honest, and sometimes the truth hurts. I'd admit I was wrong on the miniscule chance he actually brought back an Abra.

Forget Lucas. I had way more important things to do than saying sorry because I hurt his feelings. I throw out all three of my Pokéballs simultaneously, and my three Pokémon appear in front of me. I clap to get their attention, and then I tell them the plan. "Alright you lot. We won our first gym badge, but that's no reason to sit around. It's time for some training!"

Charmander and Oddish copy my enthusiasm, raising a paw in the air or jumping up and down, but they often take cues from Glaceon, since she is fully evolved, and has known me the longest, and their enthusiasm starts to wane when they realize that Glaceon is not excited, and in fact has a dubious look on her face, probably remembering any number of ill-fated training sessions. I mean yeah, that obstacle course I had set up one time was a total waste of effort, as was when I tried to have her drag around a rock for strength training back when she was an Eevee but give me some credit here. My trick with Water Pulse works great! It already won us a couple of battles. You would think she'd have a little more faith in her trainer.

Just like you had faith in Lucas, is the sarcastic reply in my head. I guess she gets it from me. Whatever. I push those thoughts aside and address Glaceon."This is legit stuff, so wipe that look off your face." I pull out the Pokédex and point it at her for proof.

"Glaceon. The Fresh Snow Pokémon and one of the evolved forms of Eevee. By controlling its body heat, Glaceon can freeze the atmosphere around it to make a diamond-dust flurry. This makes Glaceon very popular at ski resorts." I'd keep the second sentence in mind if I ever wanted to open up a business, but the first is what I was concerned with.

I can't place the expression on her face, but I'd daresay she's somewhat intrigued, although it must be disconcerting to be talked about in a dictionary like that. "Can you do that, Glaceon?"

My Ice-type gets up on all fours, furrowing her brow as she concentrates intensely for several seconds. Sure enough, a flurry of snow appears around her before rapidly melting away as soon as she stops.

"Perfect. The move I want you to work on is called Ice Shard. It's when you rapidly freeze ice and launch them at your opponent. Usually, the attack comes from your mouth, but since you can do that," I explain, referencing her ability to summon a localized flurry out of nowhere, "I want to see if you can form the ice out of the moisture in the air and hurl that ice. There might be more moisture near the lake, if you want to practice over there. Just keep your eyes on the water."

Normally, I wouldn't bother with Ice Shard on a Glaceon, since its base attack is lower than that of the mighty Goldeen, while its special attack is equivalent to a legendary Pokémon like Latios. But I think it was Roark who gave me the inspiration to go ahead and work on this. As far as I could tell, battle style is less about whatever base stats a Pokémon had, and more about how Trainers play to their Pokémons' strengths, such as Roark's Rampardos throwing its body around with reckless abandon and Fighting-types learning a lot of moves that involve punching, kicking, and other martial techniques. I do the same, by trying to keep Glaceon at range and fire off strong special attacks. But even Rampardos, one of the most physically powerful Pokémon ever, knew Flamethrower, and used it to great effect in our battle. It's just better to have versatility, and as a result more options, in your battling style. Ice Shard is a priority move, so it should be super-fast as an attack, and if we could actually manufacture and manipulate ice out of midair? Then the possibilities would be endless, and I'd try my absolute damndest to try and turn Glaceon into some Pokémon version of Frozone from the Incredibles.

But this was just the start. Glaceon gives me a nod and stalks off to practice.

I look at Oddish next, the absolute conundrum, who went against everything I had ever learned about plants. Am I to believe in the laws of science, or Pokémon logic?

Pokémon logic it is. My biology teacher must be turning over in her grave at what I'm about to say.

"So… Nurse Joy tells me that you grow from moonlight rather than from the sun, Oddish." That gets a very eager nod. Even as we are speaking, Oddish has taken up a position within my shadow, so she doesn't receive any sunlight. "If that's the case, then I want you to start learning how to use that energy for other things other than food."

"The first move I want you to start with is called Growth, which is supposed to increase your attacking power after you take in energy. It works in all weathers, so I want you to at least try using it while the sun is out before trying it at night." That finally starts to sink her mood a little, but I press on with my plan.

"The second one is called Moonlight, which is a Fairy-type move that heals you. And the last is a powerful Fairy-type attack called Moonblast. I know you're not a Fairy-Type Pokémon, but I think you should be a natural at this, with your affinity for the moon and all."

"Just work on Growth for now, and then take a break until the night falls. And don't worry about using those moves right away. Concentrate on gathering the Fairy energy first, then we can figure out how to use them down the road," I tack on before she runs off, eager to master Growth so she could get out of the sun, no doubt.

