Our journey towards Oreburgh started with me fulfilling my half of the agreement I had made with Ursula.

Of course, she wasn't exactly making this easy.

"Surskit, use Bubblebeam!" The coordinator calls for the… I don't even know at this point. I lost count thirty minutes ago.

And just like every other time this morning, when Ursula tries to have Surskit freeze the bubbles in midair, the attempt fails miserably. Glaceon, freshly healed courtesy of the Pokémon Center, wriggles in my lap from where I had been scratching all her favorite spots to face me, as if to ask when I was going to intervene. Trust me, Glaceon, I want to. The only problem was, even having known the girl for less than a day, I could tell Ursula had a massive ego. I'm talking about one the size of a Snorlax blocking the entire road, so you have to waste all this time going through a pitch-black cave full of annoying wild Zubat, that all spam Supersonic and Confuse Ray-"

Sorry. Some things still irritate me to this day.

I'm not sure what I would classify her as. Introvert seems wrong, since the whole point of being a coordinator was to show off with your Pokémon. Maybe she has some intense fixation on being independent, or perhaps a case of Lone-Wolf syndrome? Whatever it was, it meant that Ursula was not going to come ask me for more help. Glaceon and I gave her and Surskit precisely one demonstration and then they did not spare us a further glance as they continued to try and fail to replicate our frozen Water Pulse attack. One must admire the sheer confidence she has in herself and her Pokémon, but this was reaching the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over with the exact same result.

Glaceon jumps off my lap as I stand up from the viewing bench present on the battlefield and we both stretch our entire bodies. Ursula looks over at the sudden motion, but she returns to her 'practice' when I don't make any effort to speak. I'm just stalling while I plan how I should approach this, considering that the coordinator girl doesn't exactly seem receptive to constructive criticism.

"Again! Bubblebeam and freeze the bubbles!"

"Icy Wind on the Bubblebeam, Glaceon."

This time, when the water skater sends out its Water-type attack, Glaceon freezes them all within the Ice-type attack. For a second, they all stay suspended in midair, before each one drops to the ground, shattering into thin ice pieces that rapidly melt away in the morning sun.

I gesture to the remains of the attack. "That is more of what you're capable of."

Ursula glares at me, not happy with my assessment. "Oh? And how exactly did you arrive at this conclusion?"

I put one finger on my chin, pretending to think for a second. "Maybe it's like I said before; Surskit isn't an Ice-type and has no natural ability to manipulate ice. What it can do, is learn an Ice-Type move, and freeze the bubbles that way. I'm pretty sure Surskit can pick up Icy Wind, so that's what you should focus on learning."

For a second, I think she is going to ignore my advice and return to her pointless attempts to recreate our frozen Water Pulse, but she huffs angrily instead and looks anywhere but at me. Before she can resume practicing again, however, I inform Ursula that she and Surskit can work on their move while we are on the road.

I turn around to retrieve my bag from where I left it leaning up against the wall of the Pokémon Center when I hear Ursula's posh accent call out.

"One moment, please?"

When I reverse directions to face her. The curly haired coordinator has a determined scowl on her face. "I don't need handouts." She growls. "Consider this equal compensation for your… coaching."

This girl absolutely could not stand being given free advice. Maybe it's a side effect of being rich? You know, not wanting to act like you need anything from someone else?

Glaceon and I exchange glances when Ursula calls for another Bubblebeam. What possibly could this Bubblebeam, Water Sport, Quick Attack knowing Surskit be able to teach us?

This time, the water skater doesn't fire off a stream of bubbles, but instead creates one right in front of its face, like it had been chewing bubble gum. My eyebrows raise further and further onto my forehead as the bubble gets larger and larger, bigger than Surskit itself, then even bigger than Glaceon before it is released towards us before finally exploding with a pop.

Ursula has a very smug look on her face. "That is what occurs if you are to withhold your attack and increase the power of it first. Water-type moves are among the easiest to mold into larger forms."

Well, that is something interesting that I had never considered. I always figured that a move would grow stronger as a Pokémon grew stronger or evolved. But charging up to increase the power was something worth looking into. "It must take a lot of concentration, though, to have it not blow up in your face." I muse aloud, which somehow makes Ursula's smirk even more obnoxious.

"Of course," she drawls. "Which is why Surskit and I are obviously exceptional."

I roll my eyes at the shameless brag. Add 'ridiculously full of herself' to the list of Ursula's personality traits. Though it wasn't like this was unanticipated, judging by how casually the twirly haired coordinator flaunted her expensive outfit. Thankfully, she had swapped out her heeled sandals for a pair of still fashionable, yet sturdy looking outdoors boots.

We meet Lucas in the Pokémon center lobby, where he is watching the Jubilife news channel, with its very recognizable orange haired, yellow dress anchor. Most of what they were showing was whatever, like telling me it was snowing in Snowpoint City. Wow, I never would have guessed. The next segment was the battle section, which announced that Lucian of the Elite Four was currently rated as the second strongest trainer in Sinnoh and would therefore get a match against the blonde for the title of Champion. I scoff out loud. Cynthia was untouchable, as far as I was concerned. This was just an exhibition match for some TV revenue.

Lucas gives me a betrayed expression. "His Bronzong was this close," he holds his fingers less than an inch apart, "to beating Garchomp last time! I hear he also came back from the desert with a crazy-powerful Pokémon, a Flying-type that knows all sorts of moves."

"It still lost, even with the type-advantage." I snark back, not convinced at all. Bronzong matches up against Garchomp as well as any Pokémon this side of Togekiss, with its great defensive capabilities, resistance to Dragon and immunity to Ground. It's supposed to win, not just do well. And it doesn't. Lucian's new desert Pokémon sounded like a Sigilyph to me, which might help some, considering it can use moves like Ice Beam. But there still was one glaring problem. "Until he can manage to get around Spiritomb, all their matches are going to end the same way." If only Lucian had evolved his Kirlia into a Gardevoir instead of a Gallade. Then maybe his strongest Pokémon could be used optimally.

Realizing that my logic is as infallible as Spiritomb's immunities to Psychic and Fighting, Lucas doesn't do much more than grumble that he was still going to watch and root for Lucian to win, though he refuses to wager a hundred bucks on Lucian beating Cynthia and taking the title of Champion.