That leaves only one. And there's no need to work on a new move, since he already pulled one out during the gym battle. Charmander looks at me questioningly, so I grin at him in response. "You're with me, Charmander. Let's see how fast you can fire off a Dragon Rage." I tell the fire lizard, showing him the timer function on my Pokétch as I do.

It turns out that six seconds is the fastest Charmander can charge up and release a Dragon Rage right after I command. He fires off about ten in succession over the lake, going down in time until the last three are all in the six to six-point two second range. Charmander's probably not going to get any faster until he evolves and his firepower increases. The Oreburgh Nurse Joy informed me that while he was growing normally, but that his ability to use fire, like a lot of Fire-types, depending on how strong and fierce his inner flame could burn, and Charmander's just not powerful enough to use any advanced techniques like manipulating fire to enhance his limbs for moves like Fire Punch or Blaze Kick yet. Flamethrower and other more powerful moves would probably have to be put on the backburner as well, until he could generate a consistent flow of fire. Right now, it was all short bursts, such as to make Dragon Rage, which I'm not even sure is normal fire, or a stream of embers for an Ember attack.

Ursula had let her Gible out, and is grooming him, or at least trying to look like she is, by scrubbing off his old scales, polishing the new ones and flossing his teeth. Whenever I glanced over, she looked away, like she wasn't paying attention to Charmander's training. She had positioned Gible tactically, to give him a front row seat to what we were doing. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that she was trying to get her own Dragon-type Pokémon to pick up Dragon Rage by watching Charmander.

As per usual, she is far too proud to out and out ask for help, instead preferring to try and sneak in a demonstration without telling me. Honestly. What was with her? Just ask, and I'll have Charmander show Gible how to use Dragon Rage.

I catch her eye, so she knows that I've caught onto her little scheme, but Ursula still pretends like she is oblivious to what we're doing. Fine. I'll suppose I'll just take the initiative.

I steer my Pokémon over towards our coordinator companion, who pointedly continues to work away at her Pokémon, despite him looking impeccable already. "Did you need something?" she snidely asks, not looking at either of us.

"You're not subtle at all Ursula. I know what you're up to."

Even having been caught red-handed, she still plays the fool. "And what might that be?" Ursula responds defiantly.

So, this is how it's going to be, eh? I address her Pokémon instead. "Do you want to learn how to use Dragon Rage, Gible? I can have Charmander show you the ropes."

The landshark looks ecstatic. "Gible, Gib!" he chatters excitedly. I don't need to be a talking Meowth to understand that one. But his face falls slightly, and he looks up to his trainer for permission.

I can see the internal tug-of-war clearly on her face, as she struggles to reconcile her stubbornness and pride with her desire for Gible to learn a brand-new move. Finally, she comes to a reluctant conclusion. "If that is what you wish, Gible, you are welcome to learn." She nods at Charmander. "Thank you for taking time out of your training, Charmander."

With that finally settled, Charmander and Gible trundle off, chatting animatedly.

I cross my arms. "Don't worry about us wasting time. It will still help Charmander if he's able to instruct Gible." That wasn't even a lie. It's one thing to be able to perform a move, but hopefully teaching another Pokémon would give him a better understanding of it. "And anyways, I'm surprised Gible doesn't know it already. Dragon Rage is one of the first moves a Dragon-type Pokémon should learn, right?"

"What are you saying?" She asks slowly.

I'm sure she knows that I'm implying that Gible barely has any training, and I'll bet all my recently earned prize money that he probably hasn't even been in a proper Pokémon contest either.

"Are you going to use Gible in the next contest?" I deflect, to which she nods in affirmation.

So, she's planning on using him, but doesn't want any help as far as training goes. Something isn't adding up. If there's an elephant Pokémon out there, it's definitely in the room with Ursula and me. She still refuses to address it, so once again, I'm the one taking the initiative. But that doesn't mean I need to be nice about it.

I plop down next to her before getting straight to the point. "What's with your attitude, Ursula. I've never met someone so averse to being helped in my life," I ask bluntly. Both lives, when I think about it.

"That," Ursula replies with vitriol, "is none of your business.

"Seeing as you joined up because you were interested in replicating one of my techniques, I'd say it is. So, spill the beans."

"You mean your only technique," she mutters, loud enough for me to hear. "It only works once per battle, so I would not be too proud. But there is naught for me to explain. It simply goes against my station to be indebted to anyone. Think nothing of it."

That sounded like a bunch of Trubbish to me. She's hiding something, and I could smell it like a Sharpedo sensing wounded prey. "It should also be against your station to accept help from a commoner like me, so that isn't actually the reason, is it?"

"As I have said, repeatedly, I might add, I do not wish to be beholden to someone. When I go to the Grand Festival, it will be on my own merit, unlike one of-"

Her mouth snaps shut immediately, and not a sound escapes thereafter. Her usage of the move Clamp would have put even a namesake Clamperl to shame.

I do my best to pry her shell open. "Unlike one of what? A normal person that gets help from other people? I hate to break it to you Ursula, but one contest ribbon in a town that barely anybody has heard of isn't helping your claim that you're exceptionally talented or whatever," I taunt, waiting for an equally barbed reply, but all I get is a furious glare.

I thought for sure she would go back at me after I insulted her like that, but clearly, I've underestimated her. Time for a different approach.

"Or maybe you're just ungrateful, huh. Maybe I should find someone else that would appreciate my talents." Now to go for the throat. "Wallace is coming to Pastoria for a contest, right? I bet he'd appreciate a move like mine, being a Water-type master and all. I'll have to make sure I give him a personal demonstration once we get there. And maybe some other moves, if I can come up with any."

Her face is steadily turning the color of her hair, either from embarrassment or anger, but she still manages to hold her tongue, despite her being a bit of a spitfire. Now I'm impressed. I lean back in the grass, staring at the sky as I give her some praise for my last attempt.

"You sure are a tough nut to crack, Ursula. But I will figure you out, if you stick around long enough. I can tell you're hiding something behind all that makeup and attitude, and you can't keep a secret forever."

Her stony silence tells me what she thinks of that idea. I don't even get a non-believing scoff or anything!

Sigh. Today is a terrible day for interacting with people, isn't it. Ah well. I guess there's only one thing left to say, that might potentially be the reason Ursula is acting up like this.

I grunt as I stand up, wiping some grass from my back and my pants. "Listen, Ursula. I'm not going to say that I will never enter a contest, because I want to experience one, or in case one of my Pokémon develops an interest. But I'm not out to be your crappy rival or anything like that. So don't go getting that thought into your head. It's clear to me that you don't have a great interest in Pokémon battles, so I don't feel bad if your Pokémon are learning from mine, alright? It's perfectly fine for us to share information back and forth."

No response, other than the continued silent treatment. I guess I'll go try my luck elsewhere and see how my Pokémon's training is going.

I leave without hearing her response, but hopefully she believes me. The first of my team I go to check on is Oddish, who, to her credit, has been practicing Growth, while standing in the sun no less, like I told her to.

She grumbles at me as I approach. I lean down and look over her with a critical eye. "I think it's been working, you know," I offer. "I'm pretty sure your leaves have grown a little bit." That was a total fib. There is no way I could tell the length of her leaves without having a measuring stick on hand. From what I could see, they look exactly the same as they have always had.

Unfortunately for me, Oddish is a much better judge than I am. She brings her leaves down, bending them where they connect to her body to cover her face, inspecting them carefully for several seconds. They spring back up and she makes her displeasure known.

She dresses me down animatedly. If I had to throw out a guess, I'd assume she said something like "You made me stand out here for all this time for nothing!"

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I just wanted her to feel like something had been accomplished, but I obviously needed harder proof. Luckily, I had another method to do just that.

"Alright, I'll prove to you that this was useful training," I say, holding my hands up. "Use Magical Leaf in that direction." I gesture with my chin behind her.

She obliges, sending out a whirlwind of glowing, homing leaves out.

"Okay, now use Growth, and then use Magical Leaf again!"

This time, everything about the Magical Leaf is better. The velocity of the attack, the number of leaves in it, and even the amount of area that they cover. But let's leave no doubt in her mind. "Do the same process with Acid."

Once again, the attack after taking in some sunlight and turning it into energy is better than the previous one. I'm not sure if Oddish is happy that I was right though, since that means she can't get out of standing in the sun anymore. Someday, I'll break it to her that her special ability is actually Chlorophyll, and that both Growth and Moonlight are way better after using Sunny Day than they are normally. But that can wait for later. Right now, I'll take any victories I can get.

"Well done. Go ahead and take a long break, and you can practice again when the moon comes out," I congratulate Oddish, holding a Poffin out for her to take. She chomps the whole thing down before giving a happy cheer and running off into the cool, damp soil near the lake, burying herself to wait for nightfall, while I go look for the next member of my team.

I observe Glaceon from a distance, as she continues to try and fail to create anything more than a fine powder of snow dust, the very same that she had first demonstrated after I looked up her ability with the Pokédex. Maybe that was just me creating unrealistic expectations for her. Pokémon had limits after all, and maybe creating ice out of thin air from the moisture in the air was just out of the realm of possibilities. We can just work on a normal Ice Shard instead. I grab a rock from the side of the water and throw it into the lake as hard as I can to get her attention.