The hostess smoothly transitions from the battle news to contest news, announcing from a backdrop of curtains and ribbons, all of which were grayed out except the first, a blue and white ribbon, declaring the next major contest in the Sinnoh Circuit would be held in Floaroma town, in a month's time.

I give a sideways glance at Ursula, who doesn't look all that surprised. "Is that where you were planning on going next?"

She nods slightly. "Yes, but the locations for the big six contests usually remain the same. Usually, I would arrive several weeks early to prepare, but…"

The pink-haired coordinator trails off, giving me a sharp look that screams 'this better be worth it'. As if this would be my fault. She was the one who was so adamant on learning our move.

I grimace when the news breaks for commercials, since the first one is advertising the trainers' school. "If everyone is ready, we should hit the road", I mutter sullenly, ignoring the muttered laughter and snickers from my companions, as they no doubt remember my miserable day as a schoolgirl.

We are stopped at the gate building that serves as the official western end of Route 203, and the gate guard on duty, a smartly dressed woman, appraises the three of us. "Pokémon all healed up? Do you have enough restoratives and food to make it all the way to Oreburgh?" She questions.

Lucas answers yes to all her inquiries as I turn my attention to the sleek gray and black hound Pokémon sitting attentively next to her, clearly enjoying its master stroking its black mane, but managing to remain professional regardless. I pull out my Pokédex and scan it, turning down the volume a bit.

"Mightyena, the Bite Pokémon, and the evolved form of Poochyena." The Pokédex beeps out. "Mightyenas travel and act as a pack in the wild. The memory of its life in the wild compels this Pokémon to completely obey those trainers that it recognizes to possess superior skill."

Huh. That was a far cry from what I was expecting. I had always thought of Mightyena as the bread and butter of Team Magma and Team Aqua, a Pokémon picked because it liked violence, cause those guys are not exactly what I would classify as skilled trainers.

"What's the matter over there, you've never seen a Mightyena before?" The guard asks me, apparently still having overheard.

"No, I just didn't expect to see one working here." That causes the guard to frown and the Dark-type to give a throaty growl, as if warning me to pick my next words carefully. "It's quite the-" malicious, nasty, and savage come to mind, but somehow, I don't think those would go over well. "Menacing Pokémon," I eventually settle on. It was significantly more intimidating than what I was used to in Unova, where seemingly every security guard and police officer used something in the Lillipup line, which were some of the most friendly and obedient Pokémon around.

That does bring a pleased expression to both trainer and her Pokémon. The guard pulls some food pellets from her pocket, tossing them up for the hyena to snatch up out of the air, giving it a chance to show off its gleaming white canines.

"Well, you're not wrong about that. But you don't have to worry about anything. I've raised Mightyena here since he was just a pooch, and I couldn't ask for a better, more loyal partner." She winks at us. "Don't let anyone tell you what kind of Pokémon you should or shouldn't raise. They're all worth partnering with, in their own ways."

"Anyways, you guys look better prepared than the average trainer who comes this way, so you three should be fine. Just remember, there's no shame in coming back here if your Pokémon are badly hurt." The guard continues.

"Is there anything specific we should be concerned about?" Ursula questions, looking a bit perturbed.

The guard shrugs but answers the question. "Not much, other than the usual stuff like a hive of Beedrill, and a bunch of eager to battle trainers. I did hear some rumors of a very powerful Ursaring out there. I wouldn't be too worried, since they're only rumors. But it never hurts to know these things, right?"

"We'll keep that in mind, ma'am. Thanks for all your advice!" We wave goodbye to the friendly guard and her Pokémon, taking our first steps onto Route 203.

Not even five minutes onto the trail Ursula turns around and questions us. "Ursaring?" She keeps glancing behind us, as if we somehow wouldn't notice a giant grizzly bear of a Pokémon.

Lucas shakes his head. "They're fearsome and powerful, but they won't attack outright unless you disturb them by stealing their food or try to catch their young. We shouldn't have any issues if we stick to the trail." Ursula still looks somewhat nervous, which begs the question of how she planned to travel to all these contests. Did she just take an air taxi? It was certainly faster, and she probably could afford it, but I preferred my feet on the ground, after my terrifying flying experience.

We make fairly good progress for about an hour. Lucas manages to contain himself when we pass over a stream that a family of Bidoof and Bibarel chose to dam and make their home in, or when we see a couple of Hoothoot sleeping in a tree on one leg. He brushes off my questioning looks, mumbling something about them evolving in the same way as Chimchar. But that excuse is worthless when we come across a Weepinbell that is at the bottom of a tree rather than hooked on a branch.

"Chimchar, come on out and attack with Ember!" he shouts, releasing his Pokémon.

I pull Ursula a safe distance away, but one where we could still observe. "Sit back and enjoy," I murmur, ignoring her confused look.

"Chimchar! Chiiiimmm, Chaaaaar!" The fire monkey first agrees, then let's loose a barrage of embers at the Flycatcher Pokémon. The Grass-type already looks a bit dazed from falling off a tree. It gives off a loud screech, though not nearly as high-pitched (heh) as its evolution, and retaliates by sending several razor-sharp leaves at Chimchar, though the Fire-type nimbly dodges all of them.

"Yes! Use Ember again Chimchar!" Lucas's starter uses the Fire-type move again, and now Weepinbell is looking wary, and rather beaten down from the repeated super-effective assaults.

"Go Pokéball!" Lucas chucks the standard ball at the Grass/Poison-type, clenching his hands nervously. I'm not that excited. Even if he does connect, actually catching the thing will be a minor miracle at this point.

In the end, the Pokéball does connect. Just… not where it was supposed to. Instead of connecting on the wild Pokémon's yellow bell-shaped body, the Pokéball flies straight into its circular mouth. I watch on in fascination. Can you catch a Pokémon from the inside?

Of course not. After a couple of seconds, the pitcher plant spits out the remains of the Pokéball, partially dissolved and still smoking from Weepingbell's stomach acid. Well, that pretty much confirms that there's no way I'm getting one of these. I'm not risking its much larger and even more carnivorous evolution taking a liking to me and trying to chomp on my head every time it was sent out.

"Typical," Lucas mutters in frustration. "Ember again!" For the third time, Chimchar spits out fiery coals, but Weepinbell has wisened up, countering with an acidic spray, which explodes into foul-smelling smoke upon meeting the Fire-type attack.

"Chimchar, get back!" Don't breathe that smoke in!" Unfortunately for the intern, that's all the opening the wild Pokémon needed to escape. I see two vines lash out onto the nearest branch, and a few seconds later the Pokémon itself is swinging away in a manner that would have made Tarzan proud.

I'm snickering openly, though Ursula tries to maintain a measure of decorum by hiding her mouth behind her hand, but it's painfully obvious that she finds this as amusing as I do.

"Chimchar, thanks for your help, as always." He says, recalling his starter before continuing down the route as if nothing had happened. I do manage to hear a "Now there are two of them," under his breath, as we try to stifle our laughter while jogging to catch up.

Not even thirty minutes later, we get jumped. Not by an Ursaring, thankfully, but by what appears to be this world's equivalent of a boy scout. The kid is wearing green shorts, a green shirt, and a green hat, and even has a sash with all sorts of badges pinned on there. He points at us dramatically. "If you're a trainer, then you'll accept a challenge, anytime, anyplace! Because that's what trainers do!" He throws out a Pokéball, revealing a rather ordinary looking duck, which matches its trainer's pose, miming the finger point with its green and white plant stalk.

I smirk in reply. I'm not sure what's more far-fetched; his Pokémon, or his line of thinking that this thing was going to be able to beat me. "You're on, kid."

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

It seemed that the gate guard was right in that there are plenty of trainers, most of them also going to challenge for their first gym badge, on this route. They certainly weren't short of confidence, and I'd even say that many of them were borderline arrogant. I took several challenges over our next few days of travel. I'm still using Charmander as my primary battling Pokémon for now, and for the most part, he can handle most of these trainers, though I still needed to call on Glaceon to beat a boy with a Buizel and a girl with a Phanpy.

I have been guilty of only training up one Pokémon per game; my Pokémon Silver team was a level eighty Typhlosion, a Lugia, and a bunch of Pokémon that I had caught in Victory Road, which served no other purpose other than to be thrown out to buy time for me to revive Typhlosion when it inevitably fainted against Lance's totally fire-resistant team. Not for the first time, I wished that I could see what level each of my Pokémon were at, so I could have some sort of gauge to how strong my Pokémon were. In theory, it would help with knowing how close they were to evolving as well, although Ash somehow seemed to make it through every region with a bunch of unevolved Pokémon. But that might just be a bias for the likes of Bulbasaur and Squirtle in order to sell more merchandise.

Lucas, obviously taking yet another failure to catch a Pokémon well, joined in on the action, having Chimchar send another three trainers and their Pokémon packing over the past few days. All this battling helped our Pokémon pick up some new moves; Smokescreen and Metal Claw for Charmander, and Fury Swipes and Fire Spin for Chimchar. On the flip side, Ursula didn't show a single inclination to participate in any battles; her hand didn't even so much as twitch for a second to her bag to reach for a Pokéball. This didn't go unnoticed by either of us and was a bit of a concern for Lucas and me. It's not that we needed her to battle at all, although it would be nice to know if we could count on her to assist us if we were attacked by a Beedrill or something, that wasn't the main issue. It was more about how she treated her Pokémon; especially Gible.

It's hard to say someone was treating a Pokémon too well, but I think that statement would apply here. Gible doesn't battle, or even participate in any spars. All it does is rest, eat, and get fussed over by its coordinator of a trainer. Lucas's issue is all scientifically based and such; about how Dragon-type Pokémon need to be challenged, or they're never going to grow. I'm appalled because I'm jealous. I cannot believe this girl has been blessed with a baby Garchomp, that's figuratively oozing with potential power, and letting all of it just go down the drain. Even if it's a contest Pokémon, not a proper battling one, it would be a damn shame if this nonstop coddling continued. We decide to give it a few days, so it doesn't seem like we are picking on her right off the bat, but we finally get our chance to educate Ursula during a late afternoon lunch.

We set out the food for our Pokémon first. Gible is by far the most voracious eater; the first time they witnessed it eating, Chimchar and Charmander paused in awe, letting food drop from their hands back to their respective bowls. This time, the landshark devours its lunch, poffin included in three monstrous mouthfuls, and then waddles off to soak up some afternoon sunshine while taking a siesta in a very reptilian way.

Surskit doesn't exactly have a mouth, just a long tube thing for a tongue that it can drink the honey Ursula sets out for it. Both Surskit and Glaceon, with her berry and Pokémon food mix, finish at the same time, as they move a respectable distance away to practice Icy Wind and a charged Water Pulse, respectively.

We recall Chimchar and Charmander once they had finished eating to give them some rest before we hit the road again. That left the three of us to have a very uncomfortable conversation. Lucas and I engage in a staring match to see who was going to broach the subject with her, one that I easily win. The lab assistant clears his throat awkwardly. "Ursula, is there any reason that you don't want to battle with your Pokémon at all?"

The teenage coordinator looks absolutely affronted at the notion. "And why would I participate in such a boorish activity? I could not possibly let my precious Pokémon get injured!"

I wonder if boor comes from the word boar. Like a person who acts like a pig? Whatever the case, I didn't appreciate the comparison, though I could at least sympathize with someone not wanting their Pokémon to get hurt. I add my opinion to the conversation. "That's true, but the Pokémon Centers and even potions and berries heal them right up, like nothing had even happened."

She thrusts a triumphant finger at Glaceon in the distance. "Even so, the appearance of a Pokémon is the most important aspect during the judging process of a contest. I cannot risk one of my Pokémon becoming permanently disfigured because it received a grievous injury from a battle, such as when your Glaceon got cut by that Kricketune," she finishes with an upturned nose.

I didn't see any scarring or anything on Glaceon after her trip to the Pokémon center, thank you very much. And 'grievous injury' was a bit much as well; the way she said it, you would have though Glaceon had been brought back from the brink of death. She had been perfectly fine to go another round with that Minccino. I also would've assumed that the most important thing in a contest was the 'bond between a trainer and a Pokémon', or some other sappiness, but what did I know about contests? All my questions about them would have to wait, since Lucas was trying a different tactic.