She doesn't look all that excited to see me. I suppose it's only fair, since another one of my training ideas has failed spectacularly, yet again.

"No luck, Glaceon? I guess I was reaching when I said you could create ice out of the air. I'll try and look up a video of a battle where someone uses Ice Shard the regular way, alright?"

She huffs and turns her back on me pointedly and starts up the freezing air around her process that makes the dusty snow flurry in defiance. Today is really just a cursed day, where even my longest and closest friend isn't listening to me. I try to make a peace offering, pulling out another one of Ursula's poffins and holding it out. "Glaceon, it's okay that you can't get it to work right now. It's only been a couple of hours, and I'm not disappointed in you or anything…"

She whirls around, knocking the poffin straight into the lake with her left paw. After a couple of seconds, I see an Azumarill appear on the surface, floating on its back while it enjoys its newly found treat. I narrow my eyes at my first Pokémon. "What's gotten into you? I already said it's fine if you can't get it to happen."

My Pokémon looks utterly serious as she says something to me.

I assume this is more criticisim, telling me not to come up with any ludicrous ideas again. "Fine. No more birdbrained schemes from me. Just because we pulled off the one with Water Pulse isn't proof that anything I dream up is golden. From now on, everything we do will be a legitimate move that someone- Ow!"

I'm stunned into silence because I can hardly believe that I've made Glaceon so angry that she's bitten down on my hand! I know she's still being careful, because I've seen her canines and they are definitely sharp, and she's not putting enough pressure to draw blood, but the fact that she's done this at all is what's so surprising.

I don't really know what to do, but my first defense has always been to make light of a situation. "Well, I guess we don't need to practice using Bite, because you already know it!"

My Pokémon's face and the way she hasn't moved a muscle tells me what she thinks of that statement, so I try again, more seriously.

"I've apologized already, and I won't make you do this anymore," I start slowly, and Glaceon increases the pressure on my hand. Well then. Time to go in the opposite direction. "What you're trying to tell me is that you want to learn this, and I shouldn't be giving up on this so quickly." That seems to be correct, since she starts to lessen the force of her bite.

"But if you can't-" She starts to bite down again, and I finally am starting to understand. "Ok. OK. If you're so committed to wanting to learn this, then I will be too. I swear I'll figure out a different way for us to practice this, until you're going to master this Ice Shard. Deal?"

Glaceon finally releases my hand from her mouth, and gives me a nod, sealing the agreement, before I return my Pokémon to her Pokéball in a flash of light. I want this idea to work, and apparently, so does she. Now I just need to find a way to make it happen.

I finally go to check in on Charmander and Gible's progress. Apparently, Charmander is an excellent teacher, since Gible is firing off Dragon Rage after Dragon Rage one after the other like some kind of mortar, tilting back its head and launching them into the sky from its cavernous mouth.

Which is making Charmander a dejected fire lizard, seeing how Gible could use Dragon Rage every couple of seconds, and Charmander was three times as slow as Ursula's Pokémon. I don't even trust myself to not totally fuck up this conversation, so I just lay a hand on Charmander's head. "Great work today, Charmander. Take a rest in your Pokéball for now," I say, offering him a poffin while trying to smile. He takes it, but Charmander's disappointed face still lingers in my mind even as he disappears in a flash of red.

I'm almost glad Lucas doesn't show up for the most awkward dinner ever, with Ursula and Glaceon still refusing to speak to me, and Charmander sighing moodily because Gible is so much better than him at Dragon Rage. I'm considering whether or not I should go look for him, when the lab assistant finally marches in with Chimchar in tow. Just Chimchar. I don't want to say I told him so, but…

"Did you catch an Abra?"

"..."

I told him so.

----------------------------------------

I thought that dinner was the peak of awkwardness, but it was nothing compared to the next couple days of travel, where we robotically marched, ate, and slept in near silence. It's an enormous relief when someone finally manages to have the guts to challenge me, probably because we are only a day or so out from Jubilife, and no one knows any better.

My opponent this time is a classic youngster, complete with a brightly colored cap, a fresh pair of shorts, and bandages on his knees. He's ready for his upcoming gym battle, with three Pokémon of his own to matchup against Roark's three Pokémon. Unfortunately for him, Oddish's newly learned Growth means that even though his Turtwig is able to trade some hits with my Grass-type, it falls to a boosted Acid attack, and his other two Pokémon, a Rattata that I'm sure is in the top-percentage of its kind, and a pink West Sea Shellos, both get whacked by a boosted Magical Leaf.

At least his spirit isn't diminished, I think, as the youngster turns his royal blue hat sideways, leveling a finger at me as he speaks.