The teenager from Twinleaf can be rather blunt when he chooses, like when he lectures me about rules and regulations. But he speaks to Ursula very gently. "Listen, we just want the best for your Pokémon. And Gible isn't growing at all right now."

He elaborates at her horrified expression. "Dragon-type Pokémon,'' he begins, with a gesture in Gible's direction, "need adversity to evolve. The most famous clan of Dragon specialists hail from Blackthorn City, which is built into the face of a mountain cliff. An inhospitable environment, and one right next to a cave full of powerful Ice-types, which have the natural advantage over Dragons. They purposely go train in the cave and live in that environment because it's so difficult, because Dragons need that. Gible needs that. I think you would be surprised on how much it could accomplish if you challenged it some."

Failures to catch a Pokémon aside, let no one say that Lucas didn't take his job as Rowan's assistant seriously. Ursula has stiffened like a board, biting down on her bottom lip. The assistant's word carries a ton of weight. It's not every day that someone handpicked by the most respected Pokémon researcher in the whole region tells you that you are raising your Pokémon totally wrong. Still, she manages to show a hint of defiance in her answer. "Perhaps… you have a point. I shall consider it."

I suppose that's the best we could hope for. But I still have questions about contests that I need some answers for. "Can you explain this whole contest circuit to me? I don't really get it, not being from Sinnoh and all."

That conversation changer was about as subtle as a Steelix trying to sneak up on you, but it didn't matter at all, since two of Ursula's absolute favorite things in the world were talking about herself and educating the ignorant. Combine that with her chosen profession, and she could out chatter a Chatot. As usual, she started off with a barb. "Contests, the true expression of a Pokémon's connection with their master, are extremely popular in Sinnoh, you know. They are almost as old and respected as a tradition here as they are in Hoenn, where the Pokémon Contests originated."

I mean sure, Ruby and Sapphire did come out before Diamond and Pearl. Technically speaking, Pokémon Contests were in Hoenn before they were in Sinnoh.

The coordinator continues with a starry look in her eyes. "As such, every proper settlement in Sinnoh, from remote villages to Jubilife City, has its own Pokémon Contest that you can look for glory in."

That was certainly something intriguing. "Every single one?" Maybe I should reconsider my policy on not entering any contests. It would be a decent way to get acclimated to having to go in front of a live audience, since there was no way one of these small-town contests would be any bigger than, say, a high school sporting event.

Ursula shakes her head, sending her curly twin tails bouncing. "Every city without a Pokémon Gym." She corrects me. "And not all contests are equal. There are certain contests that have far more prestige and rewards than the run-of-the-mill contests that occur in the smaller towns and villages across the region. We call these the Big Six."

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

I'm pretty sure I've heard that being mentioned before, though I can't place the location, or remember even what that phrase meant. Seeing my befuddled expression, Lucas chimes in with an answer. "That's what everyone calls the major contest circuit in Sinnoh. They hold these in all the largest towns in Sinnoh that aren't part of the Gym Circuit, in order to maximize revenue and encourage tourism. He starts ticking them off on his fingers. "Jubilife has one, as do Floaroma Town, Solaceon Town, and Celestic Town."

I give him a deadpan look. "That's only four."

"Hearthome City also hosts one, despite having a Pokémon gym," Ursula says. "It is only natural; Hearthome is by far the most cultured city in all of Sinnoh, and should always have a contest, regardless of the new gym being placed there."

"And the last?"

"Usually that one they have rotating between some of the other main cities." The lab assistant answers. "They like to try and keep them in central locations, so a lot of people can attend, so it's never in Sunyshore, Canalave or Snowpoint…" He trails off. "Where was it again this year?"

"Pastoria." the pink-haired teenager replies confidently. "It is fitting, because this year Sinnoh will be hosting the Wallace Cup, and we must pay homage to such a graceful Water-type master and coordinator." She says this looking away, but I'm pretty sure we both notice a very dark blush on her normally pale cheeks.

I choose not to comment on it though. "Isn't Wallace a gym leader though?"

That ignorant statement has Ursula looking extremely affronted. "Perhaps that is how you would know him, but he is a coordinator first and foremost, and an absolute genius of the craft."

Well, he did have a Milotic after all, and I never bothered getting one since you had to do something with contests to evolve your Feebas. Wallace must be good if he got the masses to appreciate that ugly fish of a Pokémon.

"So, if they're so important, what's the reward for winning them?" I inquire.

"There is an end-of-season competition, known as the Grand Festival. Normally", Ursula begins, "you must have acquired five ribbons from victories in contests to gain entry. But winning even one of the largest six contests automatically qualifies you for the Grand Festival, into the final sixty-four, when there are usually over a hundred contestants, and almost half of them are eliminated in the preliminaries. If someone wins multiple times, then having high placements can also qualify you for the main stage."

I whistle lowly. Because being put straight into the main stage of the final competition was an impressive reward. But also because of something else. "I can't believe there are over five-hundred settlements in Sinnoh that hold contests. And is that why you were in Jubilife?"

A very nasty countenance flashes over her face, but it quickly clears when she sees my startled expression. I can still hear some anger in her voice when she speaks though. "There aren't five-hundred settlements in Sinnoh." Before I can explain to her how basic mathematics worked, the coordinator is already answering my second question. "But yes, I was a participant in the Jubilife contest."

Just a participant? "Did you win?"

"No." Ursula says shortly.

"Runner-up?" Lucas asks kindly.

"No." She mutters again.

"Semifinals?"

"No."

"Quarterfinals?"

"No."

"There's no shame in getting to the last sixteen in a Big Six contest, you know," Lucas tries.

"I wasn't part of the last sixteen."

Getting answers from her is like rolling a Golem up Mt. Coronet. If we keep going like this, I'm going to be in the hundreds! Guess it's time to stop beating around the bush and ask her directly. "Then how high exactly did you end up placing?"

The pink-haired girl mutters something so softly that I can hardly hear it. I probably shouldn't poke the Beartic, but this whole conversation is making me too curious not to. "What was that? I didn't catch it."

"Fine," she grumbles darkly. "I wasn't given a placement, because I didn't actually make it out of the appeals round." She clenches a fist in righteous anger. "But it was a robbery! I deserved to have made it through. Those... those buffoons masquerading as judges! All of them need to have their vision checked, because they have no eye for true talent."