"I just underestimated you, lady! Just you wait! I'll beat down Roark for this gym badge then I'll come back and beat you too!"

With that bold proclamation, he spins on his heel and dashes away back towards Jubilife to heal up his Pokémon before attempting again to try and make it to Oreburgh.

I recall Oddish for some rest after her great battle and we watch him fade into the horizon, Lucas voices his thoughts on the battle he just refereed.

"Think he has any chance at beating the Oreburgh Gym?" He asks no one in particular.

Ursula snorts. "Maybe if the gym leader battled with a blindfold and earmuffs on."

Well, he has a Turtwig and a Shellos, so he probably could manage a victory against a couple of Roark's weaker Pokémon. It all just depends on what the Gym Leader thinks of you. I don't think it's in their nature to go easy on a challenger, but at the same time, they don't want to set the bar so high that a trainer gets discouraged and gives up. It's a fine line that you need to walk, being a gym leader. I realize that both my companions are waiting for me to contribute to the conversation, so I throw in my two cents.

"Maybe he could, depending on what Roark thinks of the kid. He went hard on me, but that doesn't mean he battles like that against every single trainer who challenges him."

There's a rustle in the bushes beside us, and for some reason, a person who was hiding there decides to make his appearance. He is wearing a two-tone blue jacket, matching blue shoes, and ordinary gray pants. The only thing remotely unique about his appearance was his violet hair. Well, I take that back, because his eyes were also something interesting. Not because of their shape or color or anything, that was all normal. It's the intensity of them; it's almost startling how serious and evaluating his gaze is, and I get the feeling that this guy is something different from the average trainer.

Before any of us can inquire if and why exactly he was spying on us from the brush, he's already started to interrogate us.

"You went to the Oreburgh Gym and won in a proper battle? The gym leader didn't use any of those weak, training-wheel Pokémon?" the mystery traveler demands, straightforward and to the point, directing the question at me.

I don't agree with him that Onix was weak, per se. Roark said as much himself, and it knew powerful moves. The rock snake had probably won its fair share of battles for Roark, I just had a good idea on how to beat it. "Yeah, I beat him a few days ago," I shrug, glancing at my companions for support, though both of them are looking as mystified as me. I don't see why I should be hiding anything. I'm proud that I won a gym badge.

His expression tells me he still isn't convinced. "Then let me see your gym badge."

I'm a little hesitant about handing over my badge for inspection, because the only person I know with this hairstyle and color is James from Team Rocket, but I was pretty sure James was an adult, not a teenager, and I'm not sure he even exists. Even if he did, it wasn't like he operated solo. I open my badge case, retrieving my recently won Coal Badge and passing it over. I probably should be more worried about him stealing it, but the League keeps a detailed record of gym battles, to ensure competitive fairness when it comes to the major tournaments. It wasn't so archaic as writing my name on a statue either; the record of my battle was permanently on their database. Roark might give me a hard time, but he could easily find out even if he didn't remember me, to issue me a replacement whenever I next passed through Oreburgh.

Thankfully, this guy has no intentions of running off with my badge, instead holding it up to the light to try and see any imperfections or flaws that would indicate that it was counterfeit. He looks between me and it for a second, and silently hands it back for me.

He replaces the badge with a Pokéball as soon as it leaves his hand and makes a request of me as I return my badge to where it belongs.

"Battle me." I said it was a request, but it sounds more like he is ordering me to.

"You want to battle because I have a gym badge?" It's been the opposite for the past few days, after all.

"The fact that you have that badge indicates to me that you're an opponent worth battling. Especially if it's true that Roark didn't go easy on you. Most of the trainers here are just a bunch of run-of-the-mill, low-life losers that aren't even worth the time I spend destroying them. Don't worry about it taking too much time. All I want is a one-on-one battle, so I can test a Pokémon that I just caught to see if it will perform well at the gym."

Jeez, what an intense guy. Sure, some of these kids were kinda annoying, but they were kids with their very own Pokémon at the end of the day. They were allowed to be happy, and if Pokémon battling was still just a fun game to them, who really cares, as long as no one got seriously hurt. But if this guy wanted to have a barometer before his gym battle, I could oblige him.

"I don't think we'll need a referee this time, considering we're only using one Pokémon each." I tell Lucas, taking my place on the crude dirt and grass field that had been the battlefield for my previous match against the youngster.

The purple-haired stranger gives me an icy glare. "You can have a referee if you want, but just know that my Pokémon stops battling when I say so, not because of some referee's call."

That sends Lucas's eyebrows into his hat, as he and Ursula step back a safe distance. "I'll just tell you guys when to start then," he says coolly. I put Lucas out of my mind as I evaluate my opponent once more.

A match against a trainer with no gym badges should be just fine for Oddish or Charmander to take care of. But there's something different with this guy. Not just his arrogant attitude, and the fact he knew gym leaders changed their Pokémon based on your level as a trainer. His whole demeanor is comparable to that of a gym leader, or any of the top veteran trainers that I see on TV. Those guys have all the confidence in the world and go into every battle expecting to win. Based on his earlier words, and if this trainer was cut from the same cloth, he would not appreciate me going easy on him. I just hope Glaceon isn't still cross with me.

Standard etiquette for when each trainer was planning to use only one Pokémon is to send out your Pokémon at the same time, so no one got an advantage by seeing the other first, but it really didn't matter if my opponent was planning to use the same Pokémon regardless of what I sent out.

"Glaceon, you're up!"

"Sandslash, stand by for battle!"

My strongest Pokémon makes a confident sound as we both look over at our opponent. It had a mostly tan body with a white underbelly, pointy brown spikes all over its back, and gleaming white claws. Being a Ground-type Pokémon, Sandslash was certainly suited for a battle at a Rock-type Pokémon Gym, but it didn't have a great match up here.

Lucas throws up a nearby rock into the sky, saying that the battle begins when it hits the ground. I take the precious few seconds to think this over. It's weak to Icy Wind and Water Pulse, and if it's freshly caught, it might not know any super-effective moves. Sand-Attack is probably out the window, though, as is anything else that makes contact. So, basically the same plan as usual.

The fantasy that it wouldn't have anything super-effective is quickly shattered as soon as the battle began. An order is out of my opponent's mouth right when the rock hits the ground. "Start with Swift, then use Rollout!"

Sandslash fires off a barrage of stars from its mouth before curling up into a ball, so that its underbelly is concealed behind an array of nasty spines, before taking some time to rev up like the wheels of a car. Once it's ready, Sandslash speeds toward us like a bowling ball of pain. Using two attacks consecutively like that was clever, I'll give him that.

But the far more important one to avoid is Rollout. Glaceon could take a couple of Swifts, and I know better to try and avoid it. "Let the Swift hit you, and then slow down Sandslash with Icy Wind so you can dodge the Rollout!"

A little bit of the knot in my stomach loosens as she obeys my every command, bracing herself for the star-shaped projectiles to pepper her entire body, but then blasting the incoming Sandslash with an Icy Wind. Not enough to completely stop the Rollout in its tracks, but Sandslash's speed was reduced significantly.

So much so that Glaceon was easily able to sidestep the incoming attack, and because Rollout has to restart every time if you're not able to keep chaining attacks together, Sandslash screeches to a stop, stumbling as it did. Our opponent is clearly more comfortable moving whilst in ball form. The purple-haired trainer angrily admonishes his Pokémon. "What are you doing!"

This is an opening if I've ever seen one. "Go for a Water Pulse!"

"Use Rollout again!" Maybe Sandslash wouldn't be able to dodge, with its poor movement ability in this stance, but its trainer doesn't even bother calling for one, just letting the super-effective attack connect for free. It's almost as if… he's punishing Sandslash, for not being able to execute the previous Rollout properly. But that sounds ridiculous. Who does that in the middle of a battle?

Sandslash shakes off some water droplets, before curling up again and whirling at us like before.

Is this more of my opponent's punishment for his Pokémon? Forcing it to repeat the attack until it manages to do it correctly? I kinda feel bad for Sandslash. Not bad enough to lose though. "Counter it again with Icy Wind!"

Just as Sandslash approaches our attack once again, our opponent shouts. "Jump!" Even while curled into a ball, it manages to do just that, by digging two of its spikes into the ground to launch itself into the air, bypassing our attack completely. The Ground-type Pokémon launches toward us even faster than before, with gravity giving the attack even more momentum.

"Use Quick Attack to dodge!" I call, slightly panicked, as the spike ball nears her. Glaceon just about manages to get away, but not completely unscathed. The two longest spikes still catch her on the back, leaving long red slash marks that bleed profusely and staining her blue fur red. Glaceon cries out in pain, but I can tell she still wants to battle. I'm just thankful that Sandslash doesn't have Poison Point for an ability, or that really would have been the end for us.

Alright, so my opponent is still trying to win this battle, he just likes to do it a bit differently. I can't afford to make another mistake like that again. Time to wipe that arrogant smirk of his face.

"Water Pulse Attack!"

He openly scoffs, but this time he isn't going to let Sandslash get hit for free. "Destroy it with Night Slash." The Ground-type Pokémon holds out its claws, letting them drip with malicious energy, while it waits for the right moment to cut our attack to ribbons.