Someone seems a bit salty. "And have you actually won any contests before?"

Ursula sniffs haughtily. "Just what do you take me for?" She reaches into her purse for a glittering black case, unveiling one unimpressive, lonely ribbon inside.

Lucas doesn't look any more impressed than I do; so not at all. "Where did you win that ribbon?"

"Greengrass Town." is the defensive answer.

"Greengrass Town? You mean that tiny island village north of Canalave?" Lucas says incredulously.

"And? A win is a win. One more victory than either of you two have, I might add, considering neither of you have earned any Gym badges, or caught any Pokémon." Yet, I mentally tack on to her statement.

But maybe I had misjudged Ursula. The picture was becoming painfully obvious, that despite all her bluster and boasting, she was not even close to being an expert coordinator. It did take some level of humility to admit that you needed some assistance, even if she couldn't manage to say it to our faces. We'll see if hanging around with Lucas and me brings her the results that she so desperately desires.

My mind wanders away from the conversation, as the lab intern tries to explain why he doesn't go after every Pokémon he sees, and that he would have caught something by now if he did. I content myself by just taking in the surroundings. Just from here, I can see a massive tree, with several Pineco and Seedot hanging in harmony from its thick branches. There are chirping sounds coming from a hole bored in the bark of its trunk, and a Raticate is slowly climbing its way up towards it, using its massive front teeth as an additional tool to grip onto the grooves in the wood. Just when it was a matter of feet away from the hole, I hear a loud noise, like a trumpet blaring. Seconds later, a medium-sized bird comes shooting out of the sky, firing a machine gun-like volley of seeds at the offending Normal-type, driving it away. The Rat Pokémon scurries away back to its lair, somewhat near where Glaceon and Surskit are practicing. My Pokémon has gotten quite good at this charged Water Pulse. She can control and launch one the size of a basketball now, and it's providing a significant damage boost, as I watch it take out a chunk of a nearby boulder.

All in all, it's another gorgeous day in the Pokémon world. The sun is shining through all the leaves in the forest, creating a dappled effect with intermingled sunshine and shade, there is the slightest of breezes ruffling all the leaves and flowers. Looking to my left I can see in the distance the sun glinting off what looks like a decent-sized lake, as well as a zigzag of perfectly round holes leading up to our campsite that did not look suspicious in the least…

I shake my head out of the daze it was in. Someone, or something, was trying to sneak up on us! My first thought would be Diglett, considering it's notorious for chewing up the earth and popping up occasionally. And, because whatever was making these holes wasn't all that large, judging by the size of them, and clearly was not a fan of sunlight, since everyone was in a shaded area, an underground Pokémon would make perfect sense. But when Digletts chew up the ground, they really chew it up. The whole area would look like a massive tractor came through and overturned all the earth to prepare the soil for crop planting. I have a suspicion that whatever was doing this likely didn't even know the move Dig, or wasn't even a Ground-type, or it wouldn't have to go through all this trouble.

So that begs the question: what was doing this? I pick myself off the ground to go investigate, inspecting the closest hole to our campsite. Each whole was relatively shallow, only the length of my hand deep, and about the volume of a large orange or a small grapefruit. Not a very big Pokémon then. I'm not exactly Sherlock Holmes or anything, but I didn't need to be employed as a detective at Scotland Yard to solve this mystery. It hadn't seemed out of place from a distance, but there was a clump of five leaves in a shady patch of ground trying to look as inconspicuous as possible and failing miserably.

When I squat down next to it, its green leaves quiver, and not because of the wind. I pound the ground next to it a few times with a closed fist. "I know you're down there. You can stop hiding now."

The plant doesn't budge at all. I watch my Pokétch for a couple of minutes before I start to get irritated and decide to take more decisive action.

Alright, whatever you are. I asked nicely. Now you're getting exposed whether you like it or not! I grab onto the base of its leaves, and with an almighty pull, evict the plant from its earthy hiding place. I barely have time to register a dark blue body with beady red eyes before the Pokémon screams like a banshee and rubs its leaves together, releasing a mustard yellow powder. I drop the Oddish like it was a live grenade, but I still get a mouthful of the Stun Spore.

Oddish falls on its bottom, while I wheeze and cough as I stumble backward. All the commotion and noise bring everyone over. Glaceon is the first to bound to my side, staring down threateningly at the Grass-type.

Lucas is a lot less supportive. "Did you seriously just yank it out of the ground? Didn't you know that Oddish don't like it when you do that to them?"

Well, now I do. I try to point at Oddish with my dominant hand, but my whole arm feels like I slept on it for eight hours. All I can do is flop it in the direction of the Grass-type like a noodle. Come to think of it, my whole leg feels the same way, and my foot feels like it has turned into a fleshy, fuzzy club. I might just fall over if I tried to take a few steps, with how dead it is. "It was trying to sneak up on us! Weren't you?" I direct to the Weed Pokémon, who vehemently shakes its whole body horizontally in the universal notion for no, though its expression still looks like it was guilty of just that.

Having noticed my useless limbs, Lucas digs through his pack for a bright red Cheri berry, passing it over to me. I pop it straight into my mouth, and even though it burns my tongue with how spicy it was, I swallow it straight away.

His eyes widen like saucers upon seeing me chomp down on the famously spicy berry. "Can you not feel it at all?" The intern says, gesturing to my mouth.

"Oh, it's hot," I respond, miming with my good hand as if I was drinking water. Ursula hands a bottle to me wordlessly, and after taking a massive swig of water and swishing it around to help cool down my mouth, I'm slowly starting to feel sensations coming back to my arm and leg. "Alright, Oddish. Tell us the truth. Were you trying to get some food from us?"

This time, the Grass and Poison-type nods slowly, with a very hand in the cookie jar look on its face. I do start to feel some sympathy for it. Oddish is kind of cute, in a very simplistic sort of way. I mean, it's just a blue turnip with feet and a face, but it has some appeal. Grass-types should be able to subside on sunlight and nutrients from the soil, though I can't exactly comment on how good dirt and light taste, having never consumed them personally.

"I'm not sure you can have curry, Oddish." I apologize, as the blue beetroot's face falls. "But I do have something you can eat," a statement that immediately turns it hopeful. Who knew a root vegetable could have such a range of facial expressions and emotions? I pull out two slightly squashed Poffin from the pouch I have been keeping them in and offer the first to the Grass-Type. "It's made from berries," I say, parroting Ursula's words from earlier. Speaking of the coordinator, why hasn't she spoken up about me wasting her signature treats on a wild Pokémon? I give her a quizzical look, but she merely raises an eyebrow and remains silent. How strange.

Oddish nudges the treat once with its body and then gobbles it whole. The plant's face lights up in pleasure, and it jumps up and down. "Oddish! Odd!" It cheers, causing us all to smile, as I hand over the second one, which it holds in its mouth as I pat it on the head. "No hard feelings, eh? Enjoy!"

The turnip trots off with its treat in mouth, looking back at me several times, before it finally disappears into the underbrush.

With all the excitement over, we all pack in preparation for the road. As curious as I thought Ursula was behaving, Lucas's actions are even more odd. One would think that he would jump all over the opportunity to catch that Oddish, considering how it evolves, but peculiarly enough, he didn't bother. I know it's not for a lack of Pokéballs either. And the cherry on top is, they are looking at me like I'm the one acting weird!

Am I missing something?

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

Two nights later, we make it to the entrance of the Oreburgh Gate, complete with a sign saying that it was only a day's travel from this location to the city the tunnel was named for. There was just one issue.

The self-appointed gatekeeper.

"If you wanna go through this tunnel, then you have to go through me!" a brunette girl in a schoolgirl uniform, complete with a red plaid skirt and knee-high black socks, said in a commanding voice that did not match her cutesy outfit. "I'm Madeline, the official trainer in charge of testing anyone who wants to challenge Roark!"

I wouldn't mind knocking this girl down from her high horse, but where did she get all this delusion from? Official tester for the Oreburgh Gym challenge? "And what exactly makes you qualified to do this?" I retort, gesturing at how she was standing right on the road going into the tunnel, blocking the path.

As if she was waiting for that exact question, in a clearly rehearsed motion the lass pulls a small brown and blue object from the pocket of her skirt to pose proudly. "This," she crows proudly, is "the official nifty-keen Gym Badge of the Oreburgh City Gym. Because I just beat Roark, and won it off him. And you don't have a badge. So that makes you a total nobody!" She sends out a Fletchling, who chirps loudly at us.

While Lucas moves into referee, I contemplate life as a gym leader. I don't think I could stand losing to people like this left and right. I mean, she went and used a bird against a gym that specializes in Rock-types. Seriously?

In the end, despite her subpar nicknaming skills, Madeline proves me dead wrong by turning out to be a very talented trainer, by far the best I had faced since my stalemate with the old bag at the trainer's school. One easily capable of winning a gym badge. Her Fletchling, Fletchy, revealed that it could use Steel Wing, along with the standard Wing Attack and Quick Attack, and proved to be a capable opponent, though Charmander managed to beat it by catching it with Metal Claw during one of its dive bombs.

Her second Pokémon was a Psyduck, and regardless of its perpetually confused expression, it managed to redirect Glaceon's Water Pulse several times with Confusion, until I finally resorted to spamming Quick Attack over and over until the Water-Type was too dizzy trying to keep up to dodge the final one that knocked it out.

"Awww mannnn!" Madeline pouts, persona changed as she recalls her Psyduck and stomps her foot in frustration. "I guess Sweety isn't gonna win against either of your Pokémon, since she's a Grass-type… Do you have anything else to battle with?

She looks surprised when I tell her I don't. "Really? I think you can beat the gym, but you need three Pokémon to challenge Roark, you know. There are some ponds in the tunnel where you can look for Water-types. That's where Ducky and I met!"

"Thanks for the advice." I say honestly, mulling the girl's words over in my head. Water-types are generally decent Pokémon, though I'm not yet sure if I want a Psyduck myself. Misty's had its shining moments, but it also almost cost her Togepi with its propensity to pop out of its ball at inopportune times. "And good luck on your gym challenge!"

Madeline gives me a toothy smile and replies in kind. "Yeah! Maybe we can battle again some time. I plan to work really hard with my Pokémon and collect lots of gym badges! Hope to see you around!

With that, the lass skips off happily in the opposite direction, leaving the tunnel entrance wide open for us to walk through. Oreburgh Gate isn't a daunting trek through a spooky cave. There are lights lining the ground of the tunnel for as far as we can see, keeping it well lit, but the ceiling is left pitch-black. If I squint with all my power, I can make out the shadows of a colony of Zubat hanging from the ceiling, fast asleep as it's daytime. I instantly start to walk faster; it wouldn't do to be caught here when the sun goes down, especially since Zubat were said to gain a taste for human blood once they evolved into Golbat. A couple of boulders lie adjacent to the walls. They are all misshapen and worn, and I can't tell from a distance if they are truly rocks or Geodude and Graveler, seeing as they had all buried their potential faces into the ground while they slept, and I didn't want to mess with them and find out.

Eventually, we arrive at one of the cave ponds that I assume Madeline found her Psyduck in. It's completely brown from constant rocks, sand and dirt from the tunnel mixing with the water, a stark contrast to the pristine lakes of Route 203 that we had walked past in the previous days. But for something as dimwitted as a Psyduck could be, I suppose it might not even notice the condition of the pond it lived in.

There's zero way to tell how deep this body of water is. "Do you think Psyduck can breathe underwater?" I ask rhetorically.

"Even if they could, I'm not sure anything could live in this pond. There's no vegetation here." Lucas looks up at the ceiling in contemplation. "Unless…

"Magikarp can live anywhere, can they not? Even in a filthy cave pond such as this one," Our resident coordinator adds.

Magikarp probably is a better candidate for sushi than it is for battling and while Gyarados was insanely strong, it was also exceptionally violent and temperamental, and happened to be twenty feet tall. Unless you were a Dragon Master like Lance, used to raising and dealing with powerful Pokémon like Dragonite and Aerodactyl, trying to tame a draconic sea serpent was unrealistic at best, and a death wish at worst. Still, I might as well see what is biting. I turn to ask Lucas to borrow his fishing rod, but he's facing the direction we came from, peering down the tunnel. "I think someone else has decided to follow you Luna," he laughs, pointing towards the ground several meters away from us.