Perhaps Ursula is right in saying that this whole freezing Water Pulse thing is a bit of a one-trick-Ponyta, since anyone who had seen it once would know to account for it the second time. But it's still a good trick, and it helped account for what everyone seemed to think is the weakness of Water-type moves; that they could be destroyed fairly easily.

Maybe if I want to garner more respect, I should come up with an official name for it. "Freeze it" sounds a bit lame, if I'm being honest. But that's precisely what Glaceon does, causing our opponent to scowl in irritation, as Night Slash connected with a solid chunk of ice rather than a ball of water, deflecting the attack instead of destroying it, and sending a ball of ice directly into the ground type's chest, impacting with considerable force.

Not enough to knock it out, unfortunately, since Sandslash's Night Slash took out some of the speed and power of the attack. But I think that it was at least equivalent to what Glaceon had taken from Rollout, even though it didn't look nearly as damaging.

"Use Rapid Spin!"

For the third time in this battle, the Ground-type Pokémon curls into a ball, starting to rotate at high speeds. This time is different though. Instead of rolling towards us, the sand mouse Pokémon spins in place like a top. What's our opponent up to?

"Now use Sand-Attack!" he orders. Sand-Attack is basically just flinging dirt and sand into your opposition's face, but when used in combination with Rapid Spin like this, it becomes almost like a fake Sandstorm, blasting grit every which direction, veiling Sandslash not through a total sand barrier, but because everyone needs to shield their eyes so they're not filled with sand.

"Cover your eyes with your head cap thingies!" I shout out, shielding my face with one arm, but getting a mouthful of sand for my troubles. "-Ack! Pfft!"

Glaceon gets the idea, at least, despite my poor phrasing, covering her eyes with the diamond shaped ends of her blue head cap. Finally, the Sand-Attack dies down, and we both uncover our eyes to try and see what Sandslash had used the opening it had created for, only to see a perfectly round hole in the ground.

Glaceon makes a confused noise, but I immediately know what's going on. "Sandslash just used Dig, Glaceon. See that hole? It went underground. It has to make another one to come up and attack. Charge up a Water Pulse and fire it right into the hole when it starts to appear; the ground will start to shake and fall away, probably right underneath or behind you."

I elaborate as much as I can, having the advantage, since my opponent couldn't issue any orders while his Pokémon was underground, and Sandslash, even though it was a strong digger, being a Ground-type Pokémon, still needed to get through all that dirt and stone underground to attack. Dig was probably better suited as an escape, or a repositioning tool than an attack, now that I think about it. Any half-decent trainer should be able to come up with something to counter it. And if you were allowed to substitute, it would be very easy to switch to a Flying-type Pokémon or a levitator and be immune to the attack while the enemy was stuck underground.

As predicted, Sandslash does try and strike my Pokémon right from beneath her. Glaceon almost slips and falls when the hole starts to form underneath her, but sensing the suddenly unstable surface, she jumps into the air and sends the Water Pulse she had been building up straight into the newly appeared hole in one fluid motion.

There's a pause, then an explosion like a landmine, as the pulsating water floods from the confined space, sending Sandslash flying. When the pure ground-type crashes back to earth, it gets up woozily, teetering back and forth, several of the spikes on its back either cracked or totally broken off.

Water Pulse does supposedly have a chance to cause confusion, though it's never done this before. Maybe it has something to do with being hit in such a confined space?

I file that hypothesis away for the moment, observing our opponent. While Sandslash has not fainted, it's essentially on its last legs. It was a sitting Ducklett, too confused to take orders or defend itself from our next attack. One more Water Pulse or Icy Wind should be the end of this battle. Which begs the question, what was the purple haired trainer doing? Or more precisely, why wasn't he doing anything? He'd folded his arms upon seeing Sandslash's state and isn't making any move or speaking up to try and inspire it to break out of confusion. I mean, he could even just decide to forfeit, because Sandslash is in no position to continue to battle, and to prevent it from further injury.

I guess he really meant it when he said that the battle was over when he said so, which means he's probably not going to explain his actions to us, based on his attitude. It didn't make me feel good to finish off an opponent like this, but Glaceon is still dripping blood, and I needed to tend to her, and if that means I have to finish Sandslash off, then so be it.

Sorry mate. "Glaceon, finish this with one more Water Pulse attack."

The Water-type move explodes into a burst of water on its belly, and Sandslash is knocked back several more feet, tumbling until it finally comes to a halt, not making any move to try and get up.

"That's our win," I state, seeing if our opponent would try and contradict us in any way. All I hear from him is a "pathetic" mutter under his breath. Somehow, I don't think it's directed at us.