This time, there is no greenery to disguise Oddish's leaves, though the turnip has still decided to try and bury itself amongst the rocks scattered over the floor of the tunnel. I roll my eyes before shouting. "Oddish we-" I recoil when I realize my Loudred impression is echoing like the Supersonic waves these Zubat use all over the walls of this cave. I lower my tone significantly and continue. "We know that you're there, you can stop hiding." The Grass and Poison-type pops out of its hole and trundles over to us, looking pleased. "It probably just followed us for some more treats," I mutter, stuffing my hands in all my pockets to try and find any poffins I had left, completely missing the exasperated expressions present on both my two companions. Ursula always insisted that they were far too delicate to create without a proper kitchen, so I didn't have any recently cooked poffins. But I was pretty sure that I had a couple left.

I pull out a few pieces of lint from my left pocket and an empty Pokéball from my right one, as the Oddish walks straight up to me, rocking back and forth on its stubby legs. "Hold on a second Oddish, I'm looking for them." I pat down the zippered side pockets of my tracksuit and feel something soft. Bingo.

"Aha!" I open up the pouch and find one pink poffin ripe for consumption. I hunch over to feed the walking plant. "This is all that I have left for you, Oddish. You should head back as soon as you finish eating, because it won't be safe for you once the sun goes down."

"Actually, I think it wants to-" Lucas is cut off by a high-pitched shriek, causing me to look back in alarm. Did a Zubat land on her curly pink head?

"Watch out!" Ursula screeches, pointing at the water. Lucas's hand is already shifting to his Pokéball. I whirl around to see a giant dark shape lunging at us from the murky depths. Or more specifically at Oddish, with its gaping toothless mouth, threatening to swallow the fear-paralyzed Grass-Type whole. I just act on pure instinct, chucking the object in my hand straight at our ambusher. Fortunately for Oddish, it was the empty Pokéball that I had pulled out in my search, which vanishes the larger Pokémon in a flash of red.

I have no illusions about how long this was going to hold. I grab Oddish by its sides, not by its leaves, and pull it away. Sure enough, as soon as the Pokéball hits the ground its hinge snaps open, and our adversary is revealed, a massive navy-blue catfish, covered in a brownish layer of silt and mud, with a jagged yellow shape on its forehead.

Its tail remains in the water, but the beast manages to raise its considerable girth off the ground, revealing a pale-yellow underbelly, and lets its body slam into the ground. An enormous shockwave follows, as the very ground we are standing on rolls and shakes until all of us fall over. I'm knocked painfully on my tailbone, while Lucas topples over like a tree, landing heavily on his shoulder. Ursula's legs wobble like jelly until they give out and she barely manages to interrupt her fall with her forearms right before she faceplants.

"What is that thing? Ursula groans, slowly picking herself from the ground. "And how has it grown so large in this tiny pond!"

Lucas massages his shoulder before giving his hypothesis. "It's a Whiscash. And I think we just saw how. It must be taking Pokémon when they come for a drink, like those Zubat."

That sounded more like a crocodile going after a wildebeest, but then again, catfishes were known to eat almost anything. I just never expected this level of aggression from a Pokémon that had always looked dopey and silly in the pictures I had seen. It makes me think that catfishes may have been named for more than their whiskers, because this one looks as predatory as any hungry lion or tiger. The wild Whiscash's eyes are angry and focused, and when it opens its enormous mouth to bellow while thrashing its tail to create even more noise to intimidate us, I get the feeling that we are in for a serious scrap.

Nevertheless, I look to Lucas for confirmation. "We can't leave while it's like this, can we?"

He shakes his head grimly. "We stole its dinner. Who knows what it might do if we try to leave? It might create another earthquake to try and bring this whole place down."

I grunt as I test my legs by getting to my feet. "If it's a fight it wants, then we'll give it a fight. Go, Glaceon!"

The catfish kicks up a spray of muddy water with its tail in response, coating the exposed sections of its slimy body. Next to me, Lucas stiffens. The lab assistant was just about to send out his starter, but he shrinks the Pokéball instead, returning Chimchar to his pocket. "That was Water Sport," he grumbles. "Which severely weakens the power of Fire-type moves. And I don't want Chimchar getting near Whiscash's mouth." As disappointing as that is, I completely understood. That mouth was easily bigger than Chimchar, and even if Whiscash only latched onto a limb, the catfish could easily drag a Pokémon into the water and drown it. I had already mentally dismissed Charmander from his fight, even before the Water Sport, because this would be near water against a Water-type Pokémon. I then take a quick peek at Ursula, whose fists are clenched like vices. She notices my look and gives me the tiniest of nos. Yeah, I wouldn't want this to be my first battle either.

I didn't think it would be right to command a wild Pokémon to fight on our behalf, and even though I would very much appreciate Oddish's assistance, especially if it had a Grass-type move, I don't ask for it.

"Glaceon, use Water Pulse!" I order, throwing a hand in front of me. My Pokémon tilts her head back and fires the orb of water, but the wild Whiscash responds with an identical attack, causing a curtain of liquid to form between us.

Whiscash doesn't waste any time going on the offensive, opening its mouth and firing a volley of mud projectiles at my Ice-type. "Quick Attack and dodge those!" Glaceon races ahead of the attack, leaving a trail of dirt and dust in her wake as the projectiles explode on contact with the tunnel floor. "Icy Wind!" I call, and a polar blast is directed at the catfish, who spits out a Water Gun attack, which collides with our attack midstream, stopping it cold and muddying the ground with an icy, watery slush.

Our adversary doesn't give me any moment to contemplate what to do, firing another Water Pulse off. "Counter it with your own!" As Glaceon fires her blast of water to collide in another explosive spray of water, a second projectile is fired from somewhere beside me, this one smaller and a sickly purple, unnoticed by our foe, which smells like chemicals and burns off a section of Whiscash's scales and skin, leaving an angry red mark. The wild Pokémon doesn't look to have taken much damage, but it turns its baleful glare onto the originator of the attack.

I do too, looking down. "You want to fight, Oddish? Do you know any Grass-type attacks?"

"Dish, Oddish!" It gives me two determined nods, as I break out in a grin. Our chances of victory are suddenly much improved. One might even say the odds are in our favor.

"Glaceon, force it to focus on you!" She flicks her tail in agreement and launches yet another Water Pulse at our even angrier opponent, before darting away with Quick Attack and blasting the catfish with freezing wind. Whiscash makes the incorrect assumption that because Glaceon is the more powerful of its two opponents, then she must be the far greater threat. The fish uses attack after attack, mostly the smaller explosive mud ones, but also its own Water Pulses, all of which Glaceon is able to dance around, bobbing and weaving gracefully through the attacks with the bonus speed granted by Quick Attack, which infuriates the wild Whiscash even more. The catfish holds its maw open for several seconds before it discharges a massive ball of mud, several times larger than the previous explosive pellets.

I use those seconds for my opening. "Oddish attack with a Grass move!" I order, not knowing exactly what the wild Oddish's move pool is. But once I see its leafy top start to glow green, I already know that Magical Leaf is coming.

"Helping Hand, Glaceon!" I call, causing Glaceon to skid to a halt, and glow like a rainbow, before she jumps and claps her front two paws together, sending all the gathered energy towards Oddish. She takes the ball of mud to the face for that, and she whines in annoyance as her pale blue fur is sullied the same brown color she was as an Eevee. Glaceon is also struggling to move properly, hampered by the sticky mud.

It's all worth it though, because even though Whiscash notices the incoming attack out of the corner of its eye and fires off the explosive mud pellets again in response, they are no match for the powered up Magical Leaf, which plows right through them, connecting for a massive super-effective hit. "Awesome work, Oddish!" I cheer, and the Grass-type hops up and down happily.

Unbelievably, the beast is not put out of commission despite its quadruple weakness to grass. It roars in fury and raises its whole upper body again. "It's going to use Earthquake again!" comes Lucas's fearful voice from behind me.

Fan-fucking-tastic. "Everyone jump after it hits the ground!" I yell back in panic. Even if Lucas and Ursula think my idea is ludicrous, they don't voice any objections. Whiscash crashes to the ground again, and I wait just one beat before I jump into the air.

Embarrassingly enough, on account of being Pokémon, even my mud-covered Glaceon and Oddish with its stubby legs have far superior hops than I do, so the ground is still shaking when I land a few moments later. Just not nearly as badly as last time. I still have to windmill my arms for a couple of seconds and take a sidestep to balance myself, but my backside is thankfully not reacquainted with the ground.

Time to finish this before it uses Magnitude again and pulls a rank ten. "Glaceon, use Water Pulse and hold it and Oddish, distract it with Stun Spore!" Glaceon does just that, holding the growing Water Pulse below her mouth as Oddish ruffles its leaves and sends out a cloud of paralyzing powder. Whiscash turns and uses Water Gun, changing the force of the spray into more akin to what a fountain would put out to knock the particles out of the air like raindrops would do. But as soon as it commits to doing that, I give Glaceon the go ahead to deliver her attack.

"Now Glaceon! And freeze it while you're at it!"

Battling two on one is very unfair, I would say. But I wasn't the one who picked this fight. Glaceon sends the basketball-sized frozen Water Pulse flying into the preoccupied Pokémon, damaging it further, and now Whiscash is starting to look back and forth between Oddish and Glaceon with some trepidation, realizing that this fight is not one it can win.

I decide to leave no doubt in its fishy brain. "Attack together! Oddish, use Magical Leaf and Glaceon, use Icy Wind!" The catfish tries to counter with a final, futile Water Gun, but it is pushed back by the force of two attacks, colliding with the wild Pokémon, literally lifting it up and sending it crashing back into its dirty home with a humongous splash. Our adversary concedes defeat without another sound, slowly sinking into the depths, and after a few seconds the only traces it was here are the scattered, muddy remains of its attacks.

I let out a breath that I hadn't even known I was holding in relief. "Everyone alright?" I ask, looking back at my companions.

Lucas rolls his shoulder once more experimentally, before giving me a thumbs up, while Ursula brushes off some leftover dust from her dress and cardigan before stating that she was also fine. Glaceon is by far the most unhappy, trying in vain to get the mud out of her fur, but only succeeding in spreading it further. I recall her before she decides to use Water Pulse on herself to get clean. "I promise you'll get a bath at the Pokémon Center as soon as we get to Oreburgh, Glaceon. It's the least you deserve for fighting so well."

I finally turn to the impromptu member of our team. "You were great out there too, Oddish. I think I dropped that poffin during that first Magnitude though, so I don't have anything to give you…"

"Will you stop playing the dullard and catch it already, so we can leave this ghastly tunnel?" Ursula insults me impatiently. "It has followed you all this way, and not just because of my delectable poffins. It should be crystal clear that Oddish has taken a liking to you and wants you to be its trainer."

All I did was feed it, and that was after a terrible first impression. But I guess it did follow me, and we made a pretty good team. Oddish would be a great addition in terms of typing too, having an advantage against not only the incoming Rock-Type gym, but also against Water-types. My mind is pretty much settled, except for one last thing. "You don't want to catch it, Lucas?"

He looks surprised then shrugs, wincing a little. "No, you found and befriended it first. And you need a third Pokémon for your upcoming gym challenge." He looks somewhat longingly at Oddish. "If you weren't though, I could always…"

The lab assistant is silenced when I take a Pokéball out and expand it, though Lucas pipes up again to provide me some advice. "It helps if the Pokémon is weakened before you throw your Pokéball." I roll my eyes and ignore him, lobbing the Pokéball underhand at the wild Pokémon. I didn't even have to worry about my aim or anything, because Oddish jumps straight into its path, letting its head (and body, I guess) connect with the Pokéball and vanishing in a warm red light. It lands on the ground and wobbles back and forth for a few seconds before finally the central button stops flashing red and becomes motionless with an audible click.

I bend over and palm my new partner in my hand, barely resisting the urge to jump up and down, or do a spunky pose. But I can't stop a wide, goofy grin from spreading on my face, or the sheer childish elation that's coursing through my veins, flooding every inch of my body with pure happiness. I just caught a Pokémon!

Get ready Roark! I'm about to send your Rock-types back to the Stone Age!