I kneel down by Glaceon's side, wetting a cloth from my bag with a bottle of water and wiping all the sand and dirt away from the slashes on her back before I use a potion to heal up the two cuts. The miracle medicine closes the cuts without any scars, but a trip to the Pokémon center shouldn't throw off our pace too much, and besides, she needs a bath to get the blood and sand out of her fur. I scratch her behind the head, right above the scruff of the neck, causing her to preen, proud of another victory.

"You were fantastic," I murmur. "And I got an idea for Ice Shard from that battle." That gets a sharp look from my Pokémon. Maybe the invisible moisture in the air is too hard to manipulate right now, just like Sandslash couldn't make a proper sandstorm. But we can find something to approximate it and build up to that point. "Next time it rains, we'll try and freeze those drops and work with those, alright?"

Glaceon waits just a split second before she presses her head into my palm happily. I enjoy the feeling for a few seconds before recalling my ace to her Pokéball, for a well-earned rest, as it feels like a Mankey was just lifted off my back because I haven't totally fucked up my relationships with my Pokémon.

We definitely hit a rough patch, and we might hit some more, but I can work through them. I'm starting to realize that Pokémon aren't the only ones that need training. So do their trainers, and if they're so determined to get stronger for me, then I'll give everything I have to be the best trainer I can for them.

With my spirits lifted, I look to my opposite only to see the mystery trainer is taking a completely different approach. Lucas holds up a few hundred dollars that must be my prize money, but he didn't offer any congratulations or praise for either me or my Pokémon. His Pokémon at this point is revived, and its trainer uses a potion on it before recalling it to the Pokéball. Immediately, he throws it back out, with a blunt "Get lost." Sandslash is released in a blue light instead of a red one, and after one quick look at its now former trainer, it departs straightaway, using its preferred method of travel: rolling.

He really just released it, right after it lost. I can't say I've ever seen that before. I mean, for fucks sake, Jessie and James treat their Pokémon better than that. Way, way better, and they lose all the time! The purple-haired trainer starts walking away, but he halts when I shout a question at him.

"Why'd you release Sandslash?"

He turns back around, to face us as he speaks. "The only reason I lost was because my Pokémon was weak. I don't need weak Pokémon on my team."

"Sandslash had a poor matchup in this battle, but it will have the advantage against the Oreburgh gym. Why not wait until then to make your decision?" Ursula asks him.

"I'm not concerned with one measly gym badge," he answers rudely. "I'm looking for Pokémon with real potential, that can compete against the best Sinnoh has to offer. Sandslash wasn't one of those Pokémon, and he never will be. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go look for a Water-type. Hopefully, it will be worth keeping." With that, he leaves in the direction of Oreburgh.

I hope Lucas isn't too sensitive about that guy catching and releasing Pokémon like they were nothing, when he had so much trouble just catching one in the first place, but he just sighs heavily when I ask him if that was normal.

"I don't know how it's like where you're from, Luna, but I suspect it's somewhat similar. Pokémon battling, especially at the top end, is really serious business. The smallest of margins can make all the difference, and some trainers take that to heart, trying to only capture the absolute best Pokémon, and if that means catching a bunch of them to determine which is the best, then they'll do just that. It's not my place to say whether it's right or wrong, but I do know that most of the strongest trainers: gym leaders, frontier brains, the Elite Four and Cynthia herself don't agree with that style of training."

"But what made him keep that Sandslash in the first place, if he had such a low opinion of it?" Ursula thinks aloud.

"Like I said, these trainers are looking for Pokémon that stand out from the pack. I'd guess that he was looking for a Pokémon that was strong against Rock-types, and kept Sandslash because it could use Night Slash, which most ordinary Sandslash can't learn. But once he battled with it…" he trails off uselessly.

I don't think that I could have too much righteous anger about releasing a Pokémon if it's not up to your standards. Sandslash probably would be better off as a wild Pokémon or caught by someone else rather than chained to a trainer that didn't believe in it.

And to tell the truth, am I really any different? I mean, I doubt I would ever bother catching and training something like a Sentret or a Weedle for my team, because I would always assume that they had mediocre potential. These things didn't matter when Pokémon were emotionless pixels on a screen. It was just natural to replace a weaker Pokémon for a stronger one. Who cared about the Pidgeot you had caught on the very first route as a Pidgey when there was a legendary bird just waiting to become your Flying-type instead? But in this world, where they were living, breathing creatures that I had grown close to… I don't think I could go back to the numbers crunching method, where I evaluated every single thing about a Pokémon before choosing to use it. But at the same time, I couldn't condemn somebody for sticking to that approach. I understand exactly why they make that choice.

Sigh. One gym in, and I'm already having a minor moral crisis. At least I know one thing.

"You two are pretty lucky, if you ask me. Another week, and you could have been stuck following that guy!